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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16129-h.zip b/16129-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4e1c03d --- /dev/null +++ b/16129-h.zip diff --git a/16129-h/16129-h.htm b/16129-h/16129-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..033178f --- /dev/null +++ b/16129-h/16129-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7859 @@ +<!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"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of In Luck At Last, by Walter Besant +. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + h2 { text-align:center; margin-top: 4em; margin-bottom: 1em; } + + ul.TOC {list-style-type: none; position: relative; width: 85%;} + + span.ralign { margin-left: 70em; top: auto;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; text-indent: 0; font-weight: normal; color: gray; font-size: 7pt; text-align: right;} + /* page numbers */ + + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + a:link {text-decoration: none;} + a:visited {text-decoration: none;} + a:hover { + text-decoration: underline; + color: #FF0000; +} + a:active {text-decoration: none;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of In Luck at Last, by Walter Besant + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: In Luck at Last + +Author: Walter Besant + +Release Date: June 25, 2005 [EBook #16129] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN LUCK AT LAST *** + + + + +Produced by Bill Tozier, Barbara Tozier, Sankar Viswanathan +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a>[3]</span> </p> + + + + +<h1>IN LUCK AT LAST.</h1> + +<h2>BY WALTER BESANT.</h2> + + +<h3> </h3> +<h3> </h3> +<h3> </h3> +<h3> </h3> +<h3> </h3> +<h4>NEW YORK:</h4> + +<h3>GEORGE MUNRO'S SONS, PUBLISHERS,</h3> + +<h4>17 TO 27 VANDEWATER STREET. +</h4> + +<h2> </h2> +<h2>CONTENTS +</h2> +<ul class="TOC"> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I.<br /> +</b></a>WITHIN THREE WEEKS<br /> + <br /> +</li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II.</b></a><br /> + FOX AND WOLF<br /> + <br /> +</li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III.<br /> +</b></a>IRIS THE HERALD.<br /> + <br /> +</li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV.</b></a><br /> + THE WOLF AT HOME.<br /> + <br /> +</li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V.</b></a><br /> + AS A BROTHER.<br /> + <br /> +</li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI.<br /> +</b></a>COUSIN CLARA.<br /> + <br /> +</li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII.</b></a><br /> + ON BATTERSEA TERRACE.<br /> + <br /> +</li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII.</b></a><br /> + THE DISCOVERY.<br /> + <br /> +</li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX.</b></a><br /> + DR. WASHINGTON.<br /> + <br /> +</li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X.</b></a><br /> + "IT IS MY COUSIN." <br /> + <br /> +</li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI.</b></a><br /> + MR. JAMES MAKES ATONEMENT.<br /> + <br /> +</li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII.</b></a><br /> + IS THIS HIS PHOTOGRAPH?<br /> + <br /> +</li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII.</b></a><br /> + HIS LAST CHANCE.<br /> + <br /> +</li> +<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV.</b></a><br /> + THE HAND OF FATE.<br /> + <br /> +</li> +<li><a href="#A_YACHTSMANS_YARN"><b>A YACHTSMAN'S YARN.</b></a><br /></li> +</ul> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>WITHIN THREE WEEKS</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p>If everyone were allowed beforehand to choose and select for himself +the most pleasant method of performing this earthly pilgrimage, there +would be, I have always thought, an immediate run upon that way of +getting to the Delectable Mountains which is known as the Craft and +Mystery of Second-hand Bookselling. If, further, one were allowed to +select and arrange the minor details—such, for instance, as the +"pitch" and the character of the shop, it would seem desirable that, +as regards the latter, the kind of bookselling should be neither too +lofty nor too mean—that is to say, that one's ambition would not +aspire to a great collector's establishment, such as one or two we +might name in Piccadilly, the Haymarket, or New Bond Street; these +should be left to those who greatly dare and are prepared to play the +games of Speculation and of Patience; nor, on the other hand, would +one choose an open cart at the beginning of the Whitechapel Road, or +one of the shops in Seven Dials, whose stock-in-trade consists wholly +of three or four boxes outside the door filled with odd volumes at +twopence apiece. As for "pitch" or situation, one would wish it to be +somewhat retired, but not too much; one would not, for instance, +willingly be thrown away in Hoxton, nor would one languish in the +obscurity of Kentish Town; a second-hand bookseller must not be so far +removed from the haunts of men as to place him practically beyond the +reach of the collector; nor, on the other hand, should he be planted +in a busy thoroughfare—the noise of many vehicles, the hurry of quick +footsteps, the swift current of anxious humanity are out of harmony +with the atmosphere of a second-hand bookshop. Some suggestion of +external repose is absolutely necessary; there must be some stillness +in the air; yet the thing itself belongs essentially to the city—no +one can imagine a second-hand bookshop beside green fields—so that +there should be some murmur and perceptible hum of mankind always +present in the ear. Thus there are half-a-dozen bookshops in King +William Street, Strand, which seem to enjoy every possible advantage +of position, for they are in the very heart of London, but yet are not +exposed to the full noise and tumult of that overflowing tide which +surges round Charing Cross. Again, there are streets north of Holborn +and Oxford Street most pleasantly situated for the second-hand +bookseller, and there are streets where he ought not to be, where he +has no business, and where his presence jars. Could we, for instance, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a>[6]</span> +endure to see the shop of a second-hand bookseller established in +Cheapside?</p> + +<p>Perhaps, however, the most delightful spot in all London for a +second-hand bookshop is that occupied by Emblem's in the King's Road, +Chelsea.</p> + +<p>It stands at the lower end of the road, where one begins to realize +and thoroughly feel the influences of that ancient and lordly suburb. +At this end of the road there are rows of houses with old-fashioned +balconies; right and left of it there are streets which in the summer +and early autumn are green, yellow, red, and golden with their masses +of creepers; squares which look as if, with the people living in them, +they must belong to the year eighteen hundred; neither a day before +nor a day after; they lie open to the road, with their gardens full of +trees. Cheyne Walk and the old church, with its red-brick tower, and +the new Embankment, are all so close that they seem part and parcel of +the King's Road. The great Hospital is within five minutes' walk, and +sometimes the honest veterans themselves may be seen wandering in the +road. The air is heavy with associations and memories. You can +actually smell the fragrance of the new-made Chelsea buns, fresh from +the oven, just as you would a hundred years ago. You may sit with +dainty damsels, all hoops and furbelows, eating custards at the +Bun-house; you may wander among the rare plants of the Botanic +Gardens. The old great houses rise, shadowy and magnificent, above the +modern terraces; Don Saltero's Coffee-House yet opens its hospitable +doors; Sir Thomas More meditates again on Cheyne Walk; at dead of +night the ghosts of ancient minuet tunes may be heard from the Rotunda +of Ranelagh Gardens, though the new barracks stand upon its site; and +along the modern streets you may fancy that if you saw the ladies with +their hoop petticoats, and the gentlemen with their wigs and their +three-cornered hats and swords, you would not be in the least +astonished.</p> + +<p>Emblem's is one of two or three shops which stand together, but it +differs from its neighbors in many important particulars. For it has +no plate-glass, as the others have; nor does it stand like them with +open doors; nor does it flare away gas at night; nor is it bright with +gilding and fresh paint; nor does it seek to attract notice by posters +and bills. On the contrary, it retains the old, small, and +unpretending panes of glass which it has always had; in the evening it +is dimly lighted, and it closes early; its door is always shut, and +although the name over the shop is dingy, one feels that a coat of +paint, while it would certainly freshen up the place, would take +something from its character. For a second-hand bookseller who +respects himself must present an exterior which has something of faded +splendor, of worn paint and shabbiness. Within the shop, books line +the walls and cumber the floor. There are an outer and an inner shop; +in the former a small table stands among the books, at which Mr. +James, the assistant, is always at work cataloguing, when he is not +tying up parcels; sometimes even with gum and paste repairing the +slighter ravages of time—foxed bindings and close-cut margins no man +can repair. In the latter, which is Mr. Emblem's sanctum, there are +chairs and a table, also covered with books, a writing-desk, a small +safe, and a <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span> glass case, wherein are secured the more costly books in +stock. Emblem's, as must be confessed, is no longer quite what it was +in former days; twenty, thirty, or forty years ago that glass case was +filled with precious treasures. In those days, if a man wanted a book +of county history, or of genealogy, or of heraldry, he knew where was +his best chance of finding it, for Emblem's, in its prime and heyday, +had its specialty. Other books treating on more frivolous subjects, +such as science, belles lettres, art, or politics, he would consider, +buy, and sell again; but he took little pride in them. Collectors of +county histories, however, and genealogy-hunters and their kind, knew +that at Emblem's, where they would be most likely to get what they +wanted, they would have to pay the market price for it.</p> + +<p>There is no patience like the patience of a book-collector; there is +no such industry given to any work comparable with the thoughtful and +anxious industry with which he peruses the latest catalogues; there is +no care like unto that which rends his mind before the day of auction +or while he is still trying to pick up a bargain; there are no eyes so +sharp as those which pry into the contents of a box full of old books, +tumbled together, at sixpence apiece. The bookseller himself partakes +of the noble enthusiasm of the collector, though he sells his +collection; like the amateur, the professional moves heaven and earth +to get a bargain: like him, he rejoices as much over a book which has +been picked up below its price, as over a lost sheep which has +returned into the fold. But Emblem is now old, and Emblem's shop is no +longer what it was to the collector of the last generation.</p> + +<p>It was an afternoon in late September, and in this very year of grace, +eighteen hundred and eighty-four. The day was as sunny and warm as any +of the days of its predecessor Augustus the Gorgeous, but yet there +was an autumnal feeling in the air which made itself felt even in +streets where there were no red and yellow Virginia creepers, no +square gardens with long trails of mignonette and banks of flowering +nasturtiums. In fact, you cannot anywhere escape the autumnal feeling, +which begins about the middle of September. It makes old people think +with sadness that the grasshopper is a burden in the land, and that +the almond-tree is about to flourish; but the young it fills with a +vinous and intoxicated rejoicing, as if the time of feasting, fruits, +harvests, and young wine, strong and fruity, was upon the world. It +made Mr. James—his surname has never been ascertained, but man and +boy, Mr. James has been at Emblem's for twenty-five years and +more—leave his table where he was preparing the forthcoming +catalogue, and go to the open door, where he wasted a good minute and +a half in gazing up at the clear sky and down the sunny street. Then +he stretched his arms and returned to his work, impelled by the sense +of duty rather than by the scourge of necessity, because there was no +hurry about the catalogue and most of the books in it were rubbish, +and at that season of the year few customers could be expected, and +there were no parcels to tie up and send out. He went back to his +work, therefore, but he left the door partly open in order to enjoy +the sight of the warm sunshine. Now for Emblem's to have its door +open, was much as if Mr. Emblem himself should <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a>[8]</span> so far forget his +self-respect as to sit in his shirt-sleeves. The shop had been rather +dark, the window being full of books, but now through the open door +there poured a little stream of sunshine, reflected from some far off +window. It fell upon a row of old eighteenth century volumes, bound in +dark and rusty leather, and did so light up and glorify the dingy +bindings and faded gold, that they seemed fresh from the binder's +hands, and just ready for the noble purchaser, long since dead and +gone, whose book plate they bore. Some of this golden stream fell also +upon the head of the assistant—it was a red head, with fiery red +eyes, red eyebrows, bristly and thick, and sharp thin features to +match—and it gave him the look of one who is dragged unwillingly into +the sunlight. However, Mr. James took no notice of the sunshine, and +went on with his cataloguing almost as if he liked that kind of work. +There are many people who seem to like dull work, and they would not +be a bit more unhappy if they were made to take the place of Sisyphus, +or transformed into the damsels who are condemned to toil continually +at the weary work of pouring water into a sieve. Perhaps Sisyphus does +not so much mind the continual going up and down hill. "After all," he +might say, "this is better than the lot of poor Ixion. At all events, +I have got my limbs free." Ixion, on the other hand, no doubt, is full +of pity for his poor friend Sisyphus. "I, at least," he says, "have no +work to do. And the rapid motion of the wheel is in sultry weather +sometimes pleasant."</p> + +<p>Behind the shop, where had been originally the "back parlor," in the +days when every genteel house in Chelsea had both its front and back +parlor—the latter for sitting and living in, the former for the +reception of company—sat this afternoon the proprietor, the man whose +name had stood above the shop for fifty years, the original and only +Emblem. He was—nay, he is—for you may still find him in his place, +and may make his acquaintance over a county history any day in the +King's Road—he is an old man now, advanced in the seventies, who was +born before the battle of Waterloo was fought, and can remember +Chelsea when it was full of veterans wounded in battles fought long +before the Corsican Attila was let loose upon the world. His face +wears the peaceful and wise expression which belongs peculiarly to his +profession. Other callings make a man look peaceful, but not all other +callings make him look wise. Mr. Emblem was born by nature of a calm +temperament,—otherwise he would not have been happy in his business; +a smile lies generally upon his lips, and his eyes are soft and +benign; his hair is white, and his face, once ruddy, is pale, yet not +shrunk and seamed with furrows as happens to so many old men, but +round and firm; like his chin and lips it is clean shaven; he wears a +black coat extraordinarily shiny in the sleeve, and a black silk stock +just as he used to wear in the thirties when he was young, and +something of a dandy, and would show himself on a Saturday evening in +the pit of Drury Lane; and the stock is fastened behind with a silver +buckle. He is, in fact, a delightful old gentleman to look at and +pleasant to converse with, and on his brow every one who can read may +see, visibly stamped, the seal of a harmless and honest life. At the +contemplation of such a man, one's opinion of humanity is sensibly +raised, and even house-agents, plumbers, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span> suburban builders, feel +that, after all, virtue may bring with, it some reward.</p> + +<p>The quiet and warmth of the afternoon, unbroken to his accustomed ear, +as it would be to a stranger, by the murmurous roll of London, made +him sleepy. In his hand he held a letter which he had been reading for +the hundredth time, and of which he knew by heart every word; and as +his eyes closed he went back in imagination to a passage in the past +which it recalled.</p> + +<p>He stood, in imagination, upon the deck of a sailing-ship—an emigrant +ship. The year was eighteen hundred and sixty-four, a year when very +few were tempted to try their fortunes in a country torn by civil war. +With him were his daughter and his son-in-law, and they were come to +bid the latter farewell.</p> + +<p>"My dear—my dear," cried the wife, in her husband's arms, "come what +may, I will join you in a year."</p> + +<p>Her husband shook his head sadly.</p> + +<p>"They do not want me here," he said; "the work goes into stronger and +rougher hands. Perhaps over there we may get on better, and besides, +it seems an opening."</p> + +<p>If the kind of work which he wanted was given to stronger and rougher +hands than his in England, far more would it be the case in young and +rough America. It was journalistic work—writing work—that he wanted; +and he was a gentleman, a scholar, and a creature of retired and +refined tastes and manners. There are, perhaps, some still living who +have survived the tempestuous life of the ordinary Fleet Street +"newspaper man" of twenty or thirty years ago; perhaps one or two +among these remember Claude Aglen—but he was so short a time with +them that it is not likely; those who do remember him will understand +that the way to success, rough and thorny for all, for such as Aglen +was impossible.</p> + +<p>"But you will think every day of little Iris?" said his wife. "Oh, my +dear, if I were only going with you! And but for me you would be at +home with your father, well and happy."</p> + +<p>Then in his dream, which was also a memory, the old man saw how the +young husband kissed and comforted his wife.</p> + +<p>"My dear," said Claude, "if it were not for you, what happiness could +I have in the world? Courage, my wife, courage and hope. I shall think +of you and Iris all day and all night until we meet again."</p> + +<p>And so they parted and the ship sailed away.</p> + +<p>The old man opened his eyes and looked about him. It was a dream.</p> + +<p>"It was twenty years ago," he said, "and Iris was a baby in arms. +Twenty years ago, and he never saw his wife again. Never again! +Because she died," he added after a pause; "my Alice died."</p> + +<p>He shed no tears, being so old that the time of tears was well-nigh +past—at seventy-five the eyes are drier than at forty, and one is no +longer surprised or disappointed, and seldom even angry, whatever +happens.</p> + +<p>But he opened the letter in his hand and read it again mechanically. +It was written on thin foreign paper, and the creases of the folds had +become gaping rents. It was dated September, 1866, just eighteen years +back.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a>[10]</span> </p> + +<p>"When you read these lines," the letter said, "I shall be in the +silent land, whither Alice, my wife, has gone before me. It would be a +strange thing only to think upon this journey which lies before me, +and which I must take alone, had I time left for thinking. But I have +not. I may last a week, or I may die in a few hours. Therefore, to the +point.</p> + +<p>"In one small thing we deceived you, Alice and I—my name is not Aglen +at all; we took that name for certain reasons. Perhaps we were wrong, +but we thought that as we were quite poor, and likely to remain poor, +it would be well to keep our secret to ourselves. Forgive us both this +suppression of the truth. We were made poor by our own voluntary act +and deed, and because I married the only woman I loved.</p> + +<p>"I was engaged to a girl whom I did not love. We had been brought up +like brother and sister together, but I did not love her, though I was +engaged to her. In breaking this engagement I angered my father. In +marrying Alice I angered him still more.</p> + +<p>"I now know that he has forgiven me; he forgave me on his death-bed; +he revoked his former will and made me his sole heir—just as if +nothing had happened to destroy his old affection—subject to one +condition—viz., that the girl to whom I was first engaged should +receive the whole income until I, or my heirs, should return to +England in order to claim the inheritance.</p> + +<p>"It is strange. I die in a wooden shanty, in a little Western town, +the editor of a miserable little country paper. I have not money +enough even to bury me, and yet, if I were at home, I might be called +a rich man, as men go. My little Iris will be an heiress. At the very +moment when I learn that I am my father's heir, I am struck down by +fever; and now I know that I shall never get up again.</p> + +<p>"It is strange. Yet my father sent me his forgiveness, and my wife is +dead, and the wealth that has come is useless to me. Wherefore, +nothing now matters much to me, and I know that you will hold my last +wishes sacred.</p> + +<p>"I desire that Iris shall be educated as well and thoroughly as you +can afford; keep her free from rough and rude companions; make her +understand that her father was a gentleman of ancient family; this +knowledge will, perhaps, help to give her self-respect. If any +misfortune should fall upon you, such as the loss of health or wealth, +give the papers inclosed to a trustworthy solicitor, and bid him act +as is best in the interests of Iris. If, as I hope, all will go well +with you, do not open the papers until my child's twenty-first +birthday; do not let her know until then that she is going to be rich; +on her twenty-first birthday, open the papers and bid her claim her +own.</p> + +<p>"To the woman I wronged—I know not whether she has married or +not—bid Iris carry my last message of sorrow at what has happened. I +do not regret, and I have never regretted, that I married Alice. But, +I gave her pain, for which I have never ceased to grieve. I have been +punished for this breach of faith. You will find among the papers an +account of all the circumstances connected with this engagement. There +is also in the packet my portrait, taken when I was a lad of sixteen; +give her that as well; there is <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span> the certificate of my marriage, my +register of baptism, that of Iris's baptism, my signet ring—" "His +arms"—the old man interrupted his reading—"his arms were: quarterly: +first and fourth, two roses and a boar's head, erect; second and +third, gules and fesse between—between—but I cannot remember what it +was between—" He went on reading: "My father's last letter to me; +Alice's letters, and one or two from yourself. If Iris should +unhappily die before her twenty-first birthday, open these papers, +find out from them the owner's name and address, seek her out, and +tell her that she will never now be disturbed by any claimants to the +estate."</p> + +<p>The letter ended here abruptly, as if the writer had designed to add +more, but was prevented by death.</p> + +<p>For there was a postscript, in another hand, which stated: "Mr. Aglen +died November 25th, 1866, and is buried in the cemetery of Johnson +City, Ill."</p> + +<p>The old man folded the letter carefully, and laid it on the table. +Then he rose and walked across the room to the safe, which stood with +open door in the corner furthest from the fireplace. Among its +contents was a packet sealed and tied up in red tape, endorsed: "For +Iris. To be given to her on her twenty-first birthday. From her +father."</p> + +<p>"It will be her twenty-first birthday," he said, "in three weeks. Then +I must give her the packet. So—so—with the portrait of her father, +and his marriage-certificate." He fell into a fit of musing, with the +papers in his hand. "She will be safe, whatever happens to me; and as +for me, if I lose her—of course I shall lose her. Why, what will it +matter? Have I not lost all, except Iris? One must not be selfish. Oh, +Iris, what a surprise—what a surprise I have in store for you!"</p> + +<p>He placed the letter he had been reading within the tape which +fastened the bundle, so that it should form a part of the +communication to be made on Iris's birthday.</p> + +<p>"There," he said, "now I shall read this letter no more. I wonder how +many times I have read it in the last eighteen years, and how often I +have wondered what the child's fortune would be? In three weeks—in +three short weeks. Oh, Iris, if you only knew!"</p> + +<p>He put back the letters and the packet, locked the safe, and resumed +his seat.</p> + +<p>The red-eyed assistant, still gumming and pasting his slips with +punctilious regard to duty, had been following his master's movements +with curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Counting his investments again as usual," Mr. James murmured. "Ah! +and adding 'em up! Always at it. Oh, what a trade it must have been +once!"</p> + +<p>Just then there appeared in the door a gentleman. He was quite shabby, +and even ragged in his dress, but he was clearly a gentleman. He was +no longer young; his shoulders were bent, and he had the unmistakable +stamp and carriage of a student.</p> + +<p>"Guv'nor's at home," said the assistant briefly.</p> + +<p>The visitor walked into the sanctum. He had under his arm half-a-dozen +volumes, which, without a word, he laid before Mr. Emblem, and untied +the string.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a>[12]</span> </p> + +<p>"You ought to know this book," he said without further introduction.</p> + +<p>Mr. Emblem looked doubtfully at the visitor.</p> + +<p>"You sold it to me twenty-five years ago," he went on, "for five +pounds."</p> + +<p>"I did. And I remember now. You are Mr. Frank Farrar. Why, it is +twenty-five years ago!"</p> + +<p>"I have bought no more books for twenty years and more," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Sad—sad! Dear me—tut, tut!—bought no books? And you, Mr. Farrar, +once my best customer. And now—you do not mean to say that you are +going to sell—that you actually want to sell—this precious book?"</p> + +<p>"I am selling, one by one, all my books," replied the other with a +sigh. "I am going down hill, Emblem, fast."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, dear!" replied the bookseller. "This is very sad. One +cannot bear to think of the libraries being dispersed and sold off. +And now yours, Mr. Farrar? Really, yours? Must it be?"</p> + +<p>"'Needs must,'" Mr. Farrar said with a sickly smile, "needs must when +the devil drives. I have parted with half my books already. But I +thought you might like to have this set, because they were once your +own."</p> + +<p>"So I should"—Mr. Emblem laid a loving hand upon the volumes—"so I +should, Mr. Farrar, but not from you; not from you, sir. Why, you were +almost my best customer—I think almost my very best—thirty years +ago, when my trade was better than it is now. Yes, you gave me five +pounds—or was it five pounds ten?—for this very work. And it is +worth twelve pounds now—I assure you it is worth twelve pounds, if it +is worth a penny."</p> + +<p>"Will you give me ten pounds for it, then?" cried the other eagerly; +"I want the money badly."</p> + +<p>"No, I can't; but I will send you to a man who can and will. I do not +speculate now; I never go to auctions. I am old, you see. Besides, I +am poor. I will not buy your book, but I will send you to a man who +will give you ten pounds for it, I am sure, and then he will sell it +for fifteen." He wrote the address on a slip of paper. "Why, Mr. +Farrar, if an old friend, so to speak, can put the question, why in +the world—"</p> + +<p>"The most natural thing," replied Mr. Farrar with a cold laugh; "I am +old, as I told you, and the younger men get all the work. That is all. +Nobody wants a genealogist and antiquary."</p> + +<p>"Dear me, dear me! Why, Mr. Farrar, I remember now; you used to know +my poor son-in-law, who is dead eighteen years since. I was just +reading the last letter he ever wrote to me, just before he died. You +used to come here and sit with him in the evening. I remember now. So +you did."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for your good will," said Mr. Farrar. "Yes, I remember your +son-in-law. I knew him before his marriage."</p> + +<p>"Did you? Before his marriage? Then—" He was going to add, "Then you +can tell me his real name," but he paused, because it is a pity ever +to acknowledge ignorance, and especially ignorance in such elementary +matters as your son-in-law's name.</p> + +<p>So Mr. Emblem checked himself.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span> </p> + +<p>"He ought to have been a rich man," Mr. Farrar continued; "but he +quarreled with his father, who cut him off with a shilling, I +suppose."</p> + +<p>Then the poor scholar, who could find no market for his learned +papers, tied up his books again and went away with hanging head.</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" Mr. James, who had been listening, groaned as Mr. Farrar passed +through the door. "Ugh! Call that a way of doing business? Why, if it +had been me, I'd have bought the book off of that old chap for a +couple o' pounds, I would. Ay, or a sov, so seedy he is, and wants +money so bad. And I know who'd have given twelve pound for it, in the +trade too. Call that carrying on business? He may well add up his +investments every day, it he can afford to chuck such chances. Ah, but +he'll retire soon." His fiery eyes brightened, and his face glowed +with the joy of anticipation. "He must retire before long."</p> + +<p>There came another visitor. This time it was a lanky boy, with, a blue +bag over his shoulder and a notebook and pencil-stump in his hand. He +nodded to the assistant as to an old friend with whom one may be at +ease, set down his bag, opened his notebook, and nibbled his stump. +Then he read aloud, with a comma or semicolon between each, a dozen or +twenty titles. They were the names of the books which his employer +wished to pick up. The red-eyed assistant listened, and shook his +head. Then the boy, without another word, shouldered his bag and +departed, on his way to the next second-hand book-shop.</p> + +<p>He was followed, at a decent interval, by another caller. This time it +was an old gentleman who opened the door, put in his head, and looked +about him with a quick and suspicious glance. At sight of the +assistant he nodded and smiled in the most friendly way possible, and +came in.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Mr. James; good-morning, my friend. Splendid weather. +Pray don't disturb yourself. I am just having a look round—only a +look round, you know. Don't move, Mr. James."</p> + +<p>He addressed Mr. James, but he was looking at the shelves as he spoke, +and, with the habit of a book-hunter, taking down the volumes, looking +at the title-pages and replacing them; under his arm he carried a +single volume in old leather binding.</p> + +<p>Mr. James nodded his head, but did disturb himself; in fact, he rose +with a scowl upon his face, and followed this polite old gentlemen all +round the shop, placing himself close to his elbow. One might almost +suppose that he suspected him, so close and assiduous was his +assistance. But the visitor, accepting these attentions as if they +were customary, and the result of high breeding, went slowly round the +shelves, taking down book after book, but buying none. Presently he +smiled again, and said that he must be moving on, and very politely +thanked Mr. James for his kindness.</p> + +<p>"Nowhere," he was so good as to say, "does one get so much personal +kindness and attention as at Emblem's. Good-morning, Mr. James; +good-morning, my friend."</p> + +<p>Mr. James grunted; and closed the door after him.</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" he said with disgust, "I know you; I know your likes. Want to +make your set complete—eh? Want to sneak one of our books to do it +with, don't you? Ah!" He looked into the back <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a>[14]</span> shop before he returned +to his paste and his slips. "That was Mr. Potts, the great Queen Anne +collector, sir. Most notorious book-snatcher in all London, and the +most barefaced. Wanted our fourth volume of the 'Athenian Oracle.' I +saw his eyes reached out this way, and that way, and always resting on +that volume. I saw him edging along to the shelf. Got another odd +volume just like it in his wicked old hand, ready to change it when I +wasn't looking."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Mr. Emblem, waking up from his dream of Iris and her +father's letter; "ah, they will try it on. Keep your eyes open, +James."</p> + +<p>"No thanks, as usual," grumbled Mr. James as he returned to his gum +and his scissors. "Might as well have left him to snatch the book."</p> + +<p>Here, however, James was wrong, because it is the first duty of an +assistant to hinder and obstruct the book-snatcher, who carries on his +work by methods of crafty and fraudulent exchange rather than by plain +theft, which is a mere brutal way. For, first, the book-snatcher marks +his prey; he finds the shop which has a set containing the volume +which is missing in his own set; next, he arms himself with a volume +which closely resembles the one he covets, and then, on pretense of +turning over the leaves, he watches his opportunity to effect an +exchange, and goes away rejoicing, his set complete. No collector, as +is very well known, whether of books, coins, pictures, medals, fans, +scarabs, book-plates, autographs, stamps, or anything else, has any +conscience at all. Anybody can cut out slips and make a catalogue, but +it requires a sharp assistant, with eyes all over his head like a +spider, to be always on guard against this felonious and unscrupulous +collector.</p> + +<p>Next, there came two schoolboys together, who asked for and bought a +crib to "Virgil;" and then a girl who wanted some cheap French +reading-book. Just as the clock began to strike five, Mr. Emblem +lifted his head and looked up. The shop-door opened, and there stepped +in, rubbing his shoes on the mat as if he belonged to the house, an +elderly gentleman of somewhat singular appearance. He wore a fez cap, +but was otherwise dressed as an Englishman—in black frock coat, that +is, buttoned up—except that his feet were incased in black cloth +shoes, so that he went noiselessly. His hair was short and white, and +he wore a small white beard; his skin was a rather dark brown; he was, +in fact, a Hindoo, and his name was Lala Roy.</p> + +<p>He nodded gravely to Mr. James and walked into the back shop.</p> + +<p>"It goes well," he asked, "with the buying and the selling?"</p> + +<p>"Surely, Lala, surely."</p> + +<p>"A quiet way of buying and selling; a way fit for one who meditates," +said the Hindoo, looking round. "Tell me, my friend, what ails the +child? Is she sick?"</p> + +<p>"The child is well, Lala."</p> + +<p>"Her mind wandered this morning. She failed to perceive a simple +method which I tried to teach her. I feared she might be ill."</p> + +<p>"She is not ill, my friend, but I think her mind is troubled."</p> + +<p>"She is a woman. We are men. There is nothing in the world that is +able to trouble the mind of the philosopher."</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span> </p> + +<p>"Nothing," said Mr. Emblem manfully, as if he, too, was a disciple. +"Nothing; is there now?"</p> + +<p>The stoutness of the assertion was sensibly impaired by the question.</p> + +<p>"Not poverty, which is a shadow; nor pain, which passes; nor the loss +of woman's love, which is a gain; nor fall from greatness—nothing. +Nevertheless," his eyes did look anxious in spite of his philosophy, +"this trouble of the child—will it soon be over?"</p> + +<p>"I hope this evening," said Mr. Emblem. "Indeed I am sure that it will +be finished this evening."</p> + +<p>"If the child had a mother, or a brother, or any protectors but +ourselves, my friend, we might leave her to them. But she has nobody +except you and me. I am glad that she is not ill."</p> + +<p>He left Mr. Emblem, and passing through the door of communication +between house and shop, went noiselessly up the stairs.</p> + +<p>One more visitor—unusual for so many to call on a September +afternoon. This time it was a youngish man of thirty or so, who +stepped into the shop with an air of business, and, taking no notice +at all of the assistant, walked swiftly into the back shop and shut +the door behind him.</p> + +<p>"I thought so," murmured Mr. James. "After he's been counting up his +investments, his lawyer calls. More investments."</p> + +<p>Mr. David Chalker was a solicitor and, according to his friends, who +were proud of him, a sharp practitioner. He was, in fact, one of those +members of the profession who, starting with no connection, have to +make business for themselves. This, in London, they do by encouraging +the county court, setting neighbors by the ears, lending money in +small sums, fomenting quarrels, charging commissions, and generally +making themselves a blessing and a boon to the district where they +reside. But chiefly Mr. Chalker occupied himself with lending money.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Emblem," he said, not in a menacing tone, but as one who +warns; "now, Mr. Emblem."</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Chalker," the bookseller repeated mildly.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do for me?"</p> + +<p>"I got your usual notice," the old bookseller began, hesitating, "six +months ago."</p> + +<p>"Of course you did. Three fifty is the amount. Three fifty, exactly."</p> + +<p>"Just so. But I am afraid I am not prepared to pay off the bill of +sale. The interest, as usual, will be ready."</p> + +<p>"Of course it will. But this time the principal must be ready too."</p> + +<p>"Can't you get another client to find the money?"</p> + +<p>"No, I can't. Money is tight, and your security, Mr. Emblem, isn't so +good as it was."</p> + +<p>"The furniture is there, and so is the stock."</p> + +<p>"Furniture wears out; as for the stock—who knows what that is worth? +All your books together may not be worth fifty pounds, for what I +know."</p> + +<p>"Then what am I to do?"</p> + +<p>"Find the money yourself. Come, Mr. Emblem, everybody knows—your +grandson himself told me—all the world knows—you've been <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a>[16]</span> for years +saving up for your granddaughter. You told Joe only six months +ago—you can't deny it—that whatever happened to you she would be +well off."</p> + +<p>Mr. Emblem did not deny the charge. But he ought not to have told this +to his grandson, of all people in the world.</p> + +<p>"As for Joe," Mr. Chalker went on, "you are going to do nothing for +him. I know that. But is it business like, Mr. Emblem, to waste good +money which you might have invested for your granddaughter?"</p> + +<p>"You do not understand. Mr. Chalker. You really do not, and I cannot +explain. But about this bill of sale—never mind my granddaughter."</p> + +<p>"You the aforesaid Richard Emblem"—Mr. Chalker began to recite, +without commas—"have assigned to me David Chalker aforesaid his +executors administrators and assigns all and singular the several +chattels and things specifically described in the schedule hereto +annexed by way of security for the payment of the sum of three hundred +and fifty pounds and interest thereon at the rate of eight per cent. +per annum."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Chalker. I know all that."</p> + +<p>"You can't complain, I'm sure. It is five years since you borrowed the +money."</p> + +<p>"It was fifty pounds and a box of old law books out of your office, +and I signed a bill for a hundred."</p> + +<p>"You forget the circumstances."</p> + +<p>"No, I do not. My grandson was a rogue. One does not readily forget +that circumstance. He was also your friend, I remember."</p> + +<p>"And I held my tongue."</p> + +<p>"I have had no more money from you, and the sum has become three +hundred and fifty."</p> + +<p>"Of course you don't understand law, Mr. Emblem. How should you! But +we lawyers don't work for nothing. However it isn't what you got, but +what I am to get. Come, my good sir, it's cutting off your nose to +spite your face. Settle and have done with it, even if it does take a +little slice off your granddaughter's fortune? Now look here"—his +voice became persuasive—"why not take me into your confidence? Make a +friend of me. You want advice; let me advise you. I can get you good +investments—far better than you know anything of—good and safe +investments—at six certain, and sometimes seven and even eight per +cent. Make me your man of business—come now. As for this trumpery +bill of sale—this trifle of three fifty, what is it to you? +Nothing—nothing. And as for your intention to enrich your +granddaughter, and cut off your grandson with a shilling, why I honor +you for it—there, though he was my friend. For Joe deserves it +thoroughly. I've told him so, mind. You ask him. I've told him so a +dozen times. I've said: 'The old man's right, Joe.' Ask him if I +haven't."</p> + +<p>This was very expansive, but somehow Mr. Emblem did not respond.</p> + +<p>Presently, however, he lifted his head.</p> + +<p>"I have three weeks still."</p> + +<p>"Three weeks still."</p> + +<p>"And if I do not find the money within three weeks?"</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span> </p> + +<p>"Why—but of course you will—but if you do not—I suppose there will +be only one thing left to do—realize the security, sell up—sticks +and books and all."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Chalker. I will look round me, and—and—do my best. +Good day, Mr. Chalker."</p> + +<p>"The best you can do, Mr. Emblem," returned the solicitor, "is to take +me as your adviser. You trust David Chalker."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. Good-day, Mr. Chalker."</p> + +<p>On his way out, Mr. Chalker stopped for a moment and looked round the +shop.</p> + +<p>"How's business?" he asked the assistant.</p> + +<p>"Dull, sir," replied Mr. James. "He throws it all away, and neglects +his chances. Naturally, being so rich—"</p> + +<p>"So rich, indeed," the solicitor echoed.</p> + +<p>"It will be bad for his successor," Mr. James went on, thinking how +much he should himself like to be that successor. "The goodwill won't +be worth half what it ought to be, and the stock is just falling to +pieces."</p> + +<p>Mr. Chalker looked about him again thoughtfully, and opened his mouth +as if about to ask a question, but said nothing. He remembered, in +time, that the shopman was not likely to know the amount of his +master's capital or investments.</p> + +<p>"There isn't a book even in the glass-case that's worth a five-pound +note," continued Mr. James, whispering, "and he don't look about for +purchases any more. Seems to have lost his pluck."</p> + +<p>Mr. Chalker returned to the back-shop.</p> + +<p>"Within three weeks, Mr. Emblem," he repeated, and then departed.</p> + +<p>Mr. Emblem sat in his chair. He had to find three hundred and fifty +pounds in three weeks. No one knew better than himself that this was +impossible. Within three weeks! But, in three weeks, he would open the +packet of letters, and give Iris her inheritance. At least, she would +not suffer. As for himself—He looked round the little back shop, and +tried to recall the fifty years he had spent there, the books he had +bought and sold, the money which had slipped through his fingers, the +friends who had come and gone. Why, as for the books, he seemed to +remember them every one—his joy in the purchase, his pride in +possession, and his grief at letting them go. All the friends gone +before him, his trade sunk to nothing.</p> + +<p>"Yet," he murmured, "I thought it would last my time."</p> + +<p>But the clock struck six. It was his tea-time. He rose mechanically, +and went upstairs to Iris.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>FOX AND WOLF. +</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p>Mr. James, left to himself, attempted, in accordance with his daily + custom, to commit a dishonorable action.</p> +<p>That is to say, he first listened carefully to the retreating +footsteps of his master, as he went up the stairs; then he left his +table, crept stealthily into the back shop, and began to pull the +drawers, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a>[18]</span> turn the handle of the safe, and try the desk. Everything was +carefully locked. Then he turned over all the papers on the table, but +found nothing that contained the information he looked for. It was his +daily practice thus to try the locks, in hope that some day the safe, +or the drawers, or the desk would be left open by accident, when he +might be able to solve a certain problem, the doubt and difficulty of +which sore let and hindered him—namely, of what extent, and where +placed, were those great treasures, savings, and investments which +enabled his master to be careless over his business. It was, further, +customary with him to be thus frustrated and disappointed. Having +briefly, therefore, also in accordance with his usual custom, +expressed his disgust at this want of confidence between master and +man, Mr. James returned to his paste and scissors.</p> + +<p>About a quarter past six the shop door was cautiously opened, and a +head appeared, which looked round stealthily. Seeing nobody about +except Mr. James, the head nodded, and presently followed by its body, +stepped into the shop.</p> + +<p>"Where's the admiral, Foxy?" asked the caller.</p> + +<p>"Guv'nor's upstairs, Mr. Joseph, taking of his tea with Miss Iris," +replied Mr. James, not at all offended by the allusion to his +craftiness. Who should resemble the fox if not the second-hand +bookseller? In no trade, perhaps, can the truly admirable qualities of +that animal—his patience, his subtlety and craft, his pertinacity, +his sagacity—be illustrated more to advantage. Mr. James felt a glow +of virtue—would that he could grow daily and hourly, and more and +more toward the perfect fox. Then, indeed, and not till then would he +be able to live truly up to his second-hand books.</p> + +<p>"Having tea with Iris; well—"</p> + +<p>The speaker looked as if it required some effort to receive this +statement with resignation.</p> + +<p>"He always does at six o'clock. Why shouldn't he?" asked Mr. James.</p> + +<p>"Because, James, he spends the time in cockering up that gal whom he's +ruined and spoiled—him and the old nigger between them—so that her +mind is poisoned against her lawful relations, and nothing will +content her but coming into all the old man's money, instead of going +share and share alike, as a cousin should, and especially a +she-cousin, while there's a biscuit left in the locker and a drop of +rum in the cask."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Mr. James with a touch of sympathy, called forth, perhaps, +by mention of the rum, which is a favorite drink with second-hand +booksellers' assistants.</p> + +<p>"Nothing too good for her," the other went on; "the best of education, +pianos to play upon, and nobody good enough for her to know. Not on +visiting terms, if you please, with her neighbors; waiting for +duchesses to call upon her. And what is she, after all? A miserable +teacher!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Joseph Gallop was a young man somewhere between twenty and thirty, +tall, large-limbed, well set-up, and broad-shouldered. A young man +who, at first sight, would seem eminently fitted to push his own +fortunes. Also, at first sight, a remarkably handsome fellow, with +straight, clear-cut features and light, curly hair. When <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a>[19]</span> he swung +along the street, his round hat carelessly thrown back, and his +handsome face lit up by the sun, the old women murmured a blessing +upon his comely head—as they used to do, a long time ago, upon the +comely and curly head of Absalom—and the young women looked meaningly +at one another—as was also done in the case of Absalom—and the +object of their admiration knew that they were saying to each other, +in the feminine way, where a look is as good as a whisper, "There goes +a handsome fellow." Those who knew him better, and had looked more +closely into his face, said that his mouth was bad and his eyes +shifty. The same opinion was held by the wiser sort as regards his +character. For, on the one hand, some averred that to their certain +knowledge Joe Gallop had shown himself a monster of ingratitude toward +his grandfather, who had paid his debts and done all kinds of things +for him; on the other hand there were some who thought he had been +badly treated; and some said that no good would ever come of a young +fellow who was never able to remain in the same situation more than a +month or so; and others said that he had certainly been unfortunate, +but that he was a quick and clever young man, who would some day find +the kind of work that suited him, and then he would show everybody of +what stuff he was composed. As for us, we have only to judge of him by +his actions.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, Mr. Joseph," said Mr. James, "perhaps Miss Iris won't have +all bequeathed to her?"</p> + +<p>"Do you know anything?" Joe asked quickly. "Has he made a new will +lately?"</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of. But Mr. Chalker has been here off and on a good +bit now."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Chalker's a close one, too. Else he'd tell me, his old friend. +Look here, Foxy," he turned a beaming and smiling face upon the +assistant. "If you should see anything or find anything out, tell me, +mind. And, remember, I'll make it worth your while."</p> + +<p>Mr. James looked as it he was asking himself how Joseph could make it +worth his while, seeing that he got nothing more from his grandfather, +and by his own showing never would have anything more.</p> + +<p>"It's only his will I'm anxious to know about; that, and where he's +put away all his money. Think what a dreadful thing it would be for +his heirs if he were to go and die suddenly, and none of us to know +where his investments are. As for the shop, that is already disposed +of, as I dare say you know."</p> + +<p>"Disposed of? The shop disposed of! Oh, Lord!" The assistant turned +pale. "Oh, Mr. Joseph," he asked earnestly, "what will become of the +shop? And who is to have it?"</p> + +<p>"I am to have it," Mr. Joseph replied calmly. This was the lie +absolute, and he invented it very cleverly and at the right moment—a +thing which gives strength and life to a lie, because he already +suspected the truth and guessed the secret hope and ambition which +possesses every ambitious assistant in this trade—namely, to get the +succession. Mr. James looked upon himself as the lawful and rightful +heir to the business. But sometimes he entertained grievous doubts, +and now indeed his heart sunk into his boots. "I am to have it," Joe +repeated.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a>[20]</span> </p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't know. You are to have it, then? Oh!"</p> + +<p>If Mr. James had been ten years younger, I think he would have burst +into tears. But at the age of forty weeping no longer presents itself +as a form of relief. It is more usual to seek consolation in a swear. +He stammered, however, while he turned pale, and then red, and then +pale again.</p> + +<p>"Yes, quite proper, Mr. Joseph, I'm sure, and a most beautiful +business may be made again here by one who understands the way. Oh, +you are a lucky man, Mr. Joseph. You are indeed, sir, to get such a +noble chance."</p> + +<p>"The shop," Joe went on, "was settled—settled upon me, long ago." The +verb "to settle" is capable of conveying large and vague impressions. +"But after all, what's the good of this place to a sailor?"</p> + +<p>"The good—the good of this place?" Mr. James's cheek flushed. "Why, to +make money, to be sure—to coin money in. If I had this place to +myself—why—why, in two years I would be making as much as two +hundred a year. I would indeed."</p> + +<p>"You want to make money. Bah! That's all you fellows think of. To sit +in the back shop all day long and to sell moldy books! We jolly sailor +boys know better than that, my lad."</p> + +<p>There really was something nautical about the look of the man. He wore +a black-silk tie, in a sailor's running-knot, the ends loose; his +waistcoat was unbuttoned, and his coat was a kind of jacket; not to +speak of his swinging walk and careless pose. In fact, he had been a +sailor; he had made two voyages to India and back as assistant-purser, +or purser's clerk, on board a P. and O. boat, but some disagreement +with his commanding officer concerning negligence, or impudence, or +drink, or laziness—he had been charged in different situations and at +different times with all these vices, either together or +separately—caused him to lose his rating on the ship's books. +However, he brought away from his short nautical experience, and +preserved, a certain nautical swagger, which accorded well with his +appearance, and gave him a swashbuckler air, which made those who knew +him well lament that he had not graced the Elizabethan era, when he +might have become a gallant buccaneer, and so got himself shot through +the head; or that he had not flourished under the reign of good Queen +Anne, when he would probably have turned pirate and been hanged; or +that, being born in the Victorian age, he had not gone to the Far +West, where he would, at least, have had the chance of getting shot in +a gambling-saloon.</p> + +<p>"As for me, when I get the business," he continued, "I shall look +about for some one to carry it on until I am able to sell it for what +it will fetch. Books at a penny apiece all round, I suppose"—James +gasped—"shop furniture thrown in"—James panted—"and the goodwill +for a small lump sum." James wondered how far his own savings, and +what he could borrow, might go toward that lump sum, and how much +might "remain." "My grandfather, as you know, of course, is soon going +to retire from business altogether." This was another lie absolute, as +Mr. Emblem had no intention whatever of retiring.</p> + +<p>"Soon, Mr. Joseph? He has never said a word to me about it."</p> + +<p>"Very soon, now—sooner than you expect. At seventy-five, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a>[21]</span> with +all his money, why should he go on slaving any longer? Very soon, +indeed. Any day."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Joseph," the assistant positively trembled with eagerness and +apprehension.</p> + +<p>"What is it, James? Did you really think that a man like me was going +to sit in a back shop among these moldy volumes all day? Come, that's +too good. You might have given me credit for being one cut above a +counter, too. I am a gentleman, James, if you please; I am an officer +and a gentleman."</p> + +<p>He then proceeded to explain, in language that smacked something of +the sea, that his ideas soared far above trade, which was, at best, a +contemptible occupation, and quite unworthy of a gentleman, +particularly an officer and a gentleman; and that his personal friends +would never condescend even to formal acquaintance, not to speak of +friendship, with trade. This discourse may be omitted. When one reads +about such a man as Joe Gallop, when we are told how he looked and +what he said and how he said it, with what gestures and in what tone, +we feel as if it would be impossible for the simplest person in the +world to be mistaken as to his real character. My friends, especially +my young friends, so far from the discernment of character being easy, +it is, on the contrary, an art most difficult, and very rarely +attained. Nature's indications are a kind of handwriting the +characters in which are known to few, so that, for instance, the +quick, enquiring glance of an eye, in which one may easily read—who +knows the character—treachery, lying, and deception, just as in the +letter Beth was originally easily discerned the effigies of a house, +may very easily pass unread by the multitude. The language, or rather +the alphabet, is much less complicated than the cuneiform of the Medes +and Persians, yet no one studies it, except women, most of whom are +profoundly skilled in this lore, which makes them so fearfully and +wonderfully wise. Thus it is easy for man to deceive his brother man, +but not his sister woman. Again, most of us are glad to take everybody +on his own statements; there are, or may be, we are all ready to +acknowledge, with sorrow for erring humanity, somewhere else in the +world, such things as pretending, swindling, acting a part, and +cheating, but they do not and cannot belong to our own world. Mr. +James, the assistant, very well knew that Mr. Emblem's grandson had +already, though still young, as bad a record as could be desired by +any; that he had been turned out of one situation after another; that +his grandfather had long since refused to help him any more; that he +was always to be found in the Broad Path which leadeth to destruction. +When he had money he ran down that path as fast as his legs could +carry him; when he had none, he only walked and wished he could run. +But he never left it, and never wished to leave it. Knowing all this, +the man accepted and believed every word of Joe's story. James +believed it, because he hoped it. He listened respectfully to Joe's +declamation on the meanness of trade, and then he rubbed his hands, +and said humbly that he ventured to hope, when the sale of the +business came on, Mr. Joseph would let him have a chance.</p> + +<p>"You?" asked Joe. "I never thought of you. But why not? Why not, I +say? Why not you as well as anybody else?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody but me, Mr. Joseph, knows what the business is, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a>[22]</span> how it +might be improved; and I could make arrangements for paying by regular +instalments."</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll talk about it when the time comes. I won't forget. +Sailors, you know, can't be expected to understand the value of shops. +Say, James, what does the commodore do all day?"</p> + +<p>"Sits in there and adds up his investments."</p> + +<p>"Always doing that—eh? Always adding 'em up? Ah, and you've never got +a chance of looking over his shoulder, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Never."</p> + +<p>"You may find that chance, one of these days. I should like to know, +if only for curiosity, what they are and where they are. He sits in +there and adds 'em up. Yes—I've seen him at it. There must be +thousands by this time."</p> + +<p>"Thousands," said the assistant, in the belief that the more you add +up a sum the larger it grows.</p> + +<p>Joe walked into the back shop and tried the safe.</p> + +<p>"Where are the keys?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Always in his pocket or on the table before him. He don't leave them +about."</p> + +<p>"Or you'd ha' known pretty sharp all there is to know—eh, my lad? +Well, you're a foxy one, you are, if ever there was one. Let's be +pals, you and me. When the old man goes, you want the shop—well, I +don't see why you shouldn't have the shop. Somebody must have the +shop; and it will be mine to do what I please with. As for his +savings, he says they are all for Iris—well, wills have been set +aside before this. Do you think now, seriously, do you think, James +that the old man is quite right—eh? Don't answer in a hurry. Do you +think, now, that he is quite right in his chump?"</p> + +<p>James laughed.</p> + +<p>"He's right enough, though he throws away his chances."</p> + +<p>"Throws away his chances. How the deuce can he be all right then? Did +you ever hear of a bookseller in his right mind throwing away his +chances?"</p> + +<p>"Why—no—for that matter—"</p> + +<p>"Very well, then; for that matter, don't forget that you've seen him +throw away all his chances—all his chances, you said. You are ready +to swear to that. Most important evidence, that, James." James had not +said "all," but he grunted, and the other man went on: "It may come in +useful, this recollection. Keep your eyes wide-open, my red haired +pirate. As for the moldy old shop, you may consider it as good as your +own. Why, I suppose you'll get somebody else to handle the paste-brush +and the scissors, and tie up the parcels, and water the shop—eh? +You'll be too proud to do that for yourself, you will."</p> + +<p>Mr. James grinned and rubbed his hands.</p> + +<p>"All your own—eh? Well, you'll wake 'em up a bit, won't you?"</p> + +<p>Mr. James grinned again—he continued grinning.</p> + +<p>"Go on, Mr. Joseph," he said; "go on—I like it."</p> + +<p>"Consider the job as settled, then. As for terms they shall be easy; +I'm not a hard man. And—I say, Foxy, about that safe?"</p> + +<p>Mr. James suddenly ceased grinning, because he observed a look in his +patron's eyes which alarmed him.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a>[23]</span> </p> + +<p>"About that safe. You must find out for me where the old man has put +his money, and what it is worth. Do you hear? Or else—"</p> + +<p>"How can I find out? He won't tell me any more than you."</p> + +<p>"Or else you must put me in the way of finding out." Mr. Joseph +lowered his voice to a whisper. "He keeps the keys on the table before +him. When a customer takes him out here, he leaves the keys behind +him. Do you know the key of the safe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know it."</p> + +<p>"What is to prevent a clever, quick-eyed fellow like you, mate, +stepping in with a bit of wax—eh? While he is talking, you know. You +could rush it in a moment."</p> + +<p>"It's—it's dangerous, Mr. Joseph."</p> + +<p>"So it is—rather dangerous—not much. What of that?"</p> + +<p>"I would do anything I could to be of service to you, Mr. Joseph; but +that's not honest, and it's dangerous."</p> + +<p>"Dangerous! There's danger in the briny deep and shipwreck on the +blast, if you come to danger. Do we, therefore, jolly mariners afloat +ever think of that? Never. As to honesty, don't make a man sick."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Mr. Joseph. If you'll give me a promise in writing, that +I'm to have the shop, as soon as you get it, at a fair valuation and +easy terms—say ten per cent down, and—"</p> + +<p>"Stow it, mate; write what you like, and I'll sign it. Now about that +key?"</p> + +<p>"Supposing you was to get a duplicate key, and supposing you was to +get into trouble about it, Mr. Joseph, should you—should you—I only +put it to you—should you up and round upon the man as got you that +key?"</p> + +<p>"Foxy, you are as suspicious as a Chinaman. Well, then, do it this +way. Send it me in a letter, and then who is to know where the letter +came from?"</p> + +<p>The assistant nodded.</p> + +<p>"Then I think I can do the job, though not, perhaps, your way. But I +think I can do it. I won't promise for a day or two."</p> + +<p>"There you spoke like an honest pal and a friendly shipmate. +Dangerous! Of course it is. When the roaring winds do blow—Hands upon +it, brother. Foxy, you've never done a better day's work. You are too +crafty for any sailor—you are, indeed. Here, just for a little key—"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Mr. Joseph! Oh, pray—pray don't talk so loud! You don't know +who may be listening. There's Mr. Lala Roy. You never hear him +coming."</p> + +<p>"Just for a trifle of a key, you are going to get possession of the +best book-shop in all Chelsea. Well, keep your eyes skinned and the +wax ready, will you? And now, James, I'll be off."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, Mr. Joseph, wait a moment!" James was beginning to realize +what he had promised. "If anything dreadful should come of this? I +don't know what is in the safe. There may be money as well as papers."</p> + +<p>"James, do you think I would steal? Do you mean to insinuate that I am +a thief, sir? Do you dare to suspect that I would take money?"</p> + +<p>James certainly looked as if he had thought even that possible.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a>[24]</span> </p> + +<p>"I shall open the safe, take out the papers, read them, and put them +back just as I found them. Will that do for you?"</p> + +<p>He shook hands again, and took himself off.</p> + +<p>At seven o'clock Mr. Emblem came down-stairs again.</p> + +<p>"Has any one been?" he asked as usual.</p> + +<p>"Only Mr. Joseph."</p> + +<p>"What might Mr. Joseph want?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all."</p> + +<p>"Then," said his grandfather, "Mr. Joseph might just as well have kept +away."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Let us anticipate a little. James spent the next day hovering about in +the hope that an opportunity would offer of getting the key in his +possession for a few moments. There was no opportunity. The bunch of +keys lay on the table under the old man's eyes all day, and when he +left the table he carried them with him. But the day afterward he got +his chance. One of the old customers called to talk over past bargains +and former prizes. Mr. Emblem came out of the back shop with his +visitor, and continued talking with him as far as the door. As he +passed the table—James's table—he rested the hand which carried the +keys on it, and left them there. James pounced upon them and slipped +them into his pocket noiselessly. Mr. Emblem returned to his own chair +and thought nothing of the keys for an hour and a half by the clock, +and during this period James was out on business. When Mr. Emblem +remembered his keys, he felt for them in their usual place and missed +them, and then began searching about and cried out to James that he +had lost his bunch of keys.</p> + +<p>"Why, sir," said James, bringing them to him, after a little search, +and with a very red face, "here they are; you must have left them on +my table."</p> + +<p>And in this way the job was done.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>IRIS THE HERALD.</h3> +<p> </p> +<p>By a somewhat remarkable coincidence it was on this very evening that +Iris first made the acquaintance of her pupil, Mr. Arnold Arbuthnot. +These coincidences, I believe, happen oftener in real life than they +do even on the stage, where people are always turning up at the very +nick of time and the critical moment.</p> + +<p>I need little persuasion to make me believe that the first meeting of +Arnold Arbuthnot and Iris, on the very evening when her cousin was +opening matters with the Foxy one, was nothing short of Providential. +You shall see, presently, what things might have happened if they had +not met. The meeting was, in fact, the second of the three really +important events in the life of a girl. The first, which is seldom +remembered with the gratitude which it deserves, is her birth; the +second, the first meeting with her future lover; the third, her +wedding-day; the other events of a woman's life are interesting, +perhaps, but not important.</p> + +<p>Certain circumstances, which will be immediately explained, connected + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a>[25]</span> with this meeting, made it an event of very considerable interest to +Iris, even though she did not suspect its immense importance. So much +interest that she thought of nothing else for a week beforehand; that +as the appointed hour drew near she trembled and grew pale; that when +her grandfather came up for his tea, she, who was usually so quick to +discern the least sign of care or anxiety in his face, actually did +not observe the trouble, plainly written in his drooping head and +anxious eyes, which was due to his interview with Mr. David Chalker.</p> + +<p>She poured out the tea, therefore, without one word of sympathy. This +would have seemed hard if her grandfather had expected any. He did +not, however, because he did not know that the trouble showed in his +face, and was trying to look as if nothing had happened. Yet in his +brain were ringing and resounding the words, "Within three +weeks—within three weeks," with the regularity of a horrid clock at +midnight, when one wants to go to sleep.</p> + +<p>"Oh," cried Iris, forced, as young people always are, to speak of her +own trouble, "oh, grandfather, he is coming to-night."</p> + +<p>"Who is coming to-night, my dear?" and then he listened again for the +ticking of the clock: "Within three weeks—within three weeks." "Who +is coming to-night, my dear?"</p> + +<p>He took the cup of tea from her, and sat down with an old man's +deliberation, which springs less from wisdom and the fullness of +thought that from respect to rheumatism.</p> + +<p>The iteration of that refrain, "Within three weeks," made him forget +everything, even the trouble of his granddaughter's mind.</p> + +<p>"Oh, grandfather, you cannot have forgotten!"</p> + +<p>She spoke with the least possible touch of irritation, because she had +been thinking of this thing for a week past, day and night, and it was +a thing of such stupendous interest to her, that it seemed impossible +that anyone who knew of it could forget what was coming.</p> + +<p>"No, no." The old man was stimulated into immediate recollection by +the disappointment in her eyes. "No, no, my dear, I have not +forgotten. Your pupil is coming. Mr. Arbuthnot is coming. But, Iris, +child, don't let that worry you. I will see him for you, if you like."</p> + +<p>"No; I must see him myself. You see, dear, there is the awful +deception. Oh, how shall I tell him?"</p> + +<p>"No deception at all," he said stoutly. "You advertised in your own +initials. He never asked if the initials belonged to a man or to a +woman. The other pupils do not know. Why should this one? What does it +matter to him if you have done the work for which he engaged your +services?"</p> + +<p>"But, oh, he is so different! And the others, you know, keep to the +subject."</p> + +<p>"So should he, then. Why didn't he?"</p> + +<p>"But he hasn't. And I have been answering him, and he must think that +I was drawing him on to tell me more about himself; and now—oh, what +will he think? I drew him on and on—yet I didn't mean to—till at +last he writes to say that he regards me as the best friend and the +wisest adviser he has ever had. What will he think and say? +Grandfather, it is dreadful!"</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a>[26]</span> </p> + +<p>"What did you tell him for, Iris, my dear? Why couldn't you let things +go on? And by telling him you will lose your pupil."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course; and, worse still, I shall lose his letters. We live +so quietly here that his letters have come to me like news of another +world. How many different worlds are there all round one in London? It +has been pleasant to read of that one in which ladies go about +beautifully dressed always, and where the people have nothing to do +but to amuse themselves. He has told me about this world in which he +lives, and about his own life, so that I know everything he does, and +where he goes; and"—here she sighed heavily—"of course it could not +go on forever; and I should not mind so much if it had not been +carried on under false pretenses."</p> + +<p>"No false pretenses at all, my dear. Don't think it."</p> + +<p>"I sent back his last check," she said, trying to find a little +consolation for herself. "But yet—"</p> + +<p>"Well, Iris," said her grandfather, "he wanted to learn heraldry, and +you have taught him."</p> + +<p>"For the last three months"—the girl blushed as if she was confessing +her sins—"for the last three months there has not been a single word +in his letters about heraldry. He tells me that he writes because he +is idle, or because he wants to talk, or because he is alone in his +studio, or because he wants his unknown friend's advice. I am his +unknown friend, and I have been giving him advice."</p> + +<p>"And very good advice, too," said her grandfather benevolently. "Who +is so wise as my Iris?"</p> + +<p>"I have answered all his letters, and never once told him that I am +only a girl."</p> + +<p>"I am glad you did not tell him, Iris," said her grandfather; but he +did not say why he was glad. "And why can't he go on writing his +letters without making any fuss?"</p> + +<p>"Because he says he must make the acquaintance of the man—the man, he +says—with whom he has been in correspondence so long. This is what he +says."</p> + +<p>She opened a letter which lay upon a table covered with papers, but +her grandfather stopped her.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, I do not want to know what he says. He wishes to make +your acquaintance. Very good, then. You are going to see him, and to +tell him who you are. That is enough. But as for deceiving"—he +paused, trying to understand this extreme scrupulosity of +conscience—"if you come to deceiving—well, in a kind sort of a way +you did allow him to think his correspondent a man. I admit that. What +harm is done to him? None. He won't be so mean, I suppose, as to ask +for his money back again."</p> + +<p>"I think he ought to have it all back," said Iris; "yes, all from the +very beginning. I am ashamed that I ever took any money from him. My +face burns when I think of it."</p> + +<p>To this her grandfather made no reply. The returning of money paid for +services rendered was, to his commercial mind, too foolish a thing to +be even talked about. At the same time, Iris was quite free to manage +her own affairs. And then there was that roll of papers in the safe. +Why, what matter if she sent away all her pupils? He changed the +subject.</p> + +<p>"Iris, my dear," he said, "about this other world, where the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a>[27]</span> people +amuse themselves; the world which lives in the squares and in the big +houses on the Chelsea Embankment here, you know—how should you like, +just for a change, to belong to that world and have no work to do?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she replied carelessly, because the question did not +interest her.</p> + +<p>"You would have to leave me, of course. You would sever your +connection, as they say, with the shop."</p> + +<p>"Please, don't let us talk nonsense, grandfather."</p> + +<p>"You would have to be ashamed, perhaps, of ever having taught for your +living."</p> + +<p>"Now that I never should be—never, not if they made me a duchess."</p> + +<p>"You would go dressed in silk and velvet. My dear, I should like to +see you dressed up just for once, as we have seen them at the +theater."</p> + +<p>"Well, I should like one velvet dress in my life. Only one. And it +should be crimson—a beautiful, deep, dark crimson."</p> + +<p>"Very good. And you would drive in a carriage instead of an omnibus; +you would sit in the stalls instead of the upper circle; you would +give quantities of money to poor people; and you would buy as many +second hand books as you pleased. There are rich people, I believe, +ostentatious people, who buy new books. But you, my dear, have been +better brought up. No books are worth buying till they have stood the +criticism of a whole generation at least. Never buy new books, my +dear."</p> + +<p>"I won't," said Iris. "But, you dear old man, what have you got in +your head to-night? Why in the world should we talk about getting +rich?"</p> + +<p>"I was only thinking," he said, "that perhaps, you might be so much +happier—"</p> + +<p>"Happier? Nonsense! I am as happy as I can be. Six pupils already. To +be sure I have lost one," she sighed; "and the best among them all."</p> + +<p>When her grandfather left her, Iris placed candles on the +writing-table, but did not light them, though it was already pretty +dark. She had half an hour to wait; and she wanted to think, and +candles are not necessary for meditation. She sat at the open window +and suffered her thoughts to ramble where they pleased. This is a +restful thing to do, especially if your windows look upon a tolerably +busy but not noisy London road. For then, it is almost as good as +sitting beside a swiftly-running stream; the movement of the people +below is like the unceasing flow of the current; the sound of the +footsteps is like the whisper of the water along the bank; the echo of +the half heard talk strikes your ear like the mysterious voices wafted +to the banks from the boats as they go by; and the lights of the shops +and the street presently become spectral and unreal like lights seen +upon the river in the evening.</p> + +<p>Iris had a good many pupils—six, in fact, as she had boasted; why, +then, was she so strangely disturbed on account of one?</p> + +<p>An old tutor by correspondence may be, and very likely is, indifferent +about his pupils, because he has had so many; but Iris was a young +tutor, and had as yet known few. One of her pupils, for <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a>[28]</span> instance, was +a gentleman in the fruit and potato line, in the Borough. By reason of +his early education, which had not been neglected so much as entirely +omitted, he was unable to personally conduct his accounts. Now a +merchant without his accounts is as helpless as a tourist without his +Cook. So that he desired, in his mature age, to learn book keeping, +compound addition, subtraction, and multiplication. He had no +partners, so that he did not want division. But it is difficult—say, +well-nigh impossible—for a middle-aged merchant, not trained in the +graces of letter-writing, to inspire a young lady with personal +regard, even though she is privileged to follow the current of his +thoughts day by day, and to set him his sums.</p> + +<p>Next there was a young fellow of nineteen or twenty, who was beginning +life as an assistant-teacher in a commercial school at Lower Clapton. +This way is a stony and a thorny path to tread; no one walks upon it +willingly; those who are compelled to enter upon it speedily either +run away and enlist, or they go and find a secluded spot in which to +hang themselves. The smoother ways of the profession are only to be +entered by one who is the possessor of a degree, and it was the +determination of this young man to pass the London University +Examinations, and to obtain the degree of Bachelor. In this way his +value in the educational market would be at once doubled, and he could +command a better place and lighter work. He showed himself, in his +letters, to be an eminently practical, shrewd, selfish, and +thick-skinned young man, who would quite certainly get on in the +world, and was resolved to lose no opportunities, and, with that view, +he took as much work out of his tutor as he could get for the money. +Had he known that the "I.A." who took such a wonderful amount of +trouble with his papers was only a woman, he would certainly have +extorted a great deal more work for his money. All this Iris read in +his letters and understood. There is no way in which a man more surely +and more naturally reveals his true character than in his +correspondence, so that after awhile, even though the subject of the +letters be nothing more interesting than the studies in hand, those +who write the letters may learn to know each other if they have but +the mother wit to read between the lines. Certainly this young +schoolmaster did not know Iris, nor did he desire to discover what she +was like, being wholly occupied with the study of himself. Strange and +kindly provision of Nature. The less desirable a man actually appears +to others, the more fondly he loves and believes in himself. I have +heard it whispered that Narcissus was a hunchback.</p> + +<p>Then there was another pupil, a girl who was working her very hardest +in order to become, as she hoped, a first-class governess, and who, +poor thing! by reason of her natural thickness would never reach even +the third rank. Iris would have been sorry for her, because she worked +so fiercely, and was so stupid, but there was something hard and +unsympathetic in her nature which forbade pity. She was miserably +poor, too, and had an unsuccessful father, no doubt as stupid as +herself, and made pitiful excuses for not forwarding the slender fees +with regularity.</p> + +<p>Everybody who is poor should be, on that ground alone, worthy of pity +and sympathy. But the hardness and stupidity, and the ill-temper, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a>[29]</span> all +combined and clearly shown in her letters, repelled her tutor. Iris, +who drew imaginary portraits of her pupils, pictured the girl as plain +to look upon, with a dull eye, a leathery, pallid cheek, a forehead +without sunshine upon it, and lips which seldom parted with a smile.</p> + +<p>Then there was, besides, a Cambridge undergraduate. He was neither +clever, nor industrious, nor very ambitious; he thought that a +moderate place was quite good enough for him to aim at, and he found +that his unknown and obscure tutor by correspondence was cheap and +obliging, and willing to take trouble, and quite as efficacious for +his purposes as the most expensive Cambridge coach. Iris presently +discovered that he was lazy and luxurious, a deceiver of himself, a +dweller in Fool's Paradise and a constant shirker of work. Therefore, +she disliked him. Had she actually known him and talked with him, she +might have liked him better in spite of these faults and shortcomings, +for he was really a pleasant, easygoing youth, who wallowed in +intellectual sloth, but loved physical activity; who will presently +drop easily, and comfortably, and without an effort or a doubt, into +the bosom of the Church, and will develop later on into an admirable +country parson, unless they disestablish the Establishment: in which +case, I do not know what he will do.</p> + +<p>But this other man, this man who was coming for an explanation, this +Mr. Arnold Arbuthnot, was, if you please, a very different kind of +pupil. In the first place he was a gentleman, a fact which he +displayed, not ostentatiously, in every line of his letters; next, he +had come to her for instruction—the only pupil she had in that +science, in heraldry, which she loved. It is far more pleasant to be +describing a shield and settling questions in the queer old language +of this queer old science, than in solving and propounding problems in +trigonometry and conic sections. And then—how if your pupil begins to +talk round the subject and to wander into other things? You cannot +very well talk round a branch of mathematics, but heraldry is a +subject surrounded by fields, meadows, and lawns, so to speak, all +covered with beautiful flowers. Into these the pupil wandered, and +Iris not unwillingly followed. Thus the teaching of heraldry by +correspondence became the most delightful interchange of letters +imaginable, set off and enriched with a curious and strange piquancy, +derived from the fact that one of them, supposed to be an elderly man, +was a young girl, ignorant of the world except from books, and the +advice given her by two old men, who formed all her society. Then, as +was natural, what was at first a kind of play, became before long a +serious and earnest confidence on the one side, and a hesitating +reception on the other.</p> + +<p>Latterly he more than once amused himself by drawing an imaginary +portrait of her; it was a pleasing portrait, but it made her feel +uneasy.</p> + +<p>"I know you," he said, "from your letters, but yet I want to know you +in person. I think you are a man advanced in years." Poor Iris! and +she not yet twenty-one. "You sit in your study and read; you wear +glasses, and your hair is gray; you have a kind heart and a cheerful +voice; you are not rich—you have never tried to make yourself rich; +you are therefore little versed in the ways of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a>[30]</span> mankind; you take your +ideas chiefly from books; the few friends you have chosen are true and +loyal; you are full of sympathy, and quick to read the thoughts of +those in whom you take an interest." A very fine character, but it +made Iris's cheek to burn and her eyes to drop. To be sure she was not +rich, nor did she know the world; so far her pupil was right, but yet +she was not gray nor old. And, again, she was not, as he thought, a +man.</p> + +<p>Letter-writing is not extinct, as it is a commonplace to affirm, and +as people would have us believe. Letters are written still—the most +delightful letters—letters as copious, as charming, as any of the +last century; but men and women no longer write their letters as +carefully as they used to do in the old days, because they were then +shown about, and very likely read aloud. Our letters, therefore, +though their sentences are not so balanced nor their periods so +rounded, are more real, more truthful, more spontaneous, and more +delightful than the laborious productions of our ancestors, who had to +weigh every phrase, and to think out their bon mots, epigrams, and +smart things for weeks beforehand, so that the letter might appear +full of impromptu wit. I should like, for instance, just for once, to +rob the outward or the homeward mail, in order to read all the +delightful letters which go every week backward and forward between +the folk in India and the folk at home.</p> + +<p>"I shall lose my letters," Iris recollected, and her heart sunk. Not +only did her correspondent begin to draw these imaginary portraits of +her, but he proceeded to urge upon her to come out of her concealment, +and to grant him an interview. This she might have refused, in her +desire to continue a correspondence which brightened her monotonous +life. But there came another thing, and this decided her. He began to +give, and to ask, opinions concerning love, marriage, and such +topics—and then she perceived it could not possibly be discussed with +him, even in domino and male disguise. "As for love," her pupil wrote, +"I suppose it is a real and not a fancied necessity of life. A man, I +mean, may go on a long time without it, but there will come a time—do +not you think so?—when he is bound to feel the incompleteness of life +without a woman to love. We ought to train our boys and girls from the +very beginning to regard love and marriage as the only things really +worth having, because without them there is no happiness. Give me your +own experience. I am sure you must have been in love at some time or +other in your life."</p> + +<p>Anybody will understand that Iris could not possibly give her own +experience in love-matters, nor could she plunge into speculative +philosophy of this kind with her pupil. Obviously the thing must come +to an end. Therefore she wrote a letter to him, telling him that +"I.A." would meet him, if he pleased, that very evening at the hour of +eight.</p> + +<p>It is by this time sufficiently understood that Iris Aglen professed +to teach—it is an unusual combination—mathematics and heraldry; she +might also have taught equally well, had she chosen, sweetness of +disposition, goodness of heart, the benefits conferred by pure and +lofty thoughts on the expression of a girl's face, and the way to +acquire all the other gracious, maidenly virtues; but either there is +too limited a market for these branches of culture, or—which is +perhaps <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a>[31]</span> the truer reason—there are so many English girls, not to +speak of Americans, who are ready and competent to teach them, and do +teach them to their brothers, and their lovers, and to each other, and +to their younger sisters all day long.</p> + +<p>As for her heraldry, it was natural that she should acquire that +science, because her grandfather knew as much as any Pursuivant or +King-at-Arms, and thought that by teaching the child a science which +is nowadays cultivated by so few, he was going to make her fortune. +Besides, ever mindful of the secret packet, he thought that an heiress +ought to understand heraldry. It was, indeed, as you shall see, in +this way that her fortune was made; but yet not quite in the way he +proposed to make it. Nobody ever makes a fortune quite in the way at +first intended for him.</p> + +<p>As for her mathematics, it is no wonder that she was good in this +science, because she was a pupil of Lala Roy.</p> + +<p>This learned Bengalee condescended to acknowledge the study of +mathematics as worthy even of the Indian intellect, and amused himself +with them when he was not more usefully engaged in chess. He it was +who, being a lodger in the house, taught Iris almost as soon as she +could read how letters placed side by side may be made to signify and +accomplish stupendous things, and how they may disguise the most +graceful and beautiful curves, and how they may even open a way into +boundless space, and there disclose marvels. This wondrous world did +the philosopher open to the ready and quick-witted girl; nor did he +ever lead her to believe that it was at all an unusual or an +extraordinary thing for a girl to be so quick and apt for science as +herself, nor did he tell her that if she went to Newnham or to Girton, +extraordinary glories would await her, with the acclamations of the +multitude in the Senate House and the praise of the Moderators. Iris, +therefore, was not proud of her mathematics, which seemed part of her +very nature. But of her heraldry she was, I fear, extremely +proud—proud even to sinfulness. No doubt this was the reason why, +through her heraldry, the humiliation of this evening fell upon her.</p> + +<p>"If he is young," she thought, "if he is young—and he is sure to be +young—he will be very angry at having opened his mind to a girl"—it +will be perceived that, although she knew so much mathematics, she was +really very ignorant of the opposite sex, not to know that a young man +likes nothing so much as the opening of his mind to a young lady. "If +he is old, he will be more humiliated still"—as if any man at any age +was ever humiliated by confessing himself to a woman. "If he is a +proud man, he will never forgive me. Indeed, I am sure that he can +never forgive me, whatever kind of man he is. But I can do no more +than tell him I am sorry. If he will not forgive me then, what more +can I say? Oh, if he should be vindictive!"</p> + +<p>When the clock began to strike the hour of eight, Iris lighted her +candles, and before the pulsation of the last stroke had died away, +she heard the ringing of the house-bell.</p> + +<p>The door was opened by her grandfather himself, and she heard his +voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "you will find your tutor, in the first floor front, + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a>[32]</span> alone. If you are inclined to be vindictive, when you hear all, +please ring the bell for me."</p> + +<p>The visitor mounted the stairs, and Iris, hearing his step, began to +tremble and to shake for fear.</p> + +<p>When the door opened she did not at first look up. But she knew that +her pupil was there, and that he was looking for his tutor.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me"—the voice was not unpleasant—"pardon me. I was directed +to this room. I have an appointment with my tutor."</p> + +<p>"If," said Iris, rising, for the time for confession had at length +arrived, "if you are Mr. Arnold Arbuthnot, your appointment is, I +believe, with me."</p> + +<p>"It is with my tutor," he said.</p> + +<p>"I am your tutor. My initials are I.A."</p> + +<p>The room was only lighted by two candles, but they showed him the +hanging head and the form of a woman, and he thought she looked young, +judging by the outline. Her voice was sweet and clear.</p> + +<p>"My tutor? You?"</p> + +<p>"If you really are Mr. Arnold Arbuthnot, the gentleman who has +corresponded with I.A. for the last two years on heraldry, and—and +other things, I am your tutor."</p> + +<p>She had made the dreaded confession. The rest would be easy. She even +ventured to raise her eyes, and she perceived, with a sinking of the +heart, that her estimate of her pupil's age was tolerably correct. He +was a young man, apparently not more than five or six and twenty.</p> + +<p>It now remained to be seen if he was vindictive.</p> + +<p>As for the pupil, when he recovered a little from the blow of this +announcement, he saw before him a girl, quite young, dressed in a +simple gray or drab colored stuff, which I have reason to believe is +called Carmelite. The dress had a crimson kerchief arranged in folds +over the front, and a lace collar, and at first sight it made the +beholder feel that, considered merely as a setting of face and figure, +it was remarkably effective. Surely this is the true end and aim of +all feminine adornment, apart from the elementary object of keeping +one warm.</p> + +<p>"I—I did not know," the young man said, after a pause, "I did not +know at all that I was corresponding with a lady."</p> + +<p>Here she raised her eyes again, and he observed that the eyes were +very large and full of light—"eyes like the fishpools of +Heshbon"—dove's eyes.</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry," she said meekly. "It was my fault."</p> + +<p>He observed other things now, having regained the use of his senses. +Thus he saw that she wore her hair, which was of a wonderful chestnut +brown color, parted at the side like a boy's, and that she had not +committed the horrible enormity of cutting it short. He observed, too, +that while her lips were quivering and her cheek was blushing, her +look was steadfast. Are dove's eyes, he asked himself, always +steadfast?</p> + +<p>"I ought to have told you long ago, when you began to write +about—about yourself and other things, when I understood that you +thought I was a man—oh, long ago I ought to have told you the truth!"</p> + +<p>"It is wonderful!" said the young man, "it is truly wonderful!" <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a>[33]</span> He +was thinking of the letters—long letters, full of sympathy, and a +curious unworldly wisdom, which she had sent him in reply to his own, +and he was comparing them with her youthful face, as one involuntarily +compares a poet's appearance with his poetry—generally a +disappointing thing to do, and always a foolish thing.</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry," she repeated.</p> + +<p>"Have you many pupils, like myself?"</p> + +<p>"I have several pupils in mathematics. It does not matter to them +whether they are taught by a man or a woman. In heraldry I had only +one—you."</p> + +<p>He looked round the room. One end was occupied by shelves, filled with +books; in one of the windows was a table, covered with papers and +adorned with a type-writer, by means of which Iris carried on her +correspondence. For a moment the unworthy thought crossed his mind +that he had been, perhaps, artfully lured on by a siren for his +destruction. Only for a moment, however, because she raised her face +and met his gaze again, with eyes so frank and innocent, that he could +not doubt them. Besides, there was the clear outline of her face, so +truthful and so honest. The young man was an artist, and therefore +believed in outline. Could any sane and intelligent creature doubt +those curves of cheek and chin?</p> + +<p>"I have put together," she said, "all your letters for you. Here they +are. Will you, please, take them back? I must not keep them any +longer." He took them, and bowed. "I made this appointment, as you +desired, to tell you the truth, because I have deceived you too long: +and to beg you to forgive me; and to say that, of course, there is an +end to our correspondence."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. It shall be as you desire. Exactly," he repeated, "as you +desire."</p> + +<p>He ought to have gone at once. There was nothing more to say. Yet he +lingered, holding the letters in his hand.</p> + +<p>"To write these letters," he said, "has been for a long time one of +my greatest pleasures, partly because I felt that I was writing to a +friend, and so wrote in full trust and confidence; partly because they +procured me a reply—in the shape of your letters. Must I take back +these letters of mine?"</p> + +<p>She made no answer.</p> + +<p>"It is hard, is it not, to lose a friend so slowly acquired, thus +suddenly and unexpectedly?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "it is hard. I am very sorry. It was my fault."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I have said something, in my ignorance—something which ought +not to have been said or written—something careless—something which +has lowered me in your esteem—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no—no!" said Iris quickly. "You have never said anything that a +gentleman should not have said."</p> + +<p>"And if you yourself found any pleasure in answering my letters—"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Iris with frankness, "it gave me great pleasure to read +and to answer your letters, as well as I could."</p> + +<p>"I have not brought back your letters. I hope you will allow me to +keep them. And, if you will, why should we not continue our +correspondence as before?" <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a>[34]</span> But he did not ask the question +confidently.</p> + +<p>"No," said Iris decidedly "it can never be continued as before. How +could it, when once we have met, and you have learned the truth?"</p> + +<p>"Then," he continued, "if we cannot write to each other any more, can +we not talk?"</p> + +<p>She ought to have informed him on the spot that the thing was quite +impossible, and not to be thought of for one moment. She should have +said, coldly, but firmly—every right-minded and well-behaved girl +would have said—"Sir, it is not right that you should come alone to a +young lady's study. Such things are not to be permitted. It we meet in +society, we may, perhaps, renew our acquaintance."</p> + +<p>But girls do go on sometimes as if there was no such thing as +propriety at all, and such cases are said to be growing more frequent. +Besides, Iris was not a girl who was conversant with social +convenances. She looked at her pupil thoughtfully and frankly.</p> + +<p>"Can we?" she asked. She who hesitates is lost, a maxim which cannot +be too often read, said, and studied. It is one of the very few golden +rules omitted from Solomon's Proverbs. "Can we? It would be pleasant."</p> + +<p>"It you will permit me," he blushed and stammered, wondering at her +ready acquiescence, "if you will permit me to call upon you +sometimes—here, if you will allow me, or anywhere else. You know my +name. I am by profession an artist, and I have a studio close at hand +in Tite Street."</p> + +<p>"To call upon me here?" she repeated.</p> + +<p>Now, when one is a tutor, and has been reading with a pupil for two +years, one regards that pupil with a feeling which may not be exactly +parental, but which is unconventional. If Arnold had said, "Behold me! +May I, being a young man, call upon you, a young woman?" she would +have replied: "No, young man, that can never be." But when he said, +"May I, your pupil, call sometimes upon you, my tutor?" a distinction +was at once established by which the impossible became possible.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "I think you may call. My grandfather has his tea +with me every evening at six. You may call then if it will give you +any pleasure."</p> + +<p>"You really will let me come here?"</p> + +<p>The young man looked as if the permission was likely to give him the +greatest pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Yes; if you wish it."</p> + +<p>She spoke just exactly like an Oxford Don giving an undergraduate +permission to take an occasional walk with him, or to call for +conversation and advice at certain times in his rooms. Arnold noticed +the manner, and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Still," he said, "as your pupil."</p> + +<p>He meant to set her at her ease concerning the propriety of these +visits. She thought he meant a continuation of a certain little +arrangement as to fees, and blushed.</p> + +<p>"No," she said; "I must not consider you as a pupil any longer. You +have put an end to that yourself."</p> + +<p>"I do not mind, if only I continue your friend."</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a>[35]</span> </p> + +<p>"Oh," she said, "but we must not pledge ourselves rashly to +friendship. Perhaps you will not like me when you once come to know +me."</p> + +<p>"Then I remain your disciple."</p> + +<p>"Oh no," she flushed again, "you must already think me presumptuous +enough in venturing to give you advice. I have written so many foolish +things—"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, no," he interrupted, "a thousand times no. Let me tell you +once for all, if I may, that you have taught me a great deal—far more +than you can ever understand, or than I can explain. Where did you get +your wisdom? Not from the Book of Human Life. Of that you cannot know +much as yet."</p> + +<p>"The wisdom is in your imagination, I think. You shall not be my pupil +nor my disciple, but—well—because you have told me so much, and I +seem to have known you so long, and, besides, because you must never +feel ashamed of having told me so much, you shall come, if you please, +as my brother."</p> + +<p>It was not till afterward that she reflected on the vast +responsibilities she incurred in making this proposal, and on the +eagerness with which her pupil accepted it.</p> + +<p>"As your brother!" he cried, offering her his hand. "Why, it is +far—far more than I could have ventured to hope. Yes, I will come as +your brother. And now, although you know so much about me, you have +told me nothing about yourself—not even your name."</p> + +<p>"My name is Iris Aglen."</p> + +<p>"Iris! It is a pretty name!"</p> + +<p>"It was, I believe, my grandmother's. But I never saw her, and I do +not know who or what my father's relations are."</p> + +<p>"Iris Aglen!" he repeated. "Iris was the Herald of the Gods, and the +rainbow was constructed on purpose to serve her for a way from Heaven +to the Earth."</p> + +<p>"Mathematicians do not allow that," said the girl, smiling.</p> + +<p>"I don't know any mathematics. But now I understand in what school you +learned your heraldry. You are Queen-at-Arms at least, and Herald to +the Gods of Olympus."</p> + +<p>He wished to add something about the loveliness of Aphrodite, and the +wisdom of Athene, but he refrained, which was in good taste.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Arbuthnot," Iris replied. "I learned my heraldry of my +grandfather, who taught himself from the books he sells. And my +mathematics I learned of Lala Roy, who is our lodger, and a learned +Hindoo gentleman. My father is dead—and my mother as well—and I have +no friends in the world except these two old men, who love me, and +have done their best to spoil me."</p> + +<p>Her eyes grew humid and her voice trembled.</p> + +<p>No other friends in the world! Strange to say, this young man felt a +little sense of relief. No other friends. He ought to have sympathized +with the girl's loneliness; he might have asked her how she could +possibly endure life without companionship, but he did not; he only +felt that other friends might have been rough and ill-bred; this girl +derived her refinement, not only from nature, but also from separation +from the other girls who might in the ordinary course have been her +friends and associates. And if no other <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a>[36]</span> friends, then no lover. +Arnold was only going to visit the young lady as her brother; but +lovers do not generally approve the introduction of such novel effects +as that caused by the appearance of a brand-new and previously +unsuspected brother. He was glad, on the whole, that there was no +lover.</p> + +<p>Then he left her, and went home to his studio, where he sat till +midnight, sketching a thousand heads one after the other with rapid +pencil. They were all girls' heads, and they all had hair parted on +the left side, with a broad, square forehead, full eyes, and straight, +clear-cut features.</p> + +<p>"No," he said, "it is no good. I cannot catch the curve of her +mouth—nobody could. What a pretty girl! And I am to be her brother! +What will Clara say? And how—oh, how in the world can she be, all at +the same time, so young, so pretty, so learned, so quick, so +sympathetic, and so wise?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>THE WOLF AT HOME.</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p>There is a certain music-hall, in a certain street, leading out of a + certain road, and this is quite clear and definite enough. Its + distinctive characteristics, above any of its fellows, is a vulgarity + so profound, that the connoisseur or student in that branch of mental + culture thinks that here at last he has reached the lowest depths. For + this reason one shrinks from actually naming it, because it might + become fashionable, and then, if it fondly tried to change its + character to suit its changed audience, it might entirely lose its + present charm, and become simply commonplace.</p> +<p>Joe Gallop stood in the doorway of this hall, a few days after the +Tempting of Mr. James. It was about ten o'clock, when the +entertainments were in full blast. He had a cigarette between his +lips, as becomes a young man of fashion, but it had gone out, and he +was thinking of something. To judge from the cunning look in his eyes, +it was something not immediately connected with the good of his +fellow-creatures. Presently the music of the orchestra ceased, and +certain female acrobats, who had been "contorting" themselves +fearfully and horribly for a quarter of an hour upon the stage, kissed +their hands, which were as hard as ropes, from the nature of their +profession, and smiled a fond farewell. There was some applause, but +not much, because neither man nor woman cares greatly for female +acrobats, and the performers themselves are with difficulty persuaded +to learn their art, and generally make haste to "go in" again as soon +as they can, and try henceforward to forget that they have ever done +things with ropes and bars.</p> + +<p>Joe, when they left the stage, ceased his meditations, whatever may +have been their subject, lit a fresh cigarette, and assumed an air of +great expectation, as if something really worth seeing and hearing +were now about to appear. And when the chairman brought down the +hammer with the announcement that Miss Carlotta Claradine, the +People's Favorite, would now oblige, it was Joe who loudly led the way +for a tumultuous burst of applause. Then <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a>[37]</span> the band, which at this +establishment, and others like unto it, only plays two tunes, one for +acrobats, and one for singers, struck up the second air, and the +People's Favorite appeared. She may have had by nature a sweet and +tuneful voice; perhaps it was in order to please her friends, the +people, that, she converted it into a harsh and rasping voice, that +she delivered her words with even too much gesture, and that she +uttered a kind of shriek at the beginning of every verse, which was +not in the composer's original music, but was thrown in to compel +attention. She was dressed with great simplicity, in plain frock, +apron, and white cap, to represent a fair young Quakeress, and she +sung a song about her lover with much "archness"—a delightful quality +in woman.</p> + +<p>"Splendid, splendid! Bravo!" shouted Joseph at the end of the first +verse. "That fetches 'em, don't it, sir? Positively drags 'em, in, +sir."</p> + +<p>He addressed his words, without turning his head, to a man who had +just come in, and was gazing at him with unbounded astonishment.</p> + +<p>"You here, Joe??" he said.</p> + +<p>Joe started.</p> + +<p>"Why, Chalker, who'd have thought to meet you in this music-hall?"</p> + +<p>"It's a good step, isn't it? And what are you doing, Joe? I heard +you'd left the P. and O. Company."</p> + +<p>"Had to," said Joe. "A gentleman has no choice but to resign. Ought +never to have gone there. There's no position, Chalker—no position at +all in the service. That is what I felt. Besides, the uniform, for a +man of my style, is unbecoming. And the captain was a cad."</p> + +<p>"Humph! and what are you doing then? Living on the old man again?"</p> + +<p>"Never you mind, David Chalker," replied Joe with dignity; "I am not +likely to trouble you any more after the last time I called upon you."</p> + +<p>"Well, Joe," said the other, without taking offense, "it is not my +business to lend money without a security, and all you had to offer +was your chance of what your grandfather might leave you—or might +not."</p> + +<p>"And a very good security too, if he does justice to his relations."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but how did I know whether he was going to do justice? Come, +Joe, don't be shirty with an old friend."</p> + +<p>There was a cordiality in the solicitor's manner which boded well. Joe +was pretty certain that Mr. Chalker was not a man to cultivate +friendship unless something was to be got out of it. It is only the +idle and careless who can waste time over unprofitable friendships. +With most men friendship means assisting in each other's little games, +so that every man must become, on occasion, bonnet, confederate, and +pal, for his friend, and may expect the same kindly office for +himself.</p> + +<p>If Chalker wished to keep up his old acquaintance with Joe Gallop, +there must be some good reason. Now the only reason which suggested +itself to Joe at that moment was that Chalker had lately drawn a new +will for the old man, and that he himself might be in <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a>[38]</span> it. Here he was +wrong. The only reason of Mr. Chalker's friendly attitude was +curiosity to know what Joe was doing, and how he was living.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Chalker," Joe whispered, "you used to pretend to be a pal. +What's the good of being a pal if you won't help a fellow? You see my +grandfather once a week or so; you shut the door and have long talks +with him. If you know what he's going to do with his money, why not +tell a fellow? Let's make a business matter of it."</p> + +<p>"How much do you know, Joe, and what is your business proposal worth?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all; that's the honest truth—I know nothing. The old +man's as tight as wax. But there's other business in the world besides +his. Suppose I know of something a precious sight better than his +investments, and suppose—just suppose—that I wanted a lawyer to +manage it for me?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"Encore! Bravo! Encore! Bravo!" Joe banged his stick on the floor and +shouted because the singer ended her first song. He looked so fierce +and big, that all the bystanders made haste to follow his example.</p> + +<p>"Splendid, isn't she?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Hang the singer! What do you mean by other business?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it's nothing. Perhaps there will be thousands in it. And +perhaps I can get on without you, after all."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Joe. Get on without me if you like."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Chalker," Joe laid a persuasive hand on the other's arm, +"can't we two be friendly? Why don't you give a fellow a lift? All I +want to know is where the old man's put his money, and how he's left +it."</p> + +<p>"Suppose I do know," Mr. Chalker replied, wishing ardently that he +did, "do you think I am going to betray trust—a solicitor betray +trust—and for nothing? But if you want to talk real business, Joe, +come to my office. You know where that is."</p> + +<p>Joe knew very well; in fact, there had been more than one difficulty +which had been adjusted through Mr. Chalker's not wholly disinterested +aid.</p> + +<p>Then the singer appeared again attired in a new and startling dress, +and Joe began once more to applaud again with voice and stick. Mr. +Chalker, surprised at this newly-developed enthusiasm for art, left +him and walked up the hall, and sat down beside the chairman, whom he +seemed to know. In fact, the chairman was also the proprietor of the +show, and Mr. Chalker was acting for him in his professional capacity, +much as he had acted for Mr. Emblem.</p> + +<p>"Who is your new singer?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"She calls herself Miss Carlotta Claradine. She's a woman, let me tell +you, Mr. Chalker, who will get along. Fine figure, plenty of cheek, +loud voice, flings herself about, and don't mind a bit when the words +are a leetle strong. That's the kind of singer the people like. That's +her husband, at the far end of the room—the big, good-looking chap +with the light mustache and the cigarette in his mouth."</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a>[39]</span> </p> + +<p>"Whew!" Mr. Chalker whistled the low note which indicates Surprise. +"That's her husband, is it? The husband of Miss Carlotta Claradine, is +it? Oho! oho! Her husband! Are you sure he is her husband?"</p> + +<p>"Do you know him, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know him. What was the real name of the girl?"</p> + +<p>"Charlotte Smithers. This is her first appearance on any stage—and we +made up the name for her when we first put her on the posters. I made +it myself—out of Chlorodyne, you know, which is in the +advertisements. Sounds well, don't it? Carlotta Claradine."</p> + +<p>"Very well, indeed. By Jove! Her husband, is he?"</p> + +<p>"And, I suppose," said the chairman, "lives on his wife's salary. +Bless you, Mr. Chalker, there's a whole gang about every theater and +music hall trying to get hold of the promising girls. It's a regular +profession. Them as have nothing but their good looks may do for the +mashers, but these chaps look out for the girls who'll bring in the +money. What's a pretty face to them compared with the handling of a +big salary every week? That's the sort Carlotta's husband belongs to."</p> + +<p>"Well, the life will suit him down to the ground."</p> + +<p>"And jealous with it, if you please. He comes here every night to +applaud and takes her home himself. Keeps himself sober on purpose."</p> + +<p>And then the lady appeared again in a wonderful costume of blue silk +and tights, personating the Lion Masher. It was her third and last +song.</p> + +<p>In the applause which followed, Mr. Chalker could discern plainly the +stick as well as the voice of his old friend. And he thought how +beautiful is the love of husband unto wife, and he smiled, thinking +that when Joe came next to see him, he might, perhaps, hear truths +which he had thought unknown, and, for certain reasons, wished to +remain unknown.</p> + +<p>Presently he saw the singer pass down the hall, and join her husband, +who now, his labors ended, was seeking refreshment at the bar. She was +a good-looking girl—still only a girl, and apparently under +twenty—quietly dressed, yet looking anything but quiet. But that +might have been due to her fringe, which was, so to speak, a +prominent-feature in her face. She was tall and well-made, with large +features, an ample cheek, a full eye, and a wide mouth. A +good-natured-looking girl, and though her mouth was wide, it suggested +smiles. The husband was exchanging a little graceful badinage with the +barmaid when she joined him, and perhaps this made her look a little +cross. "She's jealous, too," said Mr. Chalker, observant; "all the +better." Yet a face which, on the whole, was prepossessing and good +natured, and betokened a disposition to make the best of the world.</p> + +<p>"How long has she been married?" Mr. Chalker asked the proprietor.</p> + +<p>"Only about a month or so."</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Chalker proceeded to talk business, and gave no further hint of +any interest in the newly-married pair.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a>[40]</span> </p> + +<p>"Now, Joe," said the singer, with a freezing glance at the barmaid, +"are you going to stand here all night?"</p> + +<p>Joe drank off his glass and followed his wife into the street. They +walked side by side in silence, until they reached their lodgings. +Then she threw off her hat and jacket, and sat down on the horsehair +sofa and said abruptly:</p> + +<p>"I can't do it, Joe; and I won't. So don't ask me."</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit—wait a bit, Lotty, my love. Don't be in a hurry, now. +Don't say rash things, there's a good girl." Joe spoke quite softly, +as if he were not the least angry, but, perhaps, a little hurt. +"There's not a bit of a hurry. You needn't decide to-day, nor yet +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't do it," she said. "Oh, it's a dreadful, wicked thing even +to ask me. And only five weeks to-morrow since we married!"</p> + +<p>"Lotty, my dear, let us be reasonable." He still spoke quite softly. +"If we are not to go on like other people; if we are to be continually +bothering our heads about honesty, and that rubbish, we shall be +always down in the world. How do other people make money and get on? +By humbug, my dear. By humbug. As for you, a little play-acting is +nothing."</p> + +<p>"But I am not the man's daughter, and my own father's alive and well."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Lotty. You are always grumbling about the music-halls."</p> + +<p>"Well, and good reason to grumble. If you heard those ballet girls +talk, and see how they go on at the back, you'd grumble. As for the +music—" She laughed, as if against her will. "If anybody had told me +six months ago—me, that used to go to the Cathedral Service every +afternoon—that I should be a Lion Masher at a music-hall and go on +dressed in tights, I should have boxed his ears for impudence."</p> + +<p>"Why, you don't mean to tell me, Lotty, that you wish you had stuck to +the moldy old place, and gone on selling music over the counter?"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, perhaps I do."</p> + +<p>"No, no, Lotty; your husband cannot let you say that."</p> + +<p>"My husband can laugh and talk with barmaids. That makes him happy."</p> + +<p>"Lotty," he said, "you are a little fool. And think of the glory. +Posters with your name in letters a foot and a half long—'The +People's Favorite.' Why, don't they applaud you till their hands drop +off?"</p> + +<p>She melted a little.</p> + +<p>"Applaud! As if that did any good! And me in tights!"</p> + +<p>"As for the tights," Joe replied with dignity, "the only person whom +you need consult on that subject is your husband; and since I do not +object, I should like to see the man who does. Show me that man, +Lotty, and I'll straighten him out for you. You have my perfect +approval, my dear. I honor you for the tights."</p> + +<p>"My husband's approval!"</p> + +<p>She repeated his words again in a manner which had been on other +occasions most irritating to him. But to-night he refused to be +offended.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a>[41]</span> </p> + +<p>"Of course," he went on, "as soon as I get a berth on another ship I +shall take you off the boards. It is the husband's greatest delight, +especially if he is a jolly sailor, to brave all dangers for his wife. +Think, Lotty, how pleasant it would be not to do any more work."</p> + +<p>"I should like to sing sometimes, to sing good music, at the great +concerts. That's what I thought I was going to do."</p> + +<p>"You shall; you shall sing as little or as often as you like. 'A +sailor's wife a sailor's star should be.' You shall be a great lady, +Lotty, and you shall just command your own line. Wait a bit, and you +shall have your own carriage, and your own beautiful house, and go to +as many balls as you like among the countesses and the swells."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Joe!" she laughed. "Why, if we were as rich as anything, I should +never get ladies to call upon me. And as for you, no one would ever +take you to be a gentleman, you know."</p> + +<p>"Why, what do you call me, now?"</p> + +<p>He laughed, but without much enjoyment. No one likes to be told that +he is not a gentleman, whatever his own suspicions on the subject may +be.</p> + +<p>"Never mind. I know a gentleman when I see one. Go on with your +nonsense about being rich."</p> + +<p>"I shall make you rich, Lotty, whether you like it or not," he said, +still with unwonted sweetness.</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Not by wickedness," she said stoutly.</p> + +<p>"I've got there," he pulled a bundle of papers out of his pockets, +"all the documents wanted to complete the case. All I want now is for +the rightful heiress to step forward."</p> + +<p>"I'm not the rightful heiress, and I'm not the woman to step forward, +Joe; so don't you think it."</p> + +<p>"I've been to-day," Joe continued, "to Doctors' Commons, and I've seen +the will. There's no manner of doubt about it; and the money—oh, +Lord, Lotty, if you only knew how much it is!"</p> + +<p>"What does it matter, Joe, how much it is, if it is neither yours nor +mine?"</p> + +<p>"It matters this: that it ought all to be mine."</p> + +<p>"How can that be, if it was not left to you?"</p> + +<p>Joe was nothing if not a man of resource. He therefore replied without +hesitation or confusion:</p> + +<p>"The money was left to a certain man and to his heirs. That man is +dead. His heiress should have succeeded, but she was kept out of her +rights. She is dead, and I am her cousin, and entitled to all her +property, because she made no will."</p> + +<p>"Is that gospel truth, Joe? Is she dead? Are you sure?"</p> + +<p>"Quite sure," he replied. "Dead as a door-nail."</p> + +<p>"Is that the way you got the papers?"</p> + +<p>"That's the way, Lotty."</p> + +<p>"Then why not go to a lawyer and make him take up the case for you, +and honestly get your own?"</p> + +<p>"You don't know law, my dear, or you wouldn't talk nonsense about +lawyers. There are two ways. One is to go myself to the present +unlawful possessor and claim the whole. It's a woman; she <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a>[42]</span> would be +certain to refuse, and then we should go to law, and very likely lose +it all, although the right is on our side. The other way is for some +one—say you—to go to her and say: 'I am that man's daughter. Here +are my proofs. Here are all his papers. Give me back my own.' That you +could do in the interests of justice, though I own it is not the exact +truth."</p> + +<p>"And if she refuses then?"</p> + +<p>"She can't refuse, with the man's daughter actually standing before +her. She might make a fuss for a bit. But she would have to give in at +last."</p> + +<p>"Joe, consider. You have got some papers, whatever they may contain. +Suppose that it is all true that you have told me—"</p> + +<p>"Lotty, my dear, when did I ever tell you an untruth?"</p> + +<p>"When did you ever tell me the truth, my dear? Don't talk wild. +Suppose it is all true, how are you going to make out where your +heiress has been all this time, and what she has been doing?"</p> + +<p>"Trust me for that."</p> + +<p>"I trust you for making up something or other, but—oh, Joe, you +little think, you clever people, how seldom you succeed in deceiving +any one."</p> + +<p>"I've got such a story for you, Lotty, as would deceive anybody. +Listen now. It's part truth, and part—the other thing. Your father—"</p> + +<p>"My father, poor dear man," Lotty interrupted, "is minding his +music-shop in Gloucester, and little thinking what wickedness his +daughter is being asked to do."</p> + +<p>"Hang it! the girl's father, then. He died in America, where he went +under another name, and you were picked up by strangers and reared +under that name, in complete ignorance of your own family. All which +is true and can be proved."</p> + +<p>"Who brought her up?"</p> + +<p>"People in America. I'm one of 'em."</p> + +<p>"Who is to prove that?"</p> + +<p>"I am. I am come to England on purpose. I am her guardian."</p> + +<p>"Who is to prove that you are the girl's guardian?"</p> + +<p>"I shall find somebody to prove that."</p> + +<p>His thoughts turned to Mr. Chalker, a gentleman whom he judged capable +of proving anything he was paid for.</p> + +<p>"And suppose they ask me questions?"</p> + +<p>"Don't answer 'em. You know very little. The papers were only found +the other day. You are not expected to know anything."</p> + +<p>"Where was the real girl?"</p> + +<p>"With her grandfather."</p> + +<p>"Where was the grandfather?"</p> + +<p>"What does that matter?" he replied; "I will tell you afterward."</p> + +<p>"When did the real girl die?"</p> + +<p>"That, too, I will tell you afterward."</p> + +<p>Lotty leaned her cheek upon her hand, and looked at her husband +thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Let us be plain, Joe."</p> + +<p>"You can never be plain, my dear," he replied with the smile of a +lover, not a husband; "never in your husband's eyes; not even in +tights."</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a>[43]</span> </p> + +<p>But she was not to be won by flattery.</p> + +<p>"Fine words," she said, "fine words. What do they amount to? Oh, Joe, +little I thought when you came along with your beautiful promises, +what sort of a man I was going to marry."</p> + +<p>"A very good sort of a man," he said. "You've got a jolly sailor—an +officer and a gentleman. Come now, what have you got to say to this? +Can't you be satisfied with an officer and a gentleman?"</p> + +<p>He drew himself up to his full height. Well, he was a handsome fellow: +there was no denying it.</p> + +<p>"Good looks and fine words," his wife went on. "Well, and now I've got +to keep you, and if you could make me sing in a dozen halls every +night, you would, and spend the money on yourself—joyfully you +would."</p> + +<p>"We would spend it together, my dear. Don't turn rusty, Lotty."</p> + +<p>He was not a bad-tempered man, and this kind of talk did not anger him +at all. So long as his wife worked hard and brought in the coin for +him to spend, what mattered for a few words now and then? Besides, he +wanted her assistance.</p> + +<p>"What are you driving at?" he went on. "I show you a bit of my hand, +and you begin talking round and round. Look here, Lotty. Here's a +splendid chance for us. I must have a woman's help. I would rather +have your help than any other woman's—yes, than any other woman's in +the world. I would indeed. If you won't help me, why, then, of course, +I must go to some other woman."</p> + +<p>His wife gasped and choked. She knew already, after only five weeks' +experience, how bad a man he was—how unscrupulous, false, and +treacherous, how lazy and selfish. But, after a fashion, she loved +him; after a woman's fashion, she was madly jealous of him. Another +woman! And only the other night she had seen him giving +brandy-and-soda to one of the music-hall ballet-girls. Another woman!</p> + +<p>"If you do, Joe," she said; "oh, if you do—I will kill her and you +too!"</p> + +<p>He laughed.</p> + +<p>"If I do, my dear, you don't think I shall be such a fool as to tell +you who she is. Do you suppose that no woman has ever fallen in love +with me before you? But then, my pretty, you see I don't talk about +them; and do you suppose—oh, Lotty, are you such a fool as to suppose +that you are the first girl I ever fell in love with?"</p> + +<p>"What do you want me to do? Tell me again."</p> + +<p>"I have told you already. I want you to become, for the time, the +daughter of the man who died in America; you will claim your +inheritance; I will provide you with all the papers; I will stand by +you; I will back you up with such a story as will disarm all +suspicion. That is all."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I understand. Haven't people been sent to prison for less, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"Foolish people have. Not people who are well advised and under good +management. Mind you, this business is under my direction. I am boss."</p> + +<p>She made no reply, but took her candle and went off to bed.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a>[44]</span> </p> + +<p>In the dead of night she awakened her husband.</p> + +<p>"Joe," she said, "is it true that you know another girl who would do +this for you?"</p> + +<p>"More than one, Lotty," he replied, this man of resource, although he +was only half awake. "More than one. A great many more. Half-a-dozen, +I know, at least."</p> + +<p>She was silent. Half an hour afterward she woke him up again.</p> + +<p>"Joe," she said, "I've made up my mind. You sha'n't say that I refused +to do for you what any other girl in the world would have done."</p> + +<p>As a tempter it will be seen that Joe was unsurpassed.</p> + +<p>It was now a week since he had received, carefully wrapped in wool, +and deposited in a wooden box dispatched by post, a key, newly made. +It was, also, very nearly a week since he had used that key. It was +used during Mr. Emblem's hour for tea, while James waited and watched +outside in an agony of terror. But Joe did not find what he wanted. +There were in the safe one or two ledgers, a banker's book, a +check-book, and a small quantity of money. But there were not any +records at all of monies invested. There were no railway certificates, +waterwork shares, transfers, or notes of stock, mortgages, loans, or +anything at all. The only thing that he saw was a roll of papers tied +up with red tape. On the roll was written: "For Iris. To be given to +her on her twenty-first birthday."</p> + +<p>"What the deuce is this, I wonder?" Joe took this out and looked at it +suspiciously. "Can he be going to give her all his money before he +dies? Is he going to make her inherit it at once?" The thought was so +exasperating that he slipped the roll into his pocket. "At all +events," he said, "she sha'n't have them until I have read them first. +I dare say they won't be missed for a day or two."</p> + +<p>He calculated that he could read and master the contents that night, +and put back the papers in the safe in the morning while James was +opening the shop.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing, James," he whispered as he went out, the safe being +locked again. "There is nothing at all. Look here, my lad, you must +try another way of finding out where the money is."</p> + +<p>"I wish I was sure that he hasn't carried off something in his +pocket," James murmured.</p> + +<p>Joe spent the whole evening alone, contrary to his usual practice, +which was, as we have seen, to spend it at a certain music-hall. He +read the papers over and over again.</p> + +<p>"I wish," he said at length, "I wish I had known this only two months +ago. I wish I had paid more attention to Iris. What a dreadful thing +it is to have a grandfather who keeps secrets from his grandson. What +a game we might have had over this job! What a game we might have +still if—"</p> + +<p>And here he stopped, for the first germ or conception of a magnificent +coup dawned upon him, and fairly dazzled him so that his eyes saw a +bright light and nothing else.</p> + +<p>"If Lotty would," he said. "But I am afraid she won't hear of it." He +sprung to his feet and caught sight of his own face in the looking +glass over the fireplace. He smiled. "I will try," he said, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a>[45]</span> "I think +I know by this time, how to get round most of 'em. Once they get to +feel there are other women in the world besides themselves, they're +pretty easy worked. I will try."</p> + +<p>One has only to add to the revelations already made that Joe paid a +second visit to the shop, this time early in the morning. The shutters +were only just taken down. James was going about with that remarkable +watering-pot only used in shops, which has a little stream running out +of it, and Mr. Emblem was upstairs slowly shaving and dressing in his +bedroom. He walked in, nodded to his friend the assistant, opened the +safe, and put back the roll.</p> + +<p>"Now," he murmured, "if the old man has really been such a +dunder-headed pump as not to open the packet all these years, what the +devil can he know? The name is different; he hasn't got any clew to +the will; he hasn't got the certificate of his daughter's marriage, or +of the child's baptism—both in the real name. He hasn't got anything. +As for the girl here, Iris, having the same christian-name, that's +nothing. I suppose there is more than one woman with such a fool of a +name as that about in the world.</p> + +<p>"Foxy," he said cheerfully, "have you found anything yet about the +investments? Odd, isn't it? Nothing in the safe at all. You can have +your key back."</p> + +<p>He tossed him the key carelessly and went away.</p> + +<p>The question of his grandfather's savings was grown insignificant +beside this great and splendid prize which lay waiting for him. What +could the savings be? At best a few thousands; the slowly saved thrift +of fifty years; nobody knew better than Joe himself how much his own +profligacies had cost his grandfather; a few thousands, and those +settled on his Cousin Iris, so that, to get his share, he would have +to try every kind of persuasion unless he could get up a case for law. +But the other thing—why, it was nearly all personal estate, so far as +he could learn by the will, and he had read it over and over again in +the room at Somerset House, with the long table in it, and the +watchful man who won't let anybody copy anything. What a shame, he +thought, not to let wills be copied! Personalty sworn under a hundred +and twenty thousand, all in three per cents, and devised to a certain +young lady, the testator's ward, in trust, for the testator's son, or +his heirs, when he or they should present themselves. Meantime, the +ward was to receive for her own use and benefit, year by year, the +whole income.</p> + +<p>"It is unfortunate," said Joe, "that we can't come down upon her for +arrears. Still, there's an income, a steady income, of three thousand +six hundred a year when the son's heirs present themselves. I should +like to call myself a solicitor, but that kite won't fly, I'm afraid. +Lotty must be the sole heiress. Dressed quiet, without any powder, and +her fringe brushed flat, she'd pass for a lady anywhere. Perhaps it's +lucky, after all, that I married her, though if I had had the good +sense to make up to Iris, who's a deuced sight prettier, she'd have +kept me going almost as well with her pupils, and set me right with +the old man and handed me over this magnificent haul for a finish. If +only the old man hasn't broken the seals and read the papers!"</p> + +<p>The old man had not, and Joe's fears were, therefore, groundless.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a>[46]</span> </p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>AS A BROTHER.</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p>Arnold immediately began to use the privilege accorded to him with a + large and liberal interpretation. If, he argued, a man is to be + treated as a brother, there should be the immediate concession of the + exchange of christian-names, and he should be allowed to call as often + as he pleases. Naturally he began by trying to read the secret of a + life self-contained, so dull, and yet so happy, so strange to his + experience.</p> +<p>"Is this, Iris?" he asked, "all your life? Is there nothing more?"</p> + +<p>"No," she said; "I think you have seen all. In the morning I have my +correspondence; in the afternoon I do my sewing, I play a little, I +read, or I walk, sometimes by myself, and sometimes with Lala Roy; in +the evening I play again, or I read again, or I work at the +mathematics, while my grandfather and Lala Roy have their chess. We +used to go to the theater sometimes, but of late my grandfather has +not gone. At ten we go to bed. That is all my life."</p> + +<p>"But, Iris, have you no friends at all, and no relations? Are there no +girls of your own age who come to see you?"</p> + +<p>"No, not one; I have a cousin, but he is not a good man at all. His +father and mother are in Australia. When he comes here, which is very +seldom, my grandfather falls ill only with thinking about him and +looking at him. But I have no other relations, because, you see, I do +not know who my father's people were."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Arnold, "you may be countess in your own right; you may +have any number of rich people and nice people for your cousins. Do +you not sometimes think of that?"</p> + +<p>"No" said Iris; "I never think about things impossible."</p> + +<p>"If I were you, I should go about the streets, and walk round the +picture-galleries looking for a face like your own. There cannot be +many. Let me draw your face, Iris, and then we will send it to the +Grosvenor, and label it, 'Wanted, this young lady's cousins.' You must +have cousins, if you could only find them out."</p> + +<p>"I suppose I must. But what if they should turn out to be rough and +disagreeable people?"</p> + +<p>"Your cousins could not be disagreeable, Iris," said Arnold.</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"One thing I should like," she replied. "It would be to find that my +cousins, if I have any, are clever people—astronomers, +mathematicians, great philosophers, and writers. But what nonsense it +is even to talk of such things; I am quite alone, except for my +grandfather and Lala Roy."</p> + +<p>"And they are old," murmured Arnold.</p> + +<p>"Do not look at me with such pity," said the girl. "I am very happy. I +have my own occupation; I am independent; I have my work to fill my +mind; and I have these two old gentlemen to care for and think +of. They have taken so much care of me that I ought to think of +nothing else but their comfort; and then there are the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a>[47]</span> books +down-stairs—thousands of beautiful old books always within my reach."</p> + +<p>"But you must have some companions, if only to talk and walk with."</p> + +<p>"Why, the books are my companions; and then Lala Roy goes for walks +with me; and as for talking, I think it is much more pleasant to +think."</p> + +<p>"Where do you walk?"</p> + +<p>"There is Battersea Park; there are the squares; and if you take an +omnibus, there are the Gardens and Hyde Park."</p> + +<p>"But never alone, Iris?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I am often alone. Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said Arnold, shirking the question, because this is a +civilized country, and in fact, why not? "I suppose that it is your +work which keeps you from feeling life dull and monotonous."</p> + +<p>"No life," she said, looking as wise as Newton, if Newton was ever +young and handsome—"no life can be dull when one is thinking about +mathematics all day. Do you study mathematics?"</p> + +<p>"No; I was at Oxford, you know."</p> + +<p>"Then perhaps you prefer metaphysics? Though Lala Roy says that the +true metaphysics, which he has tried to teach me, can only be reached +by the Hindoo intellect."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed; I have never read any metaphysics whatever. I have only +got the English intellect." This he said with intent satirical, but +Iris failed to understand it so, and thought it was meant for a +commendable humility.</p> + +<p>"Physical science, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"No, Iris. Philosophy, mathematics, physics, metaphysics, or science +of any kind have I never learned, except only the science of Heraldry, +which you have taught me, with a few other things."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" She wondered how a man could exist at all without learning these +things. "Not any science at all? How can any one live without some +science?"</p> + +<p>"I knew very well," he said, "that as soon as I was found out I should +be despised."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, not despised. But it seems such a pity—"</p> + +<p>"There is another kind of life, Iris, which you do not know. You must +let me teach you. It is the life of Art. If you would only condescend +to show the least curiosity about me, Iris, I would try to show you +something of the Art life."</p> + +<p>"How can I show curiosity about you, Arnold? I feel none."</p> + +<p>"No; that is just the thing which shames me. I have felt the most +lively curiosity about you, and I have asked you thousands of +impertinent questions."</p> + +<p>"Not impertinent, Arnold. If you want to ask any more, pray do. I dare +say you cannot understand my simple life."</p> + +<p>"And you ask me nothing at all about myself. It isn't fair, Iris."</p> + +<p>"Why should I? I know you already."</p> + +<p>"You know nothing at all about me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I know you very well indeed. I knew you before you came +here. You showed me yourself in your letters. You are exactly like the +portrait I drew of you. I never thought, for instance, that you were +an old gentleman, as you thought me." <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a>[48]</span> He laughed. It was a new thing +to see Iris using, even gently, the dainty weapons of satire.</p> + +<p>"But you do not know what I am, or what is my profession, or anything +at all about me."</p> + +<p>"No; I do not care to know. All that is not part of yourself. It is +outside you."</p> + +<p>"And because you thought you knew me from those letters, you suffer me +to come here and be your disciple still? Yet you gave me back my +letters?"</p> + +<p>"That was because they were written to me under a wrong impression."</p> + +<p>"Will you have them back again?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"I know them all by heart," she said simply.</p> + +<p>There was not the slightest sign of coquetry or flattery in her voice, +or in her eyes, which met his look with clear and steady gaze.</p> + +<p>"I cannot ask you to read my portrait to me as you drew it from those +pictures."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" She began to read him his portrait as readily as if she +were stating the conclusion of a problem. "I saw that you were young +and full of generous thoughts; sometimes you were indignant with +things as they are, but generally you laughed at them and accepted +them. It is, it seems, the nature of your friends to laugh a great +deal at things which they ought to remedy if they could; not laugh at +them. I thought that you wanted some strong stimulus to work; anybody +could see that you were a man of kindly nature and good-breeding. You +were careful not to offend by anything that you wrote, and I was +certain that you were a man of honor. I trusted you, Arnold, before I +saw your face, because I knew your soul."</p> + +<p>"Trust me still, Iris," he said in rather a husky voice.</p> + +<p>"Of course I did not know, and never thought, what sort of a man you +were to look at. Yet I ought to have known that you were handsome. I +should have guessed that from the very tone of your letters. A +hunchback or a cripple could not have written in so light-hearted a +strain, and I should have discovered, if I had thought of such a +thing, that you were very well satisfied with your personal +appearance. Young men should always be that, at least, if only to give +them confidence."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Iris—oh! Do you really think me conceited?"</p> + +<p>"I did not say that. I only said that you were satisfied with +yourself. That, I understand now, was clear, from many little natural +touches in your letters."</p> + +<p>"What else did you learn?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, a great deal—much more than I can tell you. I knew that you go +into society, and I learned from you what society means; and though +you tried to be sarcastic, I understood easily that you liked social +pleasure."</p> + +<p>"Was I sarcastic?"</p> + +<p>"Was it not sarcastic to tell me how the fine ladies, who affect so +much enthusiasm for art, go to see the galleries on the private-view +day, and are never seen in them again? Was it not sarcastic—"</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a>[49]</span> </p> + +<p>"Spare me, Iris. I will never do it again. And knowing so much, do you +not desire to know more?"</p> + +<p>"No, Arnold. I am not interested in anything else."</p> + +<p>"But my position, my profession, my people—are you not curious to +know them?"</p> + +<p>"No. They are not you. They are accidents of yourself."</p> + +<p>"Philosopher! But you must know more about me. I told you I was an +artist. But you have never inquired whether I was a great artist or a +little one."</p> + +<p>"You are still a little artist," she said. "I know that, without being +told. But perhaps you may become great when you learn to work +seriously."</p> + +<p>"I have been lazy," he replied with something like a blush, "but that +is all over now. I am going to work. I will give up society. I will +take my profession seriously, if only you will encourage me."</p> + +<p>Did he mean what he said? When he came away he used at this period to +ask himself that question, and was astonished at the length he had +gone. With any other girl in the world, he would have been taken at +his word, and either encouraged to go on, or snubbed on the spot. But +Iris received these advances as if they were a confession of weakness.</p> + +<p>"Why do you want me to encourage you?" she asked. "I know nothing +about Art. Can't you encourage yourself, Arnold?"</p> + +<p>"Iris, I must tell you something more about myself. Will you listen +for a moment? Well, I am the son of a clergyman who now holds a +colonial appointment. I have got the usual number of brothers and +sisters, who are doing the usual things. I will not bore you with +details about them."</p> + +<p>"No," said Iris, "please do not."</p> + +<p>"I am the adopted son, or ward, or whatever you please, of a certain +cousin. She is a single lady with a great income, which she promises +to bequeath to me in the future. In the meantime, I am to have +whatever I want. Do you understand the position, Iris?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think so. It is interesting, because it shows why you will +never be a great artist. But it is very sad."</p> + +<p>"A man may rise above his conditions, Iris," said Arnold meekly.</p> + +<p>"No," she went on; "it is only the poor men who do anything good. Lala +Roy says so."</p> + +<p>"I will pretend to be poor—indeed, I am poor. I have nothing. If it +were not for my cousin, I could not even profess to follow Art."</p> + +<p>"What a pity," she said, "that you are rich! Lala Roy was rich once."</p> + +<p>Arnold repressed an inclination to desire that Lala Roy might be kept +out of the conversation.</p> + +<p>"But he gave up all his wealth and has been happy, and a philosopher, +ever since."</p> + +<p>"I can't give up my wealth, Iris, because I haven't got any—I owe my +cousin everything. But for her, I should never even have known you."</p> + +<p>He watched her at her work in the morning when she sat patiently +answering questions, working out problems, and making papers. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a>[50]</span> She +showed him the letters of her pupils, exacting, excusing, +petulant—sometimes dissatisfied and even ill-tempered, he watched her +in the afternoon while she sewed or read. In the evening he sat with +her while the two old men played their game of chess. Regularly every +evening at half-past nine the Bengalee checkmated Mr. Emblem. Up to +that hour he amused himself with his opponent, formed ingenious +combinations, watched openings, and gradually cleared the board until +he found himself as the hour of half-past nine drew near, able to +propose a simple problem to his own mind, such as, "White moves first, +to mate in three, four, or five moves," and then he proceeded to solve +that problem, and checkmated his adversary.</p> + +<p>No one, not even Iris, knew how Lala Roy lived, or what he did in the +daytime. It was rumored that he had been seen at Simpson's in the +Strand, but this report wanted confirmation. He had lived in Mr. +Emblem's second floor for twenty years; he always paid his bills with +regularity, and his long spare figure and white mustache and fez were +as well known in Chelsea as any red-coated lounger among the old +veterans of the Hospital.</p> + +<p>"It is quiet for you in the evenings," said Arnold.</p> + +<p>"I play to them sometimes. They like to hear me play during the game. +Look at them."</p> + +<p>She sat down and played. She had a delicate touch, and played soft +music, such as soothes, not excites the soul. Arnold watched her, not +the old men. How was it that refinement, grave, self-possession, +manners, and the culture of a lady, could be found in one who knew no +ladies? But then Arnold did not know Lala Roy, nor did he understand +the old bookseller.</p> + +<p>"You are always wondering about me," she said, talking while she +played; "I see it in your eyes. Can you not take me as I am, without +thinking why I am different from other girls? Of course I am +different, because I know none of them."</p> + +<p>"I wish they were all like you," he said.</p> + +<p>"No; that would be a great pity. You want girls who understand your +own life, and can enter into your pursuits—you want companions who +can talk to you; go back to them, Arnold, as soon as you are tired of +coming here."</p> + +<p>And yet his instinct was right which told him that the girl was not a +coquette. She had no thought—not the least thought—as yet that +anything was possible beyond the existing friendship. It was pleasant, +but Arnold would get tired of her, and go back to his own people. Then +he would remain in her memory as a study of character. This she did +not exactly formulate, but she had that feeling. Every woman makes a +study of character about every man in whom she becomes ever so little +interested. But we must not get conceited, my brothers, over this +fact. The converse, unhappily, does not hold true. Very few men ever +study the character of a woman at all. Either they fall in love with +her before they have had time to make more than a sketch, and do not +afterward pursue the subject, or they do not fall in love with her at +all; and in the latter case it hardly seems worth while to follow up a +first rough draft.</p> + +<p>"Checkmate," said Lala Roy.</p> + +<p>The game was finished and the evening over. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a>[51]</span> "Would you like," he +said, another evening, "to see my studio, or do you consider my studio +outside myself?"</p> + +<p>"I should very much like to see an artist's studio," she replied with +her usual frankness, leaving it an open question whether she would not +be equally pleased to see any other studio.</p> + +<p>She came, however, accompanied by Lala Roy, who had never been in a +studio before, and indeed had never looked at a picture, except with +the contemptuous glance which the philosopher bestows upon the follies +of mankind. Yet he came, because Iris asked him. Arnold's studio is +one of the smallest of those in Tite Street. Of course it is built of +red brick, and of course it has a noble staircase and a beautiful +painting-room or studio proper all set about with bits of tapestry, +armor, pictures, and china, besides the tools and properties of the +craft. He had portfolios full of sketches; against the wall stood +pictures, finished and unfinished; on an easel was a half-painted +picture representing a group taken from a modern novel. Most painters +only draw scenes from two novels—the "Vicar of Wakefield" and "Don +Quixote;" but Arnold knew more. The central figure was a girl, quite +unfinished—in fact, barely sketched in.</p> + +<p>Iris looked at everything with the interest which belongs to the new +and unexpected.</p> + +<p>Arnold began to show the pictures in the portfolios. There were +sketches of peasant life in Norway and on the Continent; there were +landscapes, quaint old houses, and castles; there were ships and +ports; and there were heads—hundreds of heads.</p> + +<p>"I said you might be a great artist," said Iris. "I am sure now that +you will be if you choose."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Iris. It is the greatest compliment you could pay me."</p> + +<p>"And what is this?" she was before the easel on which stood the +unfinished picture.</p> + +<p>"It is a scene from a novel. But I cannot get the principal face. None +of the models are half good enough. I want a sweet face, a serious +face, a face with deep, beautiful eyes. Iris"—it was a sudden +impulse, an inspiration—"let me put your face there. Give me my first +commission."</p> + +<p>She blushed deeply. All these drawings, the multitudinous faces and +heads and figures in the portfolio were a revelation to her. And just +at the very moment when she discovered that Arnold was one of those +who worship beauty—a thing she had never before understood—he told +her that her face was so beautiful that he must put in his picture.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arnold," she said, "my face would be out of place in that +picture."</p> + +<p>"Would it? Please sit down, and let me make a sketch."</p> + +<p>He seized his crayons and began rapidly.</p> + +<p>"What do you say, Lala Roy?" he asked by way of diversion.</p> + +<p>"The gifts of the understanding," said the Sage, "are the treasures of +the Lord; and He appointeth to every one his portion."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," replied Arnold. "Very true and very apt, I'm sure. Iris, +please, your face turned just a little. So. Ah, if I can but do some +measure of justice to your eyes!"</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a>[52]</span> </p> + +<p>When Iris went away, there was for the first time the least touch of +restraint or self-consciousness in her. Arnold felt it. She showed it +in her eyes and in the touch of her fingers when he took her hand at +parting. It was then for the first time also that Arnold discovered a +truth of overwhelming importance. Every new fact—everything which +cannot be disputed or denied, is, we all know, of the most enormous +importance. He discovered no less a truth than that he was in love +with Iris. So important is this truth to a young man that it reduces +the countless myriads of the world to a single pair—himself and +another; it converts the most arid waste of streets into an Eden; and +it blinds the eyes to ambition, riches, and success. Arnold sat down +and reasoned out this truth. He said coldly and "squarely:"</p> + +<p>"This is a girl whom I have known only a fortnight or so; she lives +over a second-hand bookshop; she is a teacher by profession; she knows +none of the ways of society; she would doubtless be guilty of all +kinds of queer things, if she were suddenly introduced to good people; +probably, she would never learn our manners," with more to the same +effect, which may be reasonably omitted. Then his Conscience woke up, +and said quite simply: "Arnold, you are a liar." Conscience does +sometimes call hard names. She is feminine, and therefore privileged +to call hard names. Else we would sometimes kick and belabor +Conscience. "Arnold, don't tell more lies. You have been gradually +learning to know Iris, through the wisest and sweetest letters that +were ever written, for a whole year. You gradually began to know her, +in fact, when you first began to interlard your letters with conceited +revelations about yourself. You knew her to be sympathetic, quick, and +of a most kind and tender heart. You are quite sure, though you try to +disguise the fact, that she is as honest as the day, and as true as +steel. As for her not being a lady, you ought to be ashamed of +yourself for even thinking such a thing. Has she not been tenderly +brought up by two old men who are full of honor, and truth, and all +the simple virtues? Does she not look, move, and speak like the most +gracious lady in the land?" "Like a goddess," Arnold confessed. "As +for the ways and talk of society, what are these worth? and cannot +they be acquired? And what are her manners save those of the most +perfect refinement and purity?" Thus far Conscience. Then Arnold, or +Arnold's secret <i>advocatus diaboli</i>, began upon another and quite +different line. "She must have schemed at the outset to get me into +her net; she is a siren; she assumes the disguise of innocence and +ignorance the better to beguile and to deceive. She has gone home +to-day elated because she thinks she has landed a gentleman."</p> + +<p>Conscience said nothing; there are some things to which Conscience has +no reply in words to offer; yet Conscience pointed to the portrait of +the girl, and bade the most unworthy of all lovers look upon even his +own poor and meager representation of her eyes and face, and ask +whether such blasphemies could ever be forgiven.</p> + +<p>After a self abasement, which for shame's sake we must pass over, the +young man felt happier.</p> + +<p>Henry the Second felt much the same satisfaction the morning <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a>[53]</span> after +his scourging at the hands of the monks, who were as muscular as they +were vindictive.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>COUSIN CLARA.</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p>That man who spends his days in painting a girl's portrait, in talking + to her, and in gazing upon the unfinished portrait when she is not + with him, and occupies his thoughts during the watches of the night in + thinking about her, is perilously near to taking the last and fatal + step. Flight for such a man is the only thing left, and he so seldom + thinks of flight until it is too late.</p> +<p>Arnold was at this point.</p> + +<p>"I am possessed by this girl," he might have said had he put his +thoughts into words. "I am haunted by her eyes; her voice lingers on +my ears; I dream of her face, the touch of her fingers is like the +touch of an electric battery." What symptoms are these, so common that +one is almost ashamed to write them down, but the infallible symptoms +of love? And yet he hesitated, not because he doubted himself any +longer, but because he was not independent, and such an engagement +might deprive him at one stroke of all that he possessed. Might? It +certainly would. Yes, the new and beautiful studio, all the things in +it, all his prospects for the future, would have to be given up. "She +is worth more than that," said Arnold, "and I should find work +somehow. But yet, to plunge her into poverty—and to make Clara the +most unhappy of women!"</p> + +<p>The reason why Clara would be made the most unhappy of women, was that +Clara was his cousin and his benefactor, to whom he owed everything. +She was the kindest of patrons, and she liked nothing so much as the +lavishing upon her ward everything that he could desire. But she also, +unfortunately, illustrated the truth of Chaucer's teaching, in that +she loved power more than anything else, and had already mapped out +Arnold's life for him.</p> + +<p>It was his custom to call upon her daily, to use her house as his own. +When they were separated, they wrote to each other every day; the +relations between them were of the most intimate and affectionate +kind. He advised in all her affairs, while she directed his; it was +understood that he was her heir, and though she was not more than five +and forty or so, and had, apparently, a long life still before her, so +that the succession was distant, the prospect gave him importance. She +had been out of town, and perhaps the fact of a new acquaintance with +so obscure a person as a simple tutor by correspondence, seemed to +Arnold not worth mentioning. At all events, he had not mentioned it in +his daily letters.</p> + +<p>And now she was coming home; she was actually arrived; he would see +her that evening. Her last letter was lying before him.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I parted from dear Stella yesterday. She goes to stay with +the Essex Mainwarings for a month; after that, I hope that +she will give me a long visit. I do not know where one could +find a sweeter girl, or one more eminently calculated to +make a man happy. Beautiful, strictly speaking, she is not, +perhaps, but of excellent <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a>[54]</span> connections, not without a +portion, young, clever, and ambitious. With such a wife, my +dear Arnold, a man may aspire to anything."</p></div> + +<p>"To anything!" repeated Arnold; "what is her notion of anything? She +has arrived by this time." He looked at his watch and found it was +past five. "I ought to have been at the station to meet her. I must go +round and see her, and I must dine with her to-night." He sighed +heavily. "It would be much pleasanter to spend the evening with Iris."</p> + +<p>Then a carriage stopped at his door. It was his cousin, and the next +minute he was receiving and giving the kiss of welcome. For his own +part, he felt guilty, because he could put so little heart into that +kiss, compared with all previous embraces. She was a stout, hearty +little woman, who could never have been in the least beautiful, even +when she was young. Now on the middle line, between forty and fifty, +she looked as if her face had been chopped out of the marble by a rude +but determined artist, one who knew what he wanted and would tolerate +no conventional work. So that her face, at all events, was, if not +unique, at least unlike any other face one had ever seen. Most faces, +we know, can be reduced to certain general types—even Iris's face +might be classified—while of yours, my brother, there are, no doubt, +multitudes. Miss Holland, however, had good eyes—bright, clear +gray—the eyes of a woman who knows what she wants and means to get it +if she can.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear," she said, taking the one comfortable chair in the +studio, "I am back again, and I have enjoyed my journey very much; we +will have all the travels this evening. You are looking splendid, +Arnold!"</p> + +<p>"I am very well indeed. And you, Clara? But I need not ask."</p> + +<p>"No, I am always well. I told you about dear Stella, did I not? I +never had a more delightful companion."</p> + +<p>"So glad you liked her."</p> + +<p>"If only, Arnold, you would like her too. But I know"—for Arnold +changed color—"I know one must not interfere in these matters. But +surely one may go so far with a young man one loves as to say, 'Here +is a girl of a million.' There is not, Arnold, I declare, her equal +anywhere; a clearer head I never met, or a better educated girl, or +one who knows what a man can do, and how he can be helped to do it."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Clara," Arnold said coldly; "I dare say I shall discover +the young lady's perfections in time."</p> + +<p>"Not, I think, without some help. She is not an ordinary girl. You +must draw her out, my dear boy."</p> + +<p>"I will," he said listlessly. "I will try to draw her out, if you +like."</p> + +<p>"We talked a great deal of you, Arnold," Clara went on. "I confided to +her some of my hopes and ambitions for you; and I am free to confess +to you that she has greatly modified all my plans and calculations."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Arnold was interested in this "But, my dear Clara, I have my +profession. I must follow my profession."</p> + +<p>"Surely—surely! Listen, Arnold, patiently. Anybody can become <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a>[55]</span> an +artist—anybody, of course, who has the genius. And all kinds of +people, gutter people, have the genius."</p> + +<p>"The sun," said Arnold, just as if he had been Lala Roy, "shines on +all alike."</p> + +<p>"Quite so; and there is an immense enthusiasm for art everywhere; but +there is no art leader. There is no one man recognized as the man most +competent to speak on art of every kind. Think of that. It is Stella's +idea entirely. This man, when he is found, will sway enormous +authority; he will become, if he has a wife able to assist him, an +immense social power."</p> + +<p>"And you want me to become that man?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Arnold. I do not see why you should not become that man. Cease +to think of becoming President of the Royal Academy, yet go on +painting; prove your genius, so as to command respect; cultivate the +art of public speaking; and look about for a wife who will be your +right hand. Think of this seriously. This is only a rough sketch, we +can fill in the details afterward. But think of it. Oh, my dear boy! +if I were only a man, and five-and-twenty, with such a chance before +me! What a glorious career is yours, if you choose! But of course you +will choose. Good gracious, Arnold! who is that?"</p> + +<p>She pointed to the canvas on the easel, where Iris's face was like the +tale of Cambuscan, half told.</p> + +<p>"It is no one you know, Clara."</p> + +<p>"One of your models?" She rose and examined it more closely through +her glasses. "The eyes are wonderful, Arnold. They are eyes I know. As +if I could ever forget them! They are the same eyes, exactly the same +eyes. I have never met with any like them before. They are the eyes of +my poor, lost, betrayed Claude Deseret. Where did you pick up this +girl, Arnold? Is she a common model?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. She is not a model. She is a young lady who teaches by +correspondence. She is my tutor—of course I have so often talked to +you about her—who taught me the science of Heraldry, and wrote me +such charming letters."</p> + +<p>"Your tutor! You said your tutor was an old gentleman."</p> + +<p>"So I thought, Clara. But I was wrong. My tutor is a young lady, and +this is her portrait, half-finished. It does not do her any kind of +justice."</p> + +<p>"A young lady!" She looked suspiciously at Arnold, whose telltale +cheek flushed. "A young lady! Indeed! And you have made her +acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"As you see, Clara; and she does me the honor to let me paint her +portrait."</p> + +<p>"What is her name, Arnold?"</p> + +<p>"She is a Miss Aglen."</p> + +<p>"Strange. The Deserets once intermarried with the Aglens. I wonder if +she is any connection. They were Warwickshire Aglens. But it is +impossible—a teacher by correspondence, a mere private governess! Who +are her people?"</p> + +<p>"She lives with her grandfather. I think her father was a tutor or +journalist of some kind, but he is dead; and her grandfather keeps a +second-hand bookshop in the King's Road close by." <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a>[56]</span></p> + +<p>"A bookshop! But you said, Arnold, that she was a young lady."</p> + +<p>"So she is, Clara," he replied simply.</p> + +<p>"Arnold!" for the first time in his life Arnold saw his cousin angry +with him. She was constantly being angry with other people, but never +before had she been angry with him. "Arnold, spare me this nonsense. +If you have been playing with this shop-girl I cannot help it, and I +beg that you will tell me no more about it, and do not, to my face, +speak of her as a lady."</p> + +<p>"I have not been playing with her, I think," said Arnold gravely; "I +have been very serious with her."</p> + +<p>"Everybody nowadays is a young lady. The girl who gives you a cup of +tea in a shop; the girl who dances in the ballet; the girl who makes +your dresses."</p> + +<p>"In that case, Clara, you need not mind my calling Miss Aglen a young +lady."</p> + +<p>"There is one word left, at least: women of my class are gentlewomen."</p> + +<p>"Miss Aglen is a gentlewoman."</p> + +<p>"Arnold, look me in the face. My dear boy, tell me, are you mad? Oh, +think of my poor unhappy Claude, what he did, and what he must have +suffered!"</p> + +<p>"I know what he did. I do not know what he suffered. My case, however, +is different from his. I am not engaged to any one."</p> + +<p>"Arnold, think of the great scheme of life I have drawn out for you. +My dear boy, would you throw that all away?"</p> + +<p>She laid her hands upon his arm and looked in his eyes with a pitiful +gaze. He took her hands in his.</p> + +<p>"My dear, every man must shape his life for himself, or must live out +the life shaped for him by his fate, not by his friends. What if I see +a life more delightful to me than that of which you dream?"</p> + +<p>"You talk of a delightful life, Arnold; I spoke of an honorable +career."</p> + +<p>"Mine will be a life of quiet work and love. Yours, Clara, would be of +noisy and troublesome work without love."</p> + +<p>"Without love, Arnold? You are infatuated."</p> + +<p>She sunk into the chair and buried her face in her hands. First, it +was her lover who had deserted her for the sake of a governess, the +daughter of some London tradesman; and now her adopted son, almost the +only creature she loved, for whom she had schemed and thought for +nearly twenty years, was ready to give up everything for the sake of +another governess, also connected with the lower forms of commercial +interests.</p> + +<p>"It is very hard, Arnold," she said. "No, don't try to persuade me. I +am getting an old woman, and it is too late for me to learn that a +gentleman can be happy unless he marries a lady. You might as well ask +me to look for happiness with a grocer."</p> + +<p>"Not quite," said Arnold.</p> + +<p>"It is exactly the same thing. Pray, have you proposed to this—this +young lady of the second-hand bookshop?"</p> + +<p>"No, I have not."</p> + +<p>"You are in love with her, however?"</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a>[57]</span> </p> + +<p>"I am, Clara."</p> + +<p>"And you intend to ask her—in the shop, I dare say, among the +second-hand books—to become your wife?"</p> + +<p>"That is my serious intention, Clara."</p> + +<p>"Claude did the same thing. His father remonstrated with him in vain, +he took his wife to London, where, for a time, he lived in misery and +self-reproach."</p> + +<p>"Do you know that he reproached himself?"</p> + +<p>"I know what must have happened when he found out his mistake. Then he +went to America, where he died, no doubt in despair, although his +father had forgiven him."</p> + +<p>"The cases are hardly parallel," said Arnold. "Still, will you permit +me to introduce Miss Aglen to you, if she should do me the honor of +accepting me? Be generous, Clara. Do not condemn the poor girl without +seeing her."</p> + +<p>"I condemn no one—I judge no one, not even you, Arnold. But I will +not receive that young woman."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Clara."</p> + +<p>"How shall you live, Arnold?" she asked coldly.</p> + +<p>It was the finishing stroke—the dismissal.</p> + +<p>"I suppose we shall not marry; but, of course, I am talking as if—"</p> + +<p>"As if she was ready to jump into your arms. Go on."</p> + +<p>"We shall not marry until I have made some kind of a beginning in my +work. Clara, let us have no further explanation. I understand +perfectly well. But, my dear Clara," he laid his arm upon her neck and +kissed her, "I shall not let you quarrel with me. I owe you too much, +and I love you too well. I am always your most faithful of servants."</p> + +<p>"No; till you are married—then—Oh, Arnold! Arnold!"</p> + +<p>A less strong-minded woman would have burst into tears. Clara did not. +She got into her carriage and drove home. She spent a miserable +evening and a sleepless night. But she did not cry.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>ON BATTERSEA TERRACE.</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p>If a woman were to choose any period of her life which she pleased, + for indefinite prolongation, she would certainly select that period + which lies between the first perception of the first symptoms—when + she begins to understand that a man has begun to love her—and the day + when he tells her so.</p> +<p>Yet women who look back to this period with so much fondness and +regret forget their little tremors and misgivings—the self-distrust, +the hopes and fears, the doubts and perplexities, which troubled this +time. For although it is acknowledged, and has been taught by all +philosophers from King Lemuel and Lao-Kiun downward, that no greater +prize can be gained by any man than the love of a good woman, which is +better than a Peerage—better than a Bonanza mine—better than Name +and Fame, Kudos and the newspaper paragraph, and is arrived at by much +less exertion, being indeed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a>[58]</span> the special gift of the gods to those +they love; yet all women perfectly understand the other side to this +great truth—namely, that no greater happiness can fall to any woman +than the love of a good man. So that, in all the multitudinous and +delightful courtships which go on around us, and in our midst, there +is, on both sides, both with man and with maid, among those who truly +reach to the right understanding of what this great thing may mean, a +continual distrust of self, with humility and anxiety. And when, as +sometimes happens, a girl has been brought up in entire ignorance of +love, so that the thought of it has never entered her head, the thing +itself, when it falls upon her, is overwhelming, and infolds her as +with a garment from head to foot, and, except to her lover, she +becomes as a sealed fountain. I know not how long this season of +expectation would have lasted for Iris, but for Arnold's conversation +with his cousin, which persuaded him to speak and bring matters to a +final issue. To this girl, living as secluded as if she was in an +Oriental harem, who had never thought of love as a thing possible for +herself, the consciousness that Arnold loved her was bewildering and +astonishing, and she waited, knowing that sooner or later something +would be said, but trembling for fear that it should be said.</p> + +<p>After all, it was Lala Roy, and not Clara, who finally determined +Arnold to wait no longer.</p> + +<p>He came every day to the studio with Iris when she sat for her +portrait. This was in the afternoon. But he now got into the habit of +coming in the morning, and would sit in silence looking on. He came +partly because he liked the young man, and partly because the +painter's art was new to him, and it amused him to watch a man giving +his whole time and intellect to the copying or faces and things on +canvas. Also, he was well aware by this time that it was not to see +Mr. Emblem or himself that Arnold spent every evening at the house, +and he was amused to watch the progress of an English courtship. In +India, we know, they manage matters differently, and so as to give the +bridegroom no more trouble than is necessary. This young man, however, +took, he observed, the most wonderful pains and the most extraordinary +trouble to please.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Lala Roy," Arnold said one morning after a silence of +three hours or so, "do you know that this is going to be the portrait +of the most beautiful woman in the world, and the best?"</p> + +<p>"It is well," said the Philosopher, "when a young man desires virtue +as well as beauty."</p> + +<p>"You have known her all her life. Don't trouble yourself to speak, +Lala. You can nod your head if there isn't a maxim ready. You began to +lodge in the house twenty years ago, and you have seen her every day +since. If she is not the best, as well as the most beautiful girl in +the world, you ought to know and can contradict me. But you do know +it."</p> + +<p>"Happy is the man," said the Sage, "who shall call her wife; happy the +children who shall call her mother."</p> + +<p>"I suppose, Lala," Arnold went on with an ingenuous blush, "I suppose +that you have perceived that—that—in fact—I love her."</p> + +<p>The Philosopher inclined his head.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a>[59]</span> </p> + +<p>"Do you think—you who know her so well—that she suspects or knows +it?"</p> + +<p>"The thoughts of a maiden are secret thoughts. As well may one search +for the beginnings of a river as inquire into the mind of a woman. +Their ways are not our ways, nor are their thoughts ours, nor have we +wit to understand, nor have they tongue to utter the things they +think. I know not whether she suspects."</p> + +<p>"Yet you have had experience, Lala Roy?"</p> + +<p>A smile stole over the Sage's features.</p> + +<p>"In the old days when I was young, I had experience, as all men have. +I have had many wives. Yet to me, as to all others, the thoughts of +the harem are unknown."</p> + +<p>"Yet, Iris—surely you know the thoughts of Iris, your pupil."</p> + +<p>"I know only that her heart is the abode of goodness, and that she +knows not any evil thought. Young man, beware. Trouble not the clear +fountain."</p> + +<p>"Heaven knows," said Arnold, "I would not—" And here he stopped.</p> + +<p>"Youth," said the Sage presently, "is the season for love. Enjoy the +present happiness. Woman is made to be loved. Receive with gratitude +what Heaven gives. The present moment is your own. Defer not until the +evening what you may accomplish at noon."</p> + +<p>With these words the oracle became silent, and Arnold sat down and +began to think it all over again.</p> + +<p>An hour later he presented himself at the house in the King's Road. +Iris was alone, and she was playing.</p> + +<p>"You, Arnold? It is early for you."</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, Iris, for breaking in on your afternoon; but I +thought—it is a fine afternoon—I thought that, perhaps—You have +never taken a walk with me."</p> + +<p>She blushed, I think in sympathy with Arnold, who looked confused and +stammered, and then she said she would go with him.</p> + +<p>They left the King's Road by the Royal Avenue, where the leaves were +already thin and yellow, and passed through the Hospital and its broad +grounds down to the river-side; then they turned to the right, and +walked along the embankment, where are the great new red houses, to +Cheyne Walk, and so across the Suspension Bridge. Arnold did not speak +one word the whole way. His heart was so full that he could not trust +himself to speak. Who would not be four-and-twenty again, even with +all the risks and dangers of life before one, the set traps, the +gaping holes, and the treacherous quicksands, if it were only to feel +once more the overwhelming spirit of the mysterious goddess of the +golden cestus? In silence they walked side by side over the bridge. +Half-way across, they stopped and looked up the river. The tide was +running in with a swift current, and the broad river was nearly at the +full; the strong September sun fell upon the water, which was broken +into little waves under a fresh breeze meeting the current from the +north-west. There were lighters and barges majestically creeping up +stream, some with brown three-cornered sails set in the bows and +stern, some slowly moving with the tide, their bows kept steady by +long oars, and some, lashed one to the other, forming a long train, +and pulled along by a noisy little tug, all paddle wheel and engine. + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a>[60]</span> There was a sculler vigorously practicing for his next race, and +dreaming, perhaps, of sending a challenge to Hanlan; there were some +boys in a rowing-boat, laughing and splashing each other; on the north +bank there was the garden of the Embankment, with its young trees +still green, for the summer lasted into late September this year, and, +beyond, the red brick tower of the old church, with its flag post on +the top. These details are never so carefully marked as when one is +anxious, and fully absorbed in things of great importance. Perhaps +Arnold had crossed the bridge a hundred times before, but to day, for +the first time, he noticed the common things of the river. One may be +an artist, and yet may miss the treasures that lie at the very feet. +This is a remark which occurs to one with each new Academy Show. With +every tide the boats go up and down with their brown sails, and always +the tower of Chelsea Church rises above the trees, and the broad river +never forgets to sparkle and to glow in the sunshine when it gets the +chance. Such common things are for the most part unheeded, but, when +the mind is anxious and full, they force themselves upon one. Arnold +watched boats, and river, and sunshine on the sails, with a strange +interest and wonder, as one sees visions in a dream. He had seen all +these things before, yet now he noticed them for the first time, and +all the while he was thinking what he should say to Iris, and how he +should approach the subject. I know not whether Iris, like him, saw +one thing and noticed another. The thoughts of a maiden, as Lala Roy +said, are secret thoughts. She looked upon the river from the bridge +with Arnold. When he turned, she turned with him, and neither spoke.</p> + +<p>They left the bridge, and passed through the wooden gate at the +Battersea end of it, and across the corner where the stone columns +lie, like an imitation of Tadmor in the Desert, and so to the broad +terrace overlooking the river.</p> + +<p>There is not, anywhere, a more beautiful terrace than this of +Battersea Park, especially when the tide is high. Before it lies the +splendid river, with the barges which Arnold had seen from the bridge. +They are broad, and flat, and sometimes squat, and sometimes black +with coal, and sometimes they go up and down sideways, in lubberly +Dutch fashion, but they are always picturesque; and beyond the river +is the Embankment, with its young trees, which will before many years +be tall and stately trees; and behind the trees are the new red +palaces; and above the houses, at this time of the year and day, are +the flying clouds, already colored with the light of the sinking sun. +Behind the terrace are the trees, and lawns of the best-kept park in +London.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon of a late September day, there are not many who walk +in these gardens. Arnold and Iris had the terrace almost to +themselves, save for half-a-dozen girls with children, and two or +three old men making the most of the last summer they were ever likely +to see, though it would have been cruel to tell them so.</p> + +<p>"This is your favorite walk, Iris," said Arnold at last, breaking the +silence.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I come here very often. It is my garden. Sometimes in the +winter, and when the east wind blows up the river, I have it all to +myself."</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a>[61]</span> </p> + +<p>"A quiet life, Iris," he said, "and a happy life."</p> + +<p>"Yes; a happy life."</p> + +<p>"Iris, will you change it for a life which will not be so quiet?" He +took her hand, but she made no reply. "I must tell you, Iris, because +I cannot keep it from you any longer. I love you—oh, my dear, I +cannot tell you how I love you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arnold!" she whispered. It had come, the thing she feared to +hear!</p> + +<p>"May I go on? I have told you now the most important thing, and the +rest matters little. Oh, Iris, may I go on and tell you all?"</p> + +<p>"Go on," she said; "tell me all."</p> + +<p>"As for telling you everything," He said with a little laugh, "that is +no new thing. I have told you all that is in my mind for a year and +more. It seems natural that I should tell you this too, even if it did +not concern you at all, but some other girl; though that would be +impossible. I love you, Iris; I love you—I should like to say nothing +more. But I must tell you as well that I am quite a poor man; I am an +absolute pauper; I have nothing at all—no money, no work, nothing. My +studio and all must go back to her; and yet, Iris, in spite of this, I +am so selfish as to tell you that I love you. I would give you, if I +could, the most delightful palace in the world, and I offer you a +share in the uncertain life of an artist, who does not know whether he +has any genius, or whether he is fit even to be called an artist."</p> + +<p>She gave him her hand with the frankness which was her chief charm, +and with a look in her eyes so full of trust and truth that his heart +sunk within him for very fear lest he should prove unworthy of so much +confidence.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arnold," she said, "I think that I have loved you all along, ever +since you began to write to me. And yet I never thought that love +would come to me."</p> + +<p>He led her into that bosky grove set with seats convenient for lovers, +which lies romantically close to the Italian Restaurant, where they +sell the cocoa and the ginger beer. There was no one in the place +besides themselves, and here, among the falling leaves, and in a +solitude as profound as on the top of a Dartmoor tor, Arnold told the +story of his love again, and with greater coherence, though even more +passion.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Iris again, "how could you love me, Arnold—how could you +love any girl so? It is a shame, Arnold; we are not worth so much. +Could any woman," she thought, "be worth the wealth of passion and +devotion which her lover poured out for her?"</p> + +<p>"My tutor," he went on, "if you only knew what things you have taught +me, a man of experience! If I admired you when I thought you must be a +man, and pictured an old scholar full of books and wisdom, what could +I do when I found that a young girl had written those letters? You +gave mine back to me; did you think that I would ever part with yours? +And you owned—oh, Iris, what would not the finished woman of the +world give to have the secret of your power?—you owned that you knew +all my letters, every one, by heart. And after all, you will love me, +your disciple and pupil, and a man who has his way to make from the +very beginning <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a>[62]</span> and first round of the ladder. Think, Iris, first. Is +it right to throw away so much upon a man who is worth so little?"</p> + +<p>"But I am glad that you are poor. If you were rich I should have been +afraid—oh, not of you, Arnold—never of you, but of your people. And, +besides it is so good—oh, so very good for a young man—a young man +of the best kind, not my cousin's kind—to be poor. Nobody ought ever +to be allowed to become rich before he is fifty years of age at the +very least. Because now you will have to work in earnest, and you will +become a great artist—yes, a truly great artist, and we shall be +proud of you."</p> + +<p>"You shall make of me what you please, and what you can. For your +sake, Iris, I wish I were another Raphael. You are my mistress and my +queen. Bid me to die, and I will dare—Iris, I swear that the words of +the extravagant old song are real to me."</p> + +<p>"Nay," she said, "not your queen, but your servant always. Surely love +cannot command. But, I think," she added softly, with a tender blush; +"I think—nay, I am sure and certain that it can obey."</p> + +<p>He stooped and kissed her fingers.</p> + +<p>"My love," he murmured; "my love—my love!"</p> + +<p>The shadows lengthened and the evening fell; but those two foolish +people sat side by side, and hand in hand, and what they said further +we need not write down, because to tell too much of what young lovers +whisper to each other is a kind of sacrilege.</p> + +<p>At last Arnold became aware that the sun was actually set, and he +sprung to his feet.</p> + +<p>They walked home again across the Suspension Bridge. In the western +sky was hanging a huge bank of cloud all bathed in purple, red and +gold; the river was ablaze; the barges floated in a golden haze; the +light shone on their faces, and made them all glorious, like the face +of Moses, for they, too, had stood—nay, they were still standing—at +the very gates of Heaven.</p> + +<p>"See, Iris," said the happy lover, "the day is done; your old life is +finished; it has been a happy time, and it sets in glory and splendor. +The red light in the west is a happy omen of the day to come."</p> + +<p>So he took her hand, and led her over the river, and then to his own +studio in Tite Street. There, in the solemn twilight, he held her in +his arms, and renewed the vows of love with kisses and fond caresses.</p> + +<p>"Iris, my dear—my dear—you are mine and I am yours. What have I done +to deserve this happy fate?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>THE DISCOVERY.</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p>At nine o'clock that evening, Mr. Emblem looked up from the chess + board.</p> +<p>"Where is Mr. Arbuthnot this evening, my dear?" he asked.</p> + +<p>It would be significant in some houses when a young man is expected +every evening. Iris blushed, and said that perhaps he was not coming. +But he was, and his step was on the stair as she spoke.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a>[63]</span> </p> + +<p>"You are late, Mr. Arbuthnot," said Mr. Emblem, reproachfully, "you +are late, sir, and somehow we get no music now until you come. Play us +something, Iris. It is my move, Lala—"</p> + +<p>Iris opened the piano and Arnold sat down beside her, and their eyes +met. There was in each the consciousness of what had passed.</p> + +<p>"I shall speak to him to-night, Iris," Arnold whispered. "I have +already written to my cousin. Do not be hurt if she does not call upon +you."</p> + +<p>"Nothing of that sort will hurt me," Iris said, being ignorant of +social ways, and without the least ambition to rise in the world. "If +your cousin does not call upon me I shall not be disappointed. Why +should she want to know me? But I am sorry, Arnold, that she is angry +with you."</p> + +<p>Lala Roy just then found himself in presence of a most beautiful +problem—white to move and checkmate in three moves. Mr. Emblem found +the meshes of fate closing round him earlier than usual, and both bent +their heads closely over the table.</p> + +<p>"Checkmate!" said Lala Roy. "My friend, you have played badly this +evening."</p> + +<p>"I have played badly," Mr. Emblem replied, "because to-morrow will be +an important day for Iris, and for myself. A day, Iris, that I have +been looking forward to for eighteen years, ever since I got your +father's last letter, written upon his death-bed. It seems a long +time, but like a lifetime," said the old man of seventy-five, "it is +as nothing when it is gone. Eighteen years, and you were a little +thing of three, child!"</p> + +<p>"What is going to happen to me, grandfather, except that I shall be +twenty-one?"</p> + +<p>"We shall see to-morrow. Patience, my dear—patience."</p> + +<p>He spread out his hands and laughed. What was going to happen to +himself was a small thing compared with the restoration of Iris to her +own.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Emblem," said Arnold, "I also have something of importance to +say."</p> + +<p>"You, too, Mr. Arbuthnot? Cannot yours wait also until to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"No; it is too important. It cannot wait an hour."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir"—Mr. Emblem pushed up his spectacles and leaned back in +his chair—"well, Mr. Arbuthnot, let us have it."</p> + +<p>"I think you may guess what I have to say, Mr. Emblem. I am sure that +Lala Roy has already guessed it."</p> + +<p>The philosopher inclined his head in assent.</p> + +<p>"It is that I have this afternoon asked Iris to marry me, Mr. Emblem. +And she has consented."</p> + +<p>"Have you consented, Iris, my dear?" said her grandfather.</p> + +<p>She placed her hand in Arnold's for reply.</p> + +<p>"Do you think you know him well enough, my dear?" Mr. Emblem asked +gravely, looking at her lover. "Marriage is a serious thing: it is a +partnership for life. Children, think well before you venture on the +happiness or ruin of your whole lives. And you are so young. What a +pity—what a thousand pities that people were not ordained to marry at +seventy or so!"</p> + +<p>"We have thought well," said Arnold. "Iris has faith in me."</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a>[64]</span> </p> + +<p>"Then, young man, I have nothing to say. Iris will marry to please +herself, and I pray that she may be happy. As for you, I like your +face and manners, but I do not know who you are, nor what your means +may be. Remember that I am poor—I am so poor—I can tell you all now, +that to-morrow we shall—well, patience—to-morrow I shall most likely +have my very stock seized and sold."</p> + +<p>"Your stock sold? Oh, grandfather!" cried Iris; "and you did not tell +me! And I have been so happy."</p> + +<p>"Friend," said Lala, "was it well to hide this from me?"</p> + +<p>"Foolish people," Mr. Emblem went on, "have spread reports that I am +rich, and have saved money for Iris. It is not true, Mr. Arbuthnot. I +am not rich. Iris will come to you empty-handed."</p> + +<p>"And as for me, I have nothing," said Arnold, "except a pair of hands +and all the time there is. So we have all to gain and nothing to +lose."</p> + +<p>"You have your profession," said Iris, "and I have mine. Grandfather, +do not fear, even though we shall all four become poor together."</p> + +<p>It seemed natural to include Lala Roy, who had been included with them +for twenty years.</p> + +<p>"As for Iris being empty-handed," said Arnold, "how can that ever be? +Why, she carries in her hands an inexhaustible cornucopia, full of +precious things."</p> + +<p>"My dear," said the old man, holding out his arms to her, "I could not +keep you always. Some day I knew you would leave me; it is well that +you should leave me when I am no longer able to keep a roof over your +head."</p> + +<p>"But we shall find a roof for you, grandfather, somewhere. We shall +never part."</p> + +<p>"The best of girls always," said Mr. Emblem; "the best of girls! Mr. +Arbuthnot, you are a happy man."</p> + +<p>Then the Sage lifted up his voice and said solemnly:</p> + +<p>"On her tongue dwelleth music; the sweetness of honey floweth from her +lips; humility is like a crown of glory about her head; her eye +speaketh softness and love; her husband putteth his heart in her bosom +and findeth joy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are all too good to me," murmured Iris.</p> + +<p>"A friend of mine," said Mr. Emblem, "now, like nearly all my friends, +beneath the sod, used to say that a good marriage was a happy blending +of the finest Wallsend with the most delicate Silkstone. But he was in +the coal trade. For my own part I have always thought that it is like +the binding of two scarce volumes into one."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not second-hand volumes, grandfather," said Iris.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Certainly not new ones. Not volumes under +one-and-twenty, if you please. Mr. Arbuthnot, I am glad; you will know +why very soon. I am very glad that Iris made her choice before her +twenty-first birthday. Whatever may happen now, no one can say that +either of you was influenced by any expectations. You both think +yourself paupers; well, I say nothing, because I know nothing. But, +children, if a great thing happen to you, and that before +four-and-twenty hours have passed, be prepared—be prepared, I say—to +receive it with moderate rejoicing."</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a>[65]</span> </p> + +<p>"To-morrow?" Iris asked. "Why to-morrow? Why not to-night, if you have +a secret to tell us?"</p> + +<p>"Your father enjoined in his last letter to wait till you were +twenty-one. The eve of your birthday, however, is the same thing as +your birthday. We will open the papers to-night. What I have to tell +you, Iris, shall be told in the presence of your lover, whatever it +is—good or bad."</p> + +<p>He led the way down-stairs into the back shop. Here he lit the gas, +and began to open his case, slowly and cautiously.</p> + +<p>"Eighteen years ago, Iris, my child, I received your father's last +letter, written on his death bed. This I have already told you. He set +down, in that letter, several things which surprised me very much. We +shall come to these things presently. He also laid down certain +instructions for your bringing up, my dear. I was, first of all, to +give you as good an education as I could afford; I was to keep you as +much as possible separated from companions who might not be thought +afterward fit to be the friends of a young lady. You have as good an +education as Lala Roy and I could devise between us. From him you have +learned mathematics, so as to steady your mind and make you exact; and +you have learned the science of heraldry from me, so that you may at +once step into your own place in the polite world, where, no doubt, it +is a familiar and a necessary study. You have also learned music, +because that is an accomplishment which every one should possess. What +more can any girl want for any station? My dear, I am happy to think +that a gentleman is your lover. Let him tell us, now—Lala Roy and +me—to our very faces, if he thinks we have, between us, made you a +lady."</p> + +<p>Arnold stooped and kissed her hand.</p> + +<p>"There is no more perfect lady," he said, "in all the land."</p> + +<p>"Iris's father, Mr. Arbuthnot, was a gentleman of honorable and +ancient family, and I will tell you, presently, as soon as I find it +out myself, his real name. As for his coat-of-arms, he bore Quarterly, +first and fourth, two roses and a boar's head erect; second and third, +gules and fesse between—strange, now that I have forgotten what it +was between. Everybody calls himself a gentleman nowadays; even Mr. +Chalker, who is going to sell me up, I suppose; but everybody, if you +please, is not armiger. Iris, your father was armiger. I suppose I am +a gentleman on Sundays, when I go to church with Iris, and wear a +black coat. But your father, my dear, though he married my daughter, +was a gentleman by birth. And one who knows heraldry respects a +gentleman by birth." He laid his hand now on the handle of the safe, +as if the time were nearly come for opening it, but not quite. "He +sent me, with this last letter, a small parcel for you, my dear, not +to be opened until you reached the age of twenty-one. As for the +person who had succeeded to his inheritance, she was to be left in +peaceable possession for a reason which he gave—quite a romantic +story, which I will tell you presently—until you came of age. He was +very urgent on this point. If, however, any disaster of sickness or +misfortune fell upon me, I was to act in your interests at once, +without waiting for time. Children," the old man added solemnly, "by +the blessing of Heaven—I cannot take it as anything less—I have been +spared in health and fortune until this day. Now let me depart in +peace, for my trust is expired, and my <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a>[66]</span> child is safe, her inheritance +secured, with a younger and better protector." He placed the key in +the door of the safe. "I do not know, mind," he said, still hesitating +to take the final step; "I do not know the nature of the inheritance; +it may be little or maybe great. The letter does not inform me on this +point. I do not even know the name of the testator, my son-in-law's +father. Nor do I know the name of my daughter's husband. I do not even +know your true name, Iris, my child. But it is not Aglen."</p> + +<p>"Then, have I been going under a false name all my life?"</p> + +<p>"It was the name your father chose to bear for reasons which seemed +good and sufficient to him, and these are part of the story which I +shall have to tell you. Will you have this story first, or shall we +first open the safe and read the contents of the parcel?"</p> + +<p>"First," said Arnold, "let us sit down and look in each other's +faces."</p> + +<p>It was a practical suggestion. But, as it proved, it was an unlucky +one, because it deprived them of the story.</p> + +<p>"Iris," he said, while they waited, "this is truly wonderful!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arnold! What am I to do with an inheritance?"</p> + +<p>"That depends on what it is. Perhaps it is a landed estate; in which +case we shall not be much better off, and can go on with our work; +perhaps there will be houses; perhaps it will be thousands of pounds, +and perhaps hundreds. Shall we build a castle in the air to suit our +inheritance?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; let us pretend. Oh, grandfather, stop one moment! Our castle, +Arnold, shall be, first of all, the most beautiful studio in the world +for you. You shall have tapestry, blue china, armor, lovely glass, +soft carpets, carved doors and painted panels, a tall mantelshelf, +old wooden cabinets, silver cups, and everything else what one ought +to like, and you shall choose everything for yourself, and never get +tired of it. But you must go on painting; you must never stop working, +because we must be proud of you as well that you like. Oh, but I have +not done yet. My grandfather is to have two rooms for himself, which +he can fill with the books he will spend his time in collecting; Lala +Roy will have two more rooms, quite separate, where he can sit by +himself whenever he does not choose to sit with me; I shall have my +own study to myself, where I shall go on reading mathematics; and we +shall all have, between us, the most beautiful dining-room and +drawing-room that you ever saw; and a garden and a fountain, +and—yes—money to give to people who are not so fortunate as +ourselves. Will that do, Arnold?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you have almost forgotten yourself, dear. There must be +carriages for you, and jewels, and dainty things all your own, and a +boudoir, and nobody shall think of doing or saying anything in the +house at all, except for your pleasure; will that do, Iris?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose we shall have to give parties of some kind, and to go to +them. Perhaps one may get to like society. You will teach me +lawn-tennis, Arnold; and I should like, I think, to learn dancing. I +suppose I must leave off making my own dresses, though I know that I +shall never be so well dressed if I do. And about the cakes and +puddings—but, oh, there is enough pretending."</p> + +<p>"It is difficult," said Lala Roy, "to bear adversity. But to be +temperate in prosperity is the height of wisdom."</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a>[67]</span> </p> + +<p>"And now suppose, Iris," said Arnold "that the inheritance, instead +of being thousands a year, is only a few hundreds."</p> + +<p>"Ah, then, Arnold, it will be ever so much simpler. We shall have +something to live upon until you begin to make money for us all."</p> + +<p>"Yes; that is very simple. But suppose, again, that the inheritance is +nothing but a small sum of money."</p> + +<p>"Why, then," said Iris, "we will give it all to grandfather, who will +pay off his creditor, and we will go on as if nothing had happened."</p> + +<p>"Child!" said Mr. Emblem, "do you think that I would take your little +all?"</p> + +<p>"And suppose, again," Arnold went on, "that the inheritance turns out +a delusion, and that there is nothing at all?"</p> + +<p>"That cannot be supposed," said Mr. Emblem quickly; "that is absurd!"</p> + +<p>"If it were," said Iris, "we shall only be, to-morrow, just exactly +what we are to-day. I am a teacher by correspondence, with five pupils. +Arnold is looking for art-work, which will pay; and between us, my +dear grandfather and Lala Roy, we are going to see that you want +nothing."</p> + +<p>Always Lala Roy with her grandfather, as if their interests were +identical, and, indeed, he had lived so long with them that Iris could +not separate the two old men.</p> + +<p>"We will all live together," Iris continued, "and when our fortune is +made we will all live in a palace. And now, grandfather, that we have +relieved our feelings, shall we have the story and the opening of the +papers in the safe?"</p> + +<p>"Which will you have first?" Mr. Emblem asked again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the safe," said Arnold. "The story can wait. Let us examine the +contents of the safe."</p> + +<p>"The story," said Mr. Emblem, "is nearly all told in your father's +letter, my dear. But there is a little that I would tell you first, +before I read that letter. You know, Iris, that I have never been +rich; my shop has kept me up till now, but I have never been able to +put by money. Well—my daughter Alice, your poor mother, my dear, who +was as good and clever as you are, was determined to earn her own +living, and so she went out as a governess. And one day she came home +with her husband; she had been married the day before, and she told me +they had very little money, and her husband was a scholar and a +gentleman, and wanted to get work by writing. He got some, but not +enough, and they were always in a poor way, until one day he got a +letter from America—it was while the Civil War was raging—from an +old Oxford friend, inviting him to emigrate and try fortune as a +journalist out there. He went, and his wife was to join him. But she +died, my dear; your mother died, and a year later I had your father's +last letter, which I am now going to read to you."</p> + +<p>"One moment, sir," said Arnold. "Before you open the safe and take out +the papers, remember that Iris and I can take nothing—nothing at all +for ourselves until all your troubles are tided over."</p> + +<p>"Children—children," cried Mr. Emblem.</p> + +<p>"Go, my son, to the Desert," observed the Sage, standing solemnly + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a>[68]</span> upright like a Prophet of Israel. "Observe the young stork of the +wilderness, how he beareth on his wings his aged sire and supplieth +him with food. The piety of a child is sweeter than the incense of +Persia offered to the sun; yea, more delicious is it than the odors +from a field of Arabian spice."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Lala," said Mr. Emblem. "And now, children, we will +discover the mystery."</p> + +<p>He unlocked the safe and threw it open with somewhat of a theatrical +air. "The roll of papers." He took it out. "'For Iris to be opened on +her twenty-first birthday.' And this is the eve of it. But where is +the letter? I tied the letter round it, with a piece of tape. Very +strange. I am sure I tied the letter with a piece of tape. Perhaps it +was—Where is the letter?"</p> + +<p>He peered about in the safe; there was nothing else in it except a few +old account books; but he could not find the letter! Where could it +be?</p> + +<p>"I remember," he said—"most distinctly I remember tying up the +letter with the parcel. Where can it be gone to?"</p> + +<p>A feeling of trouble to come seized him. He was perfectly sure he had +tied up the letter with the parcel, and here was the parcel without +the letter, and no one had opened the safe except himself.</p> + +<p>"Never mind about the letter, grandfather," said Iris; "we shall find +that afterward."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, let us open the parcel."</p> + +<p>It was a packet about the size of a crown-octavo volume, in brown +paper, carefully fastened up with gum, and on the face of it was a +white label inscribed: "For Iris, to be opened on her twenty-first +birthday." Everybody in turn took it, weighed it, so to speak, looked +at it curiously, and read the legend. Then they returned it to Mr. +Emblem, who laid it before him and produced a penknife. With this, as +carefully and solemnly as if he were offering up a sacrifice or +performing a religious function, he cut the parcel straight through.</p> + +<p>"After eighteen years," he said; "after eighteen years. The ink will +be faded and the papers yellow. But we shall see the certificates of +the marriage and of your baptism, Iris; there will also be letters to +different people, and a true account of the rupture with his father, +and the cause, of which his letter spoke. And of course we shall find +out what was his real name and what is the kind of inheritance which +has been waiting for you so long, my dear. Now then."</p> + +<p>The covering incase of the packet was a kind of stiff cardboard or +millboard, within brown paper. Mr. Emblem laid it open. It was full of +folded papers. He took up the first and opened it. The paper was +blank. The next, it was blank; the third, it was blank; the fourth, +and fifth, and sixth, and so on throughout. The case, which had been +waiting so long, waiting for eighteen years, to be opened on Iris's +twenty-first birthday, was full of blank papers. They were all half +sheets of note-paper.</p> + +<p>Mr. Emblem looked surprised at the first two or three papers; then he +turned pale; then he rushed at the rest. When he had opened all, he +stared about him with bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"Where is the letter?" he asked again. Then he began with <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a>[69]</span> trembling +hands to tear out the contents of the safe and spread them upon the +table. The letter was nowhere.</p> + +<p>"I am certain," he said, for the tenth time, "I am quite certain that +I tied up the letter with red tape, outside the packet. And no one has +been at the safe except me."</p> + +<p>"Tell us," said Arnold, "the contents of the letter as well as you +remember them. Your son-in-law was known to you under the name of +Aglen, which was not his real name. Did he tell you his real name?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"What did he tell you? Do you remember the letter?"</p> + +<p>"I remember every word of the letter."</p> + +<p>"If you dictate it, I will write it down. That may be a help."</p> + +<p>Mr. Emblem began quickly, and as if he was afraid of forgetting:</p> + +<p>"'When you read these lines, I shall be in the Silent Land, whither +Alice, my wife, has gone before me.'"</p> + +<p>Then Mr. Emblem began to stammer.</p> + +<p>"'In one small thing we deceived you, Alice and I. My name is not +Aglen'—is not Aglen—"</p> + +<p>And here a strange thing happened. His memory failed him at this +point.</p> + +<p>"Take time," said Arnold; "there is no hurry."</p> + +<p>Mr. Emblem shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I shall remember the rest to-morrow, perhaps," he said.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything else you have to help us?" asked Arnold: "never +mind the letter, Mr. Emblem. No doubt that will come back presently. +You see we want to find out, first, who Iris's father really was, and +what is her real name. There was his coat-of-arms. That will connect +her with some family, though it may be a family with many branches."</p> + +<p>"Yes—oh yes! his coat-of-arms. I have seen his signet-ring a dozen +times. Yes, his coat; yes, first and fourth, two roses and a boar's +head erect; second and third—I forget."</p> + +<p>"Humph! Was there any one who knew him before he was married?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," Mr. Emblem sat up eagerly. "Yes, there is—there is; he is +my oldest customer. But I forget his name, I have forgotten +everything. Perhaps I shall get back my memory to-morrow. But I am +old. Perhaps it will never get back."</p> + +<p>He leaned his head upon his hands, and stared about him with +bewildered eyes.</p> + +<p>"I do not know, young man," he said presently, addressing Arnold, "who +you are. If you come from Mr. Chalker, let me tell you it is a day too +soon. To-morrow we will speak of business." Then he sprung to his feet +suddenly, struck with a thought which pierced him like a dagger. +"To-morrow! It is the day when they will come to sell me up. Oh, Iris! +what did that matter when you were safe? Now we are all paupers +together—all paupers."</p> + +<p>He fell back in his chair white and trembling. Iris soothed him; +kissed his cheek and pressed his hand; but the terror and despair of +bankruptcy were upon him. This is an awful specter, which is ever +ready to appear before the man who has embarked his all in one +venture. A disastrous season, two or three unlucky ventures, a +succession <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a>[70]</span> of bad debts, and the grisly specter stands before them. +He had no terror for the old man so long as he thought that Iris was +safe. But now—</p> + +<p>"Idle talk, Iris—idle talk, child," he said, when they tried to +comfort him. "How can a girl make money by teaching? Idle talk, young +man. How can money be made by painting? It's as bad a trade as +writing. How can money be made anyhow but in an honest shop? And +to-morrow I shall have no shop, and we shall all go into the street +together!"</p> + +<p>Presently, when lamentations had yielded to despair, they persuaded +him to go to bed. It was past midnight. Iris went upstairs with him, +while Lala Roy and Arnold waited down below. And then Arnold made a +great discovery. He began to examine the folded papers which were in +the packet. I think he had some kind of vague idea that they might +contain secret and invisible writing. They were all sheets of +note-paper, of the same size, folded in the same way—namely, doubled +as if for a square envelope. On holding one to the light, he read the +water-mark:</p> +<p class="blockquot">HIEROGLYPHICA<br /> + A Vegetable Vellum.<br /> +M.S. & Co.</p> +<p>They all had the same water-mark. He showed the thing to the Hindoo, + who did not understand what it meant.</p> +<p>Then Iris came down again. Her grandfather was sleeping. Like a child, +he fell asleep the moment his head fell upon the pillow.</p> + +<p>"Iris," he said, "this is no delusion of your grandfather's. The +parcel has been robbed."</p> + +<p>"How do you know, Arnold?"</p> + +<p>"The stupid fellow who stole and opened the packet no doubt thought he +was wonderfully clever to fill it up again with paper. But he forgot +that the packet has been lying for eighteen years in the safe, and +that this note-paper was made the day before yesterday."</p> + +<p>"How do you know that?"</p> + +<p>"You can tell by the look and feel of the paper; they did not make +paper like this twenty years ago; besides, look at the water-mark;" he +held it to the light, and Iris read the mystic words. "That is the +fashion of to-day. One house issues a new kind of paper, with a fancy +name, and another imitates them. To-morrow, I will ascertain exactly +when this paper was made."</p> + +<p>"But who would steal it, Arnold? Who could steal it?"</p> + +<p>"It would not probably be of the least use to any one. But it might be +stolen in order to sell it back. We may see an advertisement carefully +worded, guarded, or perhaps—Iris, who had access to the place, when +your grandfather was out?"</p> + +<p>"No one but James, the shopman. He has been here five-and-twenty +years. He would not, surely, rob his old master. No one else comes +here except the customers and Cousin Joe."</p> + +<p>"Joe is not, I believe, quite—"</p> + +<p>"Joe is a very bad man. He has done dreadful things. But then, even if +Joe were bad enough to rob the safe, how could he <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a>[71]</span> get at it? My +grandfather never leaves it unlocked. Oh, Arnold, Arnold, that all +this trouble should fall upon us on the very day—"</p> + +<p>"My dear, is it not better that it should fall upon you when I am +here, one more added to your advisers? If you have lost a fortune, I +have found one. Think that you have given it to me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the fortune may go," she said. "The future is ours, and we are +young. But who shall console my grandfather in his old age for his +bankruptcy?"</p> + +<p>"As the stream," said Lala Roy, "which passeth from the mountains to +the ocean, kisseth every meadow on its way, yet tarries not in any +place, so Fortune visits the sons of men; she is unstable as the wind; +who shall hold her? Let not adversity tear off the wings of hope."</p> + +<p>They could do nothing more. Arnold replaced the paper in the packet, +and gave it to Iris; they put back the ledgers and account-books in +the safe, and locked it up, and then they went upstairs.</p> + +<p>"You shall go to bed, Iris," said Arnold, "and you, too, Lala Roy. I +shall stay here, in case Mr. Emblem should—should want anything."</p> + +<p>He was, in reality, afraid that "something would happen" to the old +man. His sudden loss of memory, his loss of self-control when he spoke +of his bankruptcy, the confusion of his words, told clearly of a mind +unhinged. He could not go away and leave Iris with no better +protection than one other weak old man.</p> + +<p>He remained, but Iris sat with him, and in the silent watches of the +night they talked about the future.</p> + +<p>Under every roof are those who talk about the future, and those who +think about the past; so the shadow of death is always with us and the +sunshine of life. Not without reason is the Roman Catholic altar +incomplete without a bone of some dead man. As for the thing which had +been stolen, that affected them but little. What does it matter—the +loss of what was promised but five minutes since?</p> + +<p>It was one o'clock in the morning when Lala Roy left them. They sat at +the window, hand-in-hand, and talked. The street below them was very +quiet; now and then a late cab broke the silence, or the tramp of a +policeman; but there were no other sounds. They sat in darkness +because they wanted no light. The hours sped too swiftly for them. At +five the day began to dawn.</p> + +<p>"Iris," said Arnold, "leave me now, and try to sleep a little. Shall +we ever forget this night of sweet and tender talk?"</p> + +<p>When she was gone, he began to be aware of footsteps overhead in the +old man's room. What was he going to do? Arnold waited at the door. +Presently the door opened, and he heard careful steps upon the stairs. +They were the steps of Mr. Emblem himself. He was fully dressed, with +his usual care and neatness, his black silk stock buckled behind, and +his white hair brushed.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Mr. Arbuthnot," he said cheerfully, "you are early this morning!" +as if it was quite a usual thing for his friends to look in at six in +the morning.</p> + +<p>"You are going down to the shop, Mr. Emblem?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly—to the shop. Pray come with me."</p> + +<p>Arnold followed him.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a>[72]</span> </p> + +<p>"I have just remembered," said the old man, "that last night we did +not look on the floor. I will have one more search for the letter, and +then, if I cannot find it, I will write it all out—every word. There +is not much, to be sure, but the story is told without the names."</p> + +<p>"Tell me the story, Mr. Emblem, while you remember it."</p> + +<p>"All in good time, young man. Youth is impatient."</p> + +<p>He drew up the blind and let in the morning light; then he began his +search for the letter on the floor, going on his hands and knees, and +peering under the table and chairs with a candle. At length he +desisted.</p> + +<p>"I tied it up," he said, "with the parcel, with red tape. Very +well—we must do without it. Now, Mr. Arbuthnot, my plan is this. +First, I will dictate the letter. This will give you the outlines of +the story. Next, I will send you to—to my old customer, who can tell +you my son-in-law's real name. And then I will describe his +coat-of-arms. My memory was never so clear and good as I feel it +to-day. Strange that last night I seemed, for the moment, to forget +everything! Ha, ha! Ridiculous, wasn't it? I suppose—But there is no +accounting for these queer things. Perhaps I was disappointed to find +nothing in the packet. Do you think, Mr. Arbuthnot, that I—" Here he +began to tremble. "Do you think that I dreamed it all? Old men think +strange things. Perhaps—"</p> + +<p>"Let us try to remember the letter, Mr. Emblem."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes—certainly—the letter. Why it went—ahem!—as follows—"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Arnold laid down the pen in despair. The poor old man was mad. He had +poured out the wildest farrago without sense, coherence, or story.</p> + +<p>"So much for the letter, Mr. Arbuthnot." He was mad without doubt, yet +he knew Arnold, and knew, too, why he was in the house. "Ah, I knew it +would come back to me. Strange if it did not. Why I read that letter +once every quarter or so for eighteen years. It is a part of myself. I +could not forget it."</p> + +<p>"And the name of your son-in-law's old friend?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, the name!"</p> + +<p>He gave some name, which might have been the lost name, but as Mr. +Emblem changed it the next moment, and forgot it again the moment +after, it was doubtful; certainly not much to build upon.</p> + +<p>"And the coat-of-arms?"</p> + +<p>"We are getting on famously, are we not? The coat, sir, was as +follows."</p> + +<p>He proceeded to describe an impossible coat—a coat which might have +been drawn by a man absolutely ignorant of science.</p> + +<p>All this took a couple of hours. It was now eight o'clock.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Mr. Emblem," said Arnold. "I have no doubt now that we +shall somehow bring Iris to her own again, in spite of your loss. +Shall we go upstairs and have some breakfast?"</p> + +<p>"It is all right, Iris," cried the old man gleefully. "It is all + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a>[73]</span> right. I have remembered everything, and Mr. Arbuthnot will go out +presently and secure your inheritance."</p> + +<p>Iris looked at Arnold.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear," she said. "You shall have your breakfast. And then you +shall tell me all about it when Arnold goes; and you will take a +holiday, won't you—because I am twenty-one to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Aha!" He was quite cheerful and mirthful, because he had recovered +his memory. "Aha, my dear, all is well! You are twenty-one, and I am +seventy-five; and Mr. Arbuthnot will go and bring home the—the +inheritance. And I shall sit here all day long. It was a good dream +that came to me this morning, was it not? Quite a voice from Heaven, +which said: 'Get up and write down the letter while you remember it.' +I got up; I found by the—by the merest accident, Mr. Arbuthnot on the +stairs, and we have arranged everything for you—everything."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>DR. WASHINGTON.</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p>Arnold returned to his studio, sat down and fell fast asleep.</p> +<p>He was awakened about noon by his Cousin Clara.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arnold," she cried, shaking him wrathfully by the arm, "this is a +moment of the greatest excitement and importance to me, and you are my +only adviser, and you are asleep!"</p> + +<p>He sprung to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I am awake now, Clara. Anxiety and trouble? On account of our talk +yesterday?"</p> + +<p>He saw that she had been crying. In her hands she had a packet of +letters.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no; it is far more important than that. As for our talk—"</p> + +<p>"I am engaged to her, Clara."</p> + +<p>"So I expected," she replied coldly. "But I am not come here about +your engagement. And you do not want my congratulations, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to have your good wishes, Clara."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arnold, that is what my poor Claude said when he deserted me and +married the governess. You men want to have your own way, and then +expect us to be delighted with it."</p> + +<p>"I expect nothing, Clara. Pray understand that."</p> + +<p>"I told Claude, when he wrote asking forgiveness, that he had my good +wishes, whatever he chose to do, but that I would not on any account +receive his wife. Very well, Arnold; that is exactly what I say to +you."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Clara. I quite understand. As for the studio, and all the +things that you have given me, they are, of course, yours again. Let +me restore what I can to you."</p> + +<p>"No, Arnold, they are yours. Let me hear no more about things that are +your own. Of course, your business, as you call it, is exciting. But +as for this other thing, it is far more important. Something has +happened; something I always expected; something that <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a>[74]</span> I looked +forward to for years; although it has waited on the way so long, it +has actually come at last, when I had almost forgotten to look for it. +So true it is, Arnold, that good fortune and misfortune alike come +when we least expect them."</p> + +<p>Arnold sat down. He knew his cousin too well to interrupt her. She had +her own way of telling a story, and it was a roundabout way.</p> + +<p>"I cannot complain, after twenty years, can I? I have had plenty of +rope, as you would say. But still it has come at last. And naturally, +when it does come, it is a shock."</p> + +<p>"Is it hereditary gout, Clara?"</p> + +<p>"Gout! Nonsense, Arnold! When the will was read, I said to myself, +'Claude is certain to come back and claim his own. It is his right, +and I hope he will come. But for my own part, I have not the least +intention of calling upon the governess.' Then three or four years +passed away, and I heard—I do not remember how—that he was dead. And +then I waited for his heirs, his children, or their guardians. But +they did not come."</p> + +<p>"And now they have really come? Oh, Clara, this is indeed a +misfortune."</p> + +<p>"No, Arnold; call it a restitution, not a misfortune. I have been +living all these years on the money which belongs to Claude's heirs."</p> + +<p>"There was a son, then. And now he has dropped upon us from the +clouds?"</p> + +<p>"It is a daughter, not a son. But you shall hear. I received a letter +this morning from a person called Dr. Joseph Washington, stating that +he wrote to me on account of the only child and heiress of the late +Claude Deseret."</p> + +<p>"Who is Dr. Joseph Washington?"</p> + +<p>"He is a physician, he says, and an American."</p> + +<p>"Yes; will you go on?"</p> + +<p>"I do not mind it, Arnold; I really do not. I must give up my house +and put down my carriage, but it is for Claude's daughter. I rejoice +to think that he has left some one behind him. Arnold, that face upon +your canvas really has got eyes wonderfully like his, if it was not a +mere fancy, when I saw it yesterday. I am glad, I say, to give up +everything to the child of Claude."</p> + +<p>"You think so kindly of him, Clara, who inflicted so much pain on +you."</p> + +<p>"I can never think bitterly of Claude. We were brought up together; we +were like brother and sister; he never loved me in any other way. Oh, +I understood it all years ago. To begin with, I was never beautiful; +and it was his father's mistake. Well: this American followed up his +letter by a visit. In the letter he merely said he had come to London +with the heiress. But he called an hour ago, and brought me—oh, +Arnold, he brought me one more letter from Claude. It has been waiting +for me for eighteen years. After all that time, after eighteen years, +my poor dead Claude speaks to me again. My dear, when I thought he was +miserable on account of his marriage, I was wrong. His wife made him +happy, and he died because she died." The tears came into her eyes +again. "Poor boy! Poor Claude! The letter speaks of his child. It +says—" <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a>[75]</span> She opened and read the letter. "He says: 'Some day my child +will, I hope, come to you, and say: Cousin Clara, I am Iris +Deseret.'"</p> + +<p>"Iris?" said Arnold.</p> + +<p>"It is her name, Arnold. It was the child's grandmother's name."</p> + +<p>"A strange coincidence," he said. "Pray go on."</p> + +<p>"'She will say: Cousin Clara, I am Iris Deseret. Then you will be +kind to her, as you would to me, if I were to come home again.' I +cannot read any more, my dear, even to you."</p> + +<p>"Did this American give you any other proof of what he asserts?"</p> + +<p>"He gave me a portrait of Claude, taken years ago, when he was a boy +of sixteen, and showed me the certificate of marriage, and the child's +certificate of baptism, and letters from his wife. I suppose nothing +more can be wanted."</p> + +<p>"I dare say it is all right, Clara. But why was not the child brought +over before?"</p> + +<p>"Because—this is the really romantic part of the story—when her +father died, leaving the child, she was adopted by these charitable +Americans, and no one ever thought of examining the papers, which were +lying in a desk, until the other day."</p> + +<p>"You have not seen the young lady."</p> + +<p>"No; he is to bring her to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"And what sort of a man is this American? Is he a gentleman?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I do not quite know. Perhaps Americans are different from +Englishmen. If he was an Englishman, I should say without any +hesitation that he is not a gentleman, as we count good breeding and +good manners. He is a big man, handsome and burly, and he seems +good-tempered. When I told him what was the full amount of Iris's +inheritance—"</p> + +<p>"Iris's inheritance!" Arnold repeated. "I beg your pardon, Clara; pray +go on; but it seems like a dream."</p> + +<p>"He only laughed, and said he was glad she would have so much. The +utmost they hoped, he said, was that it might be a farm, or a house or +two, or a few hundreds in the stocks. He is to bring her to-morrow, +and of course I shall make her stay with me. As for himself, he says +that he is only anxious to get back home to his wife and his +practice."</p> + +<p>"He wants nothing for himself, then? That seems a good sign."</p> + +<p>"I asked him that question, and he said that he could not possibly +take money for what he and his family had done for Iris; that is to +say, her education and maintenance. This was very generous of him. +Perhaps he is really a gentleman by birth, but has provincial manners. +He said, however, that he had no objection to receiving the small +amount of money spent on the voyage and on Iris's outfit, because they +were not rich people, and it was a serious thing to fit out a young +lady suitably. So of course I gave him what he suggested, a check for +two hundred pounds. No one, he added with true feeling, would grudge a +single dollar that had been spent upon the education of the dear girl; +and this went to my heart."</p> + +<p>"She is well educated, then?"</p> + +<p>"She sings well," he says, "and has had a good plain education. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a>[76]</span> He +said I might rest assured that she was ladylike, because she had been +brought up among his own friends."</p> + +<p>"That is a very safe guarantee," said Arnold, laughing. "I wonder if +she is pretty?"</p> + +<p>"I asked him that question too, and he replied very oddly that she had +a most splendid figure, which fetched everybody. Is not that rather a +vulgar expression?"</p> + +<p>"It is, in England. Perhaps in America it belongs to the first +circles, and is a survival of the Pilgrim Fathers. So you gave him a +check for two hundred pounds?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; surely I was not wrong, Arnold. Consider the circumstances, the +outfit and the voyage, and the man's reluctance and delicacy of +feeling."</p> + +<p>"I dare say you were quite right, but—well, I think I should have +seen the young lady first. Remember, you have given the money to a +stranger, on his bare word."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Arnold, this man is perfectly honest. I would answer for his +truth and honesty. He has frank, honest eyes. Besides, he brought me +all those letters. Well, dear, you are not going to desert me because +you are engaged, are you, Arnold? I want you to be present when she +comes to-morrow morning."</p> + +<p>"Certainly I will be present, with the greatest—no, not the greatest +pleasure. But I will be present—I will come to luncheon, Clara."</p> + +<p>When she was gone he thought again of the strange coincidence, both of +the man and of the inheritance. Yet what had his Iris in common with a +girl who had been brought up in America? Besides, she had lost her +inheritance, and this other Iris had crossed the ocean to receive +hers. Yet a very strange coincidence. It was so strange that he told +it to Iris and to Lala Roy. Iris laughed, and said she did not know +she had a single namesake. Lala did not laugh; but he sat thinking in +silence. There was no chess for him that night; instead of playing his +usual game, Mr. Emblem, in his chair, laughed and chuckled in rather a +ghastly way.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>"IT IS MY COUSIN."</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p>"Well, Joe," said his wife, "and how is it going to finish? It looks + to me as if there was a prison-van and a police-court at the end. + Don't you think we had better back out of it while there is time?"</p> +<p>"You're a fool!" her husband replied—it was the morning after his +visit to Clara; "you know nothing about it. Now listen."</p> + +<p>"I do nothing but listen; you've told me the story till I know it by +heart. Do you think anybody in the world will be so green as to +believe such a clumsy plan as that?"</p> + +<p>"Now look here, Lotty; if there's another word said—mind, now—you +shall have nothing more to do with the business at all. I'll give it +to a girl I know—a clever girl, who will carry it through with flying +colors."</p> + +<p>She set her lips hard, and drummed her fingers on the table. He knew +how to rule his wife.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a>[77]</span> </p> + +<p>"Go on," she said, "since we can't be honest."</p> + +<p>"Be reasonable, then; that's all I ask you. Honest! who is honest? +Ain't we every one engaged in getting round our neighbors? Isn't the +whole game, all the world over, lying and deceit? Honest! you might as +well go on the boards without faking up your face, as try to live +honest. Hold your tongue, then." He growled and swore, and after his +fashion called on the Heavens to witness and express their +astonishment.</p> + +<p>The girl bent her head, and made no reply for a space. She was cowed +and afraid. Presently she looked up and laughed, but with a forced +laugh.</p> + +<p>"Don't be cross, Joe; I'll do whatever you want me to do, and +cheerfully, too, if it will do you any good. What is a woman good for +but to help her husband? Only don't be cross, Joe."</p> + +<p>She knew what her husband was by this time—a false and unscrupulous +man. Yet she loved him. The case is not rare by any means, so that +there is hope for all of us, from the meanest and most wriggling worm +among us to the most hectoring ruffian.</p> + +<p>"Why there, Lotty," he said, "that is what I like. Now listen. The old +lady is a cake—do you understand? She is a sponge, she swallows +everything, and is ready to fall on your neck and cry over you for +joy. As for doubt or suspicion, not a word. I don't think there will +be a single question asked. No, it's all 'My poor dear Claude'—that's +your father, Lotty—and 'My poor dear Iris'—that's you, Lotty."</p> + +<p>"All right, Joe, go on. I am Iris—I am anybody you like. Go on."</p> + +<p>"The more I think about it, the more I'm certain we shall do the +trick. Only keep cool over the job and forget the music-hall. You are +Iris Deseret, and you are the daughter of Claude Deseret, deceased. I +am Dr. Washington, one of the American family who brought you up. +You're grateful, mind. Nothing can be more lively than your gratitude. +We've been brother and sister, you and me, and I've got a wife and +young family and a rising practice at home in the State of Maine, and +I am only come over here to see you into your rights at great personal +expense. Paid a substitute. Yes, actually paid a substitute. We only +found the papers the other day, which is the reason why we did not +come over before, and I am going home again directly."</p> + +<p>"You are not really going away, Joe, are you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I am going to stay here; but I shall pretend to go away. Now +remember, we've got no suspicion ourselves, and we don't expect to +meet any. If there is any, we are surprised and sorry. We don't come +to the lady with a lawyer or a blunderbuss; we come as friends, and we +shall arrange this little business between ourselves. Oh, never you +fear, we shall arrange it quite comfortably, without lawyers."</p> + +<p>"How much do you think we shall get out of it, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"Listen, and open your eyes. There's nearly a hundred and twenty +thousand pounds and a small estate in the country. Don't let us +trouble about the estate more than we can help. Estates mean lawyers. +Money doesn't."</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a>[78]</span> </p> + +<p>He spoke as if small sums like a hundred thousand pounds are carried +about in the pocket.</p> + +<p>"Good gracious! And you've got two hundred of it already, haven't +you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but what is two hundred out of a hundred and twenty thousand? A +hundred and twenty thousand! There's spending in it, isn't there, +Lotty? Gad, we'll make the money spin, I calculate! It may be a few +weeks before the old lady transfers the money—I don't quite know +where it is, but in stocks or something—to your name. As soon as it +is in your name I've got a plan. We'll remember that you've got a +sweetheart or something in America, and you'll break your heart for +wanting to see him. And then nothing will do but you must run across +for a trip. Oh, I'll manage, and we'll make the money fly."</p> + +<p>He was always adding new details to his story, finding something to +embellish it and heighten the effect, and now having succeeded in +getting the false Iris into the house, he began already to devise +schemes to get her out again.</p> + +<p>"A hundred thousand pounds? Why, Joe, it is a terrible great sum of +money. Good gracious! What shall we do with it, when we get it?"</p> + +<p>"I'll show you what to do with it, my girl."</p> + +<p>"And you said, Joe—you declared that it is your own by rights."</p> + +<p>"Certainly it is my own. It would have been bequeathed to me by my own +cousin. But she didn't know it. And she died without knowing it, and I +am her heir."</p> + +<p>Lotty wondered vaguely and rather sadly how much of this statement was +true. But she did not dare to ask. She had promised her assistance. +Every night she woke with a dreadful dream of a policeman knocking at +the door; whenever she saw a man in blue she trembled; and she knew +perfectly well that, if the plot failed, it was she herself, in all +probability, and not her husband at all, who would be put in the dock. +She did not believe a word about the cousin; she knew she was going to +do a vile and dreadful wickedness, but she was ready to go through +with it, or with anything else, to pleasure a husband who already, the +honeymoon hardly finished, showed the propensities of a rover.</p> + +<p>"Very well, Lotty; we are going there at once. You need take nothing +with you, but you won't come back here for a good spell. In fact, I +think I shall have to give up these lodgings, for fear of accidents. I +shall leave you with your cousin."</p> + +<p>"Yes; and I'm to be quiet, and behave pretty, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"You'll be just as quiet and demure as you used to be when you were +serving in the music shop. No loud laughing, no capers, no comic +songs, and no dancing."</p> + +<p>"And am I to begin at once by asking for the money to be—what do you +call it, transferred?"</p> + +<p>"No; you are not on any account to say a word about the money; you are +to go on living there without hinting at the money—without showing +any desire to discuss the subject—perhaps for months, until there +can't be the shadow of a doubt that you are the old woman's cousin. +You are to make much of her, flatter her, cocker her up, find out all +the family secrets, and get the length of her <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a>[79]</span> foot; but you are not +to say one single word about the money. As for your manners, I'm not +afraid of them, because when you like, you can look and talk like a +countess."</p> + +<p>"I know now." She got up and changed her face so that it became at +once subdued and quiet, like a quiet serving-girl behind a counter. +"So, is that modest enough, Joe? And as for singing, I shall sing for +her, but not music-hall trash. This kind of thing. Listen."</p> + +<p>There was a piano in the room, and she sat down and sang to her own +accompaniment, with a sweet, low voice, one of the soft, sad German +songs.</p> + +<p>"That'll do," cried Joe. "Hang me! what a clever girl you are, Lotty! +That's the kind of thing the swells like. As for me, give me ten +minutes of Jolly Nash. But you know how to pull 'em in, Lotty."</p> + +<p>It was approaching twelve, the hour when they were due. Lotty retired +and arrayed herself in her quietest and most sober dress, a costume in +some brown stuff, with a bonnet to match. She put on her best gloves +and boots, having herself felt the inferiority of the shop-girl to the +lady in those minor points, and she modified and mitigated her fringe, +which, she knew, was rather more exaggerated than young ladies in +society generally wear.</p> + +<p>"You're not afraid, Lotty?" said Joe, when at last she was ready to +start.</p> + +<p>"Afraid? Not I, Joe. Come along. I couldn't look quieter, not if I was +to make up as I do in the evening as a Quakeress. Come along. Oh, Joe, +it will be awful dull! Don't forget to send word to the hall that I am +ill. Afraid? Not I!" She laughed, but rather hysterically.</p> + +<p>There would be, however, she secretly considered, some excitement when +it came to the finding out, which would happen, she was convinced, in +a very few hours. In fact, she had no faith at all in the story being +accepted and believed by anybody; to be sure, she herself had been +trained, as ladies in shops generally are, to mistrust all mankind, +and she could not understand at all the kind of confidence which comes +of having the very thing presented to you which you ardently desire. +When they arrived in Chester Square, she found waiting for her a lady, +who was certainly not beautiful, but she had kind eyes, which looked +eagerly at the strange face, and with an expression of disappointment.</p> + +<p>"It can't be the fringe," thought Lotty.</p> + +<p>"Cousin Clara," she said softly and sweetly, as her husband had taught +her, "I am Iris Deseret, the daughter of your old playfellow, Claude."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, my dear," cried Clara with enthusiasm, "come to my arms! +Welcome home again!"</p> + +<p>She kissed and embraced her. Then she held her by both hands, and +looked at her face again.</p> + +<p>"My dear," she said, "you have been a long time coming. I had almost +given up hoping that Claude had any children. But you are welcome, +after all—very welcome. You are in your own house, remember, my dear. +This house is yours, and the plate, and furniture, and everything, and +I am only your tenant."</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a>[80]</span> </p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Lotty, overwhelmed. Why, she had actually been taken on her +word, or rather the word of Joe.</p> + +<p>"Let me kiss you again. Your face does not remind me as yet, in any +single feature, of your father's. But I dare say I shall find +resemblance presently. And indeed, your voice does remind me of him +already. He had a singularly sweet and delicate voice."</p> + +<p>"Iris has a remarkably sweet and delicate voice," said Joe, softly. +"No doubt she got it from her father. You will hear her sing +presently."</p> + +<p>Lotty hardly knew her husband. His face was preternaturally solemn, +and he looked as if he was engaged in the most serious business of his +life.</p> + +<p>"All her father's ways were gentle and delicate," said Clara.</p> + +<p>"Just like hers," said Joe. "When all of us—American boys and girls, +pretty rough at times—were playing and larking about, Iris would be +just sittin' out like a cat on a carpet, quiet and demure. I suppose +she got that way, too, from her father."</p> + +<p>"No doubt; and as for your face, my dear, I dare say I shall find a +likeness presently. But just now I see none. Will you take off your +bonnet?"</p> + +<p>When the girl's bonnet was off, Clara looked at her again, curiously, +but kindly.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I can't help looking for a likeness, my dear. But you must +take after your mother, whom I never saw. Your father's eyes were full +and limpid; yours are large, and clear, and bright; very good eyes, my +dear, but they are not limpid. His mouth was flexible and mobile, but +yours is firm. Your hair, however, reminds me somewhat of his, which +was much your light shade of brown when he was young. And now, +sir"—she addressed Joe—"now that you have brought this dear girl all +the way across the Atlantic, what are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't exactly know that there's anything to keep me," said +Joe. "You see, I've got my practice to look after at home—I am a +physician, as I told you—and my wife and children; and the sooner I +get back the better, now that I can leave Iris with her friends, safe +and comfortable. Stay," he added, "there are all those papers which I +promised you—the certificates, and the rest of them. You had better +take them all, miss, and keep them for Iris."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Clara, touched by this confidence; "Iris will be +safe with me. It is very natural that you should want to go home +again. And you will be content to stay with me, my dear, won't you? +You need not be afraid, sir; I assure you that her interests will not +in any way suffer. Tell her to write and let you know exactly what is +done. Let her, however, since she is an English girl, remain with +English friends, and get to know her cousins and relations. You can +safely trust her with me, Dr. Washington."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Joe. "You know that when one has known a girl all +her life, one is naturally anxious about her happiness. We are almost +brother and sister."</p> + +<p>"I know; and I am sure, Mr. Washington, we ought to be most grateful +to you. As for the money you have expended upon her, let me once more +beg of you—"</p> + +<p>Joe waved his hand majestically.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a>[81]</span> </p> + +<p>"As for that," he said, "the money is spent. Iris is welcome to it, if +it were ten times as much. Now, madam, you trusted me, the very first +day that you saw me, with two hundred pounds sterling. Only an English +lady would have done that. You trusted me without asking me who or +what I was, or doubting my word. I assure you, madam, I felt that +kindness, and that trust, very much indeed, and in return, I have +brought you Iris herself. After all expenses paid of coming over and +getting back, buying a few things for Iris, if I find that there's +anything over, I shall ask you to take back the balance. Madam, I +thank you for the money, but I am sure I have repaid you—with Iris."</p> + +<p>This was a very clever speech. If there had been a shadow of doubt +before it in Clara's heart (which there was not), it would vanish now. +She cordially and joyfully accepted her newly-found cousin.</p> + +<p>"And now, Iris," he said with a manly tremor in his voice, "I do not +know if I shall see you again before I go away. If not, I shall take +your fond love to all of them at home—Tom, and Dick, and Harry, and +Harriet, and Prissy, and all of them"—Joe really was carrying the +thing through splendidly—"and perhaps, my dear, when you are a grand +lady in England, you will give a thought—a thought now and again—to +your old friends across the water."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Joe!" cried Lotty, really carried away with admiration, and +ashamed of her skeptical spirit. "Oh," she whispered, "ain't you +splendid!"</p> + +<p>"But you must not go, Dr. Washington," said Clara, "without coming +again to say farewell. Will you not dine with us to-night? Will you +stay and have lunch?"</p> + +<p>"No, madam, I thank you. It will be best for me to leave Iris alone +with you. The sooner she learns your English ways and forgets American +ways, the better."</p> + +<p>"But you are not going to start away for Liverpool at once? You will +stay a day or two in London—"</p> + +<p>The American physician said that perhaps he might stay a week longer +for scientific purposes.</p> + +<p>"Have you got enough money, Joe?" asked the new Iris thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>Joe gave her a glance of infinite admiration.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "the fact is that I should like to buy a few books +and things. Perhaps—"</p> + +<p>"Cousin," said Lotty eagerly, "please give him a check for a hundred +pounds. Make it a hundred. You said everything was mine. No, Joe, I +won't hear a word about repayment, as if a little thing like fifty +pounds, or a hundred pounds, should want to be repaid! As if you and I +could ever talk about repayment!"</p> + +<p>Clara did as she was asked readily and eagerly. Then Joe departed, +promising to call and say farewell before he left England, and +resolving that in his next visit—his last visit—there should be +another check. But he had made one mistake; he had parted with the +papers. No one in any situation of life should ever give up the power, +until he has secured the substance. But it is human to err.</p> + +<p>"And now, my dear," said Clara warmly, "sit down and let us <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a>[82]</span> talk. +Arnold is coming to lunch with us, and to make your acquaintance."</p> + +<p>When Arnold came a few minutes later, he was astonished to find his +cousin already on the most affectionate terms with the newly-arrived +Iris Deseret. She was walking about the room showing her the pictures +of her grandfather and other ancestors, and they were hand-in-hand.</p> + +<p>"Arnold," said Clara, "this is Iris, and I hope you will both be great +friends; Iris, this is my cousin, but he is not yours."</p> + +<p>"I don't pretend to know how that may be," said the young lady. "But +then I am glad to know all your cousins, whether they are mine or not; +only don't bother me with questions, because I don't remember +anything, and I don't know anything. Why, until the other day I did +not even know that I was an English lady, not until they found those +papers."</p> + +<p>A strange accent for an American! and she certainly said "laidy" for +"lady," and "paipper" for "paper," like a cockney. Alas! This comes of +London Music Halls even to country-bred damsels!</p> + +<p>Arnold made a mental observation that the new-comer might be called +anything in the world, but could not be called a lady. She was +handsome, certainly, but how could Claude Deseret's daughter have +grown into so common a type of beauty? Where was the delicacy of +feature and manner which Clara had never ceased to commend in speaking +of her lost cousin?</p> + +<p>"Iris," said Clara, "is our little savage from the American Forest. +She is Queen Pocahontas, who has come over to conquer England and to +win all our hearts. My dear, my Cousin Arnold will help me to make you +an English girl."</p> + +<p>She spoke as in the State of Maine was still the hunting-ground of +Sioux and Iroquois.</p> + +<p>Arnold thought that a less American-looking girl he had never seen; +that she did not speak or look like a lady was to be expected, +perhaps, if she had, as was probable, been brought up by rough and +unpolished people. But he had no doubt, any more than Clara herself, +as to the identity of the girl. Nobody ever doubts a claimant. Every +impostor, from Demetrius downward, has gained his supporters and +partisans by simply living among them and keeping up the imposition. +It is so easy, in fact, to be a claimant, that it is wonderful there +are not more of them.</p> + +<p>Then luncheon was served, and the young lady not only showed a noble +appetite, but to Arnold's astonishment, confessed to an ardent love +for bottled stout.</p> + +<p>"Most American ladies," he said impertinently, "only drink water, do +they not?"</p> + +<p>Lotty perceived that she had made a mistake.</p> + +<p>"I only drink stout," she said, "when the doctor tells me. But I like +it all the same."</p> + +<p>She certainly had no American accent. But she would not talk much; she +was, perhaps, shy. After luncheon, however, Clara asked her if she +would sing, and she complied, showing considerable skill with her +accompaniment, and singing a simple song in good taste and with a +sweet voice. Arnold observed, however, that <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a>[83]</span> there was some weakness +about the letter "h," less common among Americans than among the +English. Presently he went away, and the girl, who had been aware that +he was watching her, breathed more easily.</p> + +<p>"Who is your Cousin Arnold?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"My dear, he is my cousin but not yours. You will not see him often, +because he is going to be married, I am sorry to say, and to be +married beneath him—oh, it is dreadful! to some tradesman's girl, my +dear."</p> + +<p>"Dreadful!" said Iris with a queer look in her eyes. "Well, cousin, I +don't want to see much of him. He's a good-looking chap, too, though +rather too finicking for my taste. I like a man who looks as if he +could knock another man down. Besides, he looks at me as if I was a +riddle, and he wanted to find out the answer."</p> + +<p>In the evening Arnold found that no change had come over the old man. +He was, however, perfectly happy, so that, considering the ruin of his +worldly prospects, it was, perhaps, as well that he had parted, for a +time, at least, with his wits. Some worldly misfortunes there are +which should always produce this effect.</p> + +<p>"You told me," said Lala Roy, "that another Iris had just come from +America to claim an inheritance of your cousin."</p> + +<p>"Yes; it is a very strange coincidence."</p> + +<p>"Very strange. Two Englishmen die in America at the same time, each +having a daughter named Iris, and each daughter entitled to some kind +of inheritance."</p> + +<p>Lala Roy spoke slowly, and with meaning.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried Arnold. "It is more than strange. Do you think—is it +possible—"</p> + +<p>He could not for the moment clothe his thoughts in words.</p> + +<p>"Do you know if any one has brought this girl to England?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; she was brought over by a young American physician, one of the +family who adopted and brought her up."</p> + +<p>"What is he like—the young American physician?"</p> + +<p>"I have not seen him."</p> + +<p>"Go, my young friend, to-morrow morning, and ask your cousin if this +photograph resembles the American physician."</p> + +<p>It was the photograph of a handsome young fellow, with strongly marked +features, apparently tall and well-set-up.</p> + +<p>"Lala, you don't really suspect anything—you don't think—"</p> + +<p>"Hush! I know who has stolen the papers. Perhaps the same man has +produced the heiress."</p> + +<p>"And you think—you suspect that the man who stole the papers is +connected with—But then those papers must be—oh, it cannot be! For +then Iris would be Clara's cousin—Clara's cousin—and the other an +impostor."</p> + +<p>"Even so; everything is possible. But silence. Do not speak a word, +even to Iris. If the papers are lost, they are lost. Say nothing to +her yet; but go—go, and find out if that photograph resembles the +American physician. The river wanders here and there, but the sea +swallows it at last."</p> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a>[84]</span> </p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>MR. JAMES MAKES ATONEMENT.</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p>James arrived as usual in the morning at nine o'clock, in order to + take down the shutters. To his astonishment, he found Lala Roy and + Iris waiting for him in the back shop. And they had grave faces.</p> +<p>"James," said Iris, "your master has suffered a great shock, and is +not himself this morning. His safe has been broken open by some one, +and most important papers have been taken out."</p> + +<p>"Papers, miss—papers? Out of the safe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. They are papers of no value whatever to the thief, whoever he +may be. But they are of the very greatest importance to us. Your +master seems to have lost his memory for a while, and cannot help us +in finding out who has done this wicked thing. You have been a +faithful servant for so long that I am sure you will do what you can +for us. Think for us. Try to remember if anybody besides yourself has +had access to this room when your master was out of it."</p> + +<p>James sat down. He felt that he must sit down, though Lala Roy was +looking at him with eyes full of doubt and suspicion. The whole +enormity of his own guilt, though he had not stolen anything, fell +upon him. He had got the key; he had given it to Mr. Joseph; and he +had received it back again. In fact, at that very moment, it was lying +in his pocket. The worst that he had feared had happened. The safe was +robbed.</p> + +<p>He was struck with so horrible a dread, and so fearful a looking +forward to judgment and condemnation, that his teeth chattered and his +eye gave way.</p> + +<p>"You will think it over, James," said Iris; "think it over, and tell +us presently if you can remember anything."</p> + +<p>"Think it over, Mr. James," Lala Roy repeated in his deepest tone, and +with an emphatic gesture of his right forefinger. "Think it over +carefully. Like a lamp that is never extinguished are the eyes of the +faithful servant."</p> + +<p>They left him, and James fell back into his chair with hollow cheek +and beating heart.</p> + +<p>"He told me," he murmured—"oh, the villain!—he swore to me that he +had taken nothing from the safe. He said he only looked in it, and +read the contents. The scoundrel! He has stolen the papers! He must +have known they were there. And then, to save himself, he put me on to +the job. For who would be suspected if not—oh, Lord!—if not me?"</p> + +<p>He grasped his paste brush, and attacked his work with a feverish +anxiety to find relief in exertion; but his heart was not in it, and +presently a thought pierced his brain, as an arrow pierceth the heart, +and under the pang and agony of it, his face turned ashy-pale, and the +big drops stood upon his brow.</p> + +<p>"For," he thought, "suppose that the thing gets abroad; suppose they +were to advertise a reward; suppose the man who made <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a>[85]</span> the key were to +see the advertisement or to hear about it! And he knows my name, too, +and my business; and he'll let out for a reward—I know he will—who +it was ordered that key of him."</p> + +<p>Already he saw himself examined before a magistrate; already he saw in +imagination that locksmith's man who made the key kissing the +Testament, and giving his testimony in clear and distinct words, which +could not be shaken.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord! oh, Lord!" he groaned. "No one will believe me, even if I +do confess the truth: and as for him, I know him well; if I go to him, +he'll only laugh at me. But I must go to him—I must!"</p> + +<p>He was so goaded by his terror that he left the shop unprotected—a +thing he had never thought to do—and ran as fast as he could to Joe's +lodgings. But he had left them; he was no longer there; he had not +been there for six weeks; the landlady did not know his address, or +would not give it. Then James felt sick and dizzy, and would have sat +down on the doorstep and cried but for the look of the thing. Besides, +he remembered the unprotected shop. So he turned away sadly and walked +back, well understanding now that he had fallen like a tool into a +trap, artfully set to fasten suspicion and guilt upon himself.</p> + +<p>When he returned he found the place full of people. Mr. Emblem was +sitting in his customary place, and he was smiling. He did not look in +the least like a man who had been robbed. He was smiling pleasantly +and cheerfully. Mr. Chalker was also present, a man with whom no one +ever smiled, and Lala Roy, solemn and dignified, and a man—an unknown +man—who sat in the outer shop, and seemed to take no interest at all +in the proceedings. Were they come, he asked himself, to arrest him on +the spot?</p> + +<p>Apparently they were not, for no one took the least notice of him, and +they were occupied with something else. How could they think of +anything else? Yet Mr. Chalker, standing at the table, was making a +speech, which had nothing to do with the robbery.</p> + +<p>"Here I am, you see, Mr. Emblem," he said; "I have told you already +that I don't want to do anything to worry you. Let us be friends all +round. This gentleman, your friend from India, will advise you, I am +sure, for your own good, not to be obstinate. Lord! what is the +amount, after all, to a substantial man like yourself? A substantial +man, I say." He spoke confidently, but he glanced about the shop with +doubtful eyes. "Granted that it was borrowed to get your grandson out +of a scrape—supposing he promised to pay it back and hasn't done so; +putting the case that it has grown and developed itself as bills will +do, and can't help doing, and can't be stopped; it isn't the fault of +the lawyers, but the very nature of a hill to go on growing—it's like +a baby for growing. Why, after all, you were your grandson's +security—you can't escape that. And when I would no longer renew, you +gave of your own accord—come now, you can't deny that—a Bill of Sale +on goods and furniture. Now, Mr. Emblem, didn't, you? Don't let us +have any bitterness or quarreling. Let's be friends, and tell me I may +send away the man."</p> + +<p>Mr. Emblem smiled pleasantly, but did not reply.</p> + +<p>"A Bill of Sale it was, dated January the 25th, 1883, just before that +cursed Act of Parliament granted the five days' notice. Here <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a>[86]</span> is the +bailiff's man in possession. You can pay the amount, which is, with +costs and Sheriff's Poundage, three hundred and fifty-one pounds +thirteen shillings and fourpence, at once, or you may pay it five days +hence. Otherwise the shop, and furniture, and all, will be sold off in +seven days."</p> + +<p>"Oh," James gasped, listening with bewilderment, "we can't be going to +be sold up! Emblem's to be sold up!"</p> + +<p>"Three hundred and fifty pounds!" said Mr. Emblem. "My friend, let us +rather speak of thousands. This is a truly happy day for all of us. +Sit down, Mr. Chalker—my dear friend, sit down. Rejoice with us. A +happy morning."</p> + +<p>"What the devil is the matter with him?" asked the money-lender.</p> + +<p>"There was something, Mr. Chalker," Mr. Emblem went on cheerfully, +"something said about my grandson. Joe was always a bad lot; lucky his +father and mother are out of the way in Australia. You came to me +about that business, perhaps? Oh, on such a joyful day as this I +forgive everybody. Tell Joe I do not want to see him, but I have +forgiven him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's mad!" growled James; "he's gone stark staring mad!"</p> + +<p>"You don't seem quite yourself this morning, Mr. Emblem," said Mr. +Chalker. "Perhaps this gentleman, your friend from India, will advise +you when I am gone. You don't understand, Mister," he addressed Lala +Roy, "the nature of a bill. Once you start a bill, and begin to renew +it, it's like planting a tree, for it grows and grows of its own +accord, and by Act of Parliament, too, though they do try to hack and +cut it down in the most cruel way. You see Mr. Emblem is obstinate. +He's got to pay off that bill, which is a Bill of Sale, and he won't +do it. Make him write the check and have done with it."</p> + +<p>"This is the best day's work I ever did," Mr. Emblem went on. +"To remember the letter, word for word, and everything! +Mr. Arbuthnot has, very likely, finished the whole business +by now. Thousands—thousands—and all for Iris!"</p> + +<p>"Look here, Mr. Emblem," said the lawyer angrily. "You'll not only be +a bankrupt if you go on like this, but you'll be a fraudulent bankrupt +as well. Is it honest, I want to know, to refuse to pay your just +debts when you've put by thousands, as you boast—you actually +boast—for your granddaughter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the old man, "Iris will have thousands."</p> + +<p>"I think, sir," said Lala Roy, "that you are under an illusion. Mr. +Emblem does not possess any such savings or investments as you +imagine."</p> + +<p>"Then why does he go on talking about thousands?"</p> + +<p>"He has had a shock; he cannot quite understand what has happened. You +had better leave him for the present."</p> + +<p>"Leave him! And nothing but these moldy old books! Here, you sir—you +James—you shopman—come here! What is the stock worth?"</p> + +<p>"It depends upon whether you are buying or selling," said James. "If +you were to sell it under the hammer, in lots, it wouldn't fetch a +hundred pounds."</p> + +<p>"There, you hear—you hear, all of you! Not a hundred pounds, and my +Bill of Sale is three-fifty."</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a>[87]</span> </p> + +<p>"Pray, sir," said Lala Roy, "who told you that Mr. Emblem was so +wealthy?"</p> + +<p>"His grandson."</p> + +<p>"Then, sir perhaps it would be well to question the grandson further, +he may know things of which we have heard nothing."</p> + +<p>The Act of 1882, which came into operation in the following January, +is cruel indeed, I am told, to those who advanced money on Bills of +Sale before that date, for it allows—it actually allows the debtor +five clear days during which he may, if he can, without being caught, +make away with portions of his furniture and belongings—the smaller +and the more precious portion; or he may find some one else to lend +him the money, and so get off clear and save his sticks. It is, as the +modern Shylock declares, a most wicked and iniquitous Act, by which +the shark may be balked, and many an honest tradesman, who would +otherwise have been most justly ruined, is enabled to save his stock, +and left to worry along until the times become more prosperous. To a +man like Mr. David Chalker, such an Act of Parliament is most +revolting.</p> + +<p>He went away at length, leaving the man—the professional +person—behind. Then Lala Roy persuaded Mr. Emblem to go upstairs +again. He did so without any apparent consciousness that there was a +Man in Possession.</p> + +<p>"James," said Lala Roy, "you have heard that your master has been +robbed. You are reflecting and meditating on this circumstance. +Another thing is that a creditor has threatened to sell off everything +for a debt. Most likely, everything will be sold, and the shop closed. +You will, therefore, lose the place you have had for five-and-twenty +years. That is a very bad business for you. You are unfortunate this +morning. To lose your place—and then this robbery. That seems also a +bad business."</p> + +<p>"It is," said James with a hollow groan. "It is, Mr. Lala Roy. It is a +dreadful bad business."</p> + +<p>"Pray, Mr. James," continued this man with grave, searching eyes which +made sinners shake in their shoes, "pray, why did you run away, and +where did you go after you opened the shop this morning? You went to +see Mr. Emblem's grandson, did you not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did," said James.</p> + +<p>"Why did you go to see him?"</p> + +<p>"I w—w—went—oh, Lord!—I went to tell him what had happened, +because he is master's grandson, and I thought he ought to know," said +James.</p> + +<p>"Did you tell him?"</p> + +<p>"No; he has left his lodgings. I don't know where he is—oh, and he +always told me the shop was his—settled on him," he said.</p> + +<p>"He is the Father of Lies; his end will be confusion. Shame and +confusion shall wait upon all who have hearkened unto him or worked +with him, until they repent and make atonement."</p> + +<p>"Don't, Mister Lala Roy—don't; you frighten me," said James. "Oh, +what a dreadful liar he is!"</p> + +<p>All the morning the philosopher sat in the bookseller's chair, and +James, in the outer shop, felt that those deep eyes were resting +continually upon him, and knew that bit by bit his secret would be +dragged from him. If he could get up and run away—if a customer + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a>[88]</span> would come—if the dark gentleman would go upstairs—if he could +think of something else! But none of these things happened, and James, +at his table with the paste before him, passed a morning compared with +which any seat anywhere in Purgatory would have been comfortable. +Presently a strange feeling came over him, as if some invisible force +was pushing and dragging him and forcing him to leave his chair, and +throw himself at the Philosopher's feet and confess everything. This +was the mesmeric effect of those reproachful eyes fixed steadily upon +him. And in the doorway, like some figure in a nightmare—a figure +incongruous and out of place—the Man in Possession sitting, passive +and unconcerned, with one eye on the street and the other on the shop. +Upstairs Mr. Emblem was sitting fast asleep; joy had made him sleepy; +and Iris was at work among her pupils' letters, compiling sums for the +Fruiterer, making a paper on Conic Sections for the Cambridge man, and +working out Trigonometrical Equations for the young schoolmaster, and +her mind full of a solemn exultation and glory, for she was a woman +who was loved. The other things troubled her but little. Her +grandfather would get back his equilibrium of mind; the shop might be +shut up, but that mattered little. Arnold, and Lala Roy, and her +grandfather, and herself, would all live together, and she and Arnold +would work. The selfishness of youth is really astonishing. +Nothing—except perhaps toothache—can make a girl unhappy who is +loved and newly betrothed. She may say what she pleases, and her face +may be a yard long when she speaks of the misfortunes of others, but +all the time her heart is dancing.</p> + +<p>To Lala Roy, the situation presented a problem with insufficient data, +some of which would have to be guessed. A letter, now lost, said that +a certain case contained papers necessary to obtain an unknown +inheritance for Iris. How then to ascertain whether anybody was +expecting or looking for a girl to claim an inheritance? Then there +was half a coat-of-arms, and lastly there was a certain customer of +unknown name, who had been acquainted with Iris's father before his +marriage. So far for Iris. As for the thief, Lala Roy had no doubt at +all. It was, he was quite certain, the grandson, whose career he had +watched for some years with interest and curiosity. Who else was there +who would steal the papers? And who would help him, and give him +access to the safe? He did not only suspect, he was certain that James +was in some way cognizant of the deed. Why else did he turn so pale? +Why did he rush off to Joe's lodgings? Why did he sit trembling?</p> + +<p>At half-past twelve Lala Roy rose.</p> + +<p>"It is your dinner-hour," he said to James, and it seemed to the +unhappy man as it he was saying, "I know all." "It is your dinner +hour; go, eat, refresh the body. Whom should suspicion affright except +the guilty?"</p> + +<p>James put on his hat and sneaked—he felt that he was sneaking—out of +the shop.</p> + +<p>During his dinner-hour, Joseph himself called. It was an unusual thing +to see him at any time; in fact, as he was never wont to call upon his +grandfather, unless he was in a scrape and wanted money, no one ever +made the poor young man welcome, or begged him to come more often.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a>[89]</span> </p> + +<p>But this morning, he walked upstairs and appeared so cheerful, so +entirely free from any self-reproach for past sins, and so easy in his +mind, without the least touch of the old hang-dog look, that Iris +began to reproach herself for thinking badly of her cousin.</p> + +<p>When he was told about the robbery, he expressed the greatest surprise +that any one in the world could be so wicked as to rob an old man like +his grandfather. Besides his abhorrence of crime in the abstract, he +affirmed that the robbery of a safe was a species of villainy for +which hanging was too mild—much too mild a punishment. He then asked +his grandfather what were the contents of the packet stolen, and when +he received no answer except a pleasant and a cheery laugh, he asked +Iris, and learned to his sorrow that the contents were unknown, and +could not, therefore, be identified even if they were found. This, he +said, was a thousand pities, because, if they had been known, a reward +might have been offered. For his own part he would advise the greatest +caution. Nothing at all should be done at first; no step should be +taken which might awaken suspicion; they should go on as if the papers +were without value. As for that, they had no real proof that there was +any robbery. Iris thought of telling him about the water-mark of the +blank pages, but refrained. Perhaps there was no robbery after +all—who was to prove what had been inside the packet? But if there +had been papers, and it they were valueless except to the rightful +owners, they would, perhaps, be sent back voluntarily; or after a +time, say a year or two, they might be advertised for; not as if the +owners were very anxious to get them, and not revealing the nature of +the papers, but cautiously; and presently, if they had not been +destroyed, the holders of the papers would answer the advertisement, +and then a moderate reward might, after a while, be offered; and so +on, giving excellent advice. While he was speaking, Lala Roy entered +the room in his noiseless manner, and took his accustomed chair.</p> + +<p>"And what do you think, sir?" said Joseph, when he had finished. "You +have heard my advice. You are not an Englishman, but I suppose you've +got some intelligence."</p> + +<p>Lala bowed and spread his hands, but replied not.</p> + +<p>"Your opinion should be asked," Joseph went on, "because you see, as +the only other person, besides my grandfather and my cousin, in the +house, you might yourself be suspected. Indeed," he added, "I have no +doubt you will be suspected. When I talk over the conduct of the case, +which will be my task, I suppose, it will, perhaps, be my duty to +suspect you."</p> + +<p>Lala bowed again and again, spread his hands, but did not speak.</p> + +<p>In fact, Joseph now perceived that he was having the conversation +wholly to himself. His grandfather sat passive, listening as one who, +in a dream, hears voices but does not heed what they are saying, yet +smiling politely. Iris listened, but paid no heed. She thought that a +great deal of fuss was being made about papers, which, perhaps, were +worth nothing. And as for her inheritance, why, as she never expected +to get any, she was not going to mourn the loss of what, perhaps, was +worth nothing.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," said Joseph, "that's all I've got to say. I've + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a>[90]</span> given you the best advice I can, and I suppose I may go. Have you +lost your voice, Iris?"</p> + +<p>"No; but I think you had better go, Joseph. My grandfather is not able +to talk this morning, and I dare say your advice is very good, but we +have other advisers."</p> + +<p>"As for you, Mr. Lala Roy, or whatever you call yourself," said Joe +roughly, "I've warned you. Suspicion certainly will fall upon you, and +what I say is—take care. For my own part I never did believe in +niggers, and I wouldn't have one in my house."</p> + +<p>Lala Roy bowed again and spread his fingers.</p> + +<p>Then Joseph went away. The door between the shop and the hall was half +open, and he looked in. A strange man was sitting in the outer shop, a +pipe in his mouth, and James was leaning his head upon his hands, with +wild and haggard eyes gazing straight before him.</p> + +<p>"Poor devil," murmured Joseph. "I feel for him, I do indeed. He had +the key made—for himself; he certainly let me use it once, but only +once, and who's to prove it? And he's had the opportunity every day of +using it himself. That's very awkward, Foxy, my boy. If I were Foxy, I +should be in a funk, myself."</p> + +<p>He strolled away, thinking that all promised well. Lotty most +favorably and unsuspiciously received in her new character; no one +knowing the contents of the packet; his grandfather gone silly; and +for himself, he had had the opportunity of advising exactly what he +wished to be done—namely, that silence and inaction should be +observed for a space, in order to give the holders of the property a +chance of offering terms. What better advice could he give? And what +line of action would be better or safer for himself?</p> + +<p>If James had known who was in the house-passage, the other side of the +door, there would, I think, have been a collision of two solid bodies. +But he did not know, and presently Lala Roy came back, and the torture +began again. James took down books and put them up again; he moved +about feverishly, doing nothing, with a duster in his hand; but all +the time he felt those deep accusing eyes upon him with a silence +worse than a thousand questions. He knew—he was perfectly +certain—that he should be found out. And all the trouble for nothing! +and the Bailiff's man in possession, and the safe robbed, and those +eyes upon him, saying, as plain as eyes could speak, "Thou art the +Man!"</p> + +<p>"And Joe is the man," said James; "not me at all. What I did was +wrong, but I was tempted. Oh, what a precious liar and villain he is! +And what a fool I've been!"</p> + +<p>The day passed more slowly than it seemed possible for any day to +pass; always the man in the shop; always the deep eyes of the silent +Hindoo upon him. It was a relief when, once, Mr. Chalker looked in and +surveyed the shelves with a suspicious air, and asked if the old man +had by this time listened to reason.</p> + +<p>It is the business of him who makes plunder out of other men's +distresses—as the jackal feeds upon the offal and the putrid +carcass—to know as exactly as he can how his fellow-creatures are +situated. For this reason such a one doth diligently inquire, listen, +pick up secrets, put two and two together, and pry curiously into +everybody's affairs, being never so happy as when he gets an +opportunity of going to the rescue of a sinking man. Thus among those +who lived in <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a>[91]</span> good repute about the lower end of the King's Road, none +had a better name than Mr. Emblem, and no one was considered to have +made more of his chances. And it was with joy that Mr. Chalker +received Joe one evening and heard from him the dismal story, that if +he could not find fifty pounds within a few hours, he was ruined. The +fifty pounds was raised on a bill bearing Mr. Emblem's name. When it +was presented, however, and the circumstances explained, the old +gentleman, who had at first refused to own the signature, accepted it +meekly, and told no one that his grandson had written it himself, +without the polite formality of asking permission to sign for him. In +other words Joseph was a forger, and Mr. Chalker knew it, and this +made him the more astonished when Mr. Emblem did not take up the bill, +but got it renewed quarter after quarter, substituting at length a +bill of sale, as if he was determined to pay as much as possible for +his grandson's sins.</p> + +<p>"Where is he?" asked the money-lender angrily. "Why doesn't he come +down and face his creditors?"</p> + +<p>"Master's upstairs," said James, "and you've seen yourself, Mr. +Chalker, that he is off his chump. And oh, sir, who would have thought +that Emblem's would have come to ruin?"</p> + +<p>"But there's something, James—Come, think—there must be something."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Joseph said there were thousands. But he's a terrible liar—oh, +Mr. Chalker, he's a terrible liar and villain! Why, he's even deceived +me!"</p> + +<p>"What? Has he borrowed your money?"</p> + +<p>"Worse—worse. Do you know where I could find him, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know—" Mr. Chalker was not in the habit of giving +addresses, but in this case, perhaps Joe might be squeezed as well as +his grandfather. Unfortunately that bill with the signature had been +destroyed. "I don't know. Perhaps if I find out I may tell you. And, +James, if you can learn anything—this rubbish won't fetch half the +money—I'll make it worth your while, James, I will indeed."</p> + +<p>"I'll make him take his share," said James to himself. "If I have to +go to prison, he shall go too. They sha'n't send me without sending +him."</p> + +<p>He looked round. The watchful eyes were gone. The Hindoo had gone away +noiselessly. James breathed again.</p> + +<p>"After all," he said, "how are they to find out? How are they to prove +anything? Mr. Joseph took the things, and I helped him to a key; and +he isn't likely to split, and—oh, Lord, if they were to find it!" For +at that moment he felt the duplicate key in his waistcoat-pocket. "If +they were to find it!"</p> + +<p>He took the key out, and looked at the bright and innocent-looking +thing, as a murderer might look at his blood stained dagger.</p> + +<p>Just then, as he gazed upon it, holding it just twelve inches in front +of his nose, one hand was laid upon his shoulder, and another took the +key from between his fingers.</p> + +<p>He turned quickly, and his knees gave way, and he sunk upon the floor, +crying:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Lala Roy, sir, Mr. Lala Roy, I am not the thief! I am +innocent! I will tell you all about it! I will confess all to you! I + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a>[92]</span> will indeed! I will make atonement! Oh, what a miserable fool I've +been!"</p> + +<p>"Upon the heels of Folly," said the Sage, "treadeth Shame. You will +now be able to understand the words of wisdom, which say of the wicked +man, 'The curse of iniquity pursueth him; he liveth in continual fear; +the anxiety of his mind taketh vengeance upon him.' Stand up and +speak."</p> + +<p>The Man in Possession looked on as if an incident of this kind was too +common in families for him to take any notice of it. Nothing, in fact, +is able to awaken astonishment in the heart of the Man in Possession, +because nothing is sacred to him except the "sticks" he has to guard. +To Iris, the event was, however, of importance, because it afforded +Lala Roy a chance of giving Arnold that photograph, no other than an +early portrait of Mr. Emblem's grandson.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>IS THIS HIS PHOTOGRAPH?</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p>The best way to get a talk with his cousin was to dine with her. + Arnold therefore went to Chester Square next day with the photograph + in his pocket. It was half an hour before dinner when he arrived, and + Clara was alone.</p> +<p>"My dear," she cried with enthusiasm, "I am charmed—I am +delighted—with Iris."</p> + +<p>"I am glad," said Arnold mendaciously.</p> + +<p>"I am delighted with her—in every way. She is more and better than I +could have expected—far more. A few Americanisms, of course—"</p> + +<p>"No doubt," said Arnold. "When I saw her I thought they rather +resembled Anglicisms. But you have had opportunities of judging. You +have in your own possession," he continued, "have you not, all the +papers which establish her identity?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; they are all locked up in my strong-box. I shall be very +careful of them. Though, of course, there is no one who has to be +satisfied except myself. And I am perfectly satisfied. But then I +never had any doubt from the beginning. How could there be any doubt?"</p> + +<p>"How, indeed?"</p> + +<p>"Truth, honor, loyalty, and candor, as well as gentle descent, are +written on that girl's noble brow, Arnold, plain, so that all may +read. It is truly wonderful," she went on, "how the old gentle blood +shows itself, and will break out under the most unexpected conditions. +In her face she is not much like her father; that is true; though +sometimes I catch a momentary resemblance, which instantly disappears +again. Her eyes are not in the least like his, nor has she his manner, +or carriage, or any of his little tricks and peculiarities—though, +perhaps, I shall observe traces of some of them in time. But +especially she resembles him in her voice. The tone—the +timbre—reminds me every moment of my poor Claude."</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said Arnold, "that one must inherit something, if it is +only a voice, from one's father. Have you said anything to her yet +about money matters, and a settlement of her claims?"</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a>[93]</span> </p> + +<p>"No, not yet. I did venture, last night, to approach the subject, but +she would not hear of it. So I dropped it. I call that true delicacy, +Arnold—native, instinctive, hereditary delicacy."</p> + +<p>"Have you given any more money to the American gentleman who brought +her home?"</p> + +<p>"Iris made him take a hundred pounds, against his will, to buy books +with, for he is not rich. Poor fellow! It went much against the grain +with him to take the money. But she made him take it. She said he +wanted books and instruments, and insisted on his having at least a +hundred pounds. It was generous of her. Yes; she is—I am convinced—a +truly generous girl, and as open-handed as the day. Now, would a +common girl, a girl of no descent, have shown so much delicacy and +generosity?"</p> + +<p>"By the way, Clara, here is a photograph. Does it belong to you? I—I +picked it up."</p> + +<p>He showed the photograph which Lala Roy had given him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; it is a likeness of Dr. Washington, Iris's adopted brother +and guardian. She must have dropped it. I should think it was taken a +few years back, but it is still a very good likeness. A handsome man, +is he not? He grows upon one rather. His parting words with Iris +yesterday were very dignified and touching."</p> + +<p>"I will give it to her presently," he replied, without further +comment.</p> + +<p>There was, then, no doubt. The woman was an impostor, and the man was +the thief, and the papers were the papers which had been stolen from +the safe, and Iris Deseret was no other than his own Iris. But he must +not show the least sign of suspicion.</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking about, Arnold?" asked Clara. "Your face is as +black as thunder. You are not sorry that Iris has returned, are you?"</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of my engagement, Clara."</p> + +<p>"Why, you are not tired of it already? An engaged man, Arnold, ought +not to look so gloomy as that."</p> + +<p>"I am not tired of it yet. But I am unhappy as regards some +circumstances connected with it. Your disapproval, Clara, for one. My +dear cousin, I owe so much to you, that I want to owe you more. Now, I +have a proposition—a promise—to make to you. I am now so sure, so +very sure and certain, that you will want me to marry Miss Aglen—and +no one else—when you once know her, that I will engage solemnly not +to marry her unless you entirely approve. Let me owe my wife to you, +as well as everything else."</p> + +<p>"Arnold, you are not in earnest."</p> + +<p>"Quite in earnest."</p> + +<p>"But I shall never approve. Never—never—never! I could not bring +myself, under any circumstances that I can conceive, to approve of +such a connection."</p> + +<p>"My dear cousin, I am, on the other hand, perfectly certain that you +will approve. Why, if I were not quite certain, do you think I should +have made this promise? But to return to your newly-found cousin. Tell +me more about her."</p> + +<p>"Well, I have discovered that she is a really very clever and gifted +girl. She can imitate people in the most wonderful way, especially +actresses, though she has only been to a theater once or twice in her + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a>[94]</span> life. At Liverpool she heard some one sing what she calls a Tropical +Song, and this she actually remembers—she carried it away in her +head, every word—and she can sing it just as they sing it on the +stage, with all the vulgarity and gestures imitated to the very life. +Of course I should not like her to do this before anybody else, but it +is really wonderful."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said Arnold. "It must be very clever and amusing."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Clara, with colossal ignorance, "an American lady +can hardly be expected to understand English vulgarities. No doubt +there is an American variety."</p> + +<p>Arnold thought that a vulgar song could be judged at its true value by +any lady, either American or English, but he said nothing.</p> + +<p>And then the young lady herself appeared. She had been driving about +with Clara among various shops, and now bore upon her person the +charming result of these journeys, in the shape of a garment, which +was rich in texture, and splendid in the making. And she really was a +handsome girl, only with a certain air of being dressed for the stage. +But Arnold, now more than suspicious, was not dazzled by the gorgeous +raiment, and only considered how his cousin could for a moment imagine +this person to be a lady, and how it would be best to break the news.</p> + +<p>"Clara's cousin," she said, "I have forgotten your name; but how do +you do, again?"</p> + +<p>And then they went in to dinner.</p> + +<p>"You have learned, I suppose," said Arnold, "something about the +Deseret family by this time?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I have heard all about the family-tree. I dare say I shall +get to know it by heart in time. But you don't expect me all at once, +to care much for it."</p> + +<p>"Little Republican!" said Clara. "She actually does not feel a pride +in belonging to a good old family."</p> + +<p>The girl made a little gesture.</p> + +<p>"Your family can't do much for you, that I can see, except to make you +proud, and pretend not to see other women in the shop. That is what +the county ladies do."</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear, what on earth do you know of the county ladies?"</p> + +<p>Lotty blushed a little. She had made a mistake. But she quickly +recovered.</p> + +<p>"I only know what I've read, cousin, about any kind of English ladies. +But that's enough, I'm sure. Stuck-up things!"</p> + +<p>And again she observed, from Clara's pained expression, that she had +made another mistake.</p> + +<p>If she showed a liking for stout at lunch, she manifested a positive +passion for champagne at dinner.</p> + +<p>"I do like the English custom," she said, "of having two dinners in +the day."</p> + +<p>"Ladies in America, I suppose," said Clara, "dine in the middle of the +day?"</p> + +<p>"Always."</p> + +<p>"But I have visited many families in New York and Boston who dined +late," said Arnold.</p> + +<p>"Dare say," she replied carelessly. "I'm going to have some <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a>[95]</span> more of +that curry stuff, please. And don't ask any more questions, anybody, +till I've worried through with it. I'm a wolf at curry."</p> + +<p>"She likes England, Arnold," said Clara, covering up this remark, so +to speak. "She likes the country, she says, very much."</p> + +<p>"At all events," said the girl, "I like this house, which is +first-class—fine—proper. And the furniture, and pictures, and +all—tiptop. But I'm afraid it is going to be awful dull, except at +meals, and when the Boy is going." Her own head was just touched by +the "Boy," and she was a little off her guard.</p> + +<p>"My dear child," said Clara, "you have only just come, and you have +not yet learned to know and love your own home and your father's +friends. You must take a little time."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll take time. As long as you like. But I shall soon be tired of +sitting at home. I want to go about and see things—theaters and +music-halls, and all kinds of places."</p> + +<p>"Ladies, in England, do not go to music-halls," said Arnold.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen do. Why not ladies, then? Answer me that. Why can't ladies +go, when gentlemen go? What is proper for gentlemen is proper for +ladies. Very well, then, I want to go somewhere every night. I want to +see everything there is to see, and to hear all that there is to +hear."</p> + +<p>"We shall go, presently, a good deal into society," said Clara +timidly. "Society will come back to town very soon now—at least, some +of it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I dare say. Society! No, thank you, with company manners. I +want to laugh, and talk, and enjoy myself."</p> + +<p>The champagne, in fact, had made her forget the instructions of her +tutor. At all events, she looked anything but "quiet," with her face +flushed and her eyes bright. Suddenly she caught Arnold's expression +of suspicion and watchfulness, and resolutely subdued a rising +inclination to get up from the table and have a walk round with a +snatch of a Topical Song.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, Clara," she murmured in her sweetest tone, "forgive me, +cousin. I feel as if I must break out a bit, now and then. Yankee +manners, you know. Let me stay quiet with you for a while. You know +the thought of starched and stiff London society quite frightens me. I +am not used to anything stiff. Let me stay at home quiet, with you."</p> + +<p>"Dear girl!" cried Clara, her eyes filling with tears; "she has all +Claude's affectionate softness of heart."</p> + +<p>"I believe," said Arnold, later on in the evening, "that she must have +been a circus rider, or something of that sort. What on earth does +Clara mean by the gentle blood breaking out? We nearly had a breaking +out at dinner, but it certainly was not due to the gentle blood."</p> + +<p>After dinner, Arnold found her sitting on a sofa with Clara, who was +telling her something about the glories of the Deseret family. He was +half inclined to pity the girl, or to laugh—he was not certain +which—for the patience with which she listened, in order to make +amends for any bad impression she might have produced at dinner. He +asked her, presently, if she would play. She might be, and certainly +was, vulgar; but she could play well and she knew <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a>[96]</span> good music. People +generally think that good music softens manners, and does not permit +those who play and practice it to be vulgar. But, concerning this +young person, so much could not be said with any truth.</p> + +<p>"You play very well. Where did you learn? Who was your master?" Arnold +asked.</p> + +<p>She began to reply, but stopped short. He had very nearly caught her.</p> + +<p>"Don't ask questions," she said. "I told you not to ask questions +before. Where should I learn, but in America? Do you suppose no one +can play the piano, except in England? Look here," she glanced at her +cousin. "Do you, Mr. Arbuthnot, always spend your evenings like this?"</p> + +<p>"How like this?"</p> + +<p>"Why, going around in a swallow tail to drawing-rooms with the women, +like a tame tom-cat. If you do, you must be a truly good young man. If +you don't, what do you do?"</p> + +<p>"Very often I spend my evenings in a drawing-room."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord! Do most young Englishmen carry on in the same proper way?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Don't they go to music-halls, please, and dancing cribs, and such?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps. But what does it concern us to know what some men do?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not much. Only if I were a man like you, I wouldn't consent to be +a tame tom-cat—that is all; but perhaps you like it."</p> + +<p>She meant to insult and offend him so that he should not come any +more.</p> + +<p>But she did not succeed. He only laughed, feeling that he was getting +below the surface, and sat down beside the piano.</p> + +<p>"You amuse me," he said, "and you astonish me. You are, in fact, the +most astonishing person I ever met. For instance, you come from +America, and you talk pure London slang with a cockney twang. How did +it get there?"</p> + +<p>In fact, it was not exactly London slang, but a patois or dialect, +learned partly from her husband, partly from her companions, and +partly brought from Gloucester.</p> + +<p>"I don't know—I never asked. It came wrapped up in brown paper, +perhaps, with a string round it."</p> + +<p>"You have lived in America all your life, and you look more like an +Englishwoman than any other girl I have ever seen."</p> + +<p>"Do I? So much the better for the English girls; they can't do better +than take after me. But perhaps—most likely, in fact—you think that +American girls all squint, perhaps, or have got humpbacks? Anything +else?"</p> + +<p>"You were brought up in a little American village, and yet you play in +the style of a girl who has had the best masters."</p> + +<p>She did not explain—it was not necessary to explain—that her master +had been her father who was a teacher of music.</p> + +<p>"I can't help it, can I?" she asked; "I can't help it if I turned out +different to what you expected. People sometimes do, you know. And +when you don't approve of a girl, it's English manners, I suppose, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a>[97]</span> to +tell her so—kind of encourages her to persevere, and pray for better +luck next time, doesn't it? It's simple too, and prevents any foolish +errors—no mistake afterward, you see. I say, are you going to come +here often; because, if you are, I shall go away back to the States or +somewhere, or stay upstairs in my own room. You and me won't get on +very well together, I am afraid."</p> + +<p>"I don't think you will see me very often," he replied. "That is +improbable; yet I dare say I shall come here as often as I usually +do."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that?" She looked sharply and suspiciously at +him. He repeated his words, and she perceived that there was meaning +in them, and she felt uneasy.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand at all," she said; "Clara tells me that this house +is mine. Now—don't you know—I don't intend to invite any but my own +friends to visit me in my own house?"</p> + +<p>"That seems reasonable. No one can expect you to invite people who are +not your friends."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I ain't likely to call you my friend"—Arnold inclined +his head—"and I am not going to talk riddles any more. Is there +anything else you want to say?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing more, I think, at present, thank you."</p> + +<p>"If there is, you know, don't mind me—have it out—I'm nobody, of +course. I'm not expected to have any manners—I'm only a girl. You can +say what you please to me, and be as rude as you please; Englishmen +always are as rude as they can be to American girls—I've always heard +that."</p> + +<p>Arnold laughed.</p> + +<p>"At all events," he said, "you have charmed Clara, which is the only +really important thing. Good-night, Miss—Miss Deseret."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, old man," she said, laughing, because she bore no malice, +and had given him a candid opinion; "I dare say when you get rid of +your fine company manners, and put off your swallow tail, you're not a +bad sort, after all. Perhaps, if you would confess, you are as fond of +a kick-up on your way home as anybody. Trust you quiet chaps!"</p> + +<p>Clara had not fortunately heard much of this conversation, which, +indeed, was not meant for her, because the girl was playing all the +time some waltz music, which enabled her to talk and play without +being heard at the other end of the room.</p> + + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + + +<p>Well, there was now no doubt. The American physician and the subject +of the photograph were certainly the same man. And this man was also +the thief of the safe, and Iris Aglen was Iris Deseret. Of that, +Arnold had no longer any reasonable doubt. There was, however, one +thing more. Before leaving Clara's house, he refreshed his memory as +to the Deseret arms. The quarterings of the shield were, so far, +exactly what Mr. Emblem recollected.</p> + +<p>"It is," said Lala Roy, "what I thought. But, as yet, not a word to +Iris."</p> + +<p>He then proceeded to relate the repentance, the confession, and the +atonement proposed by the remorseful James. But he did not tell quite +all. For the wise man never tells all. What really happened was this. +When James had made a clean breast and confessed his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a>[98]</span> enormous share +in the villainy, Lala Roy bound him over to secrecy under pain of Law, +Law the Rigorous, pointing out that although they do not, in England, +exhibit the Kourbash, or bastinado the soles of the feet, they make +the prisoner sleep on a hard board, starve him on skilly, set him to +work which tears his nails from his fingers, keep him from +conversation, tobacco, and drink, and when he comes out, so hedge him +around with prejudice and so clothe him with a robe of shame, that no +one will ever employ him again, and he is therefore doomed to go back +again to the English Hell. Lala Roy, though a man of few words, drew +so vivid a description of the punishment which awaited his penitent +that James, foxy as he was by nature, felt constrained to resolve that +henceforth, happen what might, then and for all future, he would range +himself on the side of virtue, and as a beginning he promised to do +everything that he could for the confounding of Joseph and the +bringing of the guilty to justice.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>HIS LAST CHANCE.</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p>Three days elapsed, during which nothing was done. That cause is + strongest which can afford to wait. But in those three days several + things happened.</p> +<p>First of all, Mr. David Chalker, seeing that the old man was obdurate, +made up his mind to lose most of his money, and cursed Joe continually +for having led him to build upon his grandfather's supposed wealth. +Yet he ought to have known. Tradesmen do not lock up their savings in +investments for their grandchildren, nor do they borrow small sums at +ruinous interest of money-lending solicitors; nor do they give Bills +of Sale. These general rules were probably known to Mr. Chalker. Yet +he did not apply them to this particular case. The neglect of the +General Rule, in fact, may lead the most astute of mankind into ways +of foolishness.</p> + +<p>James, for his part, stimulated perpetually by fear of prison and loss +of character and of situation—for who would employ an assistant who +got keys made to open the safe?—showed himself the most repentant of +mortals. Dr. Joseph Washington, lulled into the most perfect security, +enjoyed all those pleasures which the sum of three hundred pounds +could purchase. Nobody knew where he was, or what he was doing. As for +Lotty, she had established herself firmly in Chester Square, and +Cousin Clara daily found out new and additional proofs of the gentle +blood breaking out!</p> + +<p>On the fourth morning Lala Roy sallied forth. He was about to make a +great Moral Experiment, the nature of which you will immediately +understand. None but a philosopher who had studied Confucius and Lao +Kiun, would have conceived so fine a scheme.</p> + +<p>First he paid a visit to Mr. Chalker.</p> + +<p>The office was the ground-floor front room, in one of the small +streets north of the King's Road. It was not an imposing office, nor +did it seem as if much business was done there; and one clerk of +tender years sufficed for Mr. Chalker's wants.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he said, "it's our friend from India. You're a lodger of old +Emblem's, ain't you?"</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a>[99]</span> </p> + +<p>"I have lived with him for twenty years. I am his friend."</p> + +<p>"Very well. I dare say we shall come to terms, if he's come to his +senses. Just take a chair and sit down. How is the old man?"</p> + +<p>"He has not yet recovered the use of his intellect."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Then how can you act for him if he's off his head?"</p> + +<p>"I came to ask an English creditor to show mercy."</p> + +<p>"Mercy? What is the man talking about? Mercy! I want my money. What +has that got to do with mercy?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, truly; but I will give you your money. I will give you +justice, and you shall give me mercy. You lent Mr. Emblem fifty +pounds. Will you take your fifty pounds, and leave us in peace?"</p> + +<p>He drew a bag out of his pocket—a brown banker's bag—and Mr. Chalker +distinctly heard the rustling of notes.</p> + +<p>This is a sound which to some ears is more delightful than the finest +music in the world. It awakens all the most pleasurable emotions; it +provokes desire and hankering after possession; and it fills the soul +with the imaginary enjoyment of wealth.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," said Mr. Chalker, confident that better terms than +those would be offered. "If that is all you have to say, you may go +away again."</p> + +<p>"But the rest is usury. Think! To give fifty, and ask three hundred +and fifty, is the part of an usurer."</p> + +<p>"Call it what you please. The bill of sale is for three hundred and +fifty pounds. Pay that three hundred and fifty, with costs and +sheriff's poundage, and I take away my man. If you don't pay it, then +the books on the shelves and the furniture of the house go to the +hammer."</p> + +<p>"The books, I am informed," said Lala Roy, "will not bring as much as +a hundred pounds if they are sold at auction. As for the furniture, +some of it is mine, and some belongs to Mr. Emblem's granddaughter."</p> + +<p>"His granddaughter! Oh, it's a swindle," said Mr. Chalker angrily. "It +is nothing more or less than a rank swindle. The old man ought to be +prosecuted, and, mind you, I'll prosecute him, and you too, for +conspiring with him."</p> + +<p>"A prosecution," said the Hindoo, "will not hurt him, but it might +hurt you. For it would show how you lent him fifty pounds five years +ago; how you made him give you a bill for a hundred; how you did not +press him to pay that bill, but you continually offered to renew it +for him, increasing the amount on each time of renewal; and at last +you made him give you a bill of sale for three hundred and fifty. This +is, I suppose, one of the many ways in which Englishmen grow rich. +There are also usurers in India, but they do not, in my country, call +themselves lawyers. A prosecution. My friend, it is for us to +prosecute. Shall we show that you have done the same thing with many +others? You are, by this time, well known in the neighborhood, Mr. +Chalker, and you are so much beloved that there are many who would be +delighted to relate their experiences and dealings with so clever a +man. Have you ever studied, one asks with wonder, the Precepts of the +great Sage who founded your religion?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, come, don't let us have any religious nonsense!"</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a>[100]</span> </p> + +<p>"I assure you they are worth studying. I am, myself, an humble +follower of Gautama, but I have read those precepts with profit. In +the kingdom imagined by that preacher, there is no room for usurers, +Mr. Chalker. Where, then, will be your kingdom? Every man must be +somewhere. You must have a kingdom and a king."</p> + +<p>"This is tomfoolery!" Mr. Chalker turned red, and looked very +uncomfortable. "Stick to business. Payment in full. Those are my +terms."</p> + +<p>"You think, then, that the Precepts of your Sage are only intended for +men while they sit in the church? Many Englishmen think so, I have +observed."</p> + +<p>"Payment in full, mister. That's what I want."</p> + +<p>He banged his fist on the table.</p> + +<p>"No abatement? No mercy shown to an old man on the edge of the grave? +Think, Mr. Chalker. You will soon be as old as Mr. Emblem, your hair +as white, your reason as unsteady—"</p> + +<p>"Payment in full, and no more words."</p> + +<p>"It is well. Then, Mr. Chalker, I have another proposal to make to +you."</p> + +<p>"I thought we should come to something more. Out with it!"</p> + +<p>"I believe you are a friend of Mr. Emblem's grandson?"</p> + +<p>"Joe? Oh yes, I know Joe."</p> + +<p>"You know him intimately?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I may say so."</p> + +<p>"You know that he forged his grandfather's name; that he is a +profligate and a spendthrift, and that he has taken or borrowed from +his grandfather whatever money he could get, and that—in short, he is +a friend of your own?"</p> + +<p>It was not until after his visitor had gone that Mr. Chalker +understood, and began to resent this last observation.</p> + +<p>"Go on," he said. "I know all about Joe."</p> + +<p>"Good. Then, if you can tell me anything about him which may be of use +to me I will do this. I will pay you double the valuation of Mr. +Emblem's shop, in return, for a receipt in full. If you can not, you +may proceed to sell everything by auction."</p> + +<p>Mr. Chalker hesitated. A valuation would certainly give a higher +figure than a forced sale, and then that valuation doubled!</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "I don't know. It's a cruel hard case to be done out +of my money. How am I to find out whether anything I tell you would be +of use to you or not? What kind of thing do you want? How do I know +that if you get what you want, you won't swear it is of no use to +you?"</p> + +<p>"You have the word of one who never broke his word."</p> + +<p>Mr. Chalker laughed derisively.</p> + +<p>"Why," he said, "I wouldn't take the word of an English bishop—no, +nor of an archbishop—where money is concerned. What is it—what is +the kind of thing you want to know?"</p> + +<p>"It is concerned with a certain woman."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, if it is only a woman! I thought it might be something +about money. Joe, you see, like a good many other people, has got his +own ideas about money, and perhaps he isn't so strict in his dealings +as he might be—few men are—and I should not like to let out one or +two things that only him and me know." In fact, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a>[101]</span> Mr. Chalker saw, in +imagination, the burly form of Joe in his office, brandishing a stick, +and accusing him of friendship's trust betrayed.</p> + +<p>"But as it is only a woman—which of 'em is it?"</p> + +<p>"This is a young woman, said to be handsome, tall, and finely-made; +she has, I am told, light brown hair and large eyes. That is the +description of her given to me."</p> + +<p>"I know the girl you mean. Splendid figure, and goes well in tights?"</p> + +<p>"I have not been informed on that subject. Can you tell me any more +about her?"</p> + +<p>"I suspect, mister," said Joe's friend, with cunning eyes, "that +you've made the acquaintance of a certain widow that was—married +woman that is. I remember now, I've seen Hindoos about her lodgings, +down Shadwell way."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Lala, "and perhaps not." His face showed not the least +sign which could be read. "You can tell me afterward what you know of +the woman at Shadwell."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, Joe thinks I know nothing about it. Else I wouldn't tell +you. Because I don't want a fight with Joe. Is this any use to you? He +is married to the girl as well as to the widow."</p> + +<p>"He is married to the girl as well as to the widow. He has, then, two +wives. It is against the English custom, and breaks the English law. +The young wife who is beautiful, and the old wife who has the +lodging-house. Very good. What is the address of this woman?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Chalker looked puzzled.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know it, then? What are you driving at?"</p> + +<p>"What is the name and address of this Shadwell woman?"</p> + +<p>"Well, then"—he wrote an address and handed it over—"you may be as +close as you like. I don't care. It isn't my business. But you won't +make me believe you don't know all about her. Look here, whatever +happens, don't say I told you."</p> + +<p>"It shall be a secret," said Lala, taking out the bag of notes. "Let +us complete the business at once, Mr. Chalker. Here is another offer. +I will give you two hundred pounds in discharge of your whole claim, +or you shall have a valuation made, if you prefer it, and I will +double the amount."</p> + +<p>Mr. Chalker chose the former promptly, and in a few moments handed +over the necessary receipts, and sent his clerk to recall the Man in +Possession.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do with Joe?" he asked. "No good turn, I'll +swear. And a more unforgiving face than yours I never set eyes on. It +isn't my business, but I'll give you one warning. If you make Joe +desperate, he'll turn on you; and Lord help your slender ribs if Joe +once begins. Don't make him desperate. And now I'll tell you another +thing. First, the woman at Shadwell is horribly jealous. She'll make a +row. Next, the young one, who sings at a music-hall, she's desperately +in love with her husband—more than he is with her—and if a woman's +in love with a man, there's one thing she never forgives. You +understand what that is. Between the pair, Joe's likely to have a +rough time."</p> + +<p>"I do. I have had many wives myself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord, he says he's had many wives! How many?"</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a>[102]</span> </p> + +<p>Lala Roy read the receipt, and put it in his pocket. Then he rose and +remarked, with a smile of supreme superiority:</p> + +<p>"It is a pleasure to give money to you, and to such as you, Mr. +Chalker."</p> + +<p>"Is it?" he replied with a grin. "Give me some more, then."</p> + +<p>"You are one of those who, the richer they become, the less harm they +do. Many Englishmen are of this disposition. When they are poor they +are jackals, hyenas, wolves, and man-eating tigers; when they are rich +they are benevolent and charitable, and show mercy unto the wretched +and the poor. So that, in their case, the words of the Wise Man are +naught, when he says that the earth is barren of good things where she +hoardeth treasure; and that where gold is in her bowels no herb +groweth. Pray, Mr. Chalker, pray earnestly for gold in order that you +may become virtuous."</p> + +<p>Mr. Chalker grinned, but looked uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>"I will, mister," he said, "I will pray with all my might."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, he remained for the space of the whole morning in +uneasiness. The words of the Philosopher troubled him. I do not go so +far as to say that his mind went back to the days when he was young +and innocent, because he was still young, and he never had been +innocent; nor do I say that a tear rose to his eyes and trickled down +his cheek, because nothing brought tears into his eyes except a speck +of dust; or that he resolved to confine himself for the future to +legitimate lawyer's work, because he would then have starved. I only +say that he felt uncomfortable and humiliated, and chiefly so because +an old man with white hair and a brown skin—hang it! a common +nigger—had been able to bring discord into the sweet harmony of his +thoughts.</p> + +<p>Lala Roy then betook himself to Joe's former lodgings, and asked for +that gentleman's present address.</p> + +<p>The landlady professed to know nothing.</p> + +<p>"You do know, however," he persisted, reading knowledge in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Is it trouble you mean for him?" asked the woman, "and him such a +fine, well-set-up young man, too! Is it trouble? Oh, dear, I always +thought he got his money on the cross. Look here. I ain't going to +round on him, though he has gone away and left a comfortable room. So +there! And you may go."</p> + +<p>Lala Roy opened his hand. There were at least five golden sovereigns +glorifying his dingy palm.</p> + +<p>"Can gold," the moralist asked, "ever increase the virtue of man? +Woman, how much?"</p> + +<p>"Is it trouble?" she repeated, looking greedily at the money. "Will +the young man get copped?"</p> + +<p>Lala understood no London slang. But he showed his hand again.</p> + +<p>"How much? Who so is covetous let him know that his heart is poor. How +much?"</p> + +<p>"Poor young man! I'll take them all, please, sir. What's he done?"</p> + +<p>"Where does he live?"</p> + +<p>"I know where he lives," she said, "because our Bill rode away with +him at the back of his cab, and saw where he got out. He's married +now, and his wife sings at the music-hall, and he lives on <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a>[103]</span> her +earnings. Quite the gentleman he is now, and smokes cigars all day +long. There's his address, and thank you for the money. Oh," she said +with a gasp. "To think that people can earn five pounds so easy."</p> + +<p>"May the gold procure you happiness—such happiness as you desire!" +said Lala Roy.</p> + +<p>"It will nearly pay the quarter's rent. And that's about happiness +enough for one morning."</p> + +<p>Joe was sitting in his room alone, half asleep. In fact, he had a head +upon him. He sprung to his feet, however, when he saw Lala Roy.</p> + +<p>"Hallo!" he cried. "You here, Nig? How the devil did you find out my +address?"</p> + +<p>There was not only astonishment, but some alarm upon his countenance.</p> + +<p>"Never mind. I want a little conversation with you, Mr. Joseph."</p> + +<p>"Well, sit down and let us have it out. I say, have you come to tell +me that you did sneak those papers, after all? What did you get for +them?"</p> + +<p>"I have not come to tell you that. I dare say, however, we shall be +able, some day, to tell you who did steal the papers—if any were +stolen, that is."</p> + +<p>"Quite so, my jolly mariner. If any were stolen. Ho, ho! you've got to +prove that first, haven't you? How's the old man?"</p> + +<p>"He is ill; he is feeble with age; he is weighed down with misfortune. +I am come, Mr. Joseph, to ask your help for him."</p> + +<p>"My help for him? Why, can't he help himself?"</p> + +<p>"Four or five years ago he incurred a debt for one who forged his +name. He needed not to have paid that money, but he saved a man from +prison."</p> + +<p>"Who was that? Who forged his name?"</p> + +<p>"I do not name that man, whose end will be confusion, unless he repent +and make amends. This debt has grown until it is too large for him to +pay it. Unless it is paid, his whole property, his very means of +living, will be sold by the creditor."</p> + +<p>"How can I pay him back? It is three hundred and fifty pounds now," +said Joseph.</p> + +<p>"Man, thou hast named thyself."</p> + +<p>Joseph stammered but blustered still.</p> + +<p>"Well—then—what the devil do you mean—you and your forgery?"</p> + +<p>"Forgery is one crime: you have since committed, perhaps, others. +Think. You have been saved once from prison. Will any one save you a +second time? How have you shown your gratitude? Will you now do +something for your benefactor?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, I say? What do you mean by your forgery and prison? +Hang me, if I oughtn't to kick you out of the room. I would, too, if +you were ten years younger. Do you know, sir, that you are addressing +an officer and a gentleman?"</p> + +<p>"There is sometimes, even at the very end, a door opened for +repentance. The door is open now. Young man, once more, consider. Your +grandfather is old and destitute. Will you help him?"</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a>[104]</span> </p> + +<p>Joseph hesitated.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe he is poor. He has saved up all his money for the +girl; let her help him."</p> + +<p>"You are wrong. He has saved nothing. His granddaughter maintains +herself by teaching. He has not a penny. You have got from him, and +you have spent all the money he had."</p> + +<p>"He ought to have saved."</p> + +<p>"He could, at least, have lived by his calling but for you and for +this debt which was incurred by you. He is ruined by it. What will you +do for him?"</p> + +<p>"I am not going to do anything for him," said Joseph. "Is it likely? +Did he ever have anything but a scowl for me?"</p> + +<p>"He who injures another is always in the wrong. You will, then, do +nothing? Think. It is the open door. He is your grandfather; he has +kept you from starvation when you were turned out of office for drink +and dishonesty. I heard that you now have money. I have been told that +you have been seen to show a large sum of money. Will you give him +some?"</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, Joe had been, the night before, having a festive +evening at the music-hall, from which his wife was absent, owing to +temporary indisposition. While there, he took so much Scotch whisky +and water that his tongue was loosened and he became boastful; and +that to so foolish an extent that he actually brandished in the eyes +of the multitude a whole handful of banknotes. He now remembered this, +and was greatly struck by the curious fact that Lala Roy should seem +to know it.</p> + +<p>"I haven't got any money. It was all brag last night. I couldn't help +my grandfather if I wanted to."</p> + +<p>"You have what is left of three hundred pounds," said Lala Roy.</p> + +<p>"If I said that last night," replied Joe, "I must have been drunker +than I thought. You old fool! the flimsies were duffers. Where do you +think I could raise three hundred pounds? No, no—I'm sorry for the +old man, but I can't help him. I'm going to see him again in a day or +two. We jolly sailors don't make much money, but if a pound or two, +when I come home, will be of any use to him, he's only got to say the +word. After all, I believe it's a kid, got up between you. The old man +must have saved something."</p> + +<p>"You will suffer him, then, even to be taken to the workhouse?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I can't help it, and I suppose you'll have to go there too. Ho, +ho! I say, Nig!" He began to laugh. "Ho, ho! They won't let you wear +that old fez of yours at the workhouse. How beautiful you'll look in +the workhouse uniform, won't you? I'll come home, and bring you some +'baccy. Now you can cheese it, old 'un."</p> + +<p>"I will go, if that is what you mean. It is the last time that you +will be asked to help your grandfather. The door is closed. You have +had one more chance, and you have thrown it away."</p> + +<p>So he departed, and Joe, who was of a self-reliant and sanguine +disposition, thought nothing of the warning, which was therefore +thrown away and wasted.</p> + +<p>As for Lala, he called a cab, and drove to Shadwell. And if any man +ever felt that he was an instrument set apart to carry out a scheme of +vengeance, that Hindoo philosopher felt like one. The <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a>[105]</span> Count of Monte +Cristo himself was not more filled with the faith and conviction of +his divine obligation.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon he returned to Chelsea, and perhaps one who knew him +might have remarked upon his face something like a gleam of +satisfaction. He had done his duty.</p> + +<p>It was now five days since the fatal discovery. Mr. Emblem still +remained upstairs in his chair; but he was slowly recovering. He +clearly remembered that he had been robbed, and the principal sign of +the shock was his firm conviction that by his own exercise of memory +Iris had been enabled to enter into possession of her own.</p> + +<p>As regards the Bill of Sale, he had clean forgotten it. Now, in the +morning, there happened a thing which surprised James very much. The +Man in Possession was recalled. He went away. So that the money must +have been paid. James was so astonished that he ran upstairs to tell +Iris.</p> + +<p>"Then," said the girl, "we shall not be turned out after all. But who +has paid the money?"</p> + +<p>It could have been no other than Arnold. Yet when, later in the day, +he was taxed with having committed the good action, Arnold stoutly +denied it. He had not so much money in the world, he said; in fact, he +had no money at all.</p> + +<p>"The good man," said the Philosopher, "has friends of whom he knoweth +not. As the river returns its waters to the sea, so the heart +rejoiceth in returning benefits received."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lala," said Iris. "But on whom have we conferred any benefits?"</p> + +<p>"The moon shines upon all alike," said Lala, "and knows not what she +illumines."</p> + +<p>"Lala Roy," said Arnold, suddenly getting a gleam of intelligence, "it +is you who have paid this money."</p> + +<p>"You, Lala?"</p> + +<p>"No one else could have paid it," said Arnold.</p> + +<p>"But I thought—I thought—" said Iris.</p> + +<p>"You thought I had no money at all. Children, I have some. One may +live without money in Hindostan, but in England even the Philosopher +cannot meditate unless he can pay for food and shelter. I have money, +Iris, and I have paid the usurer enough to satisfy him. Let us say no +more."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lala!" The tears came to Iris's eyes. "And now we shall go on +living as before."</p> + +<p>"I think not," he replied. "In the generations of Man, the seasons +continue side by side; but spring does not always continue with +winter."</p> + +<p>"I know, now," interrupted Mr. Emblem, suddenly waking into life and +recollection; "I could not remember at first. Now I know very well, +but I cannot tell how, that the man who stole my papers is my own +grandson. James would not steal. James is curious; he wants to read +over my shoulders what I am writing. He would pry and find out. But he +would not steal. It doesn't matter much—does it?—since I was able to +repair the loss—I always had a most excellent memory—and Iris has +now received her inheritance; but it is my grandson Joe who has stolen +the papers. My daughter's son came home from Australia when—but this +I learned afterward—he <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a>[106]</span> had already disgraced himself there. He ran +into debt, and I paid his debts; he forged my name and I accepted the +bill; he took all the money I could let him have, and still he asked +for more. There is no one in the world who would rob me of those +papers except Joseph."</p> + +<p>Now, the door was open to the staircase, and the door of communication +between the shop and the house-passage was also open. This seems a +detail hardly worth noting; yet it proved of the greatest importance. +From such small trifles follow great events. Observe that as yet no +positive proof was in the hands of the two conspirators which would +actually connect Iris with Claude Deseret. The proofs were in the +stolen papers, and though Clara had those papers, who was to show that +these papers were actually those in the sealed packet?</p> + +<p>When Mr. Emblem finished speaking, no one replied, because Arnold and +Lala knew the facts already, but did not wish to spread them abroad: +and next, because to Iris it was nothing new that her cousin was a bad +man, and because she thought, now that the Man in Possession was gone, +they might just as well forget the papers, and go on as if all this +fuss had not happened.</p> + +<p>In the silence that followed this speech, they heard the voice of +James down-stairs, saying:</p> + +<p>"I am sorry to say, sir, that Mr. Emblem is ill upstairs, and you +can't see him to-day."</p> + +<p>"Ill, is he? I am very sorry. Take him my compliments, James. Mr. +Frank Farrar's compliments, and tell him—"</p> + +<p>And then Mr. Emblem sprung to his feet, crying:</p> + +<p>"Stop him! stop him! Go down-stairs, some one, and stop him! I don't +know where he lives. Stop him! stop him!"</p> + +<p>Arnold rushed down the stairs. He found in the shop an elderly +gentleman, carrying a bundle of books. It was, in fact, Mr. Farrar +come to negotiate the sale of another work from his library.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, sir," said Arnold, "Mr. Emblem is most anxious to +see you. Would you step upstairs?"</p> + +<p>"Quick, Mr. Farrar—quick," the old man held him tight by the hand. +"Tell me before my memory runs away with me again—tell me. Listen, +Iris! Yet it doesn't matter, because you have already—Tell me—" He +seemed about to wander again, but he pulled himself together with a +great effort. "You knew my son-in-law before his marriage?"</p> + +<p>"Surely, Mr. Emblem; I knew your son-in-law, and his father, and all +his people."</p> + +<p>"And his name was not Aglen, at all?" asked Arnold.</p> + +<p>"No; he took the name of Aglen from a fancied feeling of pride when he +quarreled with his father about—well, it was about his marriage, as +you know, Mr. Emblem; he came to London, and tried to make his way by +writing, and thought to do it, and either to hide a failure or +brighten a success, by using a pseudonym. People were more jealous +about their names in those days. He had better," added the +unsuccessful veteran of letters, "he had far better have made his +living as a—as a"—he looked about him for a fitting simile—"as a +bookseller."</p> + +<p>"Then, sir," said Arnold, "what was his real name?"</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a>[107]</span></p> +<p>"His name was Claude Deseret, of course."</p> + +<p>"Iris," said Arnold, taking her hand, "this is the last proof. We have +known it for four or five days, but we wanted the final proof, and now +we have it. My dear, you are the cousin of Clara Holland, and all her +fortune, by her grandfather's will, is yours. This is the secret of +the safe. This was what the stolen papers told you."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>THE HAND OF FATE.</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<p>At the first stroke of noon next day, Arnold arrived at his cousin's + house in Chester Square. He was accompanied by Iris, by Lala Roy, and + by Mr. Frank Farrar.</p> +<p>"Pray, Arnold, what is meant by all this mystery?" asked Clara, +receiving him and his party with considerable surprise.</p> + +<p>"I will explain all in a few minutes, my dear Clara. Meanwhile, have +you done what you promised?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I wrote to Dr. Washington. He will be here, I expect, in a few +minutes."</p> + +<p>"You wrote exactly in the form of words you promised me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, exactly. I asked him to meet me here this morning at a quarter +past twelve, in order to discuss a few points connected with Iris's +future arrangements, before he left for America, and I wrote on the +envelope, 'Immediate and important.'"</p> + +<p>"Very well. He will be sure to come, I think. Perhaps your cousin will +insist upon another check for fifty pounds being given to him."</p> + +<p>"Arnold, you are extremely suspicious and most ungenerous about Dr. +Washington, on whose truth and disinterested honesty I thoroughly +rely."</p> + +<p>"We shall see. Meanwhile, Clara, I desire to present to you a young +lady of whom we have already spoken. This is Miss Aglen, who is, I +need hardly say, deeply anxious to win your good opinion. And this is +Lala Roy, an Indian gentleman who knew her father, and has lived in +the same house with her for twenty years. Our debt—I shall soon be +able to say your debt—of gratitude to this gentleman for his long +kindness to Miss Aglen—is one which can never be repaid."</p> + +<p>Clara gave the most frigid bow to both Iris and Lala Roy.</p> + +<p>"Really, Arnold, you are talking in enigmas this morning. What am I to +understand? What has this gentleman to do with my appointment with Dr. +Washington?"</p> + +<p>"My dear cousin, I am so happy this morning that I wonder I do not +talk in conundrums, or rondeaux, or terza rima. It is a mere chance, I +assure you. Perhaps I may break out in rhymes presently. This evening +we will have fireworks in the square, roast a whole ox, invite the +neighbors, and dance about a maypole. You shall lead off the dance, +Clara."</p> + +<p>"Pray go on, Arnold. All this is very inexplicable."</p> + +<p>"This gentleman, however, is a very old friend of yours, Clara. Do you +not recognize Mr. Frank Farrar, who used to stay at the Hall in the +old days?" <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a>[108]</span></p> + +<p>"I remember Mr. Farrar very well." Clara gave him her +hand. "But I should not have known him. Why have we never met in +society during all these years, Mr. Farrar?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose because I have been out of society, Miss Holland," said the +scholar. "When a man marries, and has a large family, and a small +income, and grows old, and has to see the young fellows shoving him +out at every point, he doesn't care much about society. I hope you are +well and happy."</p> + +<p>"I am very well, and I ought to be happy, because I have recovered +Claude's lost heiress, my cousin, Iris Deseret, and she is the best +and most delightful of girls, with the warmest heart and the sweetest +instincts of a lady by descent and birth."</p> + +<p>She looked severely at Arnold, who said nothing, but smiled +incredulously.</p> + +<p>Mr. Farrar looked from Iris to Miss Holland, bewildered.</p> + +<p>"And why do you come to see me to-day, Mr. Farrar—and with Arnold?"</p> + +<p>"Because I have undertaken to answer one question presently, which Mr. +Arbuthnot is to ask me. That is why I am here. Not but what it gives +me the greatest pleasure to see you again, Miss Holland, after so many +years."</p> + +<p>"Our poor Claude died in America, you know, Mr. Farrar."</p> + +<p>"So I have recently heard."</p> + +<p>"And left one daughter."</p> + +<p>"That also I have learned." He looked at Iris.</p> + +<p>"She is with me, here in this house, and has been with me for a week. +You may understand, Mr. Farrar, the happiness I feel in having with me +Claude's only daughter."</p> + +<p>Mr. Farrar looked from her to Arnold with increasing amazement. But he +said nothing.</p> + +<p>"I have appointed this morning, at Arnold's request," Clara went on, +"to have an interview, perhaps the last, with the gentleman who +brought my dear Iris from America. I say, at Arnold's request, because +he asked me to do this, and I have always trusted him implicitly, and +I hope he is not going to bring trouble upon us now, although I do +not, I confess, understand the presence of his friends or their +connection with my cousin."</p> + +<p>"My dear Clara," said Arnold again, "I ask for nothing but patience. +And that only for a few moments. As for the papers, you have them all +in your possession?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; they are locked up in my strong-box."</p> + +<p>"Do not, on any account, give them to anybody. However, after this +morning you will not be asked. Have you taken as yet any steps at all +for the transference of your property to—to the rightful heir?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet."</p> + +<p>"Thank goodness! And now, Clara, I will ask you, as soon as Dr. +Washington and—your cousin—are in the drawing-room, to ring the +bell. You need not explain why. We will answer the summons, and we +will give all the explanations that may be required."</p> + +<p>"I will not have my cousin vexed, Arnold."</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a>[109]</span> </p> + +<p>"You shall not. Your cousin shall never be vexed by me as long as I +live."</p> + +<p>"And Dr. Washington must not be in any way offended. Consider the +feelings of an American gentleman, Arnold. He is my guest."</p> + +<p>"You may thoroughly rely upon my consideration for the feelings of an +American gentleman. Go; there is a knock at the door. Go to receive +him, and, when both are in the room, ring the bell."</p> + +<p>Joe was in excellent spirits that morning. His interview with Lala Roy +convinced him that nothing whatever was known of the papers, therefore +nothing could be suspected. What a fool, he thought, must be his +grandfather, to have had these papers in his hands for eighteen years +and never to have opened the packet, in obedience to the injunction of +a dead man! Had it been his own case, he would have opened the papers +without the least delay, mastered the contents, and instantly claimed +the property. He would have gone on to use it for his own purposes and +private gain, and with an uninterrupted run of eighteen years, he +would most certainly have made a very pretty thing out of it.</p> + +<p>However, everything works well for him who greatly dares. His wife +would manage for him better than he could do it for himself. Yet a few +weeks, and the great fortune would fall into his hands. He walked all +the way to Chester Square, considering how he should spend the money. +There are some forms of foolishness, such as, say, those connected +with art, literature, charity, and work for others, which attract some +rich men, but which he was not at all tempted to commit. There were +others, however, connected with horses, races, betting, and gambling, +which tempted him strongly. In fact, Joseph contemplated spending this +money wholly on his own pleasures. Probably it would be a part of his +pleasure to toss a few crumbs to his wife.</p> + +<p>It is sad to record that Lotty, finding herself received with so much +enthusiasm, had already begun to fall off in her behavior. Even Clara, +who thought she discovered every hour some new point of resemblance in +the girl to her father, was fain to admit that the "Americanisms" were +much too pronounced for general society.</p> + +<p>Her laugh was louder and more frequent; her jests were rough and +common; she used slang words freely; her gestures were extravagant, +and she walked in the streets as if she wished every one to notice +her. It is the walk of the Music-Hall stage, and the trick of it +consists chiefly in giving, so to speak, prominence to the shoulders +and oscillation to the skirts. In fact, she was one of those ladies +who ardently desire that all the world should notice them.</p> + +<p>Further, in her conversation, she showed an acquaintance with certain +phases of the English lower life which was astonishing in an American +girl. But Clara had no suspicion—none whatever. One thing the girl +did which pleased her mightily.</p> + +<p>She was never tired of hearing about her father, and his way of +looking, standing, walking, folding his hands, and holding himself. +And constantly more and more Clara detected these little tricks in his +daughter. Perhaps she learned them.</p> + +<p>"My dear," she said, "to think that I ever thought you unlike your +dear father!"</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a>[110]</span> </p> + +<p>So that it made her extremely uncomfortable to detect a certain +reserve in Arnold toward the girl, and then a dislike of Arnold in the +girl herself. However, she was accustomed to act by Arnold's advice, +and consented, when he asked her, to arrange so that Arnold might meet +Dr. Washington. As if anything that so much as looked like suspicion +could be thought of for a moment!</p> + +<p>But the bell rang, and Arnold, followed by his party, led the way from +the morning room to the drawing room. Dr. Joseph Washington was +standing with his back to the door. The girl was dressed as if she had +just come from a walk, and was holding Clara's hand.</p> + +<p>"Yes, madam," he was saying softly, "I return to-morrow to America, +and my wife and my children. I leave our dear girl in the greatest +confidence in your hands. I only venture to advise that, to avoid +lawyers' expenses, you should simply instruct somebody—the right +person—to transfer the property from your name to the name of Iris. +Then you will be saved troubles and formalities of every kind. As for +me, my home is in America—"</p> + +<p>"No, Joseph," said Lala Roy gently; "it is in Shadwell."</p> + +<p>"It is a lie!" he cried, starting; "it is an infernal lie!"</p> + +<p>"Iris," said Arnold, "lift your veil, my dear. Mr. Farrar, who is this +young lady? Look upon this face, Clara."</p> + +<p>"This is the daughter of Claude Deseret," said Mr. Farrar, "if she is +the daughter of the man who married Alice Emblem, and went by the name +of Aglen."</p> + +<p>Clara turned a terrified face to Arnold.</p> + +<p>"Arnold, help me!"</p> + +<p>"Whose face is this?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"It is—good Heavens!—it is the face of your portrait. It is Claude's +face again. They are his very eyes—" She covered her face with her +hands. "Oh, Arnold, what is it! Who is this other?"</p> + +<p>"This other lady, Clara, is a Music-Hall Singer, who calls herself +Carlotta Claridane, wife of this man, who is not an American at all, +but the grandson of Mr. Emblem, the bookseller, and therefore cousin +of Iris. It is he who robbed his grandfather of the papers which you +have in your possession, Clara. And this is an audacious conspiracy, +which we have been so fortunate as to unearth and detect, step by +step."</p> + +<p>"Oh, can such wickedness be?" said Clara; "and in my house, too?"</p> + +<p>"Joe," said Lotty, "the game is up. I knew it wouldn't last."</p> + +<p>"Let them prove it," said Joe; "let them prove it. I defy you to prove +it."</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool, Joe," said his wife. "Remember," she whispered, +"you've got a pocketful of money. Let us go peaceably."</p> + +<p>"As for you, Nigger," said Joe, "I'll break every bone in your body."</p> + +<p>"Not here," said Arnold; "there will be no breaking of bones in this +house."</p> + +<p>Lotty began to laugh.</p> + +<p>"The gentle blood always shows itself, doesn't it?" she said. "I've +got the real instincts of a lady, haven't I? Oh, it was beautiful + <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a>[111]</span> while it lasted. And every day more and more like my father."</p> + +<p>"Arnold," cried poor Clara, crushed, "help me!"</p> + +<p>"Come," said Arnold, "you had better go at once."</p> + +<p>"I won't laugh at you," said Lotty. "It's a shame, and you're a good +old thing. But it did me good, it really did, to hear all about the +gentle blood. Come, Joe. Let us go away quietly."</p> + +<p>She took her husband's arm. Joe was standing sullen and desperate. Mr. +Chalker was right. It wanted very little more to make him fall upon +the whole party, and go off with a fight.</p> + +<p>"Young woman," said Lala Roy, "you had better not go outside the house +with the man. It will be well for you to wait until he has gone."</p> + +<p>"Why? He is my husband, whatever we have done, and I'm not ashamed of +him."</p> + +<p>"Is he your husband? Ask him what I meant when I said his home was at +Shadwell."</p> + +<p>"Come, Lotty," said Joe, with a curious change of manner. "Let us go +at once."</p> + +<p>"Wait," Lala repeated. "Wait, young woman, let him go first. +Pray—pray let him go first."</p> + +<p>"Why should I wait? I go with my husband."</p> + +<p>"I thought to save you from shame. But if you will go with him, ask +him again why his home is at Shadwell, and why he left his wife."</p> + +<p>Lotty sprung upon her husband, and caught his wrists with both hands.</p> + +<p>"Joe, what does he mean? Tell me he is a liar."</p> + +<p>"That would be useless," said Lala Roy. "Because a very few minutes +will prove the contrary. Better, however, that he should go to prison +for marrying two wives than for robbing his grandfather's safe."</p> + +<p>"It's a lie!" Joe repeated, looking as dangerous as a wild boar +brought to bay.</p> + +<p>"There was a Joseph Gallop, formerly assistant purser in the service +of the Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Company," continued +the man of fate, "who married, nine months ago, a certain widow at +Shadwell. He was turned out of the service, and he married her because +she had a prosperous lodging-house."</p> + +<p>"Oh—h!" cried Lotty. "You villain! You thought to live upon my +earnings, did you? You put me up to pretend to be somebody else. Miss +Holland"—she fell upon her knees, literally and simply, and without +any theatrical pretense at all—"forgive me! I am properly punished. +Oh, he is made of lies! He told me that the real Iris was dead and +buried, and he was the rightful heir; and as for you"—she sprung to +her feet and turned upon her husband—"I know it is true. I know it is +true—I can see it within your guilty eyes."</p> + +<p>"If you have any doubt," said Lala, "here is a copy of the +marriage-certificate."</p> + +<p>She took it, read it, and put it in her pocket. Then she went out of +the room without another word, but with rage and revenge in her eyes.</p><p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a>[112]</span> </p> + +<p>Joseph followed her, saying no more. He had lost more than he thought +to lose. But there was still time to escape, and he had most of the +money in his pocket.</p> + +<p>But another surprise awaited him.</p> + +<p>The lady from Shadwell, in fact, was waiting for him outside the door. +With her were a few Shadwell friends, of the seafaring profession, +come to see fair play. It was a disgraceful episode in the history of +Chester Square. After five minutes or so, during which no welsher on a +race-course was ever more hardly used, two policemen interfered to +rescue the man of two wives, and there was a procession all the way to +the police-court, where, after several charges of assault had been +preferred and proved against half a dozen mariners, Joseph was himself +charged with bigamy, both wives giving evidence, and committed for +trial.</p> + +<p>His old friend, Mr. David Chalker, one is sorry to add, refused to +give bail, so that he remained in custody, and will now endure +hardness for a somewhat lengthened period.</p> + +<p>"Clara," said Arnold, "Iris will stay with you, if you ask her. We +shall not marry, my dear, without your permission. I have promised +that already, have I not?"</p> + +<p> </p> +<h4>THE END.</h4> +<p> </p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="A_YACHTSMANS_YARN" id="A_YACHTSMANS_YARN"></a>A YACHTSMAN'S YARN.</h2> +<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a>[9]</span> </p> + + +<p>"I've knocked off the sea now for some years, but I was yachting along +with all sorts of gentlemen and in all sorts of craft, from three to +one hundred and twenty tons, ever since the top of my head was no +higher than your knee; and as boy, man, and master, I'll allow there's +no one who has seen much more than I have. Yet, spite of that, I can +recall but one extraordinary circumstance. Daresay when I've told it +you, you won't believe it; but I sha'n't be able to help that. Truth's +truth, no consequence how sing'lar its appearance may be; and so now +to begin.</p> + +<p>"No matter the port, no matter the yacht's name, no matter her owner's +calling, no matter nothing. Terms and dates and the like shall be +imaginary, and so let the vessel be a schooner of one hundred tons +called the 'Evangeline,' and her owner Mr. Robinson, and me, who was +captain of her, Jacob Williams. This'll furnish a creep you may go on +sweeping with till Doomsday without raising what's dead and gone, +though not forgotten, mind ye, from the bottom. Well, for a whole +fortnight had the 'Evangeline' been moored in a snug berth alongside a +pier wall. The English Channel was wide there, and it didn't need much +sailing to find the Atlantic Ocean. I began to think all cruising was +to come to an end; for Mr. Robinson was a man fond of keeping the sea, +and I had never found a fortnight's lying by to his taste at all. But +matters explained themselves after I'd seen him two or three times +walking about with a very fine-looking female party. Mr. Robinson was +a bachelor, his age I dare say about forty, with handsome whiskers, +and one of those voices that show breeding in a man; ay, and the +humblest ear that hears 'em recognizes them. I didn't take much notice +of <i>her</i>, though I reckoned her large black eyes the beautifullest I +had ever beheld in a female countenance. She seemed young—not more +than eight-and-twenty—with what they call a fine figure, though, +speaking for myself, I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a>[10]</span> never had much opinion of small waists. Give +me <i>bong poine</i>, as my old master, Sir Arthur Jones, used to say; and +he ought to have known, for he had been studying female beauty for +eighty year, and died, I reckon, of it.</p> + +<p>"I considered it to be a case of courting, for she was a lady; there +was no mistaking that; she held her head up like one, and dressed as +real ladies do, expensively but plainly—ay, old Jacob knows; he +didn't go yachting for years for nothing. But it wasn't for me to form +opinions. My berth was an easy one—just a sprawl all day long with a +pipe in my mouth, and a good night's rest to follow; and that was all +it was my duty to think about.</p> + +<p>"Well, one afternoon Mr. Robinson comes aboard alone, and says to me, +'Williams, at what hour will the tide serve to-morrow night?'</p> + +<p>"'Why, sir,' says I, after thinking, 'there'll be plenty of water at +nine o'clock.'</p> + +<p>"'Then,' says he, 'see all ready, Williams, to get away to-morrow at +that hour. We're off to ——,' and he names a Mediterranean port.</p> + +<p>"Right, sir,' says I, though wondering a bit to myself, for the season +was pretty well advanced, and I couldn't have guessed, from what I +knew and had heard of him, that he would have pushed so far south.</p> + +<p>"Well, at half past eight that evening the deck was hailed by a boat +alongside, and up he comes handing a lady on board, thickly veiled, +and they both went below as if they were in a hurry. Some parcels and +a bit of a bandbox or so were chucked up to us by the watermen, who +then shoved off. There was a nice little off-shore breeze a-blowing, +and soon after nine we were clear of the harbor and sailing quietly +along, the sea smooth and the moon rising red out of a smother of +mist. Mr. Robinson came on deck and looked aloft to see what sail was +made; I was at the tiller, and stepping up to me, he says—</p> + +<p>"'What d'yer think of the weather, Williams?'</p> + +<p>"'Why,' says I, 'it seems as if it was going to keep fair.'</p> + +<p>"'There can't come too much wind for me,' says he, 'short of a +hurricane. Don't spare your cloths, let it blow as it may. You +understand that?'</p> + +<p>"'Quite easily,' says I.</p> + +<p>"Now, this order I took to be as singular as our going <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a>[11]</span> to the +Mediterranean, for Mr. Robinson was never a man to carry on; there was +no racing in him; quiet sailing was his pleasure, and what his hurry +was all of a sudden I couldn't imagine, though I guessed that the +party in the cabin might have something to do with it. She came on +deck after we had been under way about three quarters of an hour, this +time without a veil, with what they call a turban hat on her head. +There was plenty of moonlight, and I tell you that the very shadow she +cast, and that lay like a carving of jet on ivory, looked beautiful on +the white deck, so fine her figure was. Lord, how her big eyes +flashed, too, when she drew my way and turned 'em to the moon! Being a +sober, 'spectable man myself, with correct views on the bringing up of +daughters, it seemed to be a queer start that if so be this young lady +was keeping company with Mr. Robinson—being courted by him, you +know—that her mother or some female connection wasn't along with her. +P'raps they were married, I thought; might have been spliced that very +morning. She had no gloves on, and whenever she walked with Mr. +Robinson near to me, I'd take a long squint at her left hand; but +there was no distinguishing a wedding-ring by moonshine, and even had +it been broad daylight it would have been all the same, for the jewels +lay so thick on her fingers you'd have fancied them sparkling with +dew.</p> + +<p>"Well, all that night it blew a soft, quiet wind, but for hours next +day 'twas all dead calm, a light swell, the sunlight coming off the +water hot as steam, and the yacht slewing round and round as if, like +the rest of us, she was trying to find out where the wind meant to +come from next. I never saw any man fret more over a calm than Mr. +Robinson did over that. The lady didn't appear discomposed; she sat +under the awning reading, and once when Mr. Robinson turned to look at +her she ran her shining black eyes with a smiling roll around the sea, +that was just the same as if she had said, 'Isn't it big enough?' for +hang me if even I couldn't read the language in them sparklers of hers +when she chose to lift the eyelashes off their meaning, unaccustomed +as Jacob Williams ever was to female ways and the customs they pursue! +But Mr. Robinson couldn't keep quiet. He kept on asking of me when I +thought the wind was coming, and he was constantly getting up and +staring round, and I'd notice he was always letting his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a>[12]</span> cigar go out, +which is a sure sign that either a man don't care about smoking, or +else he's got something weighing upon his spirits. P'raps, thought I, +it's stipulated that he's not to get married anywhere but in the port +we're bound to, and that the license don't run so long as to allow for +calms; but this I said to myself, with a wink at my own thoughts, for, +though there's a good many things in this 'ere yearth that I don't +understand, I must tell you Jacob Williams wasn't born without a mind.</p> + +<p>"Well, time went on, and then a head-wind sprung up, with a short, +spiteful sea. I kept the yacht under a press, according to orders, and +the driving of her close-hauled, every luff trembling and the foam to +leeward as high as the rail, fairly smothered the vessel forward; +whilst as to her movements, it was dreary and aching enough, I can +tell you, the wind sweeping out of clouds of spray forward and +splitting with shrieks upon the ropes, and the canvas soaking up the +damp till every stretch might have been owned for the matter of color +by a coalman. 'Twas 'bout ship often enough, Mr. Robinson being full +of anxiety and impatience, and watching the compass for a shift of +wind as if he was a cat and there was a mouse in the binnacle. I could +have sworn the handsome party would have been beam-ended by the dance; +it turned the stomachs of two of the crew, anyhow, and one of them +said that if he had known the 'Evangeline' was to cross the bay, he'd +have found another ship; yet the lady took no notice of the weather. +She'd come up dressed in waterproofs, and her beautiful face shining +with the big eyes in it out of a hood; and the more the sea troubled +the schooner, the more the vessel labored and showed herself uneasy, +the more the lady would look pleased, laughing out at times, with +plenty of music in her voice, I allow, but with a something in it and +in the gleaming stare she'd keep on the plunging and streaming bows, +that made me calculate—don't know why, I'm sure—that lovely as she +was and beautiful as she was shaped, there was no more heart inside of +her than there's pearls in cockles.</p> + +<p>"Well, we had two days of this, passing a good many vessels; both +steam and sail, that were getting all they could out of what was +baffling us; then there was a shift of wind; it fell light, everything +turned dry, and we went along with all cloths showing, sailing about +five knots—not <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a>[13]</span> more, and I don't think less. When the change of +weather came Mr. Robinson looked more cheerful. Seemed happier, he +did, and I overheard him say to the party as they stood looking over +the starn at the wake that ran away in two white lines with a gull, or +two circling within a stone's throw in waiting for whatever the cook +had to heave overboard—I heard him say:</p> + +<p>"'Every mile'll make it more difficult; besides,' says he, with a +sweep of his hand, 'what a waste this is! Williams,' he sings out to +me, 'how fur off's the horizon?'</p> + +<p>"'Why,' I answered, 'from this height I should say a matter of six +mile and a half.'"</p> + +<p>'And how fur distant, Captain Williams,' says the lady, smiling +sweetly, and pretty nigh confusing my brains by the beautiful look she +gave me, 'would a vessel like ours be seen?'</p> + +<p>"I took time to think, with a squint at our mastheads—for we carried +long sticks—and said, 'Well, call it twelve mile, mum. It's +impossible to speak to a nicety.'</p> + +<p>"'And what,' I heard Mr. Robinson observe, as I turned away, 'is +twelve miles in this here watery wilderness of leagues?'</p> + +<p>"'And then she gave a laugh, as if some one had made her feel glad; +and it was all like music and poetry, I can tell you, her laughing, +and his softness, and the water smooth, and the yacht sailing along as +if she enjoyed it, like a hard-worked vessel out for a holiday.</p> + +<p>"Time passed till it come on four o'clock on the afternoon of that +day. There was a redness in the western heavens that betokened more +wind, though the sun still stood high. Meanwhile the breeze hung +steady. There was the smoke of a steamer away on our starboard +quarter, and there was nothing else in sight. I took no notice of it, +for smoke's not uncommon nowadays on the ocean; but whatever the +vessel might be, the glances I'd take at her now and again made me see +she was driving through it properly; for three-quarters of an hour +after we had sighted it, the smoke was abeam, and the funnel raised +up, showing that her course was something to the eastward of ours. I +pointed the glass at her, and made out a yellow chimney and +pole-masts—hull still below the horizon.</p> + +<p>"'Either a yacht, sir, or a Government dispatch boat—something <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a>[14]</span> of +that kind, sir,' says I to Mr. Robinson, who was sitting near me with +the lady.</p> + +<p>"He jumped up and took a look, and whilst he was working away with the +telescope, the breeze comes along right out of the red sky abeam where +the steamer was, with twice its former strength, roughening the blue +water into hollows, and bowing down the yacht till the slope of her +deck was like a roof. The crew jumped about shortening canvas, and the +yacht began to snore as she felt the wind. On a sudden, and as if the +steamer had only just then spied us, she altered her course by three +or four points, as one could see by the swift rising of her hull, +till, whilst the sun was still hanging a middling height over the sea +line, you could see the whole of the vessel—a long, low craft of +about one hundred and fifty tons—sweeping through the seas like an +arrow, the smoke streaming black and fat from her small, yellow +funnel, and her hull sinking out of sight one moment and reappearing +the next in a sort of jump of the whole foaming wash, as if, by Jove, +her screw would thrust her clean out of the water.</p> + +<p>"The lady looked at her with a sort of indifference; but Mr. Robinson +was pale enough as he handed me the glass, and said, 'Williams, see if +you know her.'</p> + +<p>"I took a look at her, and answered, 'It's hard to tell those steamers +till you see their names, sir; but if she's not the Violet, +belonging to General Coldsteel (of course these are false names), +she's uncommonly like her. But, law bless us! how they're driving +her! Why, there'll be a bust up if they don't look out. They'll blow +the boilers out of her!'"</p> + +<p>'Indeed, I never before saw any vessel rush so. She'd shear clear +through some of the larger seas, and you didn't need watch her long to +make you reckon you'd seen the last of her. Then Mr. Robinson, talking +like a man half in a rage, half in a fright, orders me to pack sail on +the schooner; but it was already blowing a single-reef breeze, and I +had no idea of losing our spars, and so I told him very firmly that +the yacht had all she needed, and that more would only stop her by +burying her: and I had my way. But we were foaming through it, too; we +wanted no more pressure; the freshening wind had worked the schooner +into a fair nine knots, and it was first-rate sailing too, considering +the character of the sea and the weight of the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a>[15]</span> breeze. 'Twas now +certain beyond all question that the steamer meant to close us, though +I thought she had a queer way of doing it, for sometimes she'd head +right at us, and then put her helm down and keep on a course parallel +with ours, forging well ahead and then shifting the helm for a fresh +run at us. There was no anxiety that I could see in the lady's looks, +but Mr. Robinson was quite mightily bothered and worried and pale +enough to make me suppose that all this meant a pursuit, with a +capture to follow; and it was certain that whatever intentions the +steamer had, there was nothing in the night which was approaching to +promise us a chance of sneaking clear, for the sky was pure as glass, +and it wouldn't be long after sundown before the moon would be filling +the air with a light like morning.</p> + +<p>Well, sir, fathom by fathom the steamer had her way of us. She had +drawn close enough to let Mr. Robinson make out the people abroad. As +for me, I was at the helm; for there was something in the maneuvering +of the steamer that made me suspicious, and I wasn't going to trust +any man but myself at the tiller. We held on as we were; we couldn't +improve the schooner's speed by bringing the wind anywhere else than +where it was; and no good was to be done by cracking on, even though +it had, come to our dragging what we couldn't carry; for the steamer's +speed was a fair fourteen if it was a mile, and our yacht was not +going to do that, you know, or anything like it. The moon had arisen, +and the sea ran like heaving snow from the windward, and by this time +the steamer was about half a mile ahead of us, about three points on +the weather bow. She was as plain as if daylight lay on her. All the +time the party and Mr. Robinson had kept the deck, she taking a view +now and then of the steamer with an opera-glass.</p> + +<p>"Suddenly I yelled out, 'Mr. Robinson, by all that's holy, sir, that +vessel there means to run us down! Lads,' I shouted, 'tumble aft +quick, and see the boats all ready for lowering!'</p> + +<p>"The lady jumped up with a scream, and seized hold of Mr. Robinson's +arm, who seeming to forget what he was about, shook her off, and fell +to raving to me to see that the steamer didn't touch us. By thunder, +sir, there was the cowardly brute slanting her flying length as though +to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a>[16]</span> cross our hawse, but clearly aiming to strike us right amidships. +I shouted to the men to make ready and 'bout ship, and a minute after +I shoved the tiller over, and the yacht rounded like a woman waltzing. +But before we had gathered way the steamer was after us. The lady sent +up scream after scream. Mr. Robinson stood motionless, seeing as plain +as I that if the steamer meant to sink us there was no seamanship in +this wide world that could stop her; and I saw the men throwing off +their shoes and half stripping themselves, ready for what was to come.</p> + +<p>"The steamer headed dead to strike our weather-beam; she rushed at us +with the foam boiling over her bows; once more I chucked the schooner +right up into the wind, and the steamer went past us like a rocket +under our stern. I looked at her and sha'n't ever forget what I saw. +There was a white-haired man, with white whiskers and bareheaded, +roaring and raging at us in the grasp of three or four seamen. 'Twas +like a death-struggle. A chap who looked as if he had just seized the +wheel was grinding it hard over to get away from us; and so the +steamer fled past, more like a nightmare than a reality, and in a few +minutes was standing with full speed to the norrard, where, in less +than a quarter of an hour, she faded slick out of sight.</p> + +<p>"It was some time after I had left the 'Evangeline' and was at home +before I got to know the meaning of this here wonderful adventure. The +party, it turned out, was no less than the wife of the general as +owned the 'Violet,' and she was running away with Mr. Robinson. May be +our men had talked about our going to the Mediterranean, but anyhow +the general who was in + London at +the time, got scent that his wife had bolted with Mr. Robinson in the +'Evangeline,' and in less than twenty-four hours he was after us +in his steamer. He tracked us by speaking the vessels we passed; and +the light airs and calms we had encountered easily allowed him to +overhaul quickly. And it turned out that when he had fairly sighted +us, he sent the man at the wheel forward, and took the helm himself. +The crew dursn't express their wonder aloud, though they knew he was +no hand at steering, not to mention the mad agitation he was in, and +they let him have his way when he headed the steamer for us, expecting +that he merely wished to close us in order to speak; but when I put my +helm <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a>[17]</span> down and the steamer passed, and they spied the general rounding +his craft evidently to run us down, they threw themselves upon him to +save their own lives as well as ours. That was the sight I saw as the +steamer rushed past. A few moments after they had gone clear the poor +old fellow was seized with an attack of apoplexy, which killed him +right off, and thereupon they headed right away to England with the +dead body aboard.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of this for a yarn? Would any one suppose such +vengefulness could exist in a white-haired man that had known his +seventieth birthday? What did he want to go and try and drown me and +my mates for? <i>We</i> weren't running away with the female party. But the +world's full of romantic capering, sir; and I tell you what it +is—'tain't all fair sailing even in yachts, modest and pretty as the +divarsion is."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of In Luck at Last, by Walter Besant + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN LUCK AT LAST *** + +***** This file should be named 16129-h.htm or 16129-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/1/2/16129/ + +Produced by Bill Tozier, Barbara Tozier, Sankar Viswanathan +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: In Luck at Last + +Author: Walter Besant + +Release Date: June 25, 2005 [EBook #16129] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN LUCK AT LAST *** + + + + +Produced by Bill Tozier, Barbara Tozier, Sankar Viswanathan +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + + IN LUCK AT LAST. + + + + + BY WALTER BESANT. + + + + + + + NEW YORK: + GEORGE MUNRO'S SONS, PUBLISHERS, + 17 TO 27 VANDEWATER STREET. + + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +WITHIN THREE WEEKS + + +If everyone were allowed beforehand to choose and select for himself +the most pleasant method of performing this earthly pilgrimage, there +would be, I have always thought, an immediate run upon that way of +getting to the Delectable Mountains which is known as the Craft and +Mystery of Second-hand Bookselling. If, further, one were allowed to +select and arrange the minor details--such, for instance, as the +"pitch" and the character of the shop, it would seem desirable that, +as regards the latter, the kind of bookselling should be neither too +lofty nor too mean--that is to say, that one's ambition would not +aspire to a great collector's establishment, such as one or two we +might name in Piccadilly, the Haymarket, or New Bond Street; these +should be left to those who greatly dare and are prepared to play the +games of Speculation and of Patience; nor, on the other hand, would +one choose an open cart at the beginning of the Whitechapel Road, or +one of the shops in Seven Dials, whose stock-in-trade consists wholly +of three or four boxes outside the door filled with odd volumes at +twopence apiece. As for "pitch" or situation, one would wish it to be +somewhat retired, but not too much; one would not, for instance, +willingly be thrown away in Hoxton, nor would one languish in the +obscurity of Kentish Town; a second-hand bookseller must not be so far +removed from the haunts of men as to place him practically beyond the +reach of the collector; nor, on the other hand, should he be planted +in a busy thoroughfare--the noise of many vehicles, the hurry of quick +footsteps, the swift current of anxious humanity are out of harmony +with the atmosphere of a second-hand bookshop. Some suggestion of +external repose is absolutely necessary; there must be some stillness +in the air; yet the thing itself belongs essentially to the city--no +one can imagine a second-hand bookshop beside green fields--so that +there should be some murmur and perceptible hum of mankind always +present in the ear. Thus there are half-a-dozen bookshops in King +William Street, Strand, which seem to enjoy every possible advantage +of position, for they are in the very heart of London, but yet are not +exposed to the full noise and tumult of that overflowing tide which +surges round Charing Cross. Again, there are streets north of Holborn +and Oxford Street most pleasantly situated for the second-hand +bookseller, and there are streets where he ought not to be, where he +has no business, and where his presence jars. Could we, for instance, +endure to see the shop of a second-hand bookseller established in +Cheapside? + +Perhaps, however, the most delightful spot in all London for a +second-hand bookshop is that occupied by Emblem's in the King's Road, +Chelsea. + +It stands at the lower end of the road, where one begins to realize +and thoroughly feel the influences of that ancient and lordly suburb. +At this end of the road there are rows of houses with old-fashioned +balconies; right and left of it there are streets which in the summer +and early autumn are green, yellow, red, and golden with their masses +of creepers; squares which look as if, with the people living in them, +they must belong to the year eighteen hundred; neither a day before +nor a day after; they lie open to the road, with their gardens full of +trees. Cheyne Walk and the old church, with its red-brick tower, and +the new Embankment, are all so close that they seem part and parcel of +the King's Road. The great Hospital is within five minutes' walk, and +sometimes the honest veterans themselves may be seen wandering in the +road. The air is heavy with associations and memories. You can +actually smell the fragrance of the new-made Chelsea buns, fresh from +the oven, just as you would a hundred years ago. You may sit with +dainty damsels, all hoops and furbelows, eating custards at the +Bun-house; you may wander among the rare plants of the Botanic +Gardens. The old great houses rise, shadowy and magnificent, above the +modern terraces; Don Saltero's Coffee-House yet opens its hospitable +doors; Sir Thomas More meditates again on Cheyne Walk; at dead of +night the ghosts of ancient minuet tunes may be heard from the Rotunda +of Ranelagh Gardens, though the new barracks stand upon its site; and +along the modern streets you may fancy that if you saw the ladies with +their hoop petticoats, and the gentlemen with their wigs and their +three-cornered hats and swords, you would not be in the least +astonished. + +Emblem's is one of two or three shops which stand together, but it +differs from its neighbors in many important particulars. For it has +no plate-glass, as the others have; nor does it stand like them with +open doors; nor does it flare away gas at night; nor is it bright with +gilding and fresh paint; nor does it seek to attract notice by posters +and bills. On the contrary, it retains the old, small, and +unpretending panes of glass which it has always had; in the evening it +is dimly lighted, and it closes early; its door is always shut, and +although the name over the shop is dingy, one feels that a coat of +paint, while it would certainly freshen up the place, would take +something from its character. For a second-hand bookseller who +respects himself must present an exterior which has something of faded +splendor, of worn paint and shabbiness. Within the shop, books line +the walls and cumber the floor. There are an outer and an inner shop; +in the former a small table stands among the books, at which Mr. +James, the assistant, is always at work cataloguing, when he is not +tying up parcels; sometimes even with gum and paste repairing the +slighter ravages of time--foxed bindings and close-cut margins no man +can repair. In the latter, which is Mr. Emblem's sanctum, there are +chairs and a table, also covered with books, a writing-desk, a small +safe, and a glass case, wherein are secured the more costly books in +stock. Emblem's, as must be confessed, is no longer quite what it was +in former days; twenty, thirty, or forty years ago that glass case was +filled with precious treasures. In those days, if a man wanted a book +of county history, or of genealogy, or of heraldry, he knew where was +his best chance of finding it, for Emblem's, in its prime and heyday, +had its specialty. Other books treating on more frivolous subjects, +such as science, belles lettres, art, or politics, he would consider, +buy, and sell again; but he took little pride in them. Collectors of +county histories, however, and genealogy-hunters and their kind, knew +that at Emblem's, where they would be most likely to get what they +wanted, they would have to pay the market price for it. + +There is no patience like the patience of a book-collector; there is +no such industry given to any work comparable with the thoughtful and +anxious industry with which he peruses the latest catalogues; there is +no care like unto that which rends his mind before the day of auction +or while he is still trying to pick up a bargain; there are no eyes so +sharp as those which pry into the contents of a box full of old books, +tumbled together, at sixpence apiece. The bookseller himself partakes +of the noble enthusiasm of the collector, though he sells his +collection; like the amateur, the professional moves heaven and earth +to get a bargain: like him, he rejoices as much over a book which has +been picked up below its price, as over a lost sheep which has +returned into the fold. But Emblem is now old, and Emblem's shop is no +longer what it was to the collector of the last generation. + +It was an afternoon in late September, and in this very year of grace, +eighteen hundred and eighty-four. The day was as sunny and warm as any +of the days of its predecessor Augustus the Gorgeous, but yet there +was an autumnal feeling in the air which made itself felt even in +streets where there were no red and yellow Virginia creepers, no +square gardens with long trails of mignonette and banks of flowering +nasturtiums. In fact, you cannot anywhere escape the autumnal feeling, +which begins about the middle of September. It makes old people think +with sadness that the grasshopper is a burden in the land, and that +the almond-tree is about to flourish; but the young it fills with a +vinous and intoxicated rejoicing, as if the time of feasting, fruits, +harvests, and young wine, strong and fruity, was upon the world. It +made Mr. James--his surname has never been ascertained, but man and +boy, Mr. James has been at Emblem's for twenty-five years and +more--leave his table where he was preparing the forthcoming +catalogue, and go to the open door, where he wasted a good minute and +a half in gazing up at the clear sky and down the sunny street. Then +he stretched his arms and returned to his work, impelled by the sense +of duty rather than by the scourge of necessity, because there was no +hurry about the catalogue and most of the books in it were rubbish, +and at that season of the year few customers could be expected, and +there were no parcels to tie up and send out. He went back to his +work, therefore, but he left the door partly open in order to enjoy +the sight of the warm sunshine. Now for Emblem's to have its door +open, was much as if Mr. Emblem himself should so far forget his +self-respect as to sit in his shirt-sleeves. The shop had been rather +dark, the window being full of books, but now through the open door +there poured a little stream of sunshine, reflected from some far off +window. It fell upon a row of old eighteenth century volumes, bound in +dark and rusty leather, and did so light up and glorify the dingy +bindings and faded gold, that they seemed fresh from the binder's +hands, and just ready for the noble purchaser, long since dead and +gone, whose book plate they bore. Some of this golden stream fell also +upon the head of the assistant--it was a red head, with fiery red +eyes, red eyebrows, bristly and thick, and sharp thin features to +match--and it gave him the look of one who is dragged unwillingly into +the sunlight. However, Mr. James took no notice of the sunshine, and +went on with his cataloguing almost as if he liked that kind of work. +There are many people who seem to like dull work, and they would not +be a bit more unhappy if they were made to take the place of Sisyphus, +or transformed into the damsels who are condemned to toil continually +at the weary work of pouring water into a sieve. Perhaps Sisyphus does +not so much mind the continual going up and down hill. "After all," he +might say, "this is better than the lot of poor Ixion. At all events, +I have got my limbs free." Ixion, on the other hand, no doubt, is full +of pity for his poor friend Sisyphus. "I, at least," he says, "have no +work to do. And the rapid motion of the wheel is in sultry weather +sometimes pleasant." + +Behind the shop, where had been originally the "back parlor," in the +days when every genteel house in Chelsea had both its front and back +parlor--the latter for sitting and living in, the former for the +reception of company--sat this afternoon the proprietor, the man whose +name had stood above the shop for fifty years, the original and only +Emblem. He was--nay, he is--for you may still find him in his place, +and may make his acquaintance over a county history any day in the +King's Road--he is an old man now, advanced in the seventies, who was +born before the battle of Waterloo was fought, and can remember +Chelsea when it was full of veterans wounded in battles fought long +before the Corsican Attila was let loose upon the world. His face +wears the peaceful and wise expression which belongs peculiarly to his +profession. Other callings make a man look peaceful, but not all other +callings make him look wise. Mr. Emblem was born by nature of a calm +temperament,--otherwise he would not have been happy in his business; +a smile lies generally upon his lips, and his eyes are soft and +benign; his hair is white, and his face, once ruddy, is pale, yet not +shrunk and seamed with furrows as happens to so many old men, but +round and firm; like his chin and lips it is clean shaven; he wears a +black coat extraordinarily shiny in the sleeve, and a black silk stock +just as he used to wear in the thirties when he was young, and +something of a dandy, and would show himself on a Saturday evening in +the pit of Drury Lane; and the stock is fastened behind with a silver +buckle. He is, in fact, a delightful old gentleman to look at and +pleasant to converse with, and on his brow every one who can read may +see, visibly stamped, the seal of a harmless and honest life. At the +contemplation of such a man, one's opinion of humanity is sensibly +raised, and even house-agents, plumbers, and suburban builders, feel +that, after all, virtue may bring with, it some reward. + +The quiet and warmth of the afternoon, unbroken to his accustomed ear, +as it would be to a stranger, by the murmurous roll of London, made +him sleepy. In his hand he held a letter which he had been reading for +the hundredth time, and of which he knew by heart every word; and as +his eyes closed he went back in imagination to a passage in the past +which it recalled. + +He stood, in imagination, upon the deck of a sailing-ship--an emigrant +ship. The year was eighteen hundred and sixty-four, a year when very +few were tempted to try their fortunes in a country torn by civil war. +With him were his daughter and his son-in-law, and they were come to +bid the latter farewell. + +"My dear--my dear," cried the wife, in her husband's arms, "come what +may, I will join you in a year." + +Her husband shook his head sadly. + +"They do not want me here," he said; "the work goes into stronger and +rougher hands. Perhaps over there we may get on better, and besides, +it seems an opening." + +If the kind of work which he wanted was given to stronger and rougher +hands than his in England, far more would it be the case in young and +rough America. It was journalistic work--writing work--that he wanted; +and he was a gentleman, a scholar, and a creature of retired and +refined tastes and manners. There are, perhaps, some still living who +have survived the tempestuous life of the ordinary Fleet Street +"newspaper man" of twenty or thirty years ago; perhaps one or two +among these remember Claude Aglen--but he was so short a time with +them that it is not likely; those who do remember him will understand +that the way to success, rough and thorny for all, for such as Aglen +was impossible. + +"But you will think every day of little Iris?" said his wife. "Oh, my +dear, if I were only going with you! And but for me you would be at +home with your father, well and happy." + +Then in his dream, which was also a memory, the old man saw how the +young husband kissed and comforted his wife. + +"My dear," said Claude, "if it were not for you, what happiness could +I have in the world? Courage, my wife, courage and hope. I shall think +of you and Iris all day and all night until we meet again." + +And so they parted and the ship sailed away. + +The old man opened his eyes and looked about him. It was a dream. + +"It was twenty years ago," he said, "and Iris was a baby in arms. +Twenty years ago, and he never saw his wife again. Never again! +Because she died," he added after a pause; "my Alice died." + +He shed no tears, being so old that the time of tears was well-nigh +past--at seventy-five the eyes are drier than at forty, and one is no +longer surprised or disappointed, and seldom even angry, whatever +happens. + +But he opened the letter in his hand and read it again mechanically. +It was written on thin foreign paper, and the creases of the folds had +become gaping rents. It was dated September, 1866, just eighteen years +back. + +"When you read these lines," the letter said, "I shall be in the +silent land, whither Alice, my wife, has gone before me. It would be a +strange thing only to think upon this journey which lies before me, +and which I must take alone, had I time left for thinking. But I have +not. I may last a week, or I may die in a few hours. Therefore, to the +point. + +"In one small thing we deceived you, Alice and I--my name is not Aglen +at all; we took that name for certain reasons. Perhaps we were wrong, +but we thought that as we were quite poor, and likely to remain poor, +it would be well to keep our secret to ourselves. Forgive us both this +suppression of the truth. We were made poor by our own voluntary act +and deed, and because I married the only woman I loved. + +"I was engaged to a girl whom I did not love. We had been brought up +like brother and sister together, but I did not love her, though I was +engaged to her. In breaking this engagement I angered my father. In +marrying Alice I angered him still more. + +"I now know that he has forgiven me; he forgave me on his death-bed; +he revoked his former will and made me his sole heir--just as if +nothing had happened to destroy his old affection--subject to one +condition--viz., that the girl to whom I was first engaged should +receive the whole income until I, or my heirs, should return to +England in order to claim the inheritance. + +"It is strange. I die in a wooden shanty, in a little Western town, +the editor of a miserable little country paper. I have not money +enough even to bury me, and yet, if I were at home, I might be called +a rich man, as men go. My little Iris will be an heiress. At the very +moment when I learn that I am my father's heir, I am struck down by +fever; and now I know that I shall never get up again. + +"It is strange. Yet my father sent me his forgiveness, and my wife is +dead, and the wealth that has come is useless to me. Wherefore, +nothing now matters much to me, and I know that you will hold my last +wishes sacred. + +"I desire that Iris shall be educated as well and thoroughly as you +can afford; keep her free from rough and rude companions; make her +understand that her father was a gentleman of ancient family; this +knowledge will, perhaps, help to give her self-respect. If any +misfortune should fall upon you, such as the loss of health or wealth, +give the papers inclosed to a trustworthy solicitor, and bid him act +as is best in the interests of Iris. If, as I hope, all will go well +with you, do not open the papers until my child's twenty-first +birthday; do not let her know until then that she is going to be rich; +on her twenty-first birthday, open the papers and bid her claim her +own. + +"To the woman I wronged--I know not whether she has married or +not--bid Iris carry my last message of sorrow at what has happened. I +do not regret, and I have never regretted, that I married Alice. But, +I gave her pain, for which I have never ceased to grieve. I have been +punished for this breach of faith. You will find among the papers an +account of all the circumstances connected with this engagement. There +is also in the packet my portrait, taken when I was a lad of sixteen; +give her that as well; there is the certificate of my marriage, my +register of baptism, that of Iris's baptism, my signet ring--" "His +arms"--the old man interrupted his reading--"his arms were: quarterly: +first and fourth, two roses and a boar's head, erect; second and +third, gules and fesse between--between--but I cannot remember what it +was between--" He went on reading: "My father's last letter to me; +Alice's letters, and one or two from yourself. If Iris should +unhappily die before her twenty-first birthday, open these papers, +find out from them the owner's name and address, seek her out, and +tell her that she will never now be disturbed by any claimants to the +estate." + +The letter ended here abruptly, as if the writer had designed to add +more, but was prevented by death. + +For there was a postscript, in another hand, which stated: "Mr. Aglen +died November 25th, 1866, and is buried in the cemetery of Johnson +City, Ill." + +The old man folded the letter carefully, and laid it on the table. +Then he rose and walked across the room to the safe, which stood with +open door in the corner furthest from the fireplace. Among its +contents was a packet sealed and tied up in red tape, endorsed: "For +Iris. To be given to her on her twenty-first birthday. From her +father." + +"It will be her twenty-first birthday," he said, "in three weeks. Then +I must give her the packet. So--so--with the portrait of her father, +and his marriage-certificate." He fell into a fit of musing, with the +papers in his hand. "She will be safe, whatever happens to me; and as +for me, if I lose her--of course I shall lose her. Why, what will it +matter? Have I not lost all, except Iris? One must not be selfish. Oh, +Iris, what a surprise--what a surprise I have in store for you!" + +He placed the letter he had been reading within the tape which +fastened the bundle, so that it should form a part of the +communication to be made on Iris's birthday. + +"There," he said, "now I shall read this letter no more. I wonder how +many times I have read it in the last eighteen years, and how often I +have wondered what the child's fortune would be? In three weeks--in +three short weeks. Oh, Iris, if you only knew!" + +He put back the letters and the packet, locked the safe, and resumed +his seat. + +The red-eyed assistant, still gumming and pasting his slips with +punctilious regard to duty, had been following his master's movements +with curiosity. + +"Counting his investments again as usual," Mr. James murmured. "Ah! +and adding 'em up! Always at it. Oh, what a trade it must have been +once!" + +Just then there appeared in the door a gentleman. He was quite shabby, +and even ragged in his dress, but he was clearly a gentleman. He was +no longer young; his shoulders were bent, and he had the unmistakable +stamp and carriage of a student. + +"Guv'nor's at home," said the assistant briefly. + +The visitor walked into the sanctum. He had under his arm half-a-dozen +volumes, which, without a word, he laid before Mr. Emblem, and untied +the string. + +"You ought to know this book," he said without further introduction. + +Mr. Emblem looked doubtfully at the visitor. + +"You sold it to me twenty-five years ago," he went on, "for five +pounds." + +"I did. And I remember now. You are Mr. Frank Farrar. Why, it is +twenty-five years ago!" + +"I have bought no more books for twenty years and more," he replied. + +"Sad--sad! Dear me--tut, tut!--bought no books? And you, Mr. Farrar, +once my best customer. And now--you do not mean to say that you are +going to sell--that you actually want to sell--this precious book?" + +"I am selling, one by one, all my books," replied the other with a +sigh. "I am going down hill, Emblem, fast." + +"Oh, dear, dear!" replied the bookseller. "This is very sad. One +cannot bear to think of the libraries being dispersed and sold off. +And now yours, Mr. Farrar? Really, yours? Must it be?" + +"'Needs must,'" Mr. Farrar said with a sickly smile, "needs must when +the devil drives. I have parted with half my books already. But I +thought you might like to have this set, because they were once your +own." + +"So I should"--Mr. Emblem laid a loving hand upon the volumes--"so I +should, Mr. Farrar, but not from you; not from you, sir. Why, you were +almost my best customer--I think almost my very best--thirty years +ago, when my trade was better than it is now. Yes, you gave me five +pounds--or was it five pounds ten?--for this very work. And it is +worth twelve pounds now--I assure you it is worth twelve pounds, if it +is worth a penny." + +"Will you give me ten pounds for it, then?" cried the other eagerly; +"I want the money badly." + +"No, I can't; but I will send you to a man who can and will. I do not +speculate now; I never go to auctions. I am old, you see. Besides, I +am poor. I will not buy your book, but I will send you to a man who +will give you ten pounds for it, I am sure, and then he will sell it +for fifteen." He wrote the address on a slip of paper. "Why, Mr. +Farrar, if an old friend, so to speak, can put the question, why in +the world--" + +"The most natural thing," replied Mr. Farrar with a cold laugh; "I am +old, as I told you, and the younger men get all the work. That is all. +Nobody wants a genealogist and antiquary." + +"Dear me, dear me! Why, Mr. Farrar, I remember now; you used to know +my poor son-in-law, who is dead eighteen years since. I was just +reading the last letter he ever wrote to me, just before he died. You +used to come here and sit with him in the evening. I remember now. So +you did." + +"Thank you for your good will," said Mr. Farrar. "Yes, I remember your +son-in-law. I knew him before his marriage." + +"Did you? Before his marriage? Then--" He was going to add, "Then you +can tell me his real name," but he paused, because it is a pity ever +to acknowledge ignorance, and especially ignorance in such elementary +matters as your son-in-law's name. + +So Mr. Emblem checked himself. + +"He ought to have been a rich man," Mr. Farrar continued; "but he +quarreled with his father, who cut him off with a shilling, I +suppose." + +Then the poor scholar, who could find no market for his learned +papers, tied up his books again and went away with hanging head. + +"Ugh!" Mr. James, who had been listening, groaned as Mr. Farrar passed +through the door. "Ugh! Call that a way of doing business? Why, if it +had been me, I'd have bought the book off of that old chap for a +couple o' pounds, I would. Ay, or a sov, so seedy he is, and wants +money so bad. And I know who'd have given twelve pound for it, in the +trade too. Call that carrying on business? He may well add up his +investments every day, it he can afford to chuck such chances. Ah, but +he'll retire soon." His fiery eyes brightened, and his face glowed +with the joy of anticipation. "He must retire before long." + +There came another visitor. This time it was a lanky boy, with, a blue +bag over his shoulder and a notebook and pencil-stump in his hand. He +nodded to the assistant as to an old friend with whom one may be at +ease, set down his bag, opened his notebook, and nibbled his stump. +Then he read aloud, with a comma or semicolon between each, a dozen or +twenty titles. They were the names of the books which his employer +wished to pick up. The red-eyed assistant listened, and shook his +head. Then the boy, without another word, shouldered his bag and +departed, on his way to the next second-hand book-shop. + +He was followed, at a decent interval, by another caller. This time it +was an old gentleman who opened the door, put in his head, and looked +about him with a quick and suspicious glance. At sight of the +assistant he nodded and smiled in the most friendly way possible, and +came in. + +"Good-morning, Mr. James; good-morning, my friend. Splendid weather. +Pray don't disturb yourself. I am just having a look round--only a +look round, you know. Don't move, Mr. James." + +He addressed Mr. James, but he was looking at the shelves as he spoke, +and, with the habit of a book-hunter, taking down the volumes, looking +at the title-pages and replacing them; under his arm he carried a +single volume in old leather binding. + +Mr. James nodded his head, but did disturb himself; in fact, he rose +with a scowl upon his face, and followed this polite old gentlemen all +round the shop, placing himself close to his elbow. One might almost +suppose that he suspected him, so close and assiduous was his +assistance. But the visitor, accepting these attentions as if they +were customary, and the result of high breeding, went slowly round the +shelves, taking down book after book, but buying none. Presently he +smiled again, and said that he must be moving on, and very politely +thanked Mr. James for his kindness. + +"Nowhere," he was so good as to say, "does one get so much personal +kindness and attention as at Emblem's. Good-morning, Mr. James; +good-morning, my friend." + +Mr. James grunted; and closed the door after him. + +"Ugh!" he said with disgust, "I know you; I know your likes. Want to +make your set complete--eh? Want to sneak one of our books to do it +with, don't you? Ah!" He looked into the back shop before he returned +to his paste and his slips. "That was Mr. Potts, the great Queen Anne +collector, sir. Most notorious book-snatcher in all London, and the +most barefaced. Wanted our fourth volume of the 'Athenian Oracle.' I +saw his eyes reached out this way, and that way, and always resting on +that volume. I saw him edging along to the shelf. Got another odd +volume just like it in his wicked old hand, ready to change it when I +wasn't looking." + +"Ah," said Mr. Emblem, waking up from his dream of Iris and her +father's letter; "ah, they will try it on. Keep your eyes open, +James." + +"No thanks, as usual," grumbled Mr. James as he returned to his gum +and his scissors. "Might as well have left him to snatch the book." + +Here, however, James was wrong, because it is the first duty of an +assistant to hinder and obstruct the book-snatcher, who carries on his +work by methods of crafty and fraudulent exchange rather than by plain +theft, which is a mere brutal way. For, first, the book-snatcher marks +his prey; he finds the shop which has a set containing the volume +which is missing in his own set; next, he arms himself with a volume +which closely resembles the one he covets, and then, on pretense of +turning over the leaves, he watches his opportunity to effect an +exchange, and goes away rejoicing, his set complete. No collector, as +is very well known, whether of books, coins, pictures, medals, fans, +scarabs, book-plates, autographs, stamps, or anything else, has any +conscience at all. Anybody can cut out slips and make a catalogue, but +it requires a sharp assistant, with eyes all over his head like a +spider, to be always on guard against this felonious and unscrupulous +collector. + +Next, there came two schoolboys together, who asked for and bought a +crib to "Virgil;" and then a girl who wanted some cheap French +reading-book. Just as the clock began to strike five, Mr. Emblem +lifted his head and looked up. The shop-door opened, and there stepped +in, rubbing his shoes on the mat as if he belonged to the house, an +elderly gentleman of somewhat singular appearance. He wore a fez cap, +but was otherwise dressed as an Englishman--in black frock coat, that +is, buttoned up--except that his feet were incased in black cloth +shoes, so that he went noiselessly. His hair was short and white, and +he wore a small white beard; his skin was a rather dark brown; he was, +in fact, a Hindoo, and his name was Lala Roy. + +He nodded gravely to Mr. James and walked into the back shop. + +"It goes well," he asked, "with the buying and the selling?" + +"Surely, Lala, surely." + +"A quiet way of buying and selling; a way fit for one who meditates," +said the Hindoo, looking round. "Tell me, my friend, what ails the +child? Is she sick?" + +"The child is well, Lala." + +"Her mind wandered this morning. She failed to perceive a simple +method which I tried to teach her. I feared she might be ill." + +"She is not ill, my friend, but I think her mind is troubled." + +"She is a woman. We are men. There is nothing in the world that is +able to trouble the mind of the philosopher." + +"Nothing," said Mr. Emblem manfully, as if he, too, was a disciple. +"Nothing; is there now?" + +The stoutness of the assertion was sensibly impaired by the question. + +"Not poverty, which is a shadow; nor pain, which passes; nor the loss +of woman's love, which is a gain; nor fall from greatness--nothing. +Nevertheless," his eyes did look anxious in spite of his philosophy, +"this trouble of the child--will it soon be over?" + +"I hope this evening," said Mr. Emblem. "Indeed I am sure that it will +be finished this evening." + +"If the child had a mother, or a brother, or any protectors but +ourselves, my friend, we might leave her to them. But she has nobody +except you and me. I am glad that she is not ill." + +He left Mr. Emblem, and passing through the door of communication +between house and shop, went noiselessly up the stairs. + +One more visitor--unusual for so many to call on a September +afternoon. This time it was a youngish man of thirty or so, who +stepped into the shop with an air of business, and, taking no notice +at all of the assistant, walked swiftly into the back shop and shut +the door behind him. + +"I thought so," murmured Mr. James. "After he's been counting up his +investments, his lawyer calls. More investments." + +Mr. David Chalker was a solicitor and, according to his friends, who +were proud of him, a sharp practitioner. He was, in fact, one of those +members of the profession who, starting with no connection, have to +make business for themselves. This, in London, they do by encouraging +the county court, setting neighbors by the ears, lending money in +small sums, fomenting quarrels, charging commissions, and generally +making themselves a blessing and a boon to the district where they +reside. But chiefly Mr. Chalker occupied himself with lending money. + +"Now, Mr. Emblem," he said, not in a menacing tone, but as one who +warns; "now, Mr. Emblem." + +"Now, Mr. Chalker," the bookseller repeated mildly. + +"What are you going to do for me?" + +"I got your usual notice," the old bookseller began, hesitating, "six +months ago." + +"Of course you did. Three fifty is the amount. Three fifty, exactly." + +"Just so. But I am afraid I am not prepared to pay off the bill of +sale. The interest, as usual, will be ready." + +"Of course it will. But this time the principal must be ready too." + +"Can't you get another client to find the money?" + +"No, I can't. Money is tight, and your security, Mr. Emblem, isn't so +good as it was." + +"The furniture is there, and so is the stock." + +"Furniture wears out; as for the stock--who knows what that is worth? +All your books together may not be worth fifty pounds, for what I +know." + +"Then what am I to do?" + +"Find the money yourself. Come, Mr. Emblem, everybody knows--your +grandson himself told me--all the world knows--you've been for years +saving up for your granddaughter. You told Joe only six months +ago--you can't deny it--that whatever happened to you she would be +well off." + +Mr. Emblem did not deny the charge. But he ought not to have told this +to his grandson, of all people in the world. + +"As for Joe," Mr. Chalker went on, "you are going to do nothing for +him. I know that. But is it business like, Mr. Emblem, to waste good +money which you might have invested for your granddaughter?" + +"You do not understand. Mr. Chalker. You really do not, and I cannot +explain. But about this bill of sale--never mind my granddaughter." + +"You the aforesaid Richard Emblem"--Mr. Chalker began to recite, +without commas--"have assigned to me David Chalker aforesaid his +executors administrators and assigns all and singular the several +chattels and things specifically described in the schedule hereto +annexed by way of security for the payment of the sum of three hundred +and fifty pounds and interest thereon at the rate of eight per cent. +per annum." + +"Thank you, Mr. Chalker. I know all that." + +"You can't complain, I'm sure. It is five years since you borrowed the +money." + +"It was fifty pounds and a box of old law books out of your office, +and I signed a bill for a hundred." + +"You forget the circumstances." + +"No, I do not. My grandson was a rogue. One does not readily forget +that circumstance. He was also your friend, I remember." + +"And I held my tongue." + +"I have had no more money from you, and the sum has become three +hundred and fifty." + +"Of course you don't understand law, Mr. Emblem. How should you! But +we lawyers don't work for nothing. However it isn't what you got, but +what I am to get. Come, my good sir, it's cutting off your nose to +spite your face. Settle and have done with it, even if it does take a +little slice off your granddaughter's fortune? Now look here"--his +voice became persuasive--"why not take me into your confidence? Make a +friend of me. You want advice; let me advise you. I can get you good +investments--far better than you know anything of--good and safe +investments--at six certain, and sometimes seven and even eight per +cent. Make me your man of business--come now. As for this trumpery +bill of sale--this trifle of three fifty, what is it to you? +Nothing--nothing. And as for your intention to enrich your +granddaughter, and cut off your grandson with a shilling, why I honor +you for it--there, though he was my friend. For Joe deserves it +thoroughly. I've told him so, mind. You ask him. I've told him so a +dozen times. I've said: 'The old man's right, Joe.' Ask him if I +haven't." + +This was very expansive, but somehow Mr. Emblem did not respond. + +Presently, however, he lifted his head. + +"I have three weeks still." + +"Three weeks still." + +"And if I do not find the money within three weeks?" + +"Why--but of course you will--but if you do not--I suppose there will +be only one thing left to do--realize the security, sell up--sticks +and books and all." + +"Thank you, Mr. Chalker. I will look round me, and--and--do my best. +Good day, Mr. Chalker." + +"The best you can do, Mr. Emblem," returned the solicitor, "is to take +me as your adviser. You trust David Chalker." + +"Thank you. Good-day, Mr. Chalker." + +On his way out, Mr. Chalker stopped for a moment and looked round the +shop. + +"How's business?" he asked the assistant. + +"Dull, sir," replied Mr. James. "He throws it all away, and neglects +his chances. Naturally, being so rich--" + +"So rich, indeed," the solicitor echoed. + +"It will be bad for his successor," Mr. James went on, thinking how +much he should himself like to be that successor. "The goodwill won't +be worth half what it ought to be, and the stock is just falling to +pieces." + +Mr. Chalker looked about him again thoughtfully, and opened his mouth +as if about to ask a question, but said nothing. He remembered, in +time, that the shopman was not likely to know the amount of his +master's capital or investments. + +"There isn't a book even in the glass-case that's worth a five-pound +note," continued Mr. James, whispering, "and he don't look about for +purchases any more. Seems to have lost his pluck." + +Mr. Chalker returned to the back-shop. + +"Within three weeks, Mr. Emblem," he repeated, and then departed. + +Mr. Emblem sat in his chair. He had to find three hundred and fifty +pounds in three weeks. No one knew better than himself that this was +impossible. Within three weeks! But, in three weeks, he would open the +packet of letters, and give Iris her inheritance. At least, she would +not suffer. As for himself--He looked round the little back shop, and +tried to recall the fifty years he had spent there, the books he had +bought and sold, the money which had slipped through his fingers, the +friends who had come and gone. Why, as for the books, he seemed to +remember them every one--his joy in the purchase, his pride in +possession, and his grief at letting them go. All the friends gone +before him, his trade sunk to nothing. + +"Yet," he murmured, "I thought it would last my time." + +But the clock struck six. It was his tea-time. He rose mechanically, +and went upstairs to Iris. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +FOX AND WOLF. + + +Mr. James, left to himself, attempted, in accordance with his daily +custom, to commit a dishonorable action. + +That is to say, he first listened carefully to the retreating +footsteps of his master, as he went up the stairs; then he left his +table, crept stealthily into the back shop, and began to pull the +drawers, turn the handle of the safe, and try the desk. Everything was +carefully locked. Then he turned over all the papers on the table, but +found nothing that contained the information he looked for. It was his +daily practice thus to try the locks, in hope that some day the safe, +or the drawers, or the desk would be left open by accident, when he +might be able to solve a certain problem, the doubt and difficulty of +which sore let and hindered him--namely, of what extent, and where +placed, were those great treasures, savings, and investments which +enabled his master to be careless over his business. It was, further, +customary with him to be thus frustrated and disappointed. Having +briefly, therefore, also in accordance with his usual custom, +expressed his disgust at this want of confidence between master and +man, Mr. James returned to his paste and scissors. + +About a quarter past six the shop door was cautiously opened, and a +head appeared, which looked round stealthily. Seeing nobody about +except Mr. James, the head nodded, and presently followed by its body, +stepped into the shop. + +"Where's the admiral, Foxy?" asked the caller. + +"Guv'nor's upstairs, Mr. Joseph, taking of his tea with Miss Iris," +replied Mr. James, not at all offended by the allusion to his +craftiness. Who should resemble the fox if not the second-hand +bookseller? In no trade, perhaps, can the truly admirable qualities of +that animal--his patience, his subtlety and craft, his pertinacity, +his sagacity--be illustrated more to advantage. Mr. James felt a glow +of virtue--would that he could grow daily and hourly, and more and +more toward the perfect fox. Then, indeed, and not till then would he +be able to live truly up to his second-hand books. + +"Having tea with Iris; well--" + +The speaker looked as if it required some effort to receive this +statement with resignation. + +"He always does at six o'clock. Why shouldn't he?" asked Mr. James. + +"Because, James, he spends the time in cockering up that gal whom he's +ruined and spoiled--him and the old nigger between them--so that her +mind is poisoned against her lawful relations, and nothing will +content her but coming into all the old man's money, instead of going +share and share alike, as a cousin should, and especially a +she-cousin, while there's a biscuit left in the locker and a drop of +rum in the cask." + +"Ah!" said Mr. James with a touch of sympathy, called forth, perhaps, +by mention of the rum, which is a favorite drink with second-hand +booksellers' assistants. + +"Nothing too good for her," the other went on; "the best of education, +pianos to play upon, and nobody good enough for her to know. Not on +visiting terms, if you please, with her neighbors; waiting for +duchesses to call upon her. And what is she, after all? A miserable +teacher!" + +Mr. Joseph Gallop was a young man somewhere between twenty and thirty, +tall, large-limbed, well set-up, and broad-shouldered. A young man +who, at first sight, would seem eminently fitted to push his own +fortunes. Also, at first sight, a remarkably handsome fellow, with +straight, clear-cut features and light, curly hair. When he swung +along the street, his round hat carelessly thrown back, and his +handsome face lit up by the sun, the old women murmured a blessing +upon his comely head--as they used to do, a long time ago, upon the +comely and curly head of Absalom--and the young women looked meaningly +at one another--as was also done in the case of Absalom--and the +object of their admiration knew that they were saying to each other, +in the feminine way, where a look is as good as a whisper, "There goes +a handsome fellow." Those who knew him better, and had looked more +closely into his face, said that his mouth was bad and his eyes +shifty. The same opinion was held by the wiser sort as regards his +character. For, on the one hand, some averred that to their certain +knowledge Joe Gallop had shown himself a monster of ingratitude toward +his grandfather, who had paid his debts and done all kinds of things +for him; on the other hand there were some who thought he had been +badly treated; and some said that no good would ever come of a young +fellow who was never able to remain in the same situation more than a +month or so; and others said that he had certainly been unfortunate, +but that he was a quick and clever young man, who would some day find +the kind of work that suited him, and then he would show everybody of +what stuff he was composed. As for us, we have only to judge of him by +his actions. + +"Perhaps, Mr. Joseph," said Mr. James, "perhaps Miss Iris won't have +all bequeathed to her?" + +"Do you know anything?" Joe asked quickly. "Has he made a new will +lately?" + +"Not that I know of. But Mr. Chalker has been here off and on a good +bit now." + +"Ah! Chalker's a close one, too. Else he'd tell me, his old friend. +Look here, Foxy," he turned a beaming and smiling face upon the +assistant. "If you should see anything or find anything out, tell me, +mind. And, remember, I'll make it worth your while." + +Mr. James looked as it he was asking himself how Joseph could make it +worth his while, seeing that he got nothing more from his grandfather, +and by his own showing never would have anything more. + +"It's only his will I'm anxious to know about; that, and where he's +put away all his money. Think what a dreadful thing it would be for +his heirs if he were to go and die suddenly, and none of us to know +where his investments are. As for the shop, that is already disposed +of, as I dare say you know." + +"Disposed of? The shop disposed of! Oh, Lord!" The assistant turned +pale. "Oh, Mr. Joseph," he asked earnestly, "what will become of the +shop? And who is to have it?" + +"I am to have it," Mr. Joseph replied calmly. This was the lie +absolute, and he invented it very cleverly and at the right moment--a +thing which gives strength and life to a lie, because he already +suspected the truth and guessed the secret hope and ambition which +possesses every ambitious assistant in this trade--namely, to get the +succession. Mr. James looked upon himself as the lawful and rightful +heir to the business. But sometimes he entertained grievous doubts, +and now indeed his heart sunk into his boots. "I am to have it," Joe +repeated. + +"Oh, I didn't know. You are to have it, then? Oh!" + +If Mr. James had been ten years younger, I think he would have burst +into tears. But at the age of forty weeping no longer presents itself +as a form of relief. It is more usual to seek consolation in a swear. +He stammered, however, while he turned pale, and then red, and then +pale again. + +"Yes, quite proper, Mr. Joseph, I'm sure, and a most beautiful +business may be made again here by one who understands the way. Oh, +you are a lucky man, Mr. Joseph. You are indeed, sir, to get such a +noble chance." + +"The shop," Joe went on, "was settled--settled upon me, long ago." The +verb "to settle" is capable of conveying large and vague impressions. +"But after all, what's the good of this place to a sailor?" + +"The good--the good of this place?" Mr. James's cheek flushed. "Why, to +make money, to be sure--to coin money in. If I had this place to +myself--why--why, in two years I would be making as much as two +hundred a year. I would indeed." + +"You want to make money. Bah! That's all you fellows think of. To sit +in the back shop all day long and to sell moldy books! We jolly sailor +boys know better than that, my lad." + +There really was something nautical about the look of the man. He wore +a black-silk tie, in a sailor's running-knot, the ends loose; his +waistcoat was unbuttoned, and his coat was a kind of jacket; not to +speak of his swinging walk and careless pose. In fact, he had been a +sailor; he had made two voyages to India and back as assistant-purser, +or purser's clerk, on board a P. and O. boat, but some disagreement +with his commanding officer concerning negligence, or impudence, or +drink, or laziness--he had been charged in different situations and at +different times with all these vices, either together or +separately--caused him to lose his rating on the ship's books. +However, he brought away from his short nautical experience, and +preserved, a certain nautical swagger, which accorded well with his +appearance, and gave him a swashbuckler air, which made those who knew +him well lament that he had not graced the Elizabethan era, when he +might have become a gallant buccaneer, and so got himself shot through +the head; or that he had not flourished under the reign of good Queen +Anne, when he would probably have turned pirate and been hanged; or +that, being born in the Victorian age, he had not gone to the Far +West, where he would, at least, have had the chance of getting shot in +a gambling-saloon. + +"As for me, when I get the business," he continued, "I shall look +about for some one to carry it on until I am able to sell it for what +it will fetch. Books at a penny apiece all round, I suppose"--James +gasped--"shop furniture thrown in"--James panted--"and the goodwill +for a small lump sum." James wondered how far his own savings, and +what he could borrow, might go toward that lump sum, and how much +might "remain." "My grandfather, as you know, of course, is soon going +to retire from business altogether." This was another lie absolute, as +Mr. Emblem had no intention whatever of retiring. + +"Soon, Mr. Joseph? He has never said a word to me about it." + +"Very soon, now--sooner than you expect. At seventy-five, and with +all his money, why should he go on slaving any longer? Very soon, +indeed. Any day." + +"Mr. Joseph," the assistant positively trembled with eagerness and +apprehension. + +"What is it, James? Did you really think that a man like me was going +to sit in a back shop among these moldy volumes all day? Come, that's +too good. You might have given me credit for being one cut above a +counter, too. I am a gentleman, James, if you please; I am an officer +and a gentleman." + +He then proceeded to explain, in language that smacked something of +the sea, that his ideas soared far above trade, which was, at best, a +contemptible occupation, and quite unworthy of a gentleman, +particularly an officer and a gentleman; and that his personal friends +would never condescend even to formal acquaintance, not to speak of +friendship, with trade. This discourse may be omitted. When one reads +about such a man as Joe Gallop, when we are told how he looked and +what he said and how he said it, with what gestures and in what tone, +we feel as if it would be impossible for the simplest person in the +world to be mistaken as to his real character. My friends, especially +my young friends, so far from the discernment of character being easy, +it is, on the contrary, an art most difficult, and very rarely +attained. Nature's indications are a kind of handwriting the +characters in which are known to few, so that, for instance, the +quick, enquiring glance of an eye, in which one may easily read--who +knows the character--treachery, lying, and deception, just as in the +letter Beth was originally easily discerned the effigies of a house, +may very easily pass unread by the multitude. The language, or rather +the alphabet, is much less complicated than the cuneiform of the Medes +and Persians, yet no one studies it, except women, most of whom are +profoundly skilled in this lore, which makes them so fearfully and +wonderfully wise. Thus it is easy for man to deceive his brother man, +but not his sister woman. Again, most of us are glad to take everybody +on his own statements; there are, or may be, we are all ready to +acknowledge, with sorrow for erring humanity, somewhere else in the +world, such things as pretending, swindling, acting a part, and +cheating, but they do not and cannot belong to our own world. Mr. +James, the assistant, very well knew that Mr. Emblem's grandson had +already, though still young, as bad a record as could be desired by +any; that he had been turned out of one situation after another; that +his grandfather had long since refused to help him any more; that he +was always to be found in the Broad Path which leadeth to destruction. +When he had money he ran down that path as fast as his legs could +carry him; when he had none, he only walked and wished he could run. +But he never left it, and never wished to leave it. Knowing all this, +the man accepted and believed every word of Joe's story. James +believed it, because he hoped it. He listened respectfully to Joe's +declamation on the meanness of trade, and then he rubbed his hands, +and said humbly that he ventured to hope, when the sale of the +business came on, Mr. Joseph would let him have a chance. + +"You?" asked Joe. "I never thought of you. But why not? Why not, I +say? Why not you as well as anybody else?" + +"Nobody but me, Mr. Joseph, knows what the business is, and how it +might be improved; and I could make arrangements for paying by regular +instalments." + +"Well, we'll talk about it when the time comes. I won't forget. +Sailors, you know, can't be expected to understand the value of shops. +Say, James, what does the commodore do all day?" + +"Sits in there and adds up his investments." + +"Always doing that--eh? Always adding 'em up? Ah, and you've never got +a chance of looking over his shoulder, I suppose?" + +"Never." + +"You may find that chance, one of these days. I should like to know, +if only for curiosity, what they are and where they are. He sits in +there and adds 'em up. Yes--I've seen him at it. There must be +thousands by this time." + +"Thousands," said the assistant, in the belief that the more you add +up a sum the larger it grows. + +Joe walked into the back shop and tried the safe. + +"Where are the keys?" he asked. + +"Always in his pocket or on the table before him. He don't leave them +about." + +"Or you'd ha' known pretty sharp all there is to know--eh, my lad? +Well, you're a foxy one, you are, if ever there was one. Let's be +pals, you and me. When the old man goes, you want the shop--well, I +don't see why you shouldn't have the shop. Somebody must have the +shop; and it will be mine to do what I please with. As for his +savings, he says they are all for Iris--well, wills have been set +aside before this. Do you think now, seriously, do you think, James +that the old man is quite right--eh? Don't answer in a hurry. Do you +think, now, that he is quite right in his chump?" + +James laughed. + +"He's right enough, though he throws away his chances." + +"Throws away his chances. How the deuce can he be all right then? Did +you ever hear of a bookseller in his right mind throwing away his +chances?" + +"Why--no--for that matter--" + +"Very well, then; for that matter, don't forget that you've seen him +throw away all his chances--all his chances, you said. You are ready +to swear to that. Most important evidence, that, James." James had not +said "all," but he grunted, and the other man went on: "It may come in +useful, this recollection. Keep your eyes wide-open, my red haired +pirate. As for the moldy old shop, you may consider it as good as your +own. Why, I suppose you'll get somebody else to handle the paste-brush +and the scissors, and tie up the parcels, and water the shop--eh? +You'll be too proud to do that for yourself, you will." + +Mr. James grinned and rubbed his hands. + +"All your own--eh? Well, you'll wake 'em up a bit, won't you?" + +Mr. James grinned again--he continued grinning. + +"Go on, Mr. Joseph," he said; "go on--I like it." + +"Consider the job as settled, then. As for terms they shall be easy; +I'm not a hard man. And--I say, Foxy, about that safe?" + +Mr. James suddenly ceased grinning, because he observed a look in his +patron's eyes which alarmed him. + +"About that safe. You must find out for me where the old man has put +his money, and what it is worth. Do you hear? Or else--" + +"How can I find out? He won't tell me any more than you." + +"Or else you must put me in the way of finding out." Mr. Joseph +lowered his voice to a whisper. "He keeps the keys on the table before +him. When a customer takes him out here, he leaves the keys behind +him. Do you know the key of the safe?" + +"Yes, I know it." + +"What is to prevent a clever, quick-eyed fellow like you, mate, +stepping in with a bit of wax--eh? While he is talking, you know. You +could rush it in a moment." + +"It's--it's dangerous, Mr. Joseph." + +"So it is--rather dangerous--not much. What of that?" + +"I would do anything I could to be of service to you, Mr. Joseph; but +that's not honest, and it's dangerous." + +"Dangerous! There's danger in the briny deep and shipwreck on the +blast, if you come to danger. Do we, therefore, jolly mariners afloat +ever think of that? Never. As to honesty, don't make a man sick." + +"Look here, Mr. Joseph. If you'll give me a promise in writing, that +I'm to have the shop, as soon as you get it, at a fair valuation and +easy terms--say ten per cent down, and--" + +"Stow it, mate; write what you like, and I'll sign it. Now about that +key?" + +"Supposing you was to get a duplicate key, and supposing you was to +get into trouble about it, Mr. Joseph, should you--should you--I only +put it to you--should you up and round upon the man as got you that +key?" + +"Foxy, you are as suspicious as a Chinaman. Well, then, do it this +way. Send it me in a letter, and then who is to know where the letter +came from?" + +The assistant nodded. + +"Then I think I can do the job, though not, perhaps, your way. But I +think I can do it. I won't promise for a day or two." + +"There you spoke like an honest pal and a friendly shipmate. +Dangerous! Of course it is. When the roaring winds do blow--Hands upon +it, brother. Foxy, you've never done a better day's work. You are too +crafty for any sailor--you are, indeed. Here, just for a little key--" + +"Hush, Mr. Joseph! Oh, pray--pray don't talk so loud! You don't know +who may be listening. There's Mr. Lala Roy. You never hear him +coming." + +"Just for a trifle of a key, you are going to get possession of the +best book-shop in all Chelsea. Well, keep your eyes skinned and the +wax ready, will you? And now, James, I'll be off." + +"Oh, I say, Mr. Joseph, wait a moment!" James was beginning to realize +what he had promised. "If anything dreadful should come of this? I +don't know what is in the safe. There may be money as well as papers." + +"James, do you think I would steal? Do you mean to insinuate that I am +a thief, sir? Do you dare to suspect that I would take money?" + +James certainly looked as if he had thought even that possible. + +"I shall open the safe, take out the papers, read them, and put them +back just as I found them. Will that do for you?" + +He shook hands again, and took himself off. + +At seven o'clock Mr. Emblem came down-stairs again. + +"Has any one been?" he asked as usual. + +"Only Mr. Joseph." + +"What might Mr. Joseph want?" + +"Nothing at all." + +"Then," said his grandfather, "Mr. Joseph might just as well have kept +away." + + * * * * * + +Let us anticipate a little. James spent the next day hovering about in +the hope that an opportunity would offer of getting the key in his +possession for a few moments. There was no opportunity. The bunch of +keys lay on the table under the old man's eyes all day, and when he +left the table he carried them with him. But the day afterward he got +his chance. One of the old customers called to talk over past bargains +and former prizes. Mr. Emblem came out of the back shop with his +visitor, and continued talking with him as far as the door. As he +passed the table--James's table--he rested the hand which carried the +keys on it, and left them there. James pounced upon them and slipped +them into his pocket noiselessly. Mr. Emblem returned to his own chair +and thought nothing of the keys for an hour and a half by the clock, +and during this period James was out on business. When Mr. Emblem +remembered his keys, he felt for them in their usual place and missed +them, and then began searching about and cried out to James that he +had lost his bunch of keys. + +"Why, sir," said James, bringing them to him, after a little search, +and with a very red face, "here they are; you must have left them on +my table." + +And in this way the job was done. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +IRIS THE HERALD. + + +By a somewhat remarkable coincidence it was on this very evening that +Iris first made the acquaintance of her pupil, Mr. Arnold Arbuthnot. +These coincidences, I believe, happen oftener in real life than they +do even on the stage, where people are always turning up at the very +nick of time and the critical moment. + +I need little persuasion to make me believe that the first meeting of +Arnold Arbuthnot and Iris, on the very evening when her cousin was +opening matters with the Foxy one, was nothing short of Providential. +You shall see, presently, what things might have happened if they had +not met. The meeting was, in fact, the second of the three really +important events in the life of a girl. The first, which is seldom +remembered with the gratitude which it deserves, is her birth; the +second, the first meeting with her future lover; the third, her +wedding-day; the other events of a woman's life are interesting, +perhaps, but not important. + +Certain circumstances, which will be immediately explained, connected +with this meeting, made it an event of very considerable interest to +Iris, even though she did not suspect its immense importance. So much +interest that she thought of nothing else for a week beforehand; that +as the appointed hour drew near she trembled and grew pale; that when +her grandfather came up for his tea, she, who was usually so quick to +discern the least sign of care or anxiety in his face, actually did +not observe the trouble, plainly written in his drooping head and +anxious eyes, which was due to his interview with Mr. David Chalker. + +She poured out the tea, therefore, without one word of sympathy. This +would have seemed hard if her grandfather had expected any. He did +not, however, because he did not know that the trouble showed in his +face, and was trying to look as if nothing had happened. Yet in his +brain were ringing and resounding the words, "Within three +weeks--within three weeks," with the regularity of a horrid clock at +midnight, when one wants to go to sleep. + +"Oh," cried Iris, forced, as young people always are, to speak of her +own trouble, "oh, grandfather, he is coming to-night." + +"Who is coming to-night, my dear?" and then he listened again for the +ticking of the clock: "Within three weeks--within three weeks." "Who +is coming to-night, my dear?" + +He took the cup of tea from her, and sat down with an old man's +deliberation, which springs less from wisdom and the fullness of +thought that from respect to rheumatism. + +The iteration of that refrain, "Within three weeks," made him forget +everything, even the trouble of his granddaughter's mind. + +"Oh, grandfather, you cannot have forgotten!" + +She spoke with the least possible touch of irritation, because she had +been thinking of this thing for a week past, day and night, and it was +a thing of such stupendous interest to her, that it seemed impossible +that anyone who knew of it could forget what was coming. + +"No, no." The old man was stimulated into immediate recollection by +the disappointment in her eyes. "No, no, my dear, I have not +forgotten. Your pupil is coming. Mr. Arbuthnot is coming. But, Iris, +child, don't let that worry you. I will see him for you, if you like." + +"No; I must see him myself. You see, dear, there is the awful +deception. Oh, how shall I tell him?" + +"No deception at all," he said stoutly. "You advertised in your own +initials. He never asked if the initials belonged to a man or to a +woman. The other pupils do not know. Why should this one? What does it +matter to him if you have done the work for which he engaged your +services?" + +"But, oh, he is so different! And the others, you know, keep to the +subject." + +"So should he, then. Why didn't he?" + +"But he hasn't. And I have been answering him, and he must think that +I was drawing him on to tell me more about himself; and now--oh, what +will he think? I drew him on and on--yet I didn't mean to--till at +last he writes to say that he regards me as the best friend and the +wisest adviser he has ever had. What will he think and say? +Grandfather, it is dreadful!" + +"What did you tell him for, Iris, my dear? Why couldn't you let things +go on? And by telling him you will lose your pupil." + +"Yes, of course; and, worse still, I shall lose his letters. We live +so quietly here that his letters have come to me like news of another +world. How many different worlds are there all round one in London? It +has been pleasant to read of that one in which ladies go about +beautifully dressed always, and where the people have nothing to do +but to amuse themselves. He has told me about this world in which he +lives, and about his own life, so that I know everything he does, and +where he goes; and"--here she sighed heavily--"of course it could not +go on forever; and I should not mind so much if it had not been +carried on under false pretenses." + +"No false pretenses at all, my dear. Don't think it." + +"I sent back his last check," she said, trying to find a little +consolation for herself. "But yet--" + +"Well, Iris," said her grandfather, "he wanted to learn heraldry, and +you have taught him." + +"For the last three months"--the girl blushed as if she was confessing +her sins--"for the last three months there has not been a single word +in his letters about heraldry. He tells me that he writes because he +is idle, or because he wants to talk, or because he is alone in his +studio, or because he wants his unknown friend's advice. I am his +unknown friend, and I have been giving him advice." + +"And very good advice, too," said her grandfather benevolently. "Who +is so wise as my Iris?" + +"I have answered all his letters, and never once told him that I am +only a girl." + +"I am glad you did not tell him, Iris," said her grandfather; but he +did not say why he was glad. "And why can't he go on writing his +letters without making any fuss?" + +"Because he says he must make the acquaintance of the man--the man, he +says--with whom he has been in correspondence so long. This is what he +says." + +She opened a letter which lay upon a table covered with papers, but +her grandfather stopped her. + +"Well, my dear, I do not want to know what he says. He wishes to make +your acquaintance. Very good, then. You are going to see him, and to +tell him who you are. That is enough. But as for deceiving"--he +paused, trying to understand this extreme scrupulosity of +conscience--"if you come to deceiving--well, in a kind sort of a way +you did allow him to think his correspondent a man. I admit that. What +harm is done to him? None. He won't be so mean, I suppose, as to ask +for his money back again." + +"I think he ought to have it all back," said Iris; "yes, all from the +very beginning. I am ashamed that I ever took any money from him. My +face burns when I think of it." + +To this her grandfather made no reply. The returning of money paid for +services rendered was, to his commercial mind, too foolish a thing to +be even talked about. At the same time, Iris was quite free to manage +her own affairs. And then there was that roll of papers in the safe. +Why, what matter if she sent away all her pupils? He changed the +subject. + +"Iris, my dear," he said, "about this other world, where the people +amuse themselves; the world which lives in the squares and in the big +houses on the Chelsea Embankment here, you know--how should you like, +just for a change, to belong to that world and have no work to do?" + +"I don't know," she replied carelessly, because the question did not +interest her. + +"You would have to leave me, of course. You would sever your +connection, as they say, with the shop." + +"Please, don't let us talk nonsense, grandfather." + +"You would have to be ashamed, perhaps, of ever having taught for your +living." + +"Now that I never should be--never, not if they made me a duchess." + +"You would go dressed in silk and velvet. My dear, I should like to +see you dressed up just for once, as we have seen them at the +theater." + +"Well, I should like one velvet dress in my life. Only one. And it +should be crimson--a beautiful, deep, dark crimson." + +"Very good. And you would drive in a carriage instead of an omnibus; +you would sit in the stalls instead of the upper circle; you would +give quantities of money to poor people; and you would buy as many +second hand books as you pleased. There are rich people, I believe, +ostentatious people, who buy new books. But you, my dear, have been +better brought up. No books are worth buying till they have stood the +criticism of a whole generation at least. Never buy new books, my +dear." + +"I won't," said Iris. "But, you dear old man, what have you got in +your head to-night? Why in the world should we talk about getting +rich?" + +"I was only thinking," he said, "that perhaps, you might be so much +happier--" + +"Happier? Nonsense! I am as happy as I can be. Six pupils already. To +be sure I have lost one," she sighed; "and the best among them all." + +When her grandfather left her, Iris placed candles on the +writing-table, but did not light them, though it was already pretty +dark. She had half an hour to wait; and she wanted to think, and +candles are not necessary for meditation. She sat at the open window +and suffered her thoughts to ramble where they pleased. This is a +restful thing to do, especially if your windows look upon a tolerably +busy but not noisy London road. For then, it is almost as good as +sitting beside a swiftly-running stream; the movement of the people +below is like the unceasing flow of the current; the sound of the +footsteps is like the whisper of the water along the bank; the echo of +the half heard talk strikes your ear like the mysterious voices wafted +to the banks from the boats as they go by; and the lights of the shops +and the street presently become spectral and unreal like lights seen +upon the river in the evening. + +Iris had a good many pupils--six, in fact, as she had boasted; why, +then, was she so strangely disturbed on account of one? + +An old tutor by correspondence may be, and very likely is, indifferent +about his pupils, because he has had so many; but Iris was a young +tutor, and had as yet known few. One of her pupils, for instance, was +a gentleman in the fruit and potato line, in the Borough. By reason of +his early education, which had not been neglected so much as entirely +omitted, he was unable to personally conduct his accounts. Now a +merchant without his accounts is as helpless as a tourist without his +Cook. So that he desired, in his mature age, to learn book keeping, +compound addition, subtraction, and multiplication. He had no +partners, so that he did not want division. But it is difficult--say, +well-nigh impossible--for a middle-aged merchant, not trained in the +graces of letter-writing, to inspire a young lady with personal +regard, even though she is privileged to follow the current of his +thoughts day by day, and to set him his sums. + +Next there was a young fellow of nineteen or twenty, who was beginning +life as an assistant-teacher in a commercial school at Lower Clapton. +This way is a stony and a thorny path to tread; no one walks upon it +willingly; those who are compelled to enter upon it speedily either +run away and enlist, or they go and find a secluded spot in which to +hang themselves. The smoother ways of the profession are only to be +entered by one who is the possessor of a degree, and it was the +determination of this young man to pass the London University +Examinations, and to obtain the degree of Bachelor. In this way his +value in the educational market would be at once doubled, and he could +command a better place and lighter work. He showed himself, in his +letters, to be an eminently practical, shrewd, selfish, and +thick-skinned young man, who would quite certainly get on in the +world, and was resolved to lose no opportunities, and, with that view, +he took as much work out of his tutor as he could get for the money. +Had he known that the "I.A." who took such a wonderful amount of +trouble with his papers was only a woman, he would certainly have +extorted a great deal more work for his money. All this Iris read in +his letters and understood. There is no way in which a man more surely +and more naturally reveals his true character than in his +correspondence, so that after awhile, even though the subject of the +letters be nothing more interesting than the studies in hand, those +who write the letters may learn to know each other if they have but +the mother wit to read between the lines. Certainly this young +schoolmaster did not know Iris, nor did he desire to discover what she +was like, being wholly occupied with the study of himself. Strange and +kindly provision of Nature. The less desirable a man actually appears +to others, the more fondly he loves and believes in himself. I have +heard it whispered that Narcissus was a hunchback. + +Then there was another pupil, a girl who was working her very hardest +in order to become, as she hoped, a first-class governess, and who, +poor thing! by reason of her natural thickness would never reach even +the third rank. Iris would have been sorry for her, because she worked +so fiercely, and was so stupid, but there was something hard and +unsympathetic in her nature which forbade pity. She was miserably +poor, too, and had an unsuccessful father, no doubt as stupid as +herself, and made pitiful excuses for not forwarding the slender fees +with regularity. + +Everybody who is poor should be, on that ground alone, worthy of pity +and sympathy. But the hardness and stupidity, and the ill-temper, all +combined and clearly shown in her letters, repelled her tutor. Iris, +who drew imaginary portraits of her pupils, pictured the girl as plain +to look upon, with a dull eye, a leathery, pallid cheek, a forehead +without sunshine upon it, and lips which seldom parted with a smile. + +Then there was, besides, a Cambridge undergraduate. He was neither +clever, nor industrious, nor very ambitious; he thought that a +moderate place was quite good enough for him to aim at, and he found +that his unknown and obscure tutor by correspondence was cheap and +obliging, and willing to take trouble, and quite as efficacious for +his purposes as the most expensive Cambridge coach. Iris presently +discovered that he was lazy and luxurious, a deceiver of himself, a +dweller in Fool's Paradise and a constant shirker of work. Therefore, +she disliked him. Had she actually known him and talked with him, she +might have liked him better in spite of these faults and shortcomings, +for he was really a pleasant, easygoing youth, who wallowed in +intellectual sloth, but loved physical activity; who will presently +drop easily, and comfortably, and without an effort or a doubt, into +the bosom of the Church, and will develop later on into an admirable +country parson, unless they disestablish the Establishment: in which +case, I do not know what he will do. + +But this other man, this man who was coming for an explanation, this +Mr. Arnold Arbuthnot, was, if you please, a very different kind of +pupil. In the first place he was a gentleman, a fact which he +displayed, not ostentatiously, in every line of his letters; next, he +had come to her for instruction--the only pupil she had in that +science, in heraldry, which she loved. It is far more pleasant to be +describing a shield and settling questions in the queer old language +of this queer old science, than in solving and propounding problems in +trigonometry and conic sections. And then--how if your pupil begins to +talk round the subject and to wander into other things? You cannot +very well talk round a branch of mathematics, but heraldry is a +subject surrounded by fields, meadows, and lawns, so to speak, all +covered with beautiful flowers. Into these the pupil wandered, and +Iris not unwillingly followed. Thus the teaching of heraldry by +correspondence became the most delightful interchange of letters +imaginable, set off and enriched with a curious and strange piquancy, +derived from the fact that one of them, supposed to be an elderly man, +was a young girl, ignorant of the world except from books, and the +advice given her by two old men, who formed all her society. Then, as +was natural, what was at first a kind of play, became before long a +serious and earnest confidence on the one side, and a hesitating +reception on the other. + +Latterly he more than once amused himself by drawing an imaginary +portrait of her; it was a pleasing portrait, but it made her feel +uneasy. + +"I know you," he said, "from your letters, but yet I want to know you +in person. I think you are a man advanced in years." Poor Iris! and +she not yet twenty-one. "You sit in your study and read; you wear +glasses, and your hair is gray; you have a kind heart and a cheerful +voice; you are not rich--you have never tried to make yourself rich; +you are therefore little versed in the ways of mankind; you take your +ideas chiefly from books; the few friends you have chosen are true and +loyal; you are full of sympathy, and quick to read the thoughts of +those in whom you take an interest." A very fine character, but it +made Iris's cheek to burn and her eyes to drop. To be sure she was not +rich, nor did she know the world; so far her pupil was right, but yet +she was not gray nor old. And, again, she was not, as he thought, a +man. + +Letter-writing is not extinct, as it is a commonplace to affirm, and +as people would have us believe. Letters are written still--the most +delightful letters--letters as copious, as charming, as any of the +last century; but men and women no longer write their letters as +carefully as they used to do in the old days, because they were then +shown about, and very likely read aloud. Our letters, therefore, +though their sentences are not so balanced nor their periods so +rounded, are more real, more truthful, more spontaneous, and more +delightful than the laborious productions of our ancestors, who had to +weigh every phrase, and to think out their bon mots, epigrams, and +smart things for weeks beforehand, so that the letter might appear +full of impromptu wit. I should like, for instance, just for once, to +rob the outward or the homeward mail, in order to read all the +delightful letters which go every week backward and forward between +the folk in India and the folk at home. + +"I shall lose my letters," Iris recollected, and her heart sunk. Not +only did her correspondent begin to draw these imaginary portraits of +her, but he proceeded to urge upon her to come out of her concealment, +and to grant him an interview. This she might have refused, in her +desire to continue a correspondence which brightened her monotonous +life. But there came another thing, and this decided her. He began to +give, and to ask, opinions concerning love, marriage, and such +topics--and then she perceived it could not possibly be discussed with +him, even in domino and male disguise. "As for love," her pupil wrote, +"I suppose it is a real and not a fancied necessity of life. A man, I +mean, may go on a long time without it, but there will come a time--do +not you think so?--when he is bound to feel the incompleteness of life +without a woman to love. We ought to train our boys and girls from the +very beginning to regard love and marriage as the only things really +worth having, because without them there is no happiness. Give me your +own experience. I am sure you must have been in love at some time or +other in your life." + +Anybody will understand that Iris could not possibly give her own +experience in love-matters, nor could she plunge into speculative +philosophy of this kind with her pupil. Obviously the thing must come +to an end. Therefore she wrote a letter to him, telling him that +"I.A." would meet him, if he pleased, that very evening at the hour of +eight. + +It is by this time sufficiently understood that Iris Aglen professed +to teach--it is an unusual combination--mathematics and heraldry; she +might also have taught equally well, had she chosen, sweetness of +disposition, goodness of heart, the benefits conferred by pure and +lofty thoughts on the expression of a girl's face, and the way to +acquire all the other gracious, maidenly virtues; but either there is +too limited a market for these branches of culture, or--which is +perhaps the truer reason--there are so many English girls, not to +speak of Americans, who are ready and competent to teach them, and do +teach them to their brothers, and their lovers, and to each other, and +to their younger sisters all day long. + +As for her heraldry, it was natural that she should acquire that +science, because her grandfather knew as much as any Pursuivant or +King-at-Arms, and thought that by teaching the child a science which +is nowadays cultivated by so few, he was going to make her fortune. +Besides, ever mindful of the secret packet, he thought that an heiress +ought to understand heraldry. It was, indeed, as you shall see, in +this way that her fortune was made; but yet not quite in the way he +proposed to make it. Nobody ever makes a fortune quite in the way at +first intended for him. + +As for her mathematics, it is no wonder that she was good in this +science, because she was a pupil of Lala Roy. + +This learned Bengalee condescended to acknowledge the study of +mathematics as worthy even of the Indian intellect, and amused himself +with them when he was not more usefully engaged in chess. He it was +who, being a lodger in the house, taught Iris almost as soon as she +could read how letters placed side by side may be made to signify and +accomplish stupendous things, and how they may disguise the most +graceful and beautiful curves, and how they may even open a way into +boundless space, and there disclose marvels. This wondrous world did +the philosopher open to the ready and quick-witted girl; nor did he +ever lead her to believe that it was at all an unusual or an +extraordinary thing for a girl to be so quick and apt for science as +herself, nor did he tell her that if she went to Newnham or to Girton, +extraordinary glories would await her, with the acclamations of the +multitude in the Senate House and the praise of the Moderators. Iris, +therefore, was not proud of her mathematics, which seemed part of her +very nature. But of her heraldry she was, I fear, extremely +proud--proud even to sinfulness. No doubt this was the reason why, +through her heraldry, the humiliation of this evening fell upon her. + +"If he is young," she thought, "if he is young--and he is sure to be +young--he will be very angry at having opened his mind to a girl"--it +will be perceived that, although she knew so much mathematics, she was +really very ignorant of the opposite sex, not to know that a young man +likes nothing so much as the opening of his mind to a young lady. "If +he is old, he will be more humiliated still"--as if any man at any age +was ever humiliated by confessing himself to a woman. "If he is a +proud man, he will never forgive me. Indeed, I am sure that he can +never forgive me, whatever kind of man he is. But I can do no more +than tell him I am sorry. If he will not forgive me then, what more +can I say? Oh, if he should be vindictive!" + +When the clock began to strike the hour of eight, Iris lighted her +candles, and before the pulsation of the last stroke had died away, +she heard the ringing of the house-bell. + +The door was opened by her grandfather himself, and she heard his +voice. + +"Yes," he said, "you will find your tutor, in the first floor front, +alone. If you are inclined to be vindictive, when you hear all, +please ring the bell for me." + +The visitor mounted the stairs, and Iris, hearing his step, began to +tremble and to shake for fear. + +When the door opened she did not at first look up. But she knew that +her pupil was there, and that he was looking for his tutor. + +"Pardon me"--the voice was not unpleasant--"pardon me. I was directed +to this room. I have an appointment with my tutor." + +"If," said Iris, rising, for the time for confession had at length +arrived, "if you are Mr. Arnold Arbuthnot, your appointment is, I +believe, with me." + +"It is with my tutor," he said. + +"I am your tutor. My initials are I.A." + +The room was only lighted by two candles, but they showed him the +hanging head and the form of a woman, and he thought she looked young, +judging by the outline. Her voice was sweet and clear. + +"My tutor? You?" + +"If you really are Mr. Arnold Arbuthnot, the gentleman who has +corresponded with I.A. for the last two years on heraldry, and--and +other things, I am your tutor." + +She had made the dreaded confession. The rest would be easy. She even +ventured to raise her eyes, and she perceived, with a sinking of the +heart, that her estimate of her pupil's age was tolerably correct. He +was a young man, apparently not more than five or six and twenty. + +It now remained to be seen if he was vindictive. + +As for the pupil, when he recovered a little from the blow of this +announcement, he saw before him a girl, quite young, dressed in a +simple gray or drab colored stuff, which I have reason to believe is +called Carmelite. The dress had a crimson kerchief arranged in folds +over the front, and a lace collar, and at first sight it made the +beholder feel that, considered merely as a setting of face and figure, +it was remarkably effective. Surely this is the true end and aim of +all feminine adornment, apart from the elementary object of keeping +one warm. + +"I--I did not know," the young man said, after a pause, "I did not +know at all that I was corresponding with a lady." + +Here she raised her eyes again, and he observed that the eyes were +very large and full of light--"eyes like the fishpools of +Heshbon"--dove's eyes. + +"I am very sorry," she said meekly. "It was my fault." + +He observed other things now, having regained the use of his senses. +Thus he saw that she wore her hair, which was of a wonderful chestnut +brown color, parted at the side like a boy's, and that she had not +committed the horrible enormity of cutting it short. He observed, too, +that while her lips were quivering and her cheek was blushing, her +look was steadfast. Are dove's eyes, he asked himself, always +steadfast? + +"I ought to have told you long ago, when you began to write +about--about yourself and other things, when I understood that you +thought I was a man--oh, long ago I ought to have told you the truth!" + +"It is wonderful!" said the young man, "it is truly wonderful!" He +was thinking of the letters--long letters, full of sympathy, and a +curious unworldly wisdom, which she had sent him in reply to his own, +and he was comparing them with her youthful face, as one involuntarily +compares a poet's appearance with his poetry--generally a +disappointing thing to do, and always a foolish thing. + +"I am very sorry," she repeated. + +"Have you many pupils, like myself?" + +"I have several pupils in mathematics. It does not matter to them +whether they are taught by a man or a woman. In heraldry I had only +one--you." + +He looked round the room. One end was occupied by shelves, filled with +books; in one of the windows was a table, covered with papers and +adorned with a type-writer, by means of which Iris carried on her +correspondence. For a moment the unworthy thought crossed his mind +that he had been, perhaps, artfully lured on by a siren for his +destruction. Only for a moment, however, because she raised her face +and met his gaze again, with eyes so frank and innocent, that he could +not doubt them. Besides, there was the clear outline of her face, so +truthful and so honest. The young man was an artist, and therefore +believed in outline. Could any sane and intelligent creature doubt +those curves of cheek and chin? + +"I have put together," she said, "all your letters for you. Here they +are. Will you, please, take them back? I must not keep them any +longer." He took them, and bowed. "I made this appointment, as you +desired, to tell you the truth, because I have deceived you too long: +and to beg you to forgive me; and to say that, of course, there is an +end to our correspondence." + +"Thank you. It shall be as you desire. Exactly," he repeated, "as you +desire." + +He ought to have gone at once. There was nothing more to say. Yet he +lingered, holding the letters in his hand. + +"To write these letters," he said, "has been for a long time one of +my greatest pleasures, partly because I felt that I was writing to a +friend, and so wrote in full trust and confidence; partly because they +procured me a reply--in the shape of your letters. Must I take back +these letters of mine?" + +She made no answer. + +"It is hard, is it not, to lose a friend so slowly acquired, thus +suddenly and unexpectedly?" + +"Yes," she said, "it is hard. I am very sorry. It was my fault." + +"Perhaps I have said something, in my ignorance--something which ought +not to have been said or written--something careless--something which +has lowered me in your esteem--" + +"Oh, no--no!" said Iris quickly. "You have never said anything that a +gentleman should not have said." + +"And if you yourself found any pleasure in answering my letters--" + +"Yes," said Iris with frankness, "it gave me great pleasure to read +and to answer your letters, as well as I could." + +"I have not brought back your letters. I hope you will allow me to +keep them. And, if you will, why should we not continue our +correspondence as before?" But he did not ask the question +confidently. + +"No," said Iris decidedly "it can never be continued as before. How +could it, when once we have met, and you have learned the truth?" + +"Then," he continued, "if we cannot write to each other any more, can +we not talk?" + +She ought to have informed him on the spot that the thing was quite +impossible, and not to be thought of for one moment. She should have +said, coldly, but firmly--every right-minded and well-behaved girl +would have said--"Sir, it is not right that you should come alone to a +young lady's study. Such things are not to be permitted. It we meet in +society, we may, perhaps, renew our acquaintance." + +But girls do go on sometimes as if there was no such thing as +propriety at all, and such cases are said to be growing more frequent. +Besides, Iris was not a girl who was conversant with social +convenances. She looked at her pupil thoughtfully and frankly. + +"Can we?" she asked. She who hesitates is lost, a maxim which cannot +be too often read, said, and studied. It is one of the very few golden +rules omitted from Solomon's Proverbs. "Can we? It would be pleasant." + +"It you will permit me," he blushed and stammered, wondering at her +ready acquiescence, "if you will permit me to call upon you +sometimes--here, if you will allow me, or anywhere else. You know my +name. I am by profession an artist, and I have a studio close at hand +in Tite Street." + +"To call upon me here?" she repeated. + +Now, when one is a tutor, and has been reading with a pupil for two +years, one regards that pupil with a feeling which may not be exactly +parental, but which is unconventional. If Arnold had said, "Behold me! +May I, being a young man, call upon you, a young woman?" she would +have replied: "No, young man, that can never be." But when he said, +"May I, your pupil, call sometimes upon you, my tutor?" a distinction +was at once established by which the impossible became possible. + +"Yes," she said, "I think you may call. My grandfather has his tea +with me every evening at six. You may call then if it will give you +any pleasure." + +"You really will let me come here?" + +The young man looked as if the permission was likely to give him the +greatest pleasure. + +"Yes; if you wish it." + +She spoke just exactly like an Oxford Don giving an undergraduate +permission to take an occasional walk with him, or to call for +conversation and advice at certain times in his rooms. Arnold noticed +the manner, and smiled. + +"Still," he said, "as your pupil." + +He meant to set her at her ease concerning the propriety of these +visits. She thought he meant a continuation of a certain little +arrangement as to fees, and blushed. + +"No," she said; "I must not consider you as a pupil any longer. You +have put an end to that yourself." + +"I do not mind, if only I continue your friend." + +"Oh," she said, "but we must not pledge ourselves rashly to +friendship. Perhaps you will not like me when you once come to know +me." + +"Then I remain your disciple." + +"Oh no," she flushed again, "you must already think me presumptuous +enough in venturing to give you advice. I have written so many foolish +things--" + +"Indeed, no," he interrupted, "a thousand times no. Let me tell you +once for all, if I may, that you have taught me a great deal--far more +than you can ever understand, or than I can explain. Where did you get +your wisdom? Not from the Book of Human Life. Of that you cannot know +much as yet." + +"The wisdom is in your imagination, I think. You shall not be my pupil +nor my disciple, but--well--because you have told me so much, and I +seem to have known you so long, and, besides, because you must never +feel ashamed of having told me so much, you shall come, if you please, +as my brother." + +It was not till afterward that she reflected on the vast +responsibilities she incurred in making this proposal, and on the +eagerness with which her pupil accepted it. + +"As your brother!" he cried, offering her his hand. "Why, it is +far--far more than I could have ventured to hope. Yes, I will come as +your brother. And now, although you know so much about me, you have +told me nothing about yourself--not even your name." + +"My name is Iris Aglen." + +"Iris! It is a pretty name!" + +"It was, I believe, my grandmother's. But I never saw her, and I do +not know who or what my father's relations are." + +"Iris Aglen!" he repeated. "Iris was the Herald of the Gods, and the +rainbow was constructed on purpose to serve her for a way from Heaven +to the Earth." + +"Mathematicians do not allow that," said the girl, smiling. + +"I don't know any mathematics. But now I understand in what school you +learned your heraldry. You are Queen-at-Arms at least, and Herald to +the Gods of Olympus." + +He wished to add something about the loveliness of Aphrodite, and the +wisdom of Athene, but he refrained, which was in good taste. + +"Thank you, Mr. Arbuthnot," Iris replied. "I learned my heraldry of my +grandfather, who taught himself from the books he sells. And my +mathematics I learned of Lala Roy, who is our lodger, and a learned +Hindoo gentleman. My father is dead--and my mother as well--and I have +no friends in the world except these two old men, who love me, and +have done their best to spoil me." + +Her eyes grew humid and her voice trembled. + +No other friends in the world! Strange to say, this young man felt a +little sense of relief. No other friends. He ought to have sympathized +with the girl's loneliness; he might have asked her how she could +possibly endure life without companionship, but he did not; he only +felt that other friends might have been rough and ill-bred; this girl +derived her refinement, not only from nature, but also from separation +from the other girls who might in the ordinary course have been her +friends and associates. And if no other friends, then no lover. +Arnold was only going to visit the young lady as her brother; but +lovers do not generally approve the introduction of such novel effects +as that caused by the appearance of a brand-new and previously +unsuspected brother. He was glad, on the whole, that there was no +lover. + +Then he left her, and went home to his studio, where he sat till +midnight, sketching a thousand heads one after the other with rapid +pencil. They were all girls' heads, and they all had hair parted on +the left side, with a broad, square forehead, full eyes, and straight, +clear-cut features. + +"No," he said, "it is no good. I cannot catch the curve of her +mouth--nobody could. What a pretty girl! And I am to be her brother! +What will Clara say? And how--oh, how in the world can she be, all at +the same time, so young, so pretty, so learned, so quick, so +sympathetic, and so wise?" + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE WOLF AT HOME. + + +There is a certain music-hall, in a certain street, leading out of a +certain road, and this is quite clear and definite enough. Its +distinctive characteristics, above any of its fellows, is a vulgarity +so profound, that the connoisseur or student in that branch of mental +culture thinks that here at last he has reached the lowest depths. For +this reason one shrinks from actually naming it, because it might +become fashionable, and then, if it fondly tried to change its +character to suit its changed audience, it might entirely lose its +present charm, and become simply commonplace. + +Joe Gallop stood in the doorway of this hall, a few days after the +Tempting of Mr. James. It was about ten o'clock, when the +entertainments were in full blast. He had a cigarette between his +lips, as becomes a young man of fashion, but it had gone out, and he +was thinking of something. To judge from the cunning look in his eyes, +it was something not immediately connected with the good of his +fellow-creatures. Presently the music of the orchestra ceased, and +certain female acrobats, who had been "contorting" themselves +fearfully and horribly for a quarter of an hour upon the stage, kissed +their hands, which were as hard as ropes, from the nature of their +profession, and smiled a fond farewell. There was some applause, but +not much, because neither man nor woman cares greatly for female +acrobats, and the performers themselves are with difficulty persuaded +to learn their art, and generally make haste to "go in" again as soon +as they can, and try henceforward to forget that they have ever done +things with ropes and bars. + +Joe, when they left the stage, ceased his meditations, whatever may +have been their subject, lit a fresh cigarette, and assumed an air of +great expectation, as if something really worth seeing and hearing +were now about to appear. And when the chairman brought down the +hammer with the announcement that Miss Carlotta Claradine, the +People's Favorite, would now oblige, it was Joe who loudly led the way +for a tumultuous burst of applause. Then the band, which at this +establishment, and others like unto it, only plays two tunes, one for +acrobats, and one for singers, struck up the second air, and the +People's Favorite appeared. She may have had by nature a sweet and +tuneful voice; perhaps it was in order to please her friends, the +people, that, she converted it into a harsh and rasping voice, that +she delivered her words with even too much gesture, and that she +uttered a kind of shriek at the beginning of every verse, which was +not in the composer's original music, but was thrown in to compel +attention. She was dressed with great simplicity, in plain frock, +apron, and white cap, to represent a fair young Quakeress, and she +sung a song about her lover with much "archness"--a delightful quality +in woman. + +"Splendid, splendid! Bravo!" shouted Joseph at the end of the first +verse. "That fetches 'em, don't it, sir? Positively drags 'em, in, +sir." + +He addressed his words, without turning his head, to a man who had +just come in, and was gazing at him with unbounded astonishment. + +"You here, Joe??" he said. + +Joe started. + +"Why, Chalker, who'd have thought to meet you in this music-hall?" + +"It's a good step, isn't it? And what are you doing, Joe? I heard +you'd left the P. and O. Company." + +"Had to," said Joe. "A gentleman has no choice but to resign. Ought +never to have gone there. There's no position, Chalker--no position at +all in the service. That is what I felt. Besides, the uniform, for a +man of my style, is unbecoming. And the captain was a cad." + +"Humph! and what are you doing then? Living on the old man again?" + +"Never you mind, David Chalker," replied Joe with dignity; "I am not +likely to trouble you any more after the last time I called upon you." + +"Well, Joe," said the other, without taking offense, "it is not my +business to lend money without a security, and all you had to offer +was your chance of what your grandfather might leave you--or might +not." + +"And a very good security too, if he does justice to his relations." + +"Yes; but how did I know whether he was going to do justice? Come, +Joe, don't be shirty with an old friend." + +There was a cordiality in the solicitor's manner which boded well. Joe +was pretty certain that Mr. Chalker was not a man to cultivate +friendship unless something was to be got out of it. It is only the +idle and careless who can waste time over unprofitable friendships. +With most men friendship means assisting in each other's little games, +so that every man must become, on occasion, bonnet, confederate, and +pal, for his friend, and may expect the same kindly office for +himself. + +If Chalker wished to keep up his old acquaintance with Joe Gallop, +there must be some good reason. Now the only reason which suggested +itself to Joe at that moment was that Chalker had lately drawn a new +will for the old man, and that he himself might be in it. Here he was +wrong. The only reason of Mr. Chalker's friendly attitude was +curiosity to know what Joe was doing, and how he was living. + +"Look here, Chalker," Joe whispered, "you used to pretend to be a pal. +What's the good of being a pal if you won't help a fellow? You see my +grandfather once a week or so; you shut the door and have long talks +with him. If you know what he's going to do with his money, why not +tell a fellow? Let's make a business matter of it." + +"How much do you know, Joe, and what is your business proposal worth?" + +"Nothing at all; that's the honest truth--I know nothing. The old +man's as tight as wax. But there's other business in the world besides +his. Suppose I know of something a precious sight better than his +investments, and suppose--just suppose--that I wanted a lawyer to +manage it for me?" + +"Well, Joe?" + +"Encore! Bravo! Encore! Bravo!" Joe banged his stick on the floor and +shouted because the singer ended her first song. He looked so fierce +and big, that all the bystanders made haste to follow his example. + +"Splendid, isn't she?" he said. + +"Hang the singer! What do you mean by other business?" + +"Perhaps it's nothing. Perhaps there will be thousands in it. And +perhaps I can get on without you, after all." + +"Very well, Joe. Get on without me if you like." + +"Look here, Chalker," Joe laid a persuasive hand on the other's arm, +"can't we two be friendly? Why don't you give a fellow a lift? All I +want to know is where the old man's put his money, and how he's left +it." + +"Suppose I do know," Mr. Chalker replied, wishing ardently that he +did, "do you think I am going to betray trust--a solicitor betray +trust--and for nothing? But if you want to talk real business, Joe, +come to my office. You know where that is." + +Joe knew very well; in fact, there had been more than one difficulty +which had been adjusted through Mr. Chalker's not wholly disinterested +aid. + +Then the singer appeared again attired in a new and startling dress, +and Joe began once more to applaud again with voice and stick. Mr. +Chalker, surprised at this newly-developed enthusiasm for art, left +him and walked up the hall, and sat down beside the chairman, whom he +seemed to know. In fact, the chairman was also the proprietor of the +show, and Mr. Chalker was acting for him in his professional capacity, +much as he had acted for Mr. Emblem. + +"Who is your new singer?" he asked. + +"She calls herself Miss Carlotta Claradine. She's a woman, let me tell +you, Mr. Chalker, who will get along. Fine figure, plenty of cheek, +loud voice, flings herself about, and don't mind a bit when the words +are a leetle strong. That's the kind of singer the people like. That's +her husband, at the far end of the room--the big, good-looking chap +with the light mustache and the cigarette in his mouth." + +"Whew!" Mr. Chalker whistled the low note which indicates Surprise. +"That's her husband, is it? The husband of Miss Carlotta Claradine, is +it? Oho! oho! Her husband! Are you sure he is her husband?" + +"Do you know him, then?" + +"Yes, I know him. What was the real name of the girl?" + +"Charlotte Smithers. This is her first appearance on any stage--and we +made up the name for her when we first put her on the posters. I made +it myself--out of Chlorodyne, you know, which is in the +advertisements. Sounds well, don't it? Carlotta Claradine." + +"Very well, indeed. By Jove! Her husband, is he?" + +"And, I suppose," said the chairman, "lives on his wife's salary. +Bless you, Mr. Chalker, there's a whole gang about every theater and +music hall trying to get hold of the promising girls. It's a regular +profession. Them as have nothing but their good looks may do for the +mashers, but these chaps look out for the girls who'll bring in the +money. What's a pretty face to them compared with the handling of a +big salary every week? That's the sort Carlotta's husband belongs to." + +"Well, the life will suit him down to the ground." + +"And jealous with it, if you please. He comes here every night to +applaud and takes her home himself. Keeps himself sober on purpose." + +And then the lady appeared again in a wonderful costume of blue silk +and tights, personating the Lion Masher. It was her third and last +song. + +In the applause which followed, Mr. Chalker could discern plainly the +stick as well as the voice of his old friend. And he thought how +beautiful is the love of husband unto wife, and he smiled, thinking +that when Joe came next to see him, he might, perhaps, hear truths +which he had thought unknown, and, for certain reasons, wished to +remain unknown. + +Presently he saw the singer pass down the hall, and join her husband, +who now, his labors ended, was seeking refreshment at the bar. She was +a good-looking girl--still only a girl, and apparently under +twenty--quietly dressed, yet looking anything but quiet. But that +might have been due to her fringe, which was, so to speak, a +prominent-feature in her face. She was tall and well-made, with large +features, an ample cheek, a full eye, and a wide mouth. A +good-natured-looking girl, and though her mouth was wide, it suggested +smiles. The husband was exchanging a little graceful badinage with the +barmaid when she joined him, and perhaps this made her look a little +cross. "She's jealous, too," said Mr. Chalker, observant; "all the +better." Yet a face which, on the whole, was prepossessing and good +natured, and betokened a disposition to make the best of the world. + +"How long has she been married?" Mr. Chalker asked the proprietor. + +"Only about a month or so." + +"Ah!" + +Mr. Chalker proceeded to talk business, and gave no further hint of +any interest in the newly-married pair. + +"Now, Joe," said the singer, with a freezing glance at the barmaid, +"are you going to stand here all night?" + +Joe drank off his glass and followed his wife into the street. They +walked side by side in silence, until they reached their lodgings. +Then she threw off her hat and jacket, and sat down on the horsehair +sofa and said abruptly: + +"I can't do it, Joe; and I won't. So don't ask me." + +"Wait a bit--wait a bit, Lotty, my love. Don't be in a hurry, now. +Don't say rash things, there's a good girl." Joe spoke quite softly, +as if he were not the least angry, but, perhaps, a little hurt. +"There's not a bit of a hurry. You needn't decide to-day, nor yet +to-morrow." + +"I couldn't do it," she said. "Oh, it's a dreadful, wicked thing even +to ask me. And only five weeks to-morrow since we married!" + +"Lotty, my dear, let us be reasonable." He still spoke quite softly. +"If we are not to go on like other people; if we are to be continually +bothering our heads about honesty, and that rubbish, we shall be +always down in the world. How do other people make money and get on? +By humbug, my dear. By humbug. As for you, a little play-acting is +nothing." + +"But I am not the man's daughter, and my own father's alive and well." + +"Look here, Lotty. You are always grumbling about the music-halls." + +"Well, and good reason to grumble. If you heard those ballet girls +talk, and see how they go on at the back, you'd grumble. As for the +music--" She laughed, as if against her will. "If anybody had told me +six months ago--me, that used to go to the Cathedral Service every +afternoon--that I should be a Lion Masher at a music-hall and go on +dressed in tights, I should have boxed his ears for impudence." + +"Why, you don't mean to tell me, Lotty, that you wish you had stuck to +the moldy old place, and gone on selling music over the counter?" + +"Well, then, perhaps I do." + +"No, no, Lotty; your husband cannot let you say that." + +"My husband can laugh and talk with barmaids. That makes him happy." + +"Lotty," he said, "you are a little fool. And think of the glory. +Posters with your name in letters a foot and a half long--'The +People's Favorite.' Why, don't they applaud you till their hands drop +off?" + +She melted a little. + +"Applaud! As if that did any good! And me in tights!" + +"As for the tights," Joe replied with dignity, "the only person whom +you need consult on that subject is your husband; and since I do not +object, I should like to see the man who does. Show me that man, +Lotty, and I'll straighten him out for you. You have my perfect +approval, my dear. I honor you for the tights." + +"My husband's approval!" + +She repeated his words again in a manner which had been on other +occasions most irritating to him. But to-night he refused to be +offended. + +"Of course," he went on, "as soon as I get a berth on another ship I +shall take you off the boards. It is the husband's greatest delight, +especially if he is a jolly sailor, to brave all dangers for his wife. +Think, Lotty, how pleasant it would be not to do any more work." + +"I should like to sing sometimes, to sing good music, at the great +concerts. That's what I thought I was going to do." + +"You shall; you shall sing as little or as often as you like. 'A +sailor's wife a sailor's star should be.' You shall be a great lady, +Lotty, and you shall just command your own line. Wait a bit, and you +shall have your own carriage, and your own beautiful house, and go to +as many balls as you like among the countesses and the swells." + +"Oh, Joe!" she laughed. "Why, if we were as rich as anything, I should +never get ladies to call upon me. And as for you, no one would ever +take you to be a gentleman, you know." + +"Why, what do you call me, now?" + +He laughed, but without much enjoyment. No one likes to be told that +he is not a gentleman, whatever his own suspicions on the subject may +be. + +"Never mind. I know a gentleman when I see one. Go on with your +nonsense about being rich." + +"I shall make you rich, Lotty, whether you like it or not," he said, +still with unwonted sweetness. + +She shook her head. + +"Not by wickedness," she said stoutly. + +"I've got there," he pulled a bundle of papers out of his pockets, +"all the documents wanted to complete the case. All I want now is for +the rightful heiress to step forward." + +"I'm not the rightful heiress, and I'm not the woman to step forward, +Joe; so don't you think it." + +"I've been to-day," Joe continued, "to Doctors' Commons, and I've seen +the will. There's no manner of doubt about it; and the money--oh, +Lord, Lotty, if you only knew how much it is!" + +"What does it matter, Joe, how much it is, if it is neither yours nor +mine?" + +"It matters this: that it ought all to be mine." + +"How can that be, if it was not left to you?" + +Joe was nothing if not a man of resource. He therefore replied without +hesitation or confusion: + +"The money was left to a certain man and to his heirs. That man is +dead. His heiress should have succeeded, but she was kept out of her +rights. She is dead, and I am her cousin, and entitled to all her +property, because she made no will." + +"Is that gospel truth, Joe? Is she dead? Are you sure?" + +"Quite sure," he replied. "Dead as a door-nail." + +"Is that the way you got the papers?" + +"That's the way, Lotty." + +"Then why not go to a lawyer and make him take up the case for you, +and honestly get your own?" + +"You don't know law, my dear, or you wouldn't talk nonsense about +lawyers. There are two ways. One is to go myself to the present +unlawful possessor and claim the whole. It's a woman; she would be +certain to refuse, and then we should go to law, and very likely lose +it all, although the right is on our side. The other way is for some +one--say you--to go to her and say: 'I am that man's daughter. Here +are my proofs. Here are all his papers. Give me back my own.' That you +could do in the interests of justice, though I own it is not the exact +truth." + +"And if she refuses then?" + +"She can't refuse, with the man's daughter actually standing before +her. She might make a fuss for a bit. But she would have to give in at +last." + +"Joe, consider. You have got some papers, whatever they may contain. +Suppose that it is all true that you have told me--" + +"Lotty, my dear, when did I ever tell you an untruth?" + +"When did you ever tell me the truth, my dear? Don't talk wild. +Suppose it is all true, how are you going to make out where your +heiress has been all this time, and what she has been doing?" + +"Trust me for that." + +"I trust you for making up something or other, but--oh, Joe, you +little think, you clever people, how seldom you succeed in deceiving +any one." + +"I've got such a story for you, Lotty, as would deceive anybody. +Listen now. It's part truth, and part--the other thing. Your father--" + +"My father, poor dear man," Lotty interrupted, "is minding his +music-shop in Gloucester, and little thinking what wickedness his +daughter is being asked to do." + +"Hang it! the girl's father, then. He died in America, where he went +under another name, and you were picked up by strangers and reared +under that name, in complete ignorance of your own family. All which +is true and can be proved." + +"Who brought her up?" + +"People in America. I'm one of 'em." + +"Who is to prove that?" + +"I am. I am come to England on purpose. I am her guardian." + +"Who is to prove that you are the girl's guardian?" + +"I shall find somebody to prove that." + +His thoughts turned to Mr. Chalker, a gentleman whom he judged capable +of proving anything he was paid for. + +"And suppose they ask me questions?" + +"Don't answer 'em. You know very little. The papers were only found +the other day. You are not expected to know anything." + +"Where was the real girl?" + +"With her grandfather." + +"Where was the grandfather?" + +"What does that matter?" he replied; "I will tell you afterward." + +"When did the real girl die?" + +"That, too, I will tell you afterward." + +Lotty leaned her cheek upon her hand, and looked at her husband +thoughtfully. + +"Let us be plain, Joe." + +"You can never be plain, my dear," he replied with the smile of a +lover, not a husband; "never in your husband's eyes; not even in +tights." + +But she was not to be won by flattery. + +"Fine words," she said, "fine words. What do they amount to? Oh, Joe, +little I thought when you came along with your beautiful promises, +what sort of a man I was going to marry." + +"A very good sort of a man," he said. "You've got a jolly sailor--an +officer and a gentleman. Come now, what have you got to say to this? +Can't you be satisfied with an officer and a gentleman?" + +He drew himself up to his full height. Well, he was a handsome fellow: +there was no denying it. + +"Good looks and fine words," his wife went on. "Well, and now I've got +to keep you, and if you could make me sing in a dozen halls every +night, you would, and spend the money on yourself--joyfully you +would." + +"We would spend it together, my dear. Don't turn rusty, Lotty." + +He was not a bad-tempered man, and this kind of talk did not anger him +at all. So long as his wife worked hard and brought in the coin for +him to spend, what mattered for a few words now and then? Besides, he +wanted her assistance. + +"What are you driving at?" he went on. "I show you a bit of my hand, +and you begin talking round and round. Look here, Lotty. Here's a +splendid chance for us. I must have a woman's help. I would rather +have your help than any other woman's--yes, than any other woman's in +the world. I would indeed. If you won't help me, why, then, of course, +I must go to some other woman." + +His wife gasped and choked. She knew already, after only five weeks' +experience, how bad a man he was--how unscrupulous, false, and +treacherous, how lazy and selfish. But, after a fashion, she loved +him; after a woman's fashion, she was madly jealous of him. Another +woman! And only the other night she had seen him giving +brandy-and-soda to one of the music-hall ballet-girls. Another woman! + +"If you do, Joe," she said; "oh, if you do--I will kill her and you +too!" + +He laughed. + +"If I do, my dear, you don't think I shall be such a fool as to tell +you who she is. Do you suppose that no woman has ever fallen in love +with me before you? But then, my pretty, you see I don't talk about +them; and do you suppose--oh, Lotty, are you such a fool as to suppose +that you are the first girl I ever fell in love with?" + +"What do you want me to do? Tell me again." + +"I have told you already. I want you to become, for the time, the +daughter of the man who died in America; you will claim your +inheritance; I will provide you with all the papers; I will stand by +you; I will back you up with such a story as will disarm all +suspicion. That is all." + +"Yes. I understand. Haven't people been sent to prison for less, Joe?" + +"Foolish people have. Not people who are well advised and under good +management. Mind you, this business is under my direction. I am boss." + +She made no reply, but took her candle and went off to bed. + +In the dead of night she awakened her husband. + +"Joe," she said, "is it true that you know another girl who would do +this for you?" + +"More than one, Lotty," he replied, this man of resource, although he +was only half awake. "More than one. A great many more. Half-a-dozen, +I know, at least." + +She was silent. Half an hour afterward she woke him up again. + +"Joe," she said, "I've made up my mind. You sha'n't say that I refused +to do for you what any other girl in the world would have done." + +As a tempter it will be seen that Joe was unsurpassed. + +It was now a week since he had received, carefully wrapped in wool, +and deposited in a wooden box dispatched by post, a key, newly made. +It was, also, very nearly a week since he had used that key. It was +used during Mr. Emblem's hour for tea, while James waited and watched +outside in an agony of terror. But Joe did not find what he wanted. +There were in the safe one or two ledgers, a banker's book, a +check-book, and a small quantity of money. But there were not any +records at all of monies invested. There were no railway certificates, +waterwork shares, transfers, or notes of stock, mortgages, loans, or +anything at all. The only thing that he saw was a roll of papers tied +up with red tape. On the roll was written: "For Iris. To be given to +her on her twenty-first birthday." + +"What the deuce is this, I wonder?" Joe took this out and looked at it +suspiciously. "Can he be going to give her all his money before he +dies? Is he going to make her inherit it at once?" The thought was so +exasperating that he slipped the roll into his pocket. "At all +events," he said, "she sha'n't have them until I have read them first. +I dare say they won't be missed for a day or two." + +He calculated that he could read and master the contents that night, +and put back the papers in the safe in the morning while James was +opening the shop. + +"There's nothing, James," he whispered as he went out, the safe being +locked again. "There is nothing at all. Look here, my lad, you must +try another way of finding out where the money is." + +"I wish I was sure that he hasn't carried off something in his +pocket," James murmured. + +Joe spent the whole evening alone, contrary to his usual practice, +which was, as we have seen, to spend it at a certain music-hall. He +read the papers over and over again. + +"I wish," he said at length, "I wish I had known this only two months +ago. I wish I had paid more attention to Iris. What a dreadful thing +it is to have a grandfather who keeps secrets from his grandson. What +a game we might have had over this job! What a game we might have +still if--" + +And here he stopped, for the first germ or conception of a magnificent +coup dawned upon him, and fairly dazzled him so that his eyes saw a +bright light and nothing else. + +"If Lotty would," he said. "But I am afraid she won't hear of it." He +sprung to his feet and caught sight of his own face in the looking +glass over the fireplace. He smiled. "I will try," he said, "I think +I know by this time, how to get round most of 'em. Once they get to +feel there are other women in the world besides themselves, they're +pretty easy worked. I will try." + +One has only to add to the revelations already made that Joe paid a +second visit to the shop, this time early in the morning. The shutters +were only just taken down. James was going about with that remarkable +watering-pot only used in shops, which has a little stream running out +of it, and Mr. Emblem was upstairs slowly shaving and dressing in his +bedroom. He walked in, nodded to his friend the assistant, opened the +safe, and put back the roll. + +"Now," he murmured, "if the old man has really been such a +dunder-headed pump as not to open the packet all these years, what the +devil can he know? The name is different; he hasn't got any clew to +the will; he hasn't got the certificate of his daughter's marriage, or +of the child's baptism--both in the real name. He hasn't got anything. +As for the girl here, Iris, having the same christian-name, that's +nothing. I suppose there is more than one woman with such a fool of a +name as that about in the world. + +"Foxy," he said cheerfully, "have you found anything yet about the +investments? Odd, isn't it? Nothing in the safe at all. You can have +your key back." + +He tossed him the key carelessly and went away. + +The question of his grandfather's savings was grown insignificant +beside this great and splendid prize which lay waiting for him. What +could the savings be? At best a few thousands; the slowly saved thrift +of fifty years; nobody knew better than Joe himself how much his own +profligacies had cost his grandfather; a few thousands, and those +settled on his Cousin Iris, so that, to get his share, he would have +to try every kind of persuasion unless he could get up a case for law. +But the other thing--why, it was nearly all personal estate, so far as +he could learn by the will, and he had read it over and over again in +the room at Somerset House, with the long table in it, and the +watchful man who won't let anybody copy anything. What a shame, he +thought, not to let wills be copied! Personalty sworn under a hundred +and twenty thousand, all in three per cents, and devised to a certain +young lady, the testator's ward, in trust, for the testator's son, or +his heirs, when he or they should present themselves. Meantime, the +ward was to receive for her own use and benefit, year by year, the +whole income. + +"It is unfortunate," said Joe, "that we can't come down upon her for +arrears. Still, there's an income, a steady income, of three thousand +six hundred a year when the son's heirs present themselves. I should +like to call myself a solicitor, but that kite won't fly, I'm afraid. +Lotty must be the sole heiress. Dressed quiet, without any powder, and +her fringe brushed flat, she'd pass for a lady anywhere. Perhaps it's +lucky, after all, that I married her, though if I had had the good +sense to make up to Iris, who's a deuced sight prettier, she'd have +kept me going almost as well with her pupils, and set me right with +the old man and handed me over this magnificent haul for a finish. If +only the old man hasn't broken the seals and read the papers!" + +The old man had not, and Joe's fears were, therefore, groundless. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +AS A BROTHER. + + +Arnold immediately began to use the privilege accorded to him with a +large and liberal interpretation. If, he argued, a man is to be +treated as a brother, there should be the immediate concession of the +exchange of christian-names, and he should be allowed to call as often +as he pleases. Naturally he began by trying to read the secret of a +life self-contained, so dull, and yet so happy, so strange to his +experience. + +"Is this, Iris?" he asked, "all your life? Is there nothing more?" + +"No," she said; "I think you have seen all. In the morning I have my +correspondence; in the afternoon I do my sewing, I play a little, I +read, or I walk, sometimes by myself, and sometimes with Lala Roy; in +the evening I play again, or I read again, or I work at the +mathematics, while my grandfather and Lala Roy have their chess. We +used to go to the theater sometimes, but of late my grandfather has +not gone. At ten we go to bed. That is all my life." + +"But, Iris, have you no friends at all, and no relations? Are there no +girls of your own age who come to see you?" + +"No, not one; I have a cousin, but he is not a good man at all. His +father and mother are in Australia. When he comes here, which is very +seldom, my grandfather falls ill only with thinking about him and +looking at him. But I have no other relations, because, you see, I do +not know who my father's people were." + +"Then," said Arnold, "you may be countess in your own right; you may +have any number of rich people and nice people for your cousins. Do +you not sometimes think of that?" + +"No" said Iris; "I never think about things impossible." + +"If I were you, I should go about the streets, and walk round the +picture-galleries looking for a face like your own. There cannot be +many. Let me draw your face, Iris, and then we will send it to the +Grosvenor, and label it, 'Wanted, this young lady's cousins.' You must +have cousins, if you could only find them out." + +"I suppose I must. But what if they should turn out to be rough and +disagreeable people?" + +"Your cousins could not be disagreeable, Iris," said Arnold. + +She shook her head. + +"One thing I should like," she replied. "It would be to find that my +cousins, if I have any, are clever people--astronomers, +mathematicians, great philosophers, and writers. But what nonsense it +is even to talk of such things; I am quite alone, except for my +grandfather and Lala Roy." + +"And they are old," murmured Arnold. + +"Do not look at me with such pity," said the girl. "I am very happy. I +have my own occupation; I am independent; I have my work to fill my +mind; and I have these two old gentlemen to care for and think +of. They have taken so much care of me that I ought to think of +nothing else but their comfort; and then there are the books +down-stairs--thousands of beautiful old books always within my reach." + +"But you must have some companions, if only to talk and walk with." + +"Why, the books are my companions; and then Lala Roy goes for walks +with me; and as for talking, I think it is much more pleasant to +think." + +"Where do you walk?" + +"There is Battersea Park; there are the squares; and if you take an +omnibus, there are the Gardens and Hyde Park." + +"But never alone, Iris?" + +"Oh, yes, I am often alone. Why not?" + +"I suppose," said Arnold, shirking the question, because this is a +civilized country, and in fact, why not? "I suppose that it is your +work which keeps you from feeling life dull and monotonous." + +"No life," she said, looking as wise as Newton, if Newton was ever +young and handsome--"no life can be dull when one is thinking about +mathematics all day. Do you study mathematics?" + +"No; I was at Oxford, you know." + +"Then perhaps you prefer metaphysics? Though Lala Roy says that the +true metaphysics, which he has tried to teach me, can only be reached +by the Hindoo intellect." + +"No, indeed; I have never read any metaphysics whatever. I have only +got the English intellect." This he said with intent satirical, but +Iris failed to understand it so, and thought it was meant for a +commendable humility. + +"Physical science, perhaps?" + +"No, Iris. Philosophy, mathematics, physics, metaphysics, or science +of any kind have I never learned, except only the science of Heraldry, +which you have taught me, with a few other things." + +"Oh!" She wondered how a man could exist at all without learning these +things. "Not any science at all? How can any one live without some +science?" + +"I knew very well," he said, "that as soon as I was found out I should +be despised." + +"Oh, no, not despised. But it seems such a pity--" + +"There is another kind of life, Iris, which you do not know. You must +let me teach you. It is the life of Art. If you would only condescend +to show the least curiosity about me, Iris, I would try to show you +something of the Art life." + +"How can I show curiosity about you, Arnold? I feel none." + +"No; that is just the thing which shames me. I have felt the most +lively curiosity about you, and I have asked you thousands of +impertinent questions." + +"Not impertinent, Arnold. If you want to ask any more, pray do. I dare +say you cannot understand my simple life." + +"And you ask me nothing at all about myself. It isn't fair, Iris." + +"Why should I? I know you already." + +"You know nothing at all about me." + +"Oh, yes, I know you very well indeed. I knew you before you came +here. You showed me yourself in your letters. You are exactly like the +portrait I drew of you. I never thought, for instance, that you were +an old gentleman, as you thought me." He laughed. It was a new thing +to see Iris using, even gently, the dainty weapons of satire. + +"But you do not know what I am, or what is my profession, or anything +at all about me." + +"No; I do not care to know. All that is not part of yourself. It is +outside you." + +"And because you thought you knew me from those letters, you suffer me +to come here and be your disciple still? Yet you gave me back my +letters?" + +"That was because they were written to me under a wrong impression." + +"Will you have them back again?" + +She shook her head. + +"I know them all by heart," she said simply. + +There was not the slightest sign of coquetry or flattery in her voice, +or in her eyes, which met his look with clear and steady gaze. + +"I cannot ask you to read my portrait to me as you drew it from those +pictures." + +"Why not?" She began to read him his portrait as readily as if she +were stating the conclusion of a problem. "I saw that you were young +and full of generous thoughts; sometimes you were indignant with +things as they are, but generally you laughed at them and accepted +them. It is, it seems, the nature of your friends to laugh a great +deal at things which they ought to remedy if they could; not laugh at +them. I thought that you wanted some strong stimulus to work; anybody +could see that you were a man of kindly nature and good-breeding. You +were careful not to offend by anything that you wrote, and I was +certain that you were a man of honor. I trusted you, Arnold, before I +saw your face, because I knew your soul." + +"Trust me still, Iris," he said in rather a husky voice. + +"Of course I did not know, and never thought, what sort of a man you +were to look at. Yet I ought to have known that you were handsome. I +should have guessed that from the very tone of your letters. A +hunchback or a cripple could not have written in so light-hearted a +strain, and I should have discovered, if I had thought of such a +thing, that you were very well satisfied with your personal +appearance. Young men should always be that, at least, if only to give +them confidence." + +"Oh, Iris--oh! Do you really think me conceited?" + +"I did not say that. I only said that you were satisfied with +yourself. That, I understand now, was clear, from many little natural +touches in your letters." + +"What else did you learn?" + +"Oh, a great deal--much more than I can tell you. I knew that you go +into society, and I learned from you what society means; and though +you tried to be sarcastic, I understood easily that you liked social +pleasure." + +"Was I sarcastic?" + +"Was it not sarcastic to tell me how the fine ladies, who affect so +much enthusiasm for art, go to see the galleries on the private-view +day, and are never seen in them again? Was it not sarcastic--" + +"Spare me, Iris. I will never do it again. And knowing so much, do you +not desire to know more?" + +"No, Arnold. I am not interested in anything else." + +"But my position, my profession, my people--are you not curious to +know them?" + +"No. They are not you. They are accidents of yourself." + +"Philosopher! But you must know more about me. I told you I was an +artist. But you have never inquired whether I was a great artist or a +little one." + +"You are still a little artist," she said. "I know that, without being +told. But perhaps you may become great when you learn to work +seriously." + +"I have been lazy," he replied with something like a blush, "but that +is all over now. I am going to work. I will give up society. I will +take my profession seriously, if only you will encourage me." + +Did he mean what he said? When he came away he used at this period to +ask himself that question, and was astonished at the length he had +gone. With any other girl in the world, he would have been taken at +his word, and either encouraged to go on, or snubbed on the spot. But +Iris received these advances as if they were a confession of weakness. + +"Why do you want me to encourage you?" she asked. "I know nothing +about Art. Can't you encourage yourself, Arnold?" + +"Iris, I must tell you something more about myself. Will you listen +for a moment? Well, I am the son of a clergyman who now holds a +colonial appointment. I have got the usual number of brothers and +sisters, who are doing the usual things. I will not bore you with +details about them." + +"No," said Iris, "please do not." + +"I am the adopted son, or ward, or whatever you please, of a certain +cousin. She is a single lady with a great income, which she promises +to bequeath to me in the future. In the meantime, I am to have +whatever I want. Do you understand the position, Iris?" + +"Yes, I think so. It is interesting, because it shows why you will +never be a great artist. But it is very sad." + +"A man may rise above his conditions, Iris," said Arnold meekly. + +"No," she went on; "it is only the poor men who do anything good. Lala +Roy says so." + +"I will pretend to be poor--indeed, I am poor. I have nothing. If it +were not for my cousin, I could not even profess to follow Art." + +"What a pity," she said, "that you are rich! Lala Roy was rich once." + +Arnold repressed an inclination to desire that Lala Roy might be kept +out of the conversation. + +"But he gave up all his wealth and has been happy, and a philosopher, +ever since." + +"I can't give up my wealth, Iris, because I haven't got any--I owe my +cousin everything. But for her, I should never even have known you." + +He watched her at her work in the morning when she sat patiently +answering questions, working out problems, and making papers. She +showed him the letters of her pupils, exacting, excusing, +petulant--sometimes dissatisfied and even ill-tempered, he watched her +in the afternoon while she sewed or read. In the evening he sat with +her while the two old men played their game of chess. Regularly every +evening at half-past nine the Bengalee checkmated Mr. Emblem. Up to +that hour he amused himself with his opponent, formed ingenious +combinations, watched openings, and gradually cleared the board until +he found himself as the hour of half-past nine drew near, able to +propose a simple problem to his own mind, such as, "White moves first, +to mate in three, four, or five moves," and then he proceeded to solve +that problem, and checkmated his adversary. + +No one, not even Iris, knew how Lala Roy lived, or what he did in the +daytime. It was rumored that he had been seen at Simpson's in the +Strand, but this report wanted confirmation. He had lived in Mr. +Emblem's second floor for twenty years; he always paid his bills with +regularity, and his long spare figure and white mustache and fez were +as well known in Chelsea as any red-coated lounger among the old +veterans of the Hospital. + +"It is quiet for you in the evenings," said Arnold. + +"I play to them sometimes. They like to hear me play during the game. +Look at them." + +She sat down and played. She had a delicate touch, and played soft +music, such as soothes, not excites the soul. Arnold watched her, not +the old men. How was it that refinement, grave, self-possession, +manners, and the culture of a lady, could be found in one who knew no +ladies? But then Arnold did not know Lala Roy, nor did he understand +the old bookseller. + +"You are always wondering about me," she said, talking while she +played; "I see it in your eyes. Can you not take me as I am, without +thinking why I am different from other girls? Of course I am +different, because I know none of them." + +"I wish they were all like you," he said. + +"No; that would be a great pity. You want girls who understand your +own life, and can enter into your pursuits--you want companions who +can talk to you; go back to them, Arnold, as soon as you are tired of +coming here." + +And yet his instinct was right which told him that the girl was not a +coquette. She had no thought--not the least thought--as yet that +anything was possible beyond the existing friendship. It was pleasant, +but Arnold would get tired of her, and go back to his own people. Then +he would remain in her memory as a study of character. This she did +not exactly formulate, but she had that feeling. Every woman makes a +study of character about every man in whom she becomes ever so little +interested. But we must not get conceited, my brothers, over this +fact. The converse, unhappily, does not hold true. Very few men ever +study the character of a woman at all. Either they fall in love with +her before they have had time to make more than a sketch, and do not +afterward pursue the subject, or they do not fall in love with her at +all; and in the latter case it hardly seems worth while to follow up a +first rough draft. + +"Checkmate," said Lala Roy. + +The game was finished and the evening over. "Would you like," he +said, another evening, "to see my studio, or do you consider my studio +outside myself?" + +"I should very much like to see an artist's studio," she replied with +her usual frankness, leaving it an open question whether she would not +be equally pleased to see any other studio. + +She came, however, accompanied by Lala Roy, who had never been in a +studio before, and indeed had never looked at a picture, except with +the contemptuous glance which the philosopher bestows upon the follies +of mankind. Yet he came, because Iris asked him. Arnold's studio is +one of the smallest of those in Tite Street. Of course it is built of +red brick, and of course it has a noble staircase and a beautiful +painting-room or studio proper all set about with bits of tapestry, +armor, pictures, and china, besides the tools and properties of the +craft. He had portfolios full of sketches; against the wall stood +pictures, finished and unfinished; on an easel was a half-painted +picture representing a group taken from a modern novel. Most painters +only draw scenes from two novels--the "Vicar of Wakefield" and "Don +Quixote;" but Arnold knew more. The central figure was a girl, quite +unfinished--in fact, barely sketched in. + +Iris looked at everything with the interest which belongs to the new +and unexpected. + +Arnold began to show the pictures in the portfolios. There were +sketches of peasant life in Norway and on the Continent; there were +landscapes, quaint old houses, and castles; there were ships and +ports; and there were heads--hundreds of heads. + +"I said you might be a great artist," said Iris. "I am sure now that +you will be if you choose." + +"Thank you, Iris. It is the greatest compliment you could pay me." + +"And what is this?" she was before the easel on which stood the +unfinished picture. + +"It is a scene from a novel. But I cannot get the principal face. None +of the models are half good enough. I want a sweet face, a serious +face, a face with deep, beautiful eyes. Iris"--it was a sudden +impulse, an inspiration--"let me put your face there. Give me my first +commission." + +She blushed deeply. All these drawings, the multitudinous faces and +heads and figures in the portfolio were a revelation to her. And just +at the very moment when she discovered that Arnold was one of those +who worship beauty--a thing she had never before understood--he told +her that her face was so beautiful that he must put in his picture. + +"Oh, Arnold," she said, "my face would be out of place in that +picture." + +"Would it? Please sit down, and let me make a sketch." + +He seized his crayons and began rapidly. + +"What do you say, Lala Roy?" he asked by way of diversion. + +"The gifts of the understanding," said the Sage, "are the treasures of +the Lord; and He appointeth to every one his portion." + +"Thank you," replied Arnold. "Very true and very apt, I'm sure. Iris, +please, your face turned just a little. So. Ah, if I can but do some +measure of justice to your eyes!" + +When Iris went away, there was for the first time the least touch of +restraint or self-consciousness in her. Arnold felt it. She showed it +in her eyes and in the touch of her fingers when he took her hand at +parting. It was then for the first time also that Arnold discovered a +truth of overwhelming importance. Every new fact--everything which +cannot be disputed or denied, is, we all know, of the most enormous +importance. He discovered no less a truth than that he was in love +with Iris. So important is this truth to a young man that it reduces +the countless myriads of the world to a single pair--himself and +another; it converts the most arid waste of streets into an Eden; and +it blinds the eyes to ambition, riches, and success. Arnold sat down +and reasoned out this truth. He said coldly and "squarely:" + +"This is a girl whom I have known only a fortnight or so; she lives +over a second-hand bookshop; she is a teacher by profession; she knows +none of the ways of society; she would doubtless be guilty of all +kinds of queer things, if she were suddenly introduced to good people; +probably, she would never learn our manners," with more to the same +effect, which may be reasonably omitted. Then his Conscience woke up, +and said quite simply: "Arnold, you are a liar." Conscience does +sometimes call hard names. She is feminine, and therefore privileged +to call hard names. Else we would sometimes kick and belabor +Conscience. "Arnold, don't tell more lies. You have been gradually +learning to know Iris, through the wisest and sweetest letters that +were ever written, for a whole year. You gradually began to know her, +in fact, when you first began to interlard your letters with conceited +revelations about yourself. You knew her to be sympathetic, quick, and +of a most kind and tender heart. You are quite sure, though you try to +disguise the fact, that she is as honest as the day, and as true as +steel. As for her not being a lady, you ought to be ashamed of +yourself for even thinking such a thing. Has she not been tenderly +brought up by two old men who are full of honor, and truth, and all +the simple virtues? Does she not look, move, and speak like the most +gracious lady in the land?" "Like a goddess," Arnold confessed. "As +for the ways and talk of society, what are these worth? and cannot +they be acquired? And what are her manners save those of the most +perfect refinement and purity?" Thus far Conscience. Then Arnold, or +Arnold's secret _advocatus diaboli_, began upon another and quite +different line. "She must have schemed at the outset to get me into +her net; she is a siren; she assumes the disguise of innocence and +ignorance the better to beguile and to deceive. She has gone home +to-day elated because she thinks she has landed a gentleman." + +Conscience said nothing; there are some things to which Conscience has +no reply in words to offer; yet Conscience pointed to the portrait of +the girl, and bade the most unworthy of all lovers look upon even his +own poor and meager representation of her eyes and face, and ask +whether such blasphemies could ever be forgiven. + +After a self abasement, which for shame's sake we must pass over, the +young man felt happier. + +Henry the Second felt much the same satisfaction the morning after +his scourging at the hands of the monks, who were as muscular as they +were vindictive. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +COUSIN CLARA. + + +That man who spends his days in painting a girl's portrait, in talking +to her, and in gazing upon the unfinished portrait when she is not +with him, and occupies his thoughts during the watches of the night in +thinking about her, is perilously near to taking the last and fatal +step. Flight for such a man is the only thing left, and he so seldom +thinks of flight until it is too late. + +Arnold was at this point. + +"I am possessed by this girl," he might have said had he put his +thoughts into words. "I am haunted by her eyes; her voice lingers on +my ears; I dream of her face, the touch of her fingers is like the +touch of an electric battery." What symptoms are these, so common that +one is almost ashamed to write them down, but the infallible symptoms +of love? And yet he hesitated, not because he doubted himself any +longer, but because he was not independent, and such an engagement +might deprive him at one stroke of all that he possessed. Might? It +certainly would. Yes, the new and beautiful studio, all the things in +it, all his prospects for the future, would have to be given up. "She +is worth more than that," said Arnold, "and I should find work +somehow. But yet, to plunge her into poverty--and to make Clara the +most unhappy of women!" + +The reason why Clara would be made the most unhappy of women, was that +Clara was his cousin and his benefactor, to whom he owed everything. +She was the kindest of patrons, and she liked nothing so much as the +lavishing upon her ward everything that he could desire. But she also, +unfortunately, illustrated the truth of Chaucer's teaching, in that +she loved power more than anything else, and had already mapped out +Arnold's life for him. + +It was his custom to call upon her daily, to use her house as his own. +When they were separated, they wrote to each other every day; the +relations between them were of the most intimate and affectionate +kind. He advised in all her affairs, while she directed his; it was +understood that he was her heir, and though she was not more than five +and forty or so, and had, apparently, a long life still before her, so +that the succession was distant, the prospect gave him importance. She +had been out of town, and perhaps the fact of a new acquaintance with +so obscure a person as a simple tutor by correspondence, seemed to +Arnold not worth mentioning. At all events, he had not mentioned it in +his daily letters. + +And now she was coming home; she was actually arrived; he would see +her that evening. Her last letter was lying before him. + + "I parted from dear Stella yesterday. She goes to stay with + the Essex Mainwarings for a month; after that, I hope that + she will give me a long visit. I do not know where one could + find a sweeter girl, or one more eminently calculated to + make a man happy. Beautiful, strictly speaking, she is not, + perhaps, but of excellent connections, not without a + portion, young, clever, and ambitious. With such a wife, my + dear Arnold, a man may aspire to anything." + +"To anything!" repeated Arnold; "what is her notion of anything? She +has arrived by this time." He looked at his watch and found it was +past five. "I ought to have been at the station to meet her. I must go +round and see her, and I must dine with her to-night." He sighed +heavily. "It would be much pleasanter to spend the evening with Iris." + +Then a carriage stopped at his door. It was his cousin, and the next +minute he was receiving and giving the kiss of welcome. For his own +part, he felt guilty, because he could put so little heart into that +kiss, compared with all previous embraces. She was a stout, hearty +little woman, who could never have been in the least beautiful, even +when she was young. Now on the middle line, between forty and fifty, +she looked as if her face had been chopped out of the marble by a rude +but determined artist, one who knew what he wanted and would tolerate +no conventional work. So that her face, at all events, was, if not +unique, at least unlike any other face one had ever seen. Most faces, +we know, can be reduced to certain general types--even Iris's face +might be classified--while of yours, my brother, there are, no doubt, +multitudes. Miss Holland, however, had good eyes--bright, clear +gray--the eyes of a woman who knows what she wants and means to get it +if she can. + +"Well, my dear," she said, taking the one comfortable chair in the +studio, "I am back again, and I have enjoyed my journey very much; we +will have all the travels this evening. You are looking splendid, +Arnold!" + +"I am very well indeed. And you, Clara? But I need not ask." + +"No, I am always well. I told you about dear Stella, did I not? I +never had a more delightful companion." + +"So glad you liked her." + +"If only, Arnold, you would like her too. But I know"--for Arnold +changed color--"I know one must not interfere in these matters. But +surely one may go so far with a young man one loves as to say, 'Here +is a girl of a million.' There is not, Arnold, I declare, her equal +anywhere; a clearer head I never met, or a better educated girl, or +one who knows what a man can do, and how he can be helped to do it." + +"Thank you, Clara," Arnold said coldly; "I dare say I shall discover +the young lady's perfections in time." + +"Not, I think, without some help. She is not an ordinary girl. You +must draw her out, my dear boy." + +"I will," he said listlessly. "I will try to draw her out, if you +like." + +"We talked a great deal of you, Arnold," Clara went on. "I confided to +her some of my hopes and ambitions for you; and I am free to confess +to you that she has greatly modified all my plans and calculations." + +"Oh!" Arnold was interested in this "But, my dear Clara, I have my +profession. I must follow my profession." + +"Surely--surely! Listen, Arnold, patiently. Anybody can become an +artist--anybody, of course, who has the genius. And all kinds of +people, gutter people, have the genius." + +"The sun," said Arnold, just as if he had been Lala Roy, "shines on +all alike." + +"Quite so; and there is an immense enthusiasm for art everywhere; but +there is no art leader. There is no one man recognized as the man most +competent to speak on art of every kind. Think of that. It is Stella's +idea entirely. This man, when he is found, will sway enormous +authority; he will become, if he has a wife able to assist him, an +immense social power." + +"And you want me to become that man?" + +"Yes, Arnold. I do not see why you should not become that man. Cease +to think of becoming President of the Royal Academy, yet go on +painting; prove your genius, so as to command respect; cultivate the +art of public speaking; and look about for a wife who will be your +right hand. Think of this seriously. This is only a rough sketch, we +can fill in the details afterward. But think of it. Oh, my dear boy! +if I were only a man, and five-and-twenty, with such a chance before +me! What a glorious career is yours, if you choose! But of course you +will choose. Good gracious, Arnold! who is that?" + +She pointed to the canvas on the easel, where Iris's face was like the +tale of Cambuscan, half told. + +"It is no one you know, Clara." + +"One of your models?" She rose and examined it more closely through +her glasses. "The eyes are wonderful, Arnold. They are eyes I know. As +if I could ever forget them! They are the same eyes, exactly the same +eyes. I have never met with any like them before. They are the eyes of +my poor, lost, betrayed Claude Deseret. Where did you pick up this +girl, Arnold? Is she a common model?" + +"Not at all. She is not a model. She is a young lady who teaches by +correspondence. She is my tutor--of course I have so often talked to +you about her--who taught me the science of Heraldry, and wrote me +such charming letters." + +"Your tutor! You said your tutor was an old gentleman." + +"So I thought, Clara. But I was wrong. My tutor is a young lady, and +this is her portrait, half-finished. It does not do her any kind of +justice." + +"A young lady!" She looked suspiciously at Arnold, whose telltale +cheek flushed. "A young lady! Indeed! And you have made her +acquaintance." + +"As you see, Clara; and she does me the honor to let me paint her +portrait." + +"What is her name, Arnold?" + +"She is a Miss Aglen." + +"Strange. The Deserets once intermarried with the Aglens. I wonder if +she is any connection. They were Warwickshire Aglens. But it is +impossible--a teacher by correspondence, a mere private governess! Who +are her people?" + +"She lives with her grandfather. I think her father was a tutor or +journalist of some kind, but he is dead; and her grandfather keeps a +second-hand bookshop in the King's Road close by." + +"A bookshop! But you said, Arnold, that she was a young lady." + +"So she is, Clara," he replied simply. + +"Arnold!" for the first time in his life Arnold saw his cousin angry +with him. She was constantly being angry with other people, but never +before had she been angry with him. "Arnold, spare me this nonsense. +If you have been playing with this shop-girl I cannot help it, and I +beg that you will tell me no more about it, and do not, to my face, +speak of her as a lady." + +"I have not been playing with her, I think," said Arnold gravely; "I +have been very serious with her." + +"Everybody nowadays is a young lady. The girl who gives you a cup of +tea in a shop; the girl who dances in the ballet; the girl who makes +your dresses." + +"In that case, Clara, you need not mind my calling Miss Aglen a young +lady." + +"There is one word left, at least: women of my class are gentlewomen." + +"Miss Aglen is a gentlewoman." + +"Arnold, look me in the face. My dear boy, tell me, are you mad? Oh, +think of my poor unhappy Claude, what he did, and what he must have +suffered!" + +"I know what he did. I do not know what he suffered. My case, however, +is different from his. I am not engaged to any one." + +"Arnold, think of the great scheme of life I have drawn out for you. +My dear boy, would you throw that all away?" + +She laid her hands upon his arm and looked in his eyes with a pitiful +gaze. He took her hands in his. + +"My dear, every man must shape his life for himself, or must live out +the life shaped for him by his fate, not by his friends. What if I see +a life more delightful to me than that of which you dream?" + +"You talk of a delightful life, Arnold; I spoke of an honorable +career." + +"Mine will be a life of quiet work and love. Yours, Clara, would be of +noisy and troublesome work without love." + +"Without love, Arnold? You are infatuated." + +She sunk into the chair and buried her face in her hands. First, it +was her lover who had deserted her for the sake of a governess, the +daughter of some London tradesman; and now her adopted son, almost the +only creature she loved, for whom she had schemed and thought for +nearly twenty years, was ready to give up everything for the sake of +another governess, also connected with the lower forms of commercial +interests. + +"It is very hard, Arnold," she said. "No, don't try to persuade me. I +am getting an old woman, and it is too late for me to learn that a +gentleman can be happy unless he marries a lady. You might as well ask +me to look for happiness with a grocer." + +"Not quite," said Arnold. + +"It is exactly the same thing. Pray, have you proposed to this--this +young lady of the second-hand bookshop?" + +"No, I have not." + +"You are in love with her, however?" + +"I am, Clara." + +"And you intend to ask her--in the shop, I dare say, among the +second-hand books--to become your wife?" + +"That is my serious intention, Clara." + +"Claude did the same thing. His father remonstrated with him in vain, +he took his wife to London, where, for a time, he lived in misery and +self-reproach." + +"Do you know that he reproached himself?" + +"I know what must have happened when he found out his mistake. Then he +went to America, where he died, no doubt in despair, although his +father had forgiven him." + +"The cases are hardly parallel," said Arnold. "Still, will you permit +me to introduce Miss Aglen to you, if she should do me the honor of +accepting me? Be generous, Clara. Do not condemn the poor girl without +seeing her." + +"I condemn no one--I judge no one, not even you, Arnold. But I will +not receive that young woman." + +"Very well, Clara." + +"How shall you live, Arnold?" she asked coldly. + +It was the finishing stroke--the dismissal. + +"I suppose we shall not marry; but, of course, I am talking as if--" + +"As if she was ready to jump into your arms. Go on." + +"We shall not marry until I have made some kind of a beginning in my +work. Clara, let us have no further explanation. I understand +perfectly well. But, my dear Clara," he laid his arm upon her neck and +kissed her, "I shall not let you quarrel with me. I owe you too much, +and I love you too well. I am always your most faithful of servants." + +"No; till you are married--then--Oh, Arnold! Arnold!" + +A less strong-minded woman would have burst into tears. Clara did not. +She got into her carriage and drove home. She spent a miserable +evening and a sleepless night. But she did not cry. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +ON BATTERSEA TERRACE. + + +If a woman were to choose any period of her life which she pleased, +for indefinite prolongation, she would certainly select that period +which lies between the first perception of the first symptoms--when +she begins to understand that a man has begun to love her--and the day +when he tells her so. + +Yet women who look back to this period with so much fondness and +regret forget their little tremors and misgivings--the self-distrust, +the hopes and fears, the doubts and perplexities, which troubled this +time. For although it is acknowledged, and has been taught by all +philosophers from King Lemuel and Lao-Kiun downward, that no greater +prize can be gained by any man than the love of a good woman, which is +better than a Peerage--better than a Bonanza mine--better than Name +and Fame, Kudos and the newspaper paragraph, and is arrived at by much +less exertion, being indeed the special gift of the gods to those +they love; yet all women perfectly understand the other side to this +great truth--namely, that no greater happiness can fall to any woman +than the love of a good man. So that, in all the multitudinous and +delightful courtships which go on around us, and in our midst, there +is, on both sides, both with man and with maid, among those who truly +reach to the right understanding of what this great thing may mean, a +continual distrust of self, with humility and anxiety. And when, as +sometimes happens, a girl has been brought up in entire ignorance of +love, so that the thought of it has never entered her head, the thing +itself, when it falls upon her, is overwhelming, and infolds her as +with a garment from head to foot, and, except to her lover, she +becomes as a sealed fountain. I know not how long this season of +expectation would have lasted for Iris, but for Arnold's conversation +with his cousin, which persuaded him to speak and bring matters to a +final issue. To this girl, living as secluded as if she was in an +Oriental harem, who had never thought of love as a thing possible for +herself, the consciousness that Arnold loved her was bewildering and +astonishing, and she waited, knowing that sooner or later something +would be said, but trembling for fear that it should be said. + +After all, it was Lala Roy, and not Clara, who finally determined +Arnold to wait no longer. + +He came every day to the studio with Iris when she sat for her +portrait. This was in the afternoon. But he now got into the habit of +coming in the morning, and would sit in silence looking on. He came +partly because he liked the young man, and partly because the +painter's art was new to him, and it amused him to watch a man giving +his whole time and intellect to the copying or faces and things on +canvas. Also, he was well aware by this time that it was not to see +Mr. Emblem or himself that Arnold spent every evening at the house, +and he was amused to watch the progress of an English courtship. In +India, we know, they manage matters differently, and so as to give the +bridegroom no more trouble than is necessary. This young man, however, +took, he observed, the most wonderful pains and the most extraordinary +trouble to please. + +"Do you know, Lala Roy," Arnold said one morning after a silence of +three hours or so, "do you know that this is going to be the portrait +of the most beautiful woman in the world, and the best?" + +"It is well," said the Philosopher, "when a young man desires virtue +as well as beauty." + +"You have known her all her life. Don't trouble yourself to speak, +Lala. You can nod your head if there isn't a maxim ready. You began to +lodge in the house twenty years ago, and you have seen her every day +since. If she is not the best, as well as the most beautiful girl in +the world, you ought to know and can contradict me. But you do know +it." + +"Happy is the man," said the Sage, "who shall call her wife; happy the +children who shall call her mother." + +"I suppose, Lala," Arnold went on with an ingenuous blush, "I suppose +that you have perceived that--that--in fact--I love her." + +The Philosopher inclined his head. + +"Do you think--you who know her so well--that she suspects or knows +it?" + +"The thoughts of a maiden are secret thoughts. As well may one search +for the beginnings of a river as inquire into the mind of a woman. +Their ways are not our ways, nor are their thoughts ours, nor have we +wit to understand, nor have they tongue to utter the things they +think. I know not whether she suspects." + +"Yet you have had experience, Lala Roy?" + +A smile stole over the Sage's features. + +"In the old days when I was young, I had experience, as all men have. +I have had many wives. Yet to me, as to all others, the thoughts of +the harem are unknown." + +"Yet, Iris--surely you know the thoughts of Iris, your pupil." + +"I know only that her heart is the abode of goodness, and that she +knows not any evil thought. Young man, beware. Trouble not the clear +fountain." + +"Heaven knows," said Arnold, "I would not--" And here he stopped. + +"Youth," said the Sage presently, "is the season for love. Enjoy the +present happiness. Woman is made to be loved. Receive with gratitude +what Heaven gives. The present moment is your own. Defer not until the +evening what you may accomplish at noon." + +With these words the oracle became silent, and Arnold sat down and +began to think it all over again. + +An hour later he presented himself at the house in the King's Road. +Iris was alone, and she was playing. + +"You, Arnold? It is early for you." + +"Forgive me, Iris, for breaking in on your afternoon; but I +thought--it is a fine afternoon--I thought that, perhaps--You have +never taken a walk with me." + +She blushed, I think in sympathy with Arnold, who looked confused and +stammered, and then she said she would go with him. + +They left the King's Road by the Royal Avenue, where the leaves were +already thin and yellow, and passed through the Hospital and its broad +grounds down to the river-side; then they turned to the right, and +walked along the embankment, where are the great new red houses, to +Cheyne Walk, and so across the Suspension Bridge. Arnold did not speak +one word the whole way. His heart was so full that he could not trust +himself to speak. Who would not be four-and-twenty again, even with +all the risks and dangers of life before one, the set traps, the +gaping holes, and the treacherous quicksands, if it were only to feel +once more the overwhelming spirit of the mysterious goddess of the +golden cestus? In silence they walked side by side over the bridge. +Half-way across, they stopped and looked up the river. The tide was +running in with a swift current, and the broad river was nearly at the +full; the strong September sun fell upon the water, which was broken +into little waves under a fresh breeze meeting the current from the +north-west. There were lighters and barges majestically creeping up +stream, some with brown three-cornered sails set in the bows and +stern, some slowly moving with the tide, their bows kept steady by +long oars, and some, lashed one to the other, forming a long train, +and pulled along by a noisy little tug, all paddle wheel and engine. +There was a sculler vigorously practicing for his next race, and +dreaming, perhaps, of sending a challenge to Hanlan; there were some +boys in a rowing-boat, laughing and splashing each other; on the north +bank there was the garden of the Embankment, with its young trees +still green, for the summer lasted into late September this year, and, +beyond, the red brick tower of the old church, with its flag post on +the top. These details are never so carefully marked as when one is +anxious, and fully absorbed in things of great importance. Perhaps +Arnold had crossed the bridge a hundred times before, but to day, for +the first time, he noticed the common things of the river. One may be +an artist, and yet may miss the treasures that lie at the very feet. +This is a remark which occurs to one with each new Academy Show. With +every tide the boats go up and down with their brown sails, and always +the tower of Chelsea Church rises above the trees, and the broad river +never forgets to sparkle and to glow in the sunshine when it gets the +chance. Such common things are for the most part unheeded, but, when +the mind is anxious and full, they force themselves upon one. Arnold +watched boats, and river, and sunshine on the sails, with a strange +interest and wonder, as one sees visions in a dream. He had seen all +these things before, yet now he noticed them for the first time, and +all the while he was thinking what he should say to Iris, and how he +should approach the subject. I know not whether Iris, like him, saw +one thing and noticed another. The thoughts of a maiden, as Lala Roy +said, are secret thoughts. She looked upon the river from the bridge +with Arnold. When he turned, she turned with him, and neither spoke. + +They left the bridge, and passed through the wooden gate at the +Battersea end of it, and across the corner where the stone columns +lie, like an imitation of Tadmor in the Desert, and so to the broad +terrace overlooking the river. + +There is not, anywhere, a more beautiful terrace than this of +Battersea Park, especially when the tide is high. Before it lies the +splendid river, with the barges which Arnold had seen from the bridge. +They are broad, and flat, and sometimes squat, and sometimes black +with coal, and sometimes they go up and down sideways, in lubberly +Dutch fashion, but they are always picturesque; and beyond the river +is the Embankment, with its young trees, which will before many years +be tall and stately trees; and behind the trees are the new red +palaces; and above the houses, at this time of the year and day, are +the flying clouds, already colored with the light of the sinking sun. +Behind the terrace are the trees, and lawns of the best-kept park in +London. + +In the afternoon of a late September day, there are not many who walk +in these gardens. Arnold and Iris had the terrace almost to +themselves, save for half-a-dozen girls with children, and two or +three old men making the most of the last summer they were ever likely +to see, though it would have been cruel to tell them so. + +"This is your favorite walk, Iris," said Arnold at last, breaking the +silence. + +"Yes; I come here very often. It is my garden. Sometimes in the +winter, and when the east wind blows up the river, I have it all to +myself." + +"A quiet life, Iris," he said, "and a happy life." + +"Yes; a happy life." + +"Iris, will you change it for a life which will not be so quiet?" He +took her hand, but she made no reply. "I must tell you, Iris, because +I cannot keep it from you any longer. I love you--oh, my dear, I +cannot tell you how I love you." + +"Oh, Arnold!" she whispered. It had come, the thing she feared to +hear! + +"May I go on? I have told you now the most important thing, and the +rest matters little. Oh, Iris, may I go on and tell you all?" + +"Go on," she said; "tell me all." + +"As for telling you everything," He said with a little laugh, "that is +no new thing. I have told you all that is in my mind for a year and +more. It seems natural that I should tell you this too, even if it did +not concern you at all, but some other girl; though that would be +impossible. I love you, Iris; I love you--I should like to say nothing +more. But I must tell you as well that I am quite a poor man; I am an +absolute pauper; I have nothing at all--no money, no work, nothing. My +studio and all must go back to her; and yet, Iris, in spite of this, I +am so selfish as to tell you that I love you. I would give you, if I +could, the most delightful palace in the world, and I offer you a +share in the uncertain life of an artist, who does not know whether he +has any genius, or whether he is fit even to be called an artist." + +She gave him her hand with the frankness which was her chief charm, +and with a look in her eyes so full of trust and truth that his heart +sunk within him for very fear lest he should prove unworthy of so much +confidence. + +"Oh, Arnold," she said, "I think that I have loved you all along, ever +since you began to write to me. And yet I never thought that love +would come to me." + +He led her into that bosky grove set with seats convenient for lovers, +which lies romantically close to the Italian Restaurant, where they +sell the cocoa and the ginger beer. There was no one in the place +besides themselves, and here, among the falling leaves, and in a +solitude as profound as on the top of a Dartmoor tor, Arnold told the +story of his love again, and with greater coherence, though even more +passion. + +"Oh," said Iris again, "how could you love me, Arnold--how could you +love any girl so? It is a shame, Arnold; we are not worth so much. +Could any woman," she thought, "be worth the wealth of passion and +devotion which her lover poured out for her?" + +"My tutor," he went on, "if you only knew what things you have taught +me, a man of experience! If I admired you when I thought you must be a +man, and pictured an old scholar full of books and wisdom, what could +I do when I found that a young girl had written those letters? You +gave mine back to me; did you think that I would ever part with yours? +And you owned--oh, Iris, what would not the finished woman of the +world give to have the secret of your power?--you owned that you knew +all my letters, every one, by heart. And after all, you will love me, +your disciple and pupil, and a man who has his way to make from the +very beginning and first round of the ladder. Think, Iris, first. Is +it right to throw away so much upon a man who is worth so little?" + +"But I am glad that you are poor. If you were rich I should have been +afraid--oh, not of you, Arnold--never of you, but of your people. And, +besides it is so good--oh, so very good for a young man--a young man +of the best kind, not my cousin's kind--to be poor. Nobody ought ever +to be allowed to become rich before he is fifty years of age at the +very least. Because now you will have to work in earnest, and you will +become a great artist--yes, a truly great artist, and we shall be +proud of you." + +"You shall make of me what you please, and what you can. For your +sake, Iris, I wish I were another Raphael. You are my mistress and my +queen. Bid me to die, and I will dare--Iris, I swear that the words of +the extravagant old song are real to me." + +"Nay," she said, "not your queen, but your servant always. Surely love +cannot command. But, I think," she added softly, with a tender blush; +"I think--nay, I am sure and certain that it can obey." + +He stooped and kissed her fingers. + +"My love," he murmured; "my love--my love!" + +The shadows lengthened and the evening fell; but those two foolish +people sat side by side, and hand in hand, and what they said further +we need not write down, because to tell too much of what young lovers +whisper to each other is a kind of sacrilege. + +At last Arnold became aware that the sun was actually set, and he +sprung to his feet. + +They walked home again across the Suspension Bridge. In the western +sky was hanging a huge bank of cloud all bathed in purple, red and +gold; the river was ablaze; the barges floated in a golden haze; the +light shone on their faces, and made them all glorious, like the face +of Moses, for they, too, had stood--nay, they were still standing--at +the very gates of Heaven. + +"See, Iris," said the happy lover, "the day is done; your old life is +finished; it has been a happy time, and it sets in glory and splendor. +The red light in the west is a happy omen of the day to come." + +So he took her hand, and led her over the river, and then to his own +studio in Tite Street. There, in the solemn twilight, he held her in +his arms, and renewed the vows of love with kisses and fond caresses. + +"Iris, my dear--my dear--you are mine and I am yours. What have I done +to deserve this happy fate?" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE DISCOVERY. + + +At nine o'clock that evening, Mr. Emblem looked up from the chess +board. + +"Where is Mr. Arbuthnot this evening, my dear?" he asked. + +It would be significant in some houses when a young man is expected +every evening. Iris blushed, and said that perhaps he was not coming. +But he was, and his step was on the stair as she spoke. + +"You are late, Mr. Arbuthnot," said Mr. Emblem, reproachfully, "you +are late, sir, and somehow we get no music now until you come. Play us +something, Iris. It is my move, Lala--" + +Iris opened the piano and Arnold sat down beside her, and their eyes +met. There was in each the consciousness of what had passed. + +"I shall speak to him to-night, Iris," Arnold whispered. "I have +already written to my cousin. Do not be hurt if she does not call upon +you." + +"Nothing of that sort will hurt me," Iris said, being ignorant of +social ways, and without the least ambition to rise in the world. "If +your cousin does not call upon me I shall not be disappointed. Why +should she want to know me? But I am sorry, Arnold, that she is angry +with you." + +Lala Roy just then found himself in presence of a most beautiful +problem--white to move and checkmate in three moves. Mr. Emblem found +the meshes of fate closing round him earlier than usual, and both bent +their heads closely over the table. + +"Checkmate!" said Lala Roy. "My friend, you have played badly this +evening." + +"I have played badly," Mr. Emblem replied, "because to-morrow will be +an important day for Iris, and for myself. A day, Iris, that I have +been looking forward to for eighteen years, ever since I got your +father's last letter, written upon his death-bed. It seems a long +time, but like a lifetime," said the old man of seventy-five, "it is +as nothing when it is gone. Eighteen years, and you were a little +thing of three, child!" + +"What is going to happen to me, grandfather, except that I shall be +twenty-one?" + +"We shall see to-morrow. Patience, my dear--patience." + +He spread out his hands and laughed. What was going to happen to +himself was a small thing compared with the restoration of Iris to her +own. + +"Mr. Emblem," said Arnold, "I also have something of importance to +say." + +"You, too, Mr. Arbuthnot? Cannot yours wait also until to-morrow?" + +"No; it is too important. It cannot wait an hour." + +"Well, sir"--Mr. Emblem pushed up his spectacles and leaned back in +his chair--"well, Mr. Arbuthnot, let us have it." + +"I think you may guess what I have to say, Mr. Emblem. I am sure that +Lala Roy has already guessed it." + +The philosopher inclined his head in assent. + +"It is that I have this afternoon asked Iris to marry me, Mr. Emblem. +And she has consented." + +"Have you consented, Iris, my dear?" said her grandfather. + +She placed her hand in Arnold's for reply. + +"Do you think you know him well enough, my dear?" Mr. Emblem asked +gravely, looking at her lover. "Marriage is a serious thing: it is a +partnership for life. Children, think well before you venture on the +happiness or ruin of your whole lives. And you are so young. What a +pity--what a thousand pities that people were not ordained to marry at +seventy or so!" + +"We have thought well," said Arnold. "Iris has faith in me." + +"Then, young man, I have nothing to say. Iris will marry to please +herself, and I pray that she may be happy. As for you, I like your +face and manners, but I do not know who you are, nor what your means +may be. Remember that I am poor--I am so poor--I can tell you all now, +that to-morrow we shall--well, patience--to-morrow I shall most likely +have my very stock seized and sold." + +"Your stock sold? Oh, grandfather!" cried Iris; "and you did not tell +me! And I have been so happy." + +"Friend," said Lala, "was it well to hide this from me?" + +"Foolish people," Mr. Emblem went on, "have spread reports that I am +rich, and have saved money for Iris. It is not true, Mr. Arbuthnot. I +am not rich. Iris will come to you empty-handed." + +"And as for me, I have nothing," said Arnold, "except a pair of hands +and all the time there is. So we have all to gain and nothing to +lose." + +"You have your profession," said Iris, "and I have mine. Grandfather, +do not fear, even though we shall all four become poor together." + +It seemed natural to include Lala Roy, who had been included with them +for twenty years. + +"As for Iris being empty-handed," said Arnold, "how can that ever be? +Why, she carries in her hands an inexhaustible cornucopia, full of +precious things." + +"My dear," said the old man, holding out his arms to her, "I could not +keep you always. Some day I knew you would leave me; it is well that +you should leave me when I am no longer able to keep a roof over your +head." + +"But we shall find a roof for you, grandfather, somewhere. We shall +never part." + +"The best of girls always," said Mr. Emblem; "the best of girls! Mr. +Arbuthnot, you are a happy man." + +Then the Sage lifted up his voice and said solemnly: + +"On her tongue dwelleth music; the sweetness of honey floweth from her +lips; humility is like a crown of glory about her head; her eye +speaketh softness and love; her husband putteth his heart in her bosom +and findeth joy." + +"Oh, you are all too good to me," murmured Iris. + +"A friend of mine," said Mr. Emblem, "now, like nearly all my friends, +beneath the sod, used to say that a good marriage was a happy blending +of the finest Wallsend with the most delicate Silkstone. But he was in +the coal trade. For my own part I have always thought that it is like +the binding of two scarce volumes into one." + +"Oh, not second-hand volumes, grandfather," said Iris. + +"I don't know. Certainly not new ones. Not volumes under +one-and-twenty, if you please. Mr. Arbuthnot, I am glad; you will know +why very soon. I am very glad that Iris made her choice before her +twenty-first birthday. Whatever may happen now, no one can say that +either of you was influenced by any expectations. You both think +yourself paupers; well, I say nothing, because I know nothing. But, +children, if a great thing happen to you, and that before +four-and-twenty hours have passed, be prepared--be prepared, I say--to +receive it with moderate rejoicing." + +"To-morrow?" Iris asked. "Why to-morrow? Why not to-night, if you have +a secret to tell us?" + +"Your father enjoined in his last letter to wait till you were +twenty-one. The eve of your birthday, however, is the same thing as +your birthday. We will open the papers to-night. What I have to tell +you, Iris, shall be told in the presence of your lover, whatever it +is--good or bad." + +He led the way down-stairs into the back shop. Here he lit the gas, +and began to open his case, slowly and cautiously. + +"Eighteen years ago, Iris, my child, I received your father's last +letter, written on his death bed. This I have already told you. He set +down, in that letter, several things which surprised me very much. We +shall come to these things presently. He also laid down certain +instructions for your bringing up, my dear. I was, first of all, to +give you as good an education as I could afford; I was to keep you as +much as possible separated from companions who might not be thought +afterward fit to be the friends of a young lady. You have as good an +education as Lala Roy and I could devise between us. From him you have +learned mathematics, so as to steady your mind and make you exact; and +you have learned the science of heraldry from me, so that you may at +once step into your own place in the polite world, where, no doubt, it +is a familiar and a necessary study. You have also learned music, +because that is an accomplishment which every one should possess. What +more can any girl want for any station? My dear, I am happy to think +that a gentleman is your lover. Let him tell us, now--Lala Roy and +me--to our very faces, if he thinks we have, between us, made you a +lady." + +Arnold stooped and kissed her hand. + +"There is no more perfect lady," he said, "in all the land." + +"Iris's father, Mr. Arbuthnot, was a gentleman of honorable and +ancient family, and I will tell you, presently, as soon as I find it +out myself, his real name. As for his coat-of-arms, he bore Quarterly, +first and fourth, two roses and a boar's head erect; second and third, +gules and fesse between--strange, now that I have forgotten what it +was between. Everybody calls himself a gentleman nowadays; even Mr. +Chalker, who is going to sell me up, I suppose; but everybody, if you +please, is not armiger. Iris, your father was armiger. I suppose I am +a gentleman on Sundays, when I go to church with Iris, and wear a +black coat. But your father, my dear, though he married my daughter, +was a gentleman by birth. And one who knows heraldry respects a +gentleman by birth." He laid his hand now on the handle of the safe, +as if the time were nearly come for opening it, but not quite. "He +sent me, with this last letter, a small parcel for you, my dear, not +to be opened until you reached the age of twenty-one. As for the +person who had succeeded to his inheritance, she was to be left in +peaceable possession for a reason which he gave--quite a romantic +story, which I will tell you presently--until you came of age. He was +very urgent on this point. If, however, any disaster of sickness or +misfortune fell upon me, I was to act in your interests at once, +without waiting for time. Children," the old man added solemnly, "by +the blessing of Heaven--I cannot take it as anything less--I have been +spared in health and fortune until this day. Now let me depart in +peace, for my trust is expired, and my child is safe, her inheritance +secured, with a younger and better protector." He placed the key in +the door of the safe. "I do not know, mind," he said, still hesitating +to take the final step; "I do not know the nature of the inheritance; +it may be little or maybe great. The letter does not inform me on this +point. I do not even know the name of the testator, my son-in-law's +father. Nor do I know the name of my daughter's husband. I do not even +know your true name, Iris, my child. But it is not Aglen." + +"Then, have I been going under a false name all my life?" + +"It was the name your father chose to bear for reasons which seemed +good and sufficient to him, and these are part of the story which I +shall have to tell you. Will you have this story first, or shall we +first open the safe and read the contents of the parcel?" + +"First," said Arnold, "let us sit down and look in each other's +faces." + +It was a practical suggestion. But, as it proved, it was an unlucky +one, because it deprived them of the story. + +"Iris," he said, while they waited, "this is truly wonderful!" + +"Oh, Arnold! What am I to do with an inheritance?" + +"That depends on what it is. Perhaps it is a landed estate; in which +case we shall not be much better off, and can go on with our work; +perhaps there will be houses; perhaps it will be thousands of pounds, +and perhaps hundreds. Shall we build a castle in the air to suit our +inheritance?" + +"Yes; let us pretend. Oh, grandfather, stop one moment! Our castle, +Arnold, shall be, first of all, the most beautiful studio in the world +for you. You shall have tapestry, blue china, armor, lovely glass, +soft carpets, carved doors and painted panels, a tall mantelshelf, +old wooden cabinets, silver cups, and everything else what one ought +to like, and you shall choose everything for yourself, and never get +tired of it. But you must go on painting; you must never stop working, +because we must be proud of you as well that you like. Oh, but I have +not done yet. My grandfather is to have two rooms for himself, which +he can fill with the books he will spend his time in collecting; Lala +Roy will have two more rooms, quite separate, where he can sit by +himself whenever he does not choose to sit with me; I shall have my +own study to myself, where I shall go on reading mathematics; and we +shall all have, between us, the most beautiful dining-room and +drawing-room that you ever saw; and a garden and a fountain, +and--yes--money to give to people who are not so fortunate as +ourselves. Will that do, Arnold?" + +"Yes, but you have almost forgotten yourself, dear. There must be +carriages for you, and jewels, and dainty things all your own, and a +boudoir, and nobody shall think of doing or saying anything in the +house at all, except for your pleasure; will that do, Iris?" + +"I suppose we shall have to give parties of some kind, and to go to +them. Perhaps one may get to like society. You will teach me +lawn-tennis, Arnold; and I should like, I think, to learn dancing. I +suppose I must leave off making my own dresses, though I know that I +shall never be so well dressed if I do. And about the cakes and +puddings--but, oh, there is enough pretending." + +"It is difficult," said Lala Roy, "to bear adversity. But to be +temperate in prosperity is the height of wisdom." + +"And now suppose, Iris," said Arnold "that the inheritance, instead +of being thousands a year, is only a few hundreds." + +"Ah, then, Arnold, it will be ever so much simpler. We shall have +something to live upon until you begin to make money for us all." + +"Yes; that is very simple. But suppose, again, that the inheritance is +nothing but a small sum of money." + +"Why, then," said Iris, "we will give it all to grandfather, who will +pay off his creditor, and we will go on as if nothing had happened." + +"Child!" said Mr. Emblem, "do you think that I would take your little +all?" + +"And suppose, again," Arnold went on, "that the inheritance turns out +a delusion, and that there is nothing at all?" + +"That cannot be supposed," said Mr. Emblem quickly; "that is absurd!" + +"If it were," said Iris, "we shall only be, to-morrow, just exactly +what we are to-day. I am a teacher by correspondence, with five +pupils. Arnold is looking for art-work, which will pay; and between +us, my dear grandfather and Lala Roy, we are going to see that you +want nothing." + +Always Lala Roy with her grandfather, as if their interests were +identical, and, indeed, he had lived so long with them that Iris could +not separate the two old men. + +"We will all live together," Iris continued, "and when our fortune is +made we will all live in a palace. And now, grandfather, that we have +relieved our feelings, shall we have the story and the opening of the +papers in the safe?" + +"Which will you have first?" Mr. Emblem asked again. + +"Oh, the safe," said Arnold. "The story can wait. Let us examine the +contents of the safe." + +"The story," said Mr. Emblem, "is nearly all told in your father's +letter, my dear. But there is a little that I would tell you first, +before I read that letter. You know, Iris, that I have never been +rich; my shop has kept me up till now, but I have never been able to +put by money. Well--my daughter Alice, your poor mother, my dear, who +was as good and clever as you are, was determined to earn her own +living, and so she went out as a governess. And one day she came home +with her husband; she had been married the day before, and she told me +they had very little money, and her husband was a scholar and a +gentleman, and wanted to get work by writing. He got some, but not +enough, and they were always in a poor way, until one day he got a +letter from America--it was while the Civil War was raging--from an +old Oxford friend, inviting him to emigrate and try fortune as a +journalist out there. He went, and his wife was to join him. But she +died, my dear; your mother died, and a year later I had your father's +last letter, which I am now going to read to you." + +"One moment, sir," said Arnold. "Before you open the safe and take out +the papers, remember that Iris and I can take nothing--nothing at all +for ourselves until all your troubles are tided over." + +"Children--children," cried Mr. Emblem. + +"Go, my son, to the Desert," observed the Sage, standing solemnly +upright like a Prophet of Israel. "Observe the young stork of the +wilderness, how he beareth on his wings his aged sire and supplieth +him with food. The piety of a child is sweeter than the incense of +Persia offered to the sun; yea, more delicious is it than the odors +from a field of Arabian spice." + +"Thank you, Lala," said Mr. Emblem. "And now, children, we will +discover the mystery." + +He unlocked the safe and threw it open with somewhat of a theatrical +air. "The roll of papers." He took it out. "'For Iris to be opened on +her twenty-first birthday.' And this is the eve of it. But where is +the letter? I tied the letter round it, with a piece of tape. Very +strange. I am sure I tied the letter with a piece of tape. Perhaps it +was--Where is the letter?" + +He peered about in the safe; there was nothing else in it except a few +old account books; but he could not find the letter! Where could it +be? + +"I remember," he said--"most distinctly I remember tying up the +letter with the parcel. Where can it be gone to?" + +A feeling of trouble to come seized him. He was perfectly sure he had +tied up the letter with the parcel, and here was the parcel without +the letter, and no one had opened the safe except himself. + +"Never mind about the letter, grandfather," said Iris; "we shall find +that afterward." + +"Well, then, let us open the parcel." + +It was a packet about the size of a crown-octavo volume, in brown +paper, carefully fastened up with gum, and on the face of it was a +white label inscribed: "For Iris, to be opened on her twenty-first +birthday." Everybody in turn took it, weighed it, so to speak, looked +at it curiously, and read the legend. Then they returned it to Mr. +Emblem, who laid it before him and produced a penknife. With this, as +carefully and solemnly as if he were offering up a sacrifice or +performing a religious function, he cut the parcel straight through. + +"After eighteen years," he said; "after eighteen years. The ink will +be faded and the papers yellow. But we shall see the certificates of +the marriage and of your baptism, Iris; there will also be letters to +different people, and a true account of the rupture with his father, +and the cause, of which his letter spoke. And of course we shall find +out what was his real name and what is the kind of inheritance which +has been waiting for you so long, my dear. Now then." + +The covering incase of the packet was a kind of stiff cardboard or +millboard, within brown paper. Mr. Emblem laid it open. It was full of +folded papers. He took up the first and opened it. The paper was +blank. The next, it was blank; the third, it was blank; the fourth, +and fifth, and sixth, and so on throughout. The case, which had been +waiting so long, waiting for eighteen years, to be opened on Iris's +twenty-first birthday, was full of blank papers. They were all half +sheets of note-paper. + +Mr. Emblem looked surprised at the first two or three papers; then he +turned pale; then he rushed at the rest. When he had opened all, he +stared about him with bewilderment. + +"Where is the letter?" he asked again. Then he began with trembling +hands to tear out the contents of the safe and spread them upon the +table. The letter was nowhere. + +"I am certain," he said, for the tenth time, "I am quite certain that +I tied up the letter with red tape, outside the packet. And no one has +been at the safe except me." + +"Tell us," said Arnold, "the contents of the letter as well as you +remember them. Your son-in-law was known to you under the name of +Aglen, which was not his real name. Did he tell you his real name?" + +"No." + +"What did he tell you? Do you remember the letter?" + +"I remember every word of the letter." + +"If you dictate it, I will write it down. That may be a help." + +Mr. Emblem began quickly, and as if he was afraid of forgetting: + +"'When you read these lines, I shall be in the Silent Land, whither +Alice, my wife, has gone before me.'" + +Then Mr. Emblem began to stammer. + +"'In one small thing we deceived you, Alice and I. My name is not +Aglen'--is not Aglen--" + +And here a strange thing happened. His memory failed him at this +point. + +"Take time," said Arnold; "there is no hurry." + +Mr. Emblem shook his head. + +"I shall remember the rest to-morrow, perhaps," he said. + +"Is there anything else you have to help us?" asked Arnold: "never +mind the letter, Mr. Emblem. No doubt that will come back presently. +You see we want to find out, first, who Iris's father really was, and +what is her real name. There was his coat-of-arms. That will connect +her with some family, though it may be a family with many branches." + +"Yes--oh yes! his coat-of-arms. I have seen his signet-ring a dozen +times. Yes, his coat; yes, first and fourth, two roses and a boar's +head erect; second and third--I forget." + +"Humph! Was there any one who knew him before he was married?" + +"Yes, yes," Mr. Emblem sat up eagerly. "Yes, there is--there is; he is +my oldest customer. But I forget his name, I have forgotten +everything. Perhaps I shall get back my memory to-morrow. But I am +old. Perhaps it will never get back." + +He leaned his head upon his hands, and stared about him with +bewildered eyes. + +"I do not know, young man," he said presently, addressing Arnold, "who +you are. If you come from Mr. Chalker, let me tell you it is a day too +soon. To-morrow we will speak of business." Then he sprung to his feet +suddenly, struck with a thought which pierced him like a dagger. +"To-morrow! It is the day when they will come to sell me up. Oh, Iris! +what did that matter when you were safe? Now we are all paupers +together--all paupers." + +He fell back in his chair white and trembling. Iris soothed him; +kissed his cheek and pressed his hand; but the terror and despair of +bankruptcy were upon him. This is an awful specter, which is ever +ready to appear before the man who has embarked his all in one +venture. A disastrous season, two or three unlucky ventures, a +succession of bad debts, and the grisly specter stands before them. +He had no terror for the old man so long as he thought that Iris was +safe. But now-- + +"Idle talk, Iris--idle talk, child," he said, when they tried to +comfort him. "How can a girl make money by teaching? Idle talk, young +man. How can money be made by painting? It's as bad a trade as +writing. How can money be made anyhow but in an honest shop? And +to-morrow I shall have no shop, and we shall all go into the street +together!" + +Presently, when lamentations had yielded to despair, they persuaded +him to go to bed. It was past midnight. Iris went upstairs with him, +while Lala Roy and Arnold waited down below. And then Arnold made a +great discovery. He began to examine the folded papers which were in +the packet. I think he had some kind of vague idea that they might +contain secret and invisible writing. They were all sheets of +note-paper, of the same size, folded in the same way--namely, doubled +as if for a square envelope. On holding one to the light, he read the +water-mark: + + HIEROGLYPHICA + A Vegetable Vellum. + M.S. & Co. + +They all had the same water-mark. He showed the thing to the Hindoo, +who did not understand what it meant. + +Then Iris came down again. Her grandfather was sleeping. Like a child, +he fell asleep the moment his head fell upon the pillow. + +"Iris," he said, "this is no delusion of your grandfather's. The +parcel has been robbed." + +"How do you know, Arnold?" + +"The stupid fellow who stole and opened the packet no doubt thought he +was wonderfully clever to fill it up again with paper. But he forgot +that the packet has been lying for eighteen years in the safe, and +that this note-paper was made the day before yesterday." + +"How do you know that?" + +"You can tell by the look and feel of the paper; they did not make +paper like this twenty years ago; besides, look at the water-mark;" he +held it to the light, and Iris read the mystic words. "That is the +fashion of to-day. One house issues a new kind of paper, with a fancy +name, and another imitates them. To-morrow, I will ascertain exactly +when this paper was made." + +"But who would steal it, Arnold? Who could steal it?" + +"It would not probably be of the least use to any one. But it might be +stolen in order to sell it back. We may see an advertisement carefully +worded, guarded, or perhaps--Iris, who had access to the place, when +your grandfather was out?" + +"No one but James, the shopman. He has been here five-and-twenty +years. He would not, surely, rob his old master. No one else comes +here except the customers and Cousin Joe." + +"Joe is not, I believe, quite--" + +"Joe is a very bad man. He has done dreadful things. But then, even if +Joe were bad enough to rob the safe, how could he get at it? My +grandfather never leaves it unlocked. Oh, Arnold, Arnold, that all +this trouble should fall upon us on the very day--" + +"My dear, is it not better that it should fall upon you when I am +here, one more added to your advisers? If you have lost a fortune, I +have found one. Think that you have given it to me." + +"Oh, the fortune may go," she said. "The future is ours, and we are +young. But who shall console my grandfather in his old age for his +bankruptcy?" + +"As the stream," said Lala Roy, "which passeth from the mountains to +the ocean, kisseth every meadow on its way, yet tarries not in any +place, so Fortune visits the sons of men; she is unstable as the wind; +who shall hold her? Let not adversity tear off the wings of hope." + +They could do nothing more. Arnold replaced the paper in the packet, +and gave it to Iris; they put back the ledgers and account-books in +the safe, and locked it up, and then they went upstairs. + +"You shall go to bed, Iris," said Arnold, "and you, too, Lala Roy. I +shall stay here, in case Mr. Emblem should--should want anything." + +He was, in reality, afraid that "something would happen" to the old +man. His sudden loss of memory, his loss of self-control when he spoke +of his bankruptcy, the confusion of his words, told clearly of a mind +unhinged. He could not go away and leave Iris with no better +protection than one other weak old man. + +He remained, but Iris sat with him, and in the silent watches of the +night they talked about the future. + +Under every roof are those who talk about the future, and those who +think about the past; so the shadow of death is always with us and the +sunshine of life. Not without reason is the Roman Catholic altar +incomplete without a bone of some dead man. As for the thing which had +been stolen, that affected them but little. What does it matter--the +loss of what was promised but five minutes since? + +It was one o'clock in the morning when Lala Roy left them. They sat at +the window, hand-in-hand, and talked. The street below them was very +quiet; now and then a late cab broke the silence, or the tramp of a +policeman; but there were no other sounds. They sat in darkness +because they wanted no light. The hours sped too swiftly for them. At +five the day began to dawn. + +"Iris," said Arnold, "leave me now, and try to sleep a little. Shall +we ever forget this night of sweet and tender talk?" + +When she was gone, he began to be aware of footsteps overhead in the +old man's room. What was he going to do? Arnold waited at the door. +Presently the door opened, and he heard careful steps upon the stairs. +They were the steps of Mr. Emblem himself. He was fully dressed, with +his usual care and neatness, his black silk stock buckled behind, and +his white hair brushed. + +"Ah, Mr. Arbuthnot," he said cheerfully, "you are early this morning!" +as if it was quite a usual thing for his friends to look in at six in +the morning. + +"You are going down to the shop, Mr. Emblem?" + +"Yes, certainly--to the shop. Pray come with me." + +Arnold followed him. + +"I have just remembered," said the old man, "that last night we did +not look on the floor. I will have one more search for the letter, and +then, if I cannot find it, I will write it all out--every word. There +is not much, to be sure, but the story is told without the names." + +"Tell me the story, Mr. Emblem, while you remember it." + +"All in good time, young man. Youth is impatient." + +He drew up the blind and let in the morning light; then he began his +search for the letter on the floor, going on his hands and knees, and +peering under the table and chairs with a candle. At length he +desisted. + +"I tied it up," he said, "with the parcel, with red tape. Very +well--we must do without it. Now, Mr. Arbuthnot, my plan is this. +First, I will dictate the letter. This will give you the outlines of +the story. Next, I will send you to--to my old customer, who can tell +you my son-in-law's real name. And then I will describe his +coat-of-arms. My memory was never so clear and good as I feel it +to-day. Strange that last night I seemed, for the moment, to forget +everything! Ha, ha! Ridiculous, wasn't it? I suppose--But there is no +accounting for these queer things. Perhaps I was disappointed to find +nothing in the packet. Do you think, Mr. Arbuthnot, that I--" Here he +began to tremble. "Do you think that I dreamed it all? Old men think +strange things. Perhaps--" + +"Let us try to remember the letter, Mr. Emblem." + +"Yes, yes--certainly--the letter. Why it went--ahem!--as follows--" + + * * * * * + +Arnold laid down the pen in despair. The poor old man was mad. He had +poured out the wildest farrago without sense, coherence, or story. + +"So much for the letter, Mr. Arbuthnot." He was mad without doubt, yet +he knew Arnold, and knew, too, why he was in the house. "Ah, I knew it +would come back to me. Strange if it did not. Why I read that letter +once every quarter or so for eighteen years. It is a part of myself. I +could not forget it." + +"And the name of your son-in-law's old friend?" + +"Oh, yes, the name!" + +He gave some name, which might have been the lost name, but as Mr. +Emblem changed it the next moment, and forgot it again the moment +after, it was doubtful; certainly not much to build upon. + +"And the coat-of-arms?" + +"We are getting on famously, are we not? The coat, sir, was as +follows." + +He proceeded to describe an impossible coat--a coat which might have +been drawn by a man absolutely ignorant of science. + +All this took a couple of hours. It was now eight o'clock. + +"Thank you, Mr. Emblem," said Arnold. "I have no doubt now that we +shall somehow bring Iris to her own again, in spite of your loss. +Shall we go upstairs and have some breakfast?" + +"It is all right, Iris," cried the old man gleefully. "It is all +right. I have remembered everything, and Mr. Arbuthnot will go out +presently and secure your inheritance." + +Iris looked at Arnold. + +"Yes, dear," she said. "You shall have your breakfast. And then you +shall tell me all about it when Arnold goes; and you will take a +holiday, won't you--because I am twenty-one to-day?" + +"Aha!" He was quite cheerful and mirthful, because he had recovered +his memory. "Aha, my dear, all is well! You are twenty-one, and I am +seventy-five; and Mr. Arbuthnot will go and bring home the--the +inheritance. And I shall sit here all day long. It was a good dream +that came to me this morning, was it not? Quite a voice from Heaven, +which said: 'Get up and write down the letter while you remember it.' +I got up; I found by the--by the merest accident, Mr. Arbuthnot on the +stairs, and we have arranged everything for you--everything." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +DR. WASHINGTON. + + +Arnold returned to his studio, sat down and fell fast asleep. + +He was awakened about noon by his Cousin Clara. + +"Oh, Arnold," she cried, shaking him wrathfully by the arm, "this is a +moment of the greatest excitement and importance to me, and you are my +only adviser, and you are asleep!" + +He sprung to his feet. + +"I am awake now, Clara. Anxiety and trouble? On account of our talk +yesterday?" + +He saw that she had been crying. In her hands she had a packet of +letters. + +"Oh, no, no; it is far more important than that. As for our talk--" + +"I am engaged to her, Clara." + +"So I expected," she replied coldly. "But I am not come here about +your engagement. And you do not want my congratulations, I suppose?" + +"I should like to have your good wishes, Clara." + +"Oh, Arnold, that is what my poor Claude said when he deserted me and +married the governess. You men want to have your own way, and then +expect us to be delighted with it." + +"I expect nothing, Clara. Pray understand that." + +"I told Claude, when he wrote asking forgiveness, that he had my good +wishes, whatever he chose to do, but that I would not on any account +receive his wife. Very well, Arnold; that is exactly what I say to +you." + +"Very well, Clara. I quite understand. As for the studio, and all the +things that you have given me, they are, of course, yours again. Let +me restore what I can to you." + +"No, Arnold, they are yours. Let me hear no more about things that are +your own. Of course, your business, as you call it, is exciting. But +as for this other thing, it is far more important. Something has +happened; something I always expected; something that I looked +forward to for years; although it has waited on the way so long, it +has actually come at last, when I had almost forgotten to look for it. +So true it is, Arnold, that good fortune and misfortune alike come +when we least expect them." + +Arnold sat down. He knew his cousin too well to interrupt her. She had +her own way of telling a story, and it was a roundabout way. + +"I cannot complain, after twenty years, can I? I have had plenty of +rope, as you would say. But still it has come at last. And naturally, +when it does come, it is a shock." + +"Is it hereditary gout, Clara?" + +"Gout! Nonsense, Arnold! When the will was read, I said to myself, +'Claude is certain to come back and claim his own. It is his right, +and I hope he will come. But for my own part, I have not the least +intention of calling upon the governess.' Then three or four years +passed away, and I heard--I do not remember how--that he was dead. And +then I waited for his heirs, his children, or their guardians. But +they did not come." + +"And now they have really come? Oh, Clara, this is indeed a +misfortune." + +"No, Arnold; call it a restitution, not a misfortune. I have been +living all these years on the money which belongs to Claude's heirs." + +"There was a son, then. And now he has dropped upon us from the +clouds?" + +"It is a daughter, not a son. But you shall hear. I received a letter +this morning from a person called Dr. Joseph Washington, stating that +he wrote to me on account of the only child and heiress of the late +Claude Deseret." + +"Who is Dr. Joseph Washington?" + +"He is a physician, he says, and an American." + +"Yes; will you go on?" + +"I do not mind it, Arnold; I really do not. I must give up my house +and put down my carriage, but it is for Claude's daughter. I rejoice +to think that he has left some one behind him. Arnold, that face upon +your canvas really has got eyes wonderfully like his, if it was not a +mere fancy, when I saw it yesterday. I am glad, I say, to give up +everything to the child of Claude." + +"You think so kindly of him, Clara, who inflicted so much pain on +you." + +"I can never think bitterly of Claude. We were brought up together; we +were like brother and sister; he never loved me in any other way. Oh, +I understood it all years ago. To begin with, I was never beautiful; +and it was his father's mistake. Well: this American followed up his +letter by a visit. In the letter he merely said he had come to London +with the heiress. But he called an hour ago, and brought me--oh, +Arnold, he brought me one more letter from Claude. It has been waiting +for me for eighteen years. After all that time, after eighteen years, +my poor dead Claude speaks to me again. My dear, when I thought he was +miserable on account of his marriage, I was wrong. His wife made him +happy, and he died because she died." The tears came into her eyes +again. "Poor boy! Poor Claude! The letter speaks of his child. It +says--" She opened and read the letter. "He says: 'Some day my child +will, I hope, come to you, and say: Cousin Clara, I am Iris +Deseret.'" + +"Iris?" said Arnold. + +"It is her name, Arnold. It was the child's grandmother's name." + +"A strange coincidence," he said. "Pray go on." + +"'She will say: Cousin Clara, I am Iris Deseret. Then you will be +kind to her, as you would to me, if I were to come home again.' I +cannot read any more, my dear, even to you." + +"Did this American give you any other proof of what he asserts?" + +"He gave me a portrait of Claude, taken years ago, when he was a boy +of sixteen, and showed me the certificate of marriage, and the child's +certificate of baptism, and letters from his wife. I suppose nothing +more can be wanted." + +"I dare say it is all right, Clara. But why was not the child brought +over before?" + +"Because--this is the really romantic part of the story--when her +father died, leaving the child, she was adopted by these charitable +Americans, and no one ever thought of examining the papers, which were +lying in a desk, until the other day." + +"You have not seen the young lady." + +"No; he is to bring her to-morrow." + +"And what sort of a man is this American? Is he a gentleman?" + +"Well, I do not quite know. Perhaps Americans are different from +Englishmen. If he was an Englishman, I should say without any +hesitation that he is not a gentleman, as we count good breeding and +good manners. He is a big man, handsome and burly, and he seems +good-tempered. When I told him what was the full amount of Iris's +inheritance--" + +"Iris's inheritance!" Arnold repeated. "I beg your pardon, Clara; pray +go on; but it seems like a dream." + +"He only laughed, and said he was glad she would have so much. The +utmost they hoped, he said, was that it might be a farm, or a house or +two, or a few hundreds in the stocks. He is to bring her to-morrow, +and of course I shall make her stay with me. As for himself, he says +that he is only anxious to get back home to his wife and his +practice." + +"He wants nothing for himself, then? That seems a good sign." + +"I asked him that question, and he said that he could not possibly +take money for what he and his family had done for Iris; that is to +say, her education and maintenance. This was very generous of him. +Perhaps he is really a gentleman by birth, but has provincial manners. +He said, however, that he had no objection to receiving the small +amount of money spent on the voyage and on Iris's outfit, because they +were not rich people, and it was a serious thing to fit out a young +lady suitably. So of course I gave him what he suggested, a check for +two hundred pounds. No one, he added with true feeling, would grudge a +single dollar that had been spent upon the education of the dear girl; +and this went to my heart." + +"She is well educated, then?" + +"She sings well," he says, "and has had a good plain education. He +said I might rest assured that she was ladylike, because she had been +brought up among his own friends." + +"That is a very safe guarantee," said Arnold, laughing. "I wonder if +she is pretty?" + +"I asked him that question too, and he replied very oddly that she had +a most splendid figure, which fetched everybody. Is not that rather a +vulgar expression?" + +"It is, in England. Perhaps in America it belongs to the first +circles, and is a survival of the Pilgrim Fathers. So you gave him a +check for two hundred pounds?" + +"Yes; surely I was not wrong, Arnold. Consider the circumstances, the +outfit and the voyage, and the man's reluctance and delicacy of +feeling." + +"I dare say you were quite right, but--well, I think I should have +seen the young lady first. Remember, you have given the money to a +stranger, on his bare word." + +"Oh, Arnold, this man is perfectly honest. I would answer for his +truth and honesty. He has frank, honest eyes. Besides, he brought me +all those letters. Well, dear, you are not going to desert me because +you are engaged, are you, Arnold? I want you to be present when she +comes to-morrow morning." + +"Certainly I will be present, with the greatest--no, not the greatest +pleasure. But I will be present--I will come to luncheon, Clara." + +When she was gone he thought again of the strange coincidence, both of +the man and of the inheritance. Yet what had his Iris in common with a +girl who had been brought up in America? Besides, she had lost her +inheritance, and this other Iris had crossed the ocean to receive +hers. Yet a very strange coincidence. It was so strange that he told +it to Iris and to Lala Roy. Iris laughed, and said she did not know +she had a single namesake. Lala did not laugh; but he sat thinking in +silence. There was no chess for him that night; instead of playing his +usual game, Mr. Emblem, in his chair, laughed and chuckled in rather a +ghastly way. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +"IT IS MY COUSIN." + + +"Well, Joe," said his wife, "and how is it going to finish? It looks +to me as if there was a prison-van and a police-court at the end. +Don't you think we had better back out of it while there is time?" + +"You're a fool!" her husband replied--it was the morning after his +visit to Clara; "you know nothing about it. Now listen." + +"I do nothing but listen; you've told me the story till I know it by +heart. Do you think anybody in the world will be so green as to +believe such a clumsy plan as that?" + +"Now look here, Lotty; if there's another word said--mind, now--you +shall have nothing more to do with the business at all. I'll give it +to a girl I know--a clever girl, who will carry it through with flying +colors." + +She set her lips hard, and drummed her fingers on the table. He knew +how to rule his wife. + +"Go on," she said, "since we can't be honest." + +"Be reasonable, then; that's all I ask you. Honest! who is honest? +Ain't we every one engaged in getting round our neighbors? Isn't the +whole game, all the world over, lying and deceit? Honest! you might as +well go on the boards without faking up your face, as try to live +honest. Hold your tongue, then." He growled and swore, and after his +fashion called on the Heavens to witness and express their +astonishment. + +The girl bent her head, and made no reply for a space. She was cowed +and afraid. Presently she looked up and laughed, but with a forced +laugh. + +"Don't be cross, Joe; I'll do whatever you want me to do, and +cheerfully, too, if it will do you any good. What is a woman good for +but to help her husband? Only don't be cross, Joe." + +She knew what her husband was by this time--a false and unscrupulous +man. Yet she loved him. The case is not rare by any means, so that +there is hope for all of us, from the meanest and most wriggling worm +among us to the most hectoring ruffian. + +"Why there, Lotty," he said, "that is what I like. Now listen. The old +lady is a cake--do you understand? She is a sponge, she swallows +everything, and is ready to fall on your neck and cry over you for +joy. As for doubt or suspicion, not a word. I don't think there will +be a single question asked. No, it's all 'My poor dear Claude'--that's +your father, Lotty--and 'My poor dear Iris'--that's you, Lotty." + +"All right, Joe, go on. I am Iris--I am anybody you like. Go on." + +"The more I think about it, the more I'm certain we shall do the +trick. Only keep cool over the job and forget the music-hall. You are +Iris Deseret, and you are the daughter of Claude Deseret, deceased. I +am Dr. Washington, one of the American family who brought you up. +You're grateful, mind. Nothing can be more lively than your gratitude. +We've been brother and sister, you and me, and I've got a wife and +young family and a rising practice at home in the State of Maine, and +I am only come over here to see you into your rights at great personal +expense. Paid a substitute. Yes, actually paid a substitute. We only +found the papers the other day, which is the reason why we did not +come over before, and I am going home again directly." + +"You are not really going away, Joe, are you?" + +"No, I am going to stay here; but I shall pretend to go away. Now +remember, we've got no suspicion ourselves, and we don't expect to +meet any. If there is any, we are surprised and sorry. We don't come +to the lady with a lawyer or a blunderbuss; we come as friends, and we +shall arrange this little business between ourselves. Oh, never you +fear, we shall arrange it quite comfortably, without lawyers." + +"How much do you think we shall get out of it, Joe?" + +"Listen, and open your eyes. There's nearly a hundred and twenty +thousand pounds and a small estate in the country. Don't let us +trouble about the estate more than we can help. Estates mean lawyers. +Money doesn't." + +He spoke as if small sums like a hundred thousand pounds are carried +about in the pocket. + +"Good gracious! And you've got two hundred of it already, haven't +you?" + +"Yes, but what is two hundred out of a hundred and twenty thousand? A +hundred and twenty thousand! There's spending in it, isn't there, +Lotty? Gad, we'll make the money spin, I calculate! It may be a few +weeks before the old lady transfers the money--I don't quite know +where it is, but in stocks or something--to your name. As soon as it +is in your name I've got a plan. We'll remember that you've got a +sweetheart or something in America, and you'll break your heart for +wanting to see him. And then nothing will do but you must run across +for a trip. Oh, I'll manage, and we'll make the money fly." + +He was always adding new details to his story, finding something to +embellish it and heighten the effect, and now having succeeded in +getting the false Iris into the house, he began already to devise +schemes to get her out again. + +"A hundred thousand pounds? Why, Joe, it is a terrible great sum of +money. Good gracious! What shall we do with it, when we get it?" + +"I'll show you what to do with it, my girl." + +"And you said, Joe--you declared that it is your own by rights." + +"Certainly it is my own. It would have been bequeathed to me by my own +cousin. But she didn't know it. And she died without knowing it, and I +am her heir." + +Lotty wondered vaguely and rather sadly how much of this statement was +true. But she did not dare to ask. She had promised her assistance. +Every night she woke with a dreadful dream of a policeman knocking at +the door; whenever she saw a man in blue she trembled; and she knew +perfectly well that, if the plot failed, it was she herself, in all +probability, and not her husband at all, who would be put in the dock. +She did not believe a word about the cousin; she knew she was going to +do a vile and dreadful wickedness, but she was ready to go through +with it, or with anything else, to pleasure a husband who already, the +honeymoon hardly finished, showed the propensities of a rover. + +"Very well, Lotty; we are going there at once. You need take nothing +with you, but you won't come back here for a good spell. In fact, I +think I shall have to give up these lodgings, for fear of accidents. I +shall leave you with your cousin." + +"Yes; and I'm to be quiet, and behave pretty, I suppose?" + +"You'll be just as quiet and demure as you used to be when you were +serving in the music shop. No loud laughing, no capers, no comic +songs, and no dancing." + +"And am I to begin at once by asking for the money to be--what do you +call it, transferred?" + +"No; you are not on any account to say a word about the money; you are +to go on living there without hinting at the money--without showing +any desire to discuss the subject--perhaps for months, until there +can't be the shadow of a doubt that you are the old woman's cousin. +You are to make much of her, flatter her, cocker her up, find out all +the family secrets, and get the length of her foot; but you are not +to say one single word about the money. As for your manners, I'm not +afraid of them, because when you like, you can look and talk like a +countess." + +"I know now." She got up and changed her face so that it became at +once subdued and quiet, like a quiet serving-girl behind a counter. +"So, is that modest enough, Joe? And as for singing, I shall sing for +her, but not music-hall trash. This kind of thing. Listen." + +There was a piano in the room, and she sat down and sang to her own +accompaniment, with a sweet, low voice, one of the soft, sad German +songs. + +"That'll do," cried Joe. "Hang me! what a clever girl you are, Lotty! +That's the kind of thing the swells like. As for me, give me ten +minutes of Jolly Nash. But you know how to pull 'em in, Lotty." + +It was approaching twelve, the hour when they were due. Lotty retired +and arrayed herself in her quietest and most sober dress, a costume in +some brown stuff, with a bonnet to match. She put on her best gloves +and boots, having herself felt the inferiority of the shop-girl to the +lady in those minor points, and she modified and mitigated her fringe, +which, she knew, was rather more exaggerated than young ladies in +society generally wear. + +"You're not afraid, Lotty?" said Joe, when at last she was ready to +start. + +"Afraid? Not I, Joe. Come along. I couldn't look quieter, not if I was +to make up as I do in the evening as a Quakeress. Come along. Oh, Joe, +it will be awful dull! Don't forget to send word to the hall that I am +ill. Afraid? Not I!" She laughed, but rather hysterically. + +There would be, however, she secretly considered, some excitement when +it came to the finding out, which would happen, she was convinced, in +a very few hours. In fact, she had no faith at all in the story being +accepted and believed by anybody; to be sure, she herself had been +trained, as ladies in shops generally are, to mistrust all mankind, +and she could not understand at all the kind of confidence which comes +of having the very thing presented to you which you ardently desire. +When they arrived in Chester Square, she found waiting for her a lady, +who was certainly not beautiful, but she had kind eyes, which looked +eagerly at the strange face, and with an expression of disappointment. + +"It can't be the fringe," thought Lotty. + +"Cousin Clara," she said softly and sweetly, as her husband had taught +her, "I am Iris Deseret, the daughter of your old playfellow, Claude." + +"Oh, my dear, my dear," cried Clara with enthusiasm, "come to my arms! +Welcome home again!" + +She kissed and embraced her. Then she held her by both hands, and +looked at her face again. + +"My dear," she said, "you have been a long time coming. I had almost +given up hoping that Claude had any children. But you are welcome, +after all--very welcome. You are in your own house, remember, my dear. +This house is yours, and the plate, and furniture, and everything, and +I am only your tenant." + +"Oh!" said Lotty, overwhelmed. Why, she had actually been taken on her +word, or rather the word of Joe. + +"Let me kiss you again. Your face does not remind me as yet, in any +single feature, of your father's. But I dare say I shall find +resemblance presently. And indeed, your voice does remind me of him +already. He had a singularly sweet and delicate voice." + +"Iris has a remarkably sweet and delicate voice," said Joe, softly. +"No doubt she got it from her father. You will hear her sing +presently." + +Lotty hardly knew her husband. His face was preternaturally solemn, +and he looked as if he was engaged in the most serious business of his +life. + +"All her father's ways were gentle and delicate," said Clara. + +"Just like hers," said Joe. "When all of us--American boys and girls, +pretty rough at times--were playing and larking about, Iris would be +just sittin' out like a cat on a carpet, quiet and demure. I suppose +she got that way, too, from her father." + +"No doubt; and as for your face, my dear, I dare say I shall find a +likeness presently. But just now I see none. Will you take off your +bonnet?" + +When the girl's bonnet was off, Clara looked at her again, curiously, +but kindly. + +"I suppose I can't help looking for a likeness, my dear. But you must +take after your mother, whom I never saw. Your father's eyes were full +and limpid; yours are large, and clear, and bright; very good eyes, my +dear, but they are not limpid. His mouth was flexible and mobile, but +yours is firm. Your hair, however, reminds me somewhat of his, which +was much your light shade of brown when he was young. And now, +sir"--she addressed Joe--"now that you have brought this dear girl all +the way across the Atlantic, what are you going to do?" + +"Well, I don't exactly know that there's anything to keep me," said +Joe. "You see, I've got my practice to look after at home--I am a +physician, as I told you--and my wife and children; and the sooner I +get back the better, now that I can leave Iris with her friends, safe +and comfortable. Stay," he added, "there are all those papers which I +promised you--the certificates, and the rest of them. You had better +take them all, miss, and keep them for Iris." + +"Thank you," said Clara, touched by this confidence; "Iris will be +safe with me. It is very natural that you should want to go home +again. And you will be content to stay with me, my dear, won't you? +You need not be afraid, sir; I assure you that her interests will not +in any way suffer. Tell her to write and let you know exactly what is +done. Let her, however, since she is an English girl, remain with +English friends, and get to know her cousins and relations. You can +safely trust her with me, Dr. Washington." + +"Thank you," said Joe. "You know that when one has known a girl all +her life, one is naturally anxious about her happiness. We are almost +brother and sister." + +"I know; and I am sure, Mr. Washington, we ought to be most grateful +to you. As for the money you have expended upon her, let me once more +beg of you--" + +Joe waved his hand majestically. + +"As for that," he said, "the money is spent. Iris is welcome to it, if +it were ten times as much. Now, madam, you trusted me, the very first +day that you saw me, with two hundred pounds sterling. Only an English +lady would have done that. You trusted me without asking me who or +what I was, or doubting my word. I assure you, madam, I felt that +kindness, and that trust, very much indeed, and in return, I have +brought you Iris herself. After all expenses paid of coming over and +getting back, buying a few things for Iris, if I find that there's +anything over, I shall ask you to take back the balance. Madam, I +thank you for the money, but I am sure I have repaid you--with Iris." + +This was a very clever speech. If there had been a shadow of doubt +before it in Clara's heart (which there was not), it would vanish now. +She cordially and joyfully accepted her newly-found cousin. + +"And now, Iris," he said with a manly tremor in his voice, "I do not +know if I shall see you again before I go away. If not, I shall take +your fond love to all of them at home--Tom, and Dick, and Harry, and +Harriet, and Prissy, and all of them"--Joe really was carrying the +thing through splendidly--"and perhaps, my dear, when you are a grand +lady in England, you will give a thought--a thought now and again--to +your old friends across the water." + +"Oh, Joe!" cried Lotty, really carried away with admiration, and +ashamed of her skeptical spirit. "Oh," she whispered, "ain't you +splendid!" + +"But you must not go, Dr. Washington," said Clara, "without coming +again to say farewell. Will you not dine with us to-night? Will you +stay and have lunch?" + +"No, madam, I thank you. It will be best for me to leave Iris alone +with you. The sooner she learns your English ways and forgets American +ways, the better." + +"But you are not going to start away for Liverpool at once? You will +stay a day or two in London--" + +The American physician said that perhaps he might stay a week longer +for scientific purposes. + +"Have you got enough money, Joe?" asked the new Iris thoughtfully. + +Joe gave her a glance of infinite admiration. + +"Well," he said, "the fact is that I should like to buy a few books +and things. Perhaps--" + +"Cousin," said Lotty eagerly, "please give him a check for a hundred +pounds. Make it a hundred. You said everything was mine. No, Joe, I +won't hear a word about repayment, as if a little thing like fifty +pounds, or a hundred pounds, should want to be repaid! As if you and I +could ever talk about repayment!" + +Clara did as she was asked readily and eagerly. Then Joe departed, +promising to call and say farewell before he left England, and +resolving that in his next visit--his last visit--there should be +another check. But he had made one mistake; he had parted with the +papers. No one in any situation of life should ever give up the power, +until he has secured the substance. But it is human to err. + +"And now, my dear," said Clara warmly, "sit down and let us talk. +Arnold is coming to lunch with us, and to make your acquaintance." + +When Arnold came a few minutes later, he was astonished to find his +cousin already on the most affectionate terms with the newly-arrived +Iris Deseret. She was walking about the room showing her the pictures +of her grandfather and other ancestors, and they were hand-in-hand. + +"Arnold," said Clara, "this is Iris, and I hope you will both be great +friends; Iris, this is my cousin, but he is not yours." + +"I don't pretend to know how that may be," said the young lady. "But +then I am glad to know all your cousins, whether they are mine or not; +only don't bother me with questions, because I don't remember +anything, and I don't know anything. Why, until the other day I did +not even know that I was an English lady, not until they found those +papers." + +A strange accent for an American! and she certainly said "laidy" for +"lady," and "paipper" for "paper," like a cockney. Alas! This comes of +London Music Halls even to country-bred damsels! + +Arnold made a mental observation that the new-comer might be called +anything in the world, but could not be called a lady. She was +handsome, certainly, but how could Claude Deseret's daughter have +grown into so common a type of beauty? Where was the delicacy of +feature and manner which Clara had never ceased to commend in speaking +of her lost cousin? + +"Iris," said Clara, "is our little savage from the American Forest. +She is Queen Pocahontas, who has come over to conquer England and to +win all our hearts. My dear, my Cousin Arnold will help me to make you +an English girl." + +She spoke as in the State of Maine was still the hunting-ground of +Sioux and Iroquois. + +Arnold thought that a less American-looking girl he had never seen; +that she did not speak or look like a lady was to be expected, +perhaps, if she had, as was probable, been brought up by rough and +unpolished people. But he had no doubt, any more than Clara herself, +as to the identity of the girl. Nobody ever doubts a claimant. Every +impostor, from Demetrius downward, has gained his supporters and +partisans by simply living among them and keeping up the imposition. +It is so easy, in fact, to be a claimant, that it is wonderful there +are not more of them. + +Then luncheon was served, and the young lady not only showed a noble +appetite, but to Arnold's astonishment, confessed to an ardent love +for bottled stout. + +"Most American ladies," he said impertinently, "only drink water, do +they not?" + +Lotty perceived that she had made a mistake. + +"I only drink stout," she said, "when the doctor tells me. But I like +it all the same." + +She certainly had no American accent. But she would not talk much; she +was, perhaps, shy. After luncheon, however, Clara asked her if she +would sing, and she complied, showing considerable skill with her +accompaniment, and singing a simple song in good taste and with a +sweet voice. Arnold observed, however, that there was some weakness +about the letter "h," less common among Americans than among the +English. Presently he went away, and the girl, who had been aware that +he was watching her, breathed more easily. + +"Who is your Cousin Arnold?" she asked. + +"My dear, he is my cousin but not yours. You will not see him often, +because he is going to be married, I am sorry to say, and to be +married beneath him--oh, it is dreadful! to some tradesman's girl, my +dear." + +"Dreadful!" said Iris with a queer look in her eyes. "Well, cousin, I +don't want to see much of him. He's a good-looking chap, too, though +rather too finicking for my taste. I like a man who looks as if he +could knock another man down. Besides, he looks at me as if I was a +riddle, and he wanted to find out the answer." + +In the evening Arnold found that no change had come over the old man. +He was, however, perfectly happy, so that, considering the ruin of his +worldly prospects, it was, perhaps, as well that he had parted, for a +time, at least, with his wits. Some worldly misfortunes there are +which should always produce this effect. + +"You told me," said Lala Roy, "that another Iris had just come from +America to claim an inheritance of your cousin." + +"Yes; it is a very strange coincidence." + +"Very strange. Two Englishmen die in America at the same time, each +having a daughter named Iris, and each daughter entitled to some kind +of inheritance." + +Lala Roy spoke slowly, and with meaning. + +"Oh!" cried Arnold. "It is more than strange. Do you think--is it +possible--" + +He could not for the moment clothe his thoughts in words. + +"Do you know if any one has brought this girl to England?" + +"Yes; she was brought over by a young American physician, one of the +family who adopted and brought her up." + +"What is he like--the young American physician?" + +"I have not seen him." + +"Go, my young friend, to-morrow morning, and ask your cousin if this +photograph resembles the American physician." + +It was the photograph of a handsome young fellow, with strongly marked +features, apparently tall and well-set-up. + +"Lala, you don't really suspect anything--you don't think--" + +"Hush! I know who has stolen the papers. Perhaps the same man has +produced the heiress." + +"And you think--you suspect that the man who stole the papers is +connected with--But then those papers must be--oh, it cannot be! For +then Iris would be Clara's cousin--Clara's cousin--and the other an +impostor." + +"Even so; everything is possible. But silence. Do not speak a word, +even to Iris. If the papers are lost, they are lost. Say nothing to +her yet; but go--go, and find out if that photograph resembles the +American physician. The river wanders here and there, but the sea +swallows it at last." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +MR. JAMES MAKES ATONEMENT. + + +James arrived as usual in the morning at nine o'clock, in order to +take down the shutters. To his astonishment, he found Lala Roy and +Iris waiting for him in the back shop. And they had grave faces. + +"James," said Iris, "your master has suffered a great shock, and is +not himself this morning. His safe has been broken open by some one, +and most important papers have been taken out." + +"Papers, miss--papers? Out of the safe?" + +"Yes. They are papers of no value whatever to the thief, whoever he +may be. But they are of the very greatest importance to us. Your +master seems to have lost his memory for a while, and cannot help us +in finding out who has done this wicked thing. You have been a +faithful servant for so long that I am sure you will do what you can +for us. Think for us. Try to remember if anybody besides yourself has +had access to this room when your master was out of it." + +James sat down. He felt that he must sit down, though Lala Roy was +looking at him with eyes full of doubt and suspicion. The whole +enormity of his own guilt, though he had not stolen anything, fell +upon him. He had got the key; he had given it to Mr. Joseph; and he +had received it back again. In fact, at that very moment, it was lying +in his pocket. The worst that he had feared had happened. The safe was +robbed. + +He was struck with so horrible a dread, and so fearful a looking +forward to judgment and condemnation, that his teeth chattered and his +eye gave way. + +"You will think it over, James," said Iris; "think it over, and tell +us presently if you can remember anything." + +"Think it over, Mr. James," Lala Roy repeated in his deepest tone, and +with an emphatic gesture of his right forefinger. "Think it over +carefully. Like a lamp that is never extinguished are the eyes of the +faithful servant." + +They left him, and James fell back into his chair with hollow cheek +and beating heart. + +"He told me," he murmured--"oh, the villain!--he swore to me that he +had taken nothing from the safe. He said he only looked in it, and +read the contents. The scoundrel! He has stolen the papers! He must +have known they were there. And then, to save himself, he put me on to +the job. For who would be suspected if not--oh, Lord!--if not me?" + +He grasped his paste brush, and attacked his work with a feverish +anxiety to find relief in exertion; but his heart was not in it, and +presently a thought pierced his brain, as an arrow pierceth the heart, +and under the pang and agony of it, his face turned ashy-pale, and the +big drops stood upon his brow. + +"For," he thought, "suppose that the thing gets abroad; suppose they +were to advertise a reward; suppose the man who made the key were to +see the advertisement or to hear about it! And he knows my name, too, +and my business; and he'll let out for a reward--I know he will--who +it was ordered that key of him." + +Already he saw himself examined before a magistrate; already he saw in +imagination that locksmith's man who made the key kissing the +Testament, and giving his testimony in clear and distinct words, which +could not be shaken. + +"Oh, Lord! oh, Lord!" he groaned. "No one will believe me, even if I +do confess the truth: and as for him, I know him well; if I go to him, +he'll only laugh at me. But I must go to him--I must!" + +He was so goaded by his terror that he left the shop unprotected--a +thing he had never thought to do--and ran as fast as he could to Joe's +lodgings. But he had left them; he was no longer there; he had not +been there for six weeks; the landlady did not know his address, or +would not give it. Then James felt sick and dizzy, and would have sat +down on the doorstep and cried but for the look of the thing. Besides, +he remembered the unprotected shop. So he turned away sadly and walked +back, well understanding now that he had fallen like a tool into a +trap, artfully set to fasten suspicion and guilt upon himself. + +When he returned he found the place full of people. Mr. Emblem was +sitting in his customary place, and he was smiling. He did not look in +the least like a man who had been robbed. He was smiling pleasantly +and cheerfully. Mr. Chalker was also present, a man with whom no one +ever smiled, and Lala Roy, solemn and dignified, and a man--an unknown +man--who sat in the outer shop, and seemed to take no interest at all +in the proceedings. Were they come, he asked himself, to arrest him on +the spot? + +Apparently they were not, for no one took the least notice of him, and +they were occupied with something else. How could they think of +anything else? Yet Mr. Chalker, standing at the table, was making a +speech, which had nothing to do with the robbery. + +"Here I am, you see, Mr. Emblem," he said; "I have told you already +that I don't want to do anything to worry you. Let us be friends all +round. This gentleman, your friend from India, will advise you, I am +sure, for your own good, not to be obstinate. Lord! what is the +amount, after all, to a substantial man like yourself? A substantial +man, I say." He spoke confidently, but he glanced about the shop with +doubtful eyes. "Granted that it was borrowed to get your grandson out +of a scrape--supposing he promised to pay it back and hasn't done so; +putting the case that it has grown and developed itself as bills will +do, and can't help doing, and can't be stopped; it isn't the fault of +the lawyers, but the very nature of a hill to go on growing--it's like +a baby for growing. Why, after all, you were your grandson's +security--you can't escape that. And when I would no longer renew, you +gave of your own accord--come now, you can't deny that--a Bill of Sale +on goods and furniture. Now, Mr. Emblem, didn't, you? Don't let us +have any bitterness or quarreling. Let's be friends, and tell me I may +send away the man." + +Mr. Emblem smiled pleasantly, but did not reply. + +"A Bill of Sale it was, dated January the 25th, 1883, just before that +cursed Act of Parliament granted the five days' notice. Here is the +bailiff's man in possession. You can pay the amount, which is, with +costs and Sheriff's Poundage, three hundred and fifty-one pounds +thirteen shillings and fourpence, at once, or you may pay it five days +hence. Otherwise the shop, and furniture, and all, will be sold off in +seven days." + +"Oh," James gasped, listening with bewilderment, "we can't be going to +be sold up! Emblem's to be sold up!" + +"Three hundred and fifty pounds!" said Mr. Emblem. "My friend, let us +rather speak of thousands. This is a truly happy day for all of us. +Sit down, Mr. Chalker--my dear friend, sit down. Rejoice with us. A +happy morning." + +"What the devil is the matter with him?" asked the money-lender. + +"There was something, Mr. Chalker," Mr. Emblem went on cheerfully, +"something said about my grandson. Joe was always a bad lot; lucky his +father and mother are out of the way in Australia. You came to me +about that business, perhaps? Oh, on such a joyful day as this I +forgive everybody. Tell Joe I do not want to see him, but I have +forgiven him." + +"Oh, he's mad!" growled James; "he's gone stark staring mad!" + +"You don't seem quite yourself this morning, Mr. Emblem," said Mr. +Chalker. "Perhaps this gentleman, your friend from India, will advise +you when I am gone. You don't understand, Mister," he addressed Lala +Roy, "the nature of a bill. Once you start a bill, and begin to renew +it, it's like planting a tree, for it grows and grows of its own +accord, and by Act of Parliament, too, though they do try to hack and +cut it down in the most cruel way. You see Mr. Emblem is obstinate. +He's got to pay off that bill, which is a Bill of Sale, and he won't +do it. Make him write the check and have done with it." + +"This is the best day's work I ever did," Mr. Emblem went on. +"To remember the letter, word for word, and everything! +Mr. Arbuthnot has, very likely, finished the whole business +by now. Thousands--thousands--and all for Iris!" + +"Look here, Mr. Emblem," said the lawyer angrily. "You'll not only be +a bankrupt if you go on like this, but you'll be a fraudulent bankrupt +as well. Is it honest, I want to know, to refuse to pay your just +debts when you've put by thousands, as you boast--you actually +boast--for your granddaughter?" + +"Yes," said the old man, "Iris will have thousands." + +"I think, sir," said Lala Roy, "that you are under an illusion. Mr. +Emblem does not possess any such savings or investments as you +imagine." + +"Then why does he go on talking about thousands?" + +"He has had a shock; he cannot quite understand what has happened. You +had better leave him for the present." + +"Leave him! And nothing but these moldy old books! Here, you sir--you +James--you shopman--come here! What is the stock worth?" + +"It depends upon whether you are buying or selling," said James. "If +you were to sell it under the hammer, in lots, it wouldn't fetch a +hundred pounds." + +"There, you hear--you hear, all of you! Not a hundred pounds, and my +Bill of Sale is three-fifty." + +"Pray, sir," said Lala Roy, "who told you that Mr. Emblem was so +wealthy?" + +"His grandson." + +"Then, sir perhaps it would be well to question the grandson further, +he may know things of which we have heard nothing." + +The Act of 1882, which came into operation in the following January, +is cruel indeed, I am told, to those who advanced money on Bills of +Sale before that date, for it allows--it actually allows the debtor +five clear days during which he may, if he can, without being caught, +make away with portions of his furniture and belongings--the smaller +and the more precious portion; or he may find some one else to lend +him the money, and so get off clear and save his sticks. It is, as the +modern Shylock declares, a most wicked and iniquitous Act, by which +the shark may be balked, and many an honest tradesman, who would +otherwise have been most justly ruined, is enabled to save his stock, +and left to worry along until the times become more prosperous. To a +man like Mr. David Chalker, such an Act of Parliament is most +revolting. + +He went away at length, leaving the man--the professional +person--behind. Then Lala Roy persuaded Mr. Emblem to go upstairs +again. He did so without any apparent consciousness that there was a +Man in Possession. + +"James," said Lala Roy, "you have heard that your master has been +robbed. You are reflecting and meditating on this circumstance. +Another thing is that a creditor has threatened to sell off everything +for a debt. Most likely, everything will be sold, and the shop closed. +You will, therefore, lose the place you have had for five-and-twenty +years. That is a very bad business for you. You are unfortunate this +morning. To lose your place--and then this robbery. That seems also a +bad business." + +"It is," said James with a hollow groan. "It is, Mr. Lala Roy. It is a +dreadful bad business." + +"Pray, Mr. James," continued this man with grave, searching eyes which +made sinners shake in their shoes, "pray, why did you run away, and +where did you go after you opened the shop this morning? You went to +see Mr. Emblem's grandson, did you not?" + +"Yes, I did," said James. + +"Why did you go to see him?" + +"I w--w--went--oh, Lord!--I went to tell him what had happened, +because he is master's grandson, and I thought he ought to know," said +James. + +"Did you tell him?" + +"No; he has left his lodgings. I don't know where he is--oh, and he +always told me the shop was his--settled on him," he said. + +"He is the Father of Lies; his end will be confusion. Shame and +confusion shall wait upon all who have hearkened unto him or worked +with him, until they repent and make atonement." + +"Don't, Mister Lala Roy--don't; you frighten me," said James. "Oh, +what a dreadful liar he is!" + +All the morning the philosopher sat in the bookseller's chair, and +James, in the outer shop, felt that those deep eyes were resting +continually upon him, and knew that bit by bit his secret would be +dragged from him. If he could get up and run away--if a customer +would come--if the dark gentleman would go upstairs--if he could +think of something else! But none of these things happened, and James, +at his table with the paste before him, passed a morning compared with +which any seat anywhere in Purgatory would have been comfortable. +Presently a strange feeling came over him, as if some invisible force +was pushing and dragging him and forcing him to leave his chair, and +throw himself at the Philosopher's feet and confess everything. This +was the mesmeric effect of those reproachful eyes fixed steadily upon +him. And in the doorway, like some figure in a nightmare--a figure +incongruous and out of place--the Man in Possession sitting, passive +and unconcerned, with one eye on the street and the other on the shop. +Upstairs Mr. Emblem was sitting fast asleep; joy had made him sleepy; +and Iris was at work among her pupils' letters, compiling sums for the +Fruiterer, making a paper on Conic Sections for the Cambridge man, and +working out Trigonometrical Equations for the young schoolmaster, and +her mind full of a solemn exultation and glory, for she was a woman +who was loved. The other things troubled her but little. Her +grandfather would get back his equilibrium of mind; the shop might be +shut up, but that mattered little. Arnold, and Lala Roy, and her +grandfather, and herself, would all live together, and she and Arnold +would work. The selfishness of youth is really astonishing. +Nothing--except perhaps toothache--can make a girl unhappy who is +loved and newly betrothed. She may say what she pleases, and her face +may be a yard long when she speaks of the misfortunes of others, but +all the time her heart is dancing. + +To Lala Roy, the situation presented a problem with insufficient data, +some of which would have to be guessed. A letter, now lost, said that +a certain case contained papers necessary to obtain an unknown +inheritance for Iris. How then to ascertain whether anybody was +expecting or looking for a girl to claim an inheritance? Then there +was half a coat-of-arms, and lastly there was a certain customer of +unknown name, who had been acquainted with Iris's father before his +marriage. So far for Iris. As for the thief, Lala Roy had no doubt at +all. It was, he was quite certain, the grandson, whose career he had +watched for some years with interest and curiosity. Who else was there +who would steal the papers? And who would help him, and give him +access to the safe? He did not only suspect, he was certain that James +was in some way cognizant of the deed. Why else did he turn so pale? +Why did he rush off to Joe's lodgings? Why did he sit trembling? + +At half-past twelve Lala Roy rose. + +"It is your dinner-hour," he said to James, and it seemed to the +unhappy man as it he was saying, "I know all." "It is your dinner +hour; go, eat, refresh the body. Whom should suspicion affright except +the guilty?" + +James put on his hat and sneaked--he felt that he was sneaking--out of +the shop. + +During his dinner-hour, Joseph himself called. It was an unusual thing +to see him at any time; in fact, as he was never wont to call upon his +grandfather, unless he was in a scrape and wanted money, no one ever +made the poor young man welcome, or begged him to come more often. + +But this morning, he walked upstairs and appeared so cheerful, so +entirely free from any self-reproach for past sins, and so easy in his +mind, without the least touch of the old hang-dog look, that Iris +began to reproach herself for thinking badly of her cousin. + +When he was told about the robbery, he expressed the greatest surprise +that any one in the world could be so wicked as to rob an old man like +his grandfather. Besides his abhorrence of crime in the abstract, he +affirmed that the robbery of a safe was a species of villainy for +which hanging was too mild--much too mild a punishment. He then asked +his grandfather what were the contents of the packet stolen, and when +he received no answer except a pleasant and a cheery laugh, he asked +Iris, and learned to his sorrow that the contents were unknown, and +could not, therefore, be identified even if they were found. This, he +said, was a thousand pities, because, if they had been known, a reward +might have been offered. For his own part he would advise the greatest +caution. Nothing at all should be done at first; no step should be +taken which might awaken suspicion; they should go on as if the papers +were without value. As for that, they had no real proof that there was +any robbery. Iris thought of telling him about the water-mark of the +blank pages, but refrained. Perhaps there was no robbery after +all--who was to prove what had been inside the packet? But if there +had been papers, and it they were valueless except to the rightful +owners, they would, perhaps, be sent back voluntarily; or after a +time, say a year or two, they might be advertised for; not as if the +owners were very anxious to get them, and not revealing the nature of +the papers, but cautiously; and presently, if they had not been +destroyed, the holders of the papers would answer the advertisement, +and then a moderate reward might, after a while, be offered; and so +on, giving excellent advice. While he was speaking, Lala Roy entered +the room in his noiseless manner, and took his accustomed chair. + +"And what do you think, sir?" said Joseph, when he had finished. "You +have heard my advice. You are not an Englishman, but I suppose you've +got some intelligence." + +Lala bowed and spread his hands, but replied not. + +"Your opinion should be asked," Joseph went on, "because you see, as +the only other person, besides my grandfather and my cousin, in the +house, you might yourself be suspected. Indeed," he added, "I have no +doubt you will be suspected. When I talk over the conduct of the case, +which will be my task, I suppose, it will, perhaps, be my duty to +suspect you." + +Lala bowed again and again, spread his hands, but did not speak. + +In fact, Joseph now perceived that he was having the conversation +wholly to himself. His grandfather sat passive, listening as one who, +in a dream, hears voices but does not heed what they are saying, yet +smiling politely. Iris listened, but paid no heed. She thought that a +great deal of fuss was being made about papers, which, perhaps, were +worth nothing. And as for her inheritance, why, as she never expected +to get any, she was not going to mourn the loss of what, perhaps, was +worth nothing. + +"Very well, then," said Joseph, "that's all I've got to say. I've +given you the best advice I can, and I suppose I may go. Have you +lost your voice, Iris?" + +"No; but I think you had better go, Joseph. My grandfather is not able +to talk this morning, and I dare say your advice is very good, but we +have other advisers." + +"As for you, Mr. Lala Roy, or whatever you call yourself," said Joe +roughly, "I've warned you. Suspicion certainly will fall upon you, and +what I say is--take care. For my own part I never did believe in +niggers, and I wouldn't have one in my house." + +Lala Roy bowed again and spread his fingers. + +Then Joseph went away. The door between the shop and the hall was half +open, and he looked in. A strange man was sitting in the outer shop, a +pipe in his mouth, and James was leaning his head upon his hands, with +wild and haggard eyes gazing straight before him. + +"Poor devil," murmured Joseph. "I feel for him, I do indeed. He had +the key made--for himself; he certainly let me use it once, but only +once, and who's to prove it? And he's had the opportunity every day of +using it himself. That's very awkward, Foxy, my boy. If I were Foxy, I +should be in a funk, myself." + +He strolled away, thinking that all promised well. Lotty most +favorably and unsuspiciously received in her new character; no one +knowing the contents of the packet; his grandfather gone silly; and +for himself, he had had the opportunity of advising exactly what he +wished to be done--namely, that silence and inaction should be +observed for a space, in order to give the holders of the property a +chance of offering terms. What better advice could he give? And what +line of action would be better or safer for himself? + +If James had known who was in the house-passage, the other side of the +door, there would, I think, have been a collision of two solid bodies. +But he did not know, and presently Lala Roy came back, and the torture +began again. James took down books and put them up again; he moved +about feverishly, doing nothing, with a duster in his hand; but all +the time he felt those deep accusing eyes upon him with a silence +worse than a thousand questions. He knew--he was perfectly +certain--that he should be found out. And all the trouble for nothing! +and the Bailiff's man in possession, and the safe robbed, and those +eyes upon him, saying, as plain as eyes could speak, "Thou art the +Man!" + +"And Joe is the man," said James; "not me at all. What I did was +wrong, but I was tempted. Oh, what a precious liar and villain he is! +And what a fool I've been!" + +The day passed more slowly than it seemed possible for any day to +pass; always the man in the shop; always the deep eyes of the silent +Hindoo upon him. It was a relief when, once, Mr. Chalker looked in and +surveyed the shelves with a suspicious air, and asked if the old man +had by this time listened to reason. + +It is the business of him who makes plunder out of other men's +distresses--as the jackal feeds upon the offal and the putrid +carcass--to know as exactly as he can how his fellow-creatures are +situated. For this reason such a one doth diligently inquire, listen, +pick up secrets, put two and two together, and pry curiously into +everybody's affairs, being never so happy as when he gets an +opportunity of going to the rescue of a sinking man. Thus among those +who lived in good repute about the lower end of the King's Road, none +had a better name than Mr. Emblem, and no one was considered to have +made more of his chances. And it was with joy that Mr. Chalker +received Joe one evening and heard from him the dismal story, that if +he could not find fifty pounds within a few hours, he was ruined. The +fifty pounds was raised on a bill bearing Mr. Emblem's name. When it +was presented, however, and the circumstances explained, the old +gentleman, who had at first refused to own the signature, accepted it +meekly, and told no one that his grandson had written it himself, +without the polite formality of asking permission to sign for him. In +other words Joseph was a forger, and Mr. Chalker knew it, and this +made him the more astonished when Mr. Emblem did not take up the bill, +but got it renewed quarter after quarter, substituting at length a +bill of sale, as if he was determined to pay as much as possible for +his grandson's sins. + +"Where is he?" asked the money-lender angrily. "Why doesn't he come +down and face his creditors?" + +"Master's upstairs," said James, "and you've seen yourself, Mr. +Chalker, that he is off his chump. And oh, sir, who would have thought +that Emblem's would have come to ruin?" + +"But there's something, James--Come, think--there must be something." + +"Mr. Joseph said there were thousands. But he's a terrible liar--oh, +Mr. Chalker, he's a terrible liar and villain! Why, he's even deceived +me!" + +"What? Has he borrowed your money?" + +"Worse--worse. Do you know where I could find him, sir?" + +"Well, I don't know--" Mr. Chalker was not in the habit of giving +addresses, but in this case, perhaps Joe might be squeezed as well as +his grandfather. Unfortunately that bill with the signature had been +destroyed. "I don't know. Perhaps if I find out I may tell you. And, +James, if you can learn anything--this rubbish won't fetch half the +money--I'll make it worth your while, James, I will indeed." + +"I'll make him take his share," said James to himself. "If I have to +go to prison, he shall go too. They sha'n't send me without sending +him." + +He looked round. The watchful eyes were gone. The Hindoo had gone away +noiselessly. James breathed again. + +"After all," he said, "how are they to find out? How are they to prove +anything? Mr. Joseph took the things, and I helped him to a key; and +he isn't likely to split, and--oh, Lord, if they were to find it!" For +at that moment he felt the duplicate key in his waistcoat-pocket. "If +they were to find it!" + +He took the key out, and looked at the bright and innocent-looking +thing, as a murderer might look at his blood stained dagger. + +Just then, as he gazed upon it, holding it just twelve inches in front +of his nose, one hand was laid upon his shoulder, and another took the +key from between his fingers. + +He turned quickly, and his knees gave way, and he sunk upon the floor, +crying: + +"Oh, Mr. Lala Roy, sir, Mr. Lala Roy, I am not the thief! I am +innocent! I will tell you all about it! I will confess all to you! I +will indeed! I will make atonement! Oh, what a miserable fool I've +been!" + +"Upon the heels of Folly," said the Sage, "treadeth Shame. You will +now be able to understand the words of wisdom, which say of the wicked +man, 'The curse of iniquity pursueth him; he liveth in continual fear; +the anxiety of his mind taketh vengeance upon him.' Stand up and +speak." + +The Man in Possession looked on as if an incident of this kind was too +common in families for him to take any notice of it. Nothing, in fact, +is able to awaken astonishment in the heart of the Man in Possession, +because nothing is sacred to him except the "sticks" he has to guard. +To Iris, the event was, however, of importance, because it afforded +Lala Roy a chance of giving Arnold that photograph, no other than an +early portrait of Mr. Emblem's grandson. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +IS THIS HIS PHOTOGRAPH? + + +The best way to get a talk with his cousin was to dine with her. +Arnold therefore went to Chester Square next day with the photograph +in his pocket. It was half an hour before dinner when he arrived, and +Clara was alone. + +"My dear," she cried with enthusiasm, "I am charmed--I am +delighted--with Iris." + +"I am glad," said Arnold mendaciously. + +"I am delighted with her--in every way. She is more and better than I +could have expected--far more. A few Americanisms, of course--" + +"No doubt," said Arnold. "When I saw her I thought they rather +resembled Anglicisms. But you have had opportunities of judging. You +have in your own possession," he continued, "have you not, all the +papers which establish her identity?" + +"Oh, yes; they are all locked up in my strong-box. I shall be very +careful of them. Though, of course, there is no one who has to be +satisfied except myself. And I am perfectly satisfied. But then I +never had any doubt from the beginning. How could there be any doubt?" + +"How, indeed?" + +"Truth, honor, loyalty, and candor, as well as gentle descent, are +written on that girl's noble brow, Arnold, plain, so that all may +read. It is truly wonderful," she went on, "how the old gentle blood +shows itself, and will break out under the most unexpected conditions. +In her face she is not much like her father; that is true; though +sometimes I catch a momentary resemblance, which instantly disappears +again. Her eyes are not in the least like his, nor has she his manner, +or carriage, or any of his little tricks and peculiarities--though, +perhaps, I shall observe traces of some of them in time. But +especially she resembles him in her voice. The tone--the +timbre--reminds me every moment of my poor Claude." + +"I suppose," said Arnold, "that one must inherit something, if it is +only a voice, from one's father. Have you said anything to her yet +about money matters, and a settlement of her claims?" + +"No, not yet. I did venture, last night, to approach the subject, but +she would not hear of it. So I dropped it. I call that true delicacy, +Arnold--native, instinctive, hereditary delicacy." + +"Have you given any more money to the American gentleman who brought +her home?" + +"Iris made him take a hundred pounds, against his will, to buy books +with, for he is not rich. Poor fellow! It went much against the grain +with him to take the money. But she made him take it. She said he +wanted books and instruments, and insisted on his having at least a +hundred pounds. It was generous of her. Yes; she is--I am convinced--a +truly generous girl, and as open-handed as the day. Now, would a +common girl, a girl of no descent, have shown so much delicacy and +generosity?" + +"By the way, Clara, here is a photograph. Does it belong to you? I--I +picked it up." + +He showed the photograph which Lala Roy had given him. + +"Oh, yes; it is a likeness of Dr. Washington, Iris's adopted brother +and guardian. She must have dropped it. I should think it was taken a +few years back, but it is still a very good likeness. A handsome man, +is he not? He grows upon one rather. His parting words with Iris +yesterday were very dignified and touching." + +"I will give it to her presently," he replied, without further +comment. + +There was, then, no doubt. The woman was an impostor, and the man was +the thief, and the papers were the papers which had been stolen from +the safe, and Iris Deseret was no other than his own Iris. But he must +not show the least sign of suspicion. + +"What are you thinking about, Arnold?" asked Clara. "Your face is as +black as thunder. You are not sorry that Iris has returned, are you?" + +"I was thinking of my engagement, Clara." + +"Why, you are not tired of it already? An engaged man, Arnold, ought +not to look so gloomy as that." + +"I am not tired of it yet. But I am unhappy as regards some +circumstances connected with it. Your disapproval, Clara, for one. My +dear cousin, I owe so much to you, that I want to owe you more. Now, I +have a proposition--a promise--to make to you. I am now so sure, so +very sure and certain, that you will want me to marry Miss Aglen--and +no one else--when you once know her, that I will engage solemnly not +to marry her unless you entirely approve. Let me owe my wife to you, +as well as everything else." + +"Arnold, you are not in earnest." + +"Quite in earnest." + +"But I shall never approve. Never--never--never! I could not bring +myself, under any circumstances that I can conceive, to approve of +such a connection." + +"My dear cousin, I am, on the other hand, perfectly certain that you +will approve. Why, if I were not quite certain, do you think I should +have made this promise? But to return to your newly-found cousin. Tell +me more about her." + +"Well, I have discovered that she is a really very clever and gifted +girl. She can imitate people in the most wonderful way, especially +actresses, though she has only been to a theater once or twice in her +life. At Liverpool she heard some one sing what she calls a Tropical +Song, and this she actually remembers--she carried it away in her +head, every word--and she can sing it just as they sing it on the +stage, with all the vulgarity and gestures imitated to the very life. +Of course I should not like her to do this before anybody else, but it +is really wonderful." + +"Indeed!" said Arnold. "It must be very clever and amusing." + +"Of course," said Clara, with colossal ignorance, "an American lady +can hardly be expected to understand English vulgarities. No doubt +there is an American variety." + +Arnold thought that a vulgar song could be judged at its true value by +any lady, either American or English, but he said nothing. + +And then the young lady herself appeared. She had been driving about +with Clara among various shops, and now bore upon her person the +charming result of these journeys, in the shape of a garment, which +was rich in texture, and splendid in the making. And she really was a +handsome girl, only with a certain air of being dressed for the stage. +But Arnold, now more than suspicious, was not dazzled by the gorgeous +raiment, and only considered how his cousin could for a moment imagine +this person to be a lady, and how it would be best to break the news. + +"Clara's cousin," she said, "I have forgotten your name; but how do +you do, again?" + +And then they went in to dinner. + +"You have learned, I suppose," said Arnold, "something about the +Deseret family by this time?" + +"Oh, yes, I have heard all about the family-tree. I dare say I shall +get to know it by heart in time. But you don't expect me all at once, +to care much for it." + +"Little Republican!" said Clara. "She actually does not feel a pride +in belonging to a good old family." + +The girl made a little gesture. + +"Your family can't do much for you, that I can see, except to make you +proud, and pretend not to see other women in the shop. That is what +the county ladies do." + +"Why, my dear, what on earth do you know of the county ladies?" + +Lotty blushed a little. She had made a mistake. But she quickly +recovered. + +"I only know what I've read, cousin, about any kind of English ladies. +But that's enough, I'm sure. Stuck-up things!" + +And again she observed, from Clara's pained expression, that she had +made another mistake. + +If she showed a liking for stout at lunch, she manifested a positive +passion for champagne at dinner. + +"I do like the English custom," she said, "of having two dinners in +the day." + +"Ladies in America, I suppose," said Clara, "dine in the middle of the +day?" + +"Always." + +"But I have visited many families in New York and Boston who dined +late," said Arnold. + +"Dare say," she replied carelessly. "I'm going to have some more of +that curry stuff, please. And don't ask any more questions, anybody, +till I've worried through with it. I'm a wolf at curry." + +"She likes England, Arnold," said Clara, covering up this remark, so +to speak. "She likes the country, she says, very much." + +"At all events," said the girl, "I like this house, which is +first-class--fine--proper. And the furniture, and pictures, and +all--tiptop. But I'm afraid it is going to be awful dull, except at +meals, and when the Boy is going." Her own head was just touched by +the "Boy," and she was a little off her guard. + +"My dear child," said Clara, "you have only just come, and you have +not yet learned to know and love your own home and your father's +friends. You must take a little time." + +"Oh, I'll take time. As long as you like. But I shall soon be tired of +sitting at home. I want to go about and see things--theaters and +music-halls, and all kinds of places." + +"Ladies, in England, do not go to music-halls," said Arnold. + +"Gentlemen do. Why not ladies, then? Answer me that. Why can't ladies +go, when gentlemen go? What is proper for gentlemen is proper for +ladies. Very well, then, I want to go somewhere every night. I want to +see everything there is to see, and to hear all that there is to +hear." + +"We shall go, presently, a good deal into society," said Clara +timidly. "Society will come back to town very soon now--at least, some +of it." + +"Oh, yes, I dare say. Society! No, thank you, with company manners. I +want to laugh, and talk, and enjoy myself." + +The champagne, in fact, had made her forget the instructions of her +tutor. At all events, she looked anything but "quiet," with her face +flushed and her eyes bright. Suddenly she caught Arnold's expression +of suspicion and watchfulness, and resolutely subdued a rising +inclination to get up from the table and have a walk round with a +snatch of a Topical Song. + +"Forgive me, Clara," she murmured in her sweetest tone, "forgive me, +cousin. I feel as if I must break out a bit, now and then. Yankee +manners, you know. Let me stay quiet with you for a while. You know +the thought of starched and stiff London society quite frightens me. I +am not used to anything stiff. Let me stay at home quiet, with you." + +"Dear girl!" cried Clara, her eyes filling with tears; "she has all +Claude's affectionate softness of heart." + +"I believe," said Arnold, later on in the evening, "that she must have +been a circus rider, or something of that sort. What on earth does +Clara mean by the gentle blood breaking out? We nearly had a breaking +out at dinner, but it certainly was not due to the gentle blood." + +After dinner, Arnold found her sitting on a sofa with Clara, who was +telling her something about the glories of the Deseret family. He was +half inclined to pity the girl, or to laugh--he was not certain +which--for the patience with which she listened, in order to make +amends for any bad impression she might have produced at dinner. He +asked her, presently, if she would play. She might be, and certainly +was, vulgar; but she could play well and she knew good music. People +generally think that good music softens manners, and does not permit +those who play and practice it to be vulgar. But, concerning this +young person, so much could not be said with any truth. + +"You play very well. Where did you learn? Who was your master?" Arnold +asked. + +She began to reply, but stopped short. He had very nearly caught her. + +"Don't ask questions," she said. "I told you not to ask questions +before. Where should I learn, but in America? Do you suppose no one +can play the piano, except in England? Look here," she glanced at her +cousin. "Do you, Mr. Arbuthnot, always spend your evenings like this?" + +"How like this?" + +"Why, going around in a swallow tail to drawing-rooms with the women, +like a tame tom-cat. If you do, you must be a truly good young man. If +you don't, what do you do?" + +"Very often I spend my evenings in a drawing-room." + +"Oh, Lord! Do most young Englishmen carry on in the same proper way?" + +"Why not?" + +"Don't they go to music-halls, please, and dancing cribs, and such?" + +"Perhaps. But what does it concern us to know what some men do?" + +"Oh, not much. Only if I were a man like you, I wouldn't consent to be +a tame tom-cat--that is all; but perhaps you like it." + +She meant to insult and offend him so that he should not come any +more. + +But she did not succeed. He only laughed, feeling that he was getting +below the surface, and sat down beside the piano. + +"You amuse me," he said, "and you astonish me. You are, in fact, the +most astonishing person I ever met. For instance, you come from +America, and you talk pure London slang with a cockney twang. How did +it get there?" + +In fact, it was not exactly London slang, but a patois or dialect, +learned partly from her husband, partly from her companions, and +partly brought from Gloucester. + +"I don't know--I never asked. It came wrapped up in brown paper, +perhaps, with a string round it." + +"You have lived in America all your life, and you look more like an +Englishwoman than any other girl I have ever seen." + +"Do I? So much the better for the English girls; they can't do better +than take after me. But perhaps--most likely, in fact--you think that +American girls all squint, perhaps, or have got humpbacks? Anything +else?" + +"You were brought up in a little American village, and yet you play in +the style of a girl who has had the best masters." + +She did not explain--it was not necessary to explain--that her master +had been her father who was a teacher of music. + +"I can't help it, can I?" she asked; "I can't help it if I turned out +different to what you expected. People sometimes do, you know. And +when you don't approve of a girl, it's English manners, I suppose, to +tell her so--kind of encourages her to persevere, and pray for better +luck next time, doesn't it? It's simple too, and prevents any foolish +errors--no mistake afterward, you see. I say, are you going to come +here often; because, if you are, I shall go away back to the States or +somewhere, or stay upstairs in my own room. You and me won't get on +very well together, I am afraid." + +"I don't think you will see me very often," he replied. "That is +improbable; yet I dare say I shall come here as often as I usually +do." + +"What do you mean by that?" She looked sharply and suspiciously at +him. He repeated his words, and she perceived that there was meaning +in them, and she felt uneasy. + +"I don't understand at all," she said; "Clara tells me that this house +is mine. Now--don't you know--I don't intend to invite any but my own +friends to visit me in my own house?" + +"That seems reasonable. No one can expect you to invite people who are +not your friends." + +"Well, then, I ain't likely to call you my friend"--Arnold inclined +his head--"and I am not going to talk riddles any more. Is there +anything else you want to say?" + +"Nothing more, I think, at present, thank you." + +"If there is, you know, don't mind me--have it out--I'm nobody, of +course. I'm not expected to have any manners--I'm only a girl. You can +say what you please to me, and be as rude as you please; Englishmen +always are as rude as they can be to American girls--I've always heard +that." + +Arnold laughed. + +"At all events," he said, "you have charmed Clara, which is the only +really important thing. Good-night, Miss--Miss Deseret." + +"Good-night, old man," she said, laughing, because she bore no malice, +and had given him a candid opinion; "I dare say when you get rid of +your fine company manners, and put off your swallow tail, you're not a +bad sort, after all. Perhaps, if you would confess, you are as fond of +a kick-up on your way home as anybody. Trust you quiet chaps!" + +Clara had not fortunately heard much of this conversation, which, +indeed, was not meant for her, because the girl was playing all the +time some waltz music, which enabled her to talk and play without +being heard at the other end of the room. + + * * * * * + +Well, there was now no doubt. The American physician and the subject +of the photograph were certainly the same man. And this man was also +the thief of the safe, and Iris Aglen was Iris Deseret. Of that, +Arnold had no longer any reasonable doubt. There was, however, one +thing more. Before leaving Clara's house, he refreshed his memory as +to the Deseret arms. The quarterings of the shield were, so far, +exactly what Mr. Emblem recollected. + +"It is," said Lala Roy, "what I thought. But, as yet, not a word to +Iris." + +He then proceeded to relate the repentance, the confession, and the +atonement proposed by the remorseful James. But he did not tell quite +all. For the wise man never tells all. What really happened was this. +When James had made a clean breast and confessed his enormous share +in the villainy, Lala Roy bound him over to secrecy under pain of Law, +Law the Rigorous, pointing out that although they do not, in England, +exhibit the Kourbash, or bastinado the soles of the feet, they make +the prisoner sleep on a hard board, starve him on skilly, set him to +work which tears his nails from his fingers, keep him from +conversation, tobacco, and drink, and when he comes out, so hedge him +around with prejudice and so clothe him with a robe of shame, that no +one will ever employ him again, and he is therefore doomed to go back +again to the English Hell. Lala Roy, though a man of few words, drew +so vivid a description of the punishment which awaited his penitent +that James, foxy as he was by nature, felt constrained to resolve that +henceforth, happen what might, then and for all future, he would range +himself on the side of virtue, and as a beginning he promised to do +everything that he could for the confounding of Joseph and the +bringing of the guilty to justice. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +HIS LAST CHANCE. + + +Three days elapsed, during which nothing was done. That cause is +strongest which can afford to wait. But in those three days several +things happened. + +First of all, Mr. David Chalker, seeing that the old man was obdurate, +made up his mind to lose most of his money, and cursed Joe continually +for having led him to build upon his grandfather's supposed wealth. +Yet he ought to have known. Tradesmen do not lock up their savings in +investments for their grandchildren, nor do they borrow small sums at +ruinous interest of money-lending solicitors; nor do they give Bills +of Sale. These general rules were probably known to Mr. Chalker. Yet +he did not apply them to this particular case. The neglect of the +General Rule, in fact, may lead the most astute of mankind into ways +of foolishness. + +James, for his part, stimulated perpetually by fear of prison and loss +of character and of situation--for who would employ an assistant who +got keys made to open the safe?--showed himself the most repentant of +mortals. Dr. Joseph Washington, lulled into the most perfect security, +enjoyed all those pleasures which the sum of three hundred pounds +could purchase. Nobody knew where he was, or what he was doing. As for +Lotty, she had established herself firmly in Chester Square, and +Cousin Clara daily found out new and additional proofs of the gentle +blood breaking out! + +On the fourth morning Lala Roy sallied forth. He was about to make a +great Moral Experiment, the nature of which you will immediately +understand. None but a philosopher who had studied Confucius and Lao +Kiun, would have conceived so fine a scheme. + +First he paid a visit to Mr. Chalker. + +The office was the ground-floor front room, in one of the small +streets north of the King's Road. It was not an imposing office, nor +did it seem as if much business was done there; and one clerk of +tender years sufficed for Mr. Chalker's wants. + +"Oh!" he said, "it's our friend from India. You're a lodger of old +Emblem's, ain't you?" + +"I have lived with him for twenty years. I am his friend." + +"Very well. I dare say we shall come to terms, if he's come to his +senses. Just take a chair and sit down. How is the old man?" + +"He has not yet recovered the use of his intellect." + +"Oh! Then how can you act for him if he's off his head?" + +"I came to ask an English creditor to show mercy." + +"Mercy? What is the man talking about? Mercy! I want my money. What +has that got to do with mercy?" + +"Nothing, truly; but I will give you your money. I will give you +justice, and you shall give me mercy. You lent Mr. Emblem fifty +pounds. Will you take your fifty pounds, and leave us in peace?" + +He drew a bag out of his pocket--a brown banker's bag--and Mr. Chalker +distinctly heard the rustling of notes. + +This is a sound which to some ears is more delightful than the finest +music in the world. It awakens all the most pleasurable emotions; it +provokes desire and hankering after possession; and it fills the soul +with the imaginary enjoyment of wealth. + +"Certainly not," said Mr. Chalker, confident that better terms than +those would be offered. "If that is all you have to say, you may go +away again." + +"But the rest is usury. Think! To give fifty, and ask three hundred +and fifty, is the part of an usurer." + +"Call it what you please. The bill of sale is for three hundred and +fifty pounds. Pay that three hundred and fifty, with costs and +sheriff's poundage, and I take away my man. If you don't pay it, then +the books on the shelves and the furniture of the house go to the +hammer." + +"The books, I am informed," said Lala Roy, "will not bring as much as +a hundred pounds if they are sold at auction. As for the furniture, +some of it is mine, and some belongs to Mr. Emblem's granddaughter." + +"His granddaughter! Oh, it's a swindle," said Mr. Chalker angrily. "It +is nothing more or less than a rank swindle. The old man ought to be +prosecuted, and, mind you, I'll prosecute him, and you too, for +conspiring with him." + +"A prosecution," said the Hindoo, "will not hurt him, but it might +hurt you. For it would show how you lent him fifty pounds five years +ago; how you made him give you a bill for a hundred; how you did not +press him to pay that bill, but you continually offered to renew it +for him, increasing the amount on each time of renewal; and at last +you made him give you a bill of sale for three hundred and fifty. This +is, I suppose, one of the many ways in which Englishmen grow rich. +There are also usurers in India, but they do not, in my country, call +themselves lawyers. A prosecution. My friend, it is for us to +prosecute. Shall we show that you have done the same thing with many +others? You are, by this time, well known in the neighborhood, Mr. +Chalker, and you are so much beloved that there are many who would be +delighted to relate their experiences and dealings with so clever a +man. Have you ever studied, one asks with wonder, the Precepts of the +great Sage who founded your religion?" + +"Oh, come, don't let us have any religious nonsense!" + +"I assure you they are worth studying. I am, myself, an humble +follower of Gautama, but I have read those precepts with profit. In +the kingdom imagined by that preacher, there is no room for usurers, +Mr. Chalker. Where, then, will be your kingdom? Every man must be +somewhere. You must have a kingdom and a king." + +"This is tomfoolery!" Mr. Chalker turned red, and looked very +uncomfortable. "Stick to business. Payment in full. Those are my +terms." + +"You think, then, that the Precepts of your Sage are only intended for +men while they sit in the church? Many Englishmen think so, I have +observed." + +"Payment in full, mister. That's what I want." + +He banged his fist on the table. + +"No abatement? No mercy shown to an old man on the edge of the grave? +Think, Mr. Chalker. You will soon be as old as Mr. Emblem, your hair +as white, your reason as unsteady--" + +"Payment in full, and no more words." + +"It is well. Then, Mr. Chalker, I have another proposal to make to +you." + +"I thought we should come to something more. Out with it!" + +"I believe you are a friend of Mr. Emblem's grandson?" + +"Joe? Oh yes, I know Joe." + +"You know him intimately?" + +"Yes, I may say so." + +"You know that he forged his grandfather's name; that he is a +profligate and a spendthrift, and that he has taken or borrowed from +his grandfather whatever money he could get, and that--in short, he is +a friend of your own?" + +It was not until after his visitor had gone that Mr. Chalker +understood, and began to resent this last observation. + +"Go on," he said. "I know all about Joe." + +"Good. Then, if you can tell me anything about him which may be of use +to me I will do this. I will pay you double the valuation of Mr. +Emblem's shop, in return, for a receipt in full. If you can not, you +may proceed to sell everything by auction." + +Mr. Chalker hesitated. A valuation would certainly give a higher +figure than a forced sale, and then that valuation doubled! + +"Well," he said, "I don't know. It's a cruel hard case to be done out +of my money. How am I to find out whether anything I tell you would be +of use to you or not? What kind of thing do you want? How do I know +that if you get what you want, you won't swear it is of no use to +you?" + +"You have the word of one who never broke his word." + +Mr. Chalker laughed derisively. + +"Why," he said, "I wouldn't take the word of an English bishop--no, +nor of an archbishop--where money is concerned. What is it--what is +the kind of thing you want to know?" + +"It is concerned with a certain woman." + +"Oh, well, if it is only a woman! I thought it might be something +about money. Joe, you see, like a good many other people, has got his +own ideas about money, and perhaps he isn't so strict in his dealings +as he might be--few men are--and I should not like to let out one or +two things that only him and me know." In fact, Mr. Chalker saw, in +imagination, the burly form of Joe in his office, brandishing a stick, +and accusing him of friendship's trust betrayed. + +"But as it is only a woman--which of 'em is it?" + +"This is a young woman, said to be handsome, tall, and finely-made; +she has, I am told, light brown hair and large eyes. That is the +description of her given to me." + +"I know the girl you mean. Splendid figure, and goes well in tights?" + +"I have not been informed on that subject. Can you tell me any more +about her?" + +"I suspect, mister," said Joe's friend, with cunning eyes, "that +you've made the acquaintance of a certain widow that was--married +woman that is. I remember now, I've seen Hindoos about her lodgings, +down Shadwell way." + +"Perhaps," said Lala, "and perhaps not." His face showed not the least +sign which could be read. "You can tell me afterward what you know of +the woman at Shadwell." + +"Well, then, Joe thinks I know nothing about it. Else I wouldn't tell +you. Because I don't want a fight with Joe. Is this any use to you? He +is married to the girl as well as to the widow." + +"He is married to the girl as well as to the widow. He has, then, two +wives. It is against the English custom, and breaks the English law. +The young wife who is beautiful, and the old wife who has the +lodging-house. Very good. What is the address of this woman?" + +Mr. Chalker looked puzzled. + +"Don't you know it, then? What are you driving at?" + +"What is the name and address of this Shadwell woman?" + +"Well, then"--he wrote an address and handed it over--"you may be as +close as you like. I don't care. It isn't my business. But you won't +make me believe you don't know all about her. Look here, whatever +happens, don't say I told you." + +"It shall be a secret," said Lala, taking out the bag of notes. "Let +us complete the business at once, Mr. Chalker. Here is another offer. +I will give you two hundred pounds in discharge of your whole claim, +or you shall have a valuation made, if you prefer it, and I will +double the amount." + +Mr. Chalker chose the former promptly, and in a few moments handed +over the necessary receipts, and sent his clerk to recall the Man in +Possession. + +"What are you going to do with Joe?" he asked. "No good turn, I'll +swear. And a more unforgiving face than yours I never set eyes on. It +isn't my business, but I'll give you one warning. If you make Joe +desperate, he'll turn on you; and Lord help your slender ribs if Joe +once begins. Don't make him desperate. And now I'll tell you another +thing. First, the woman at Shadwell is horribly jealous. She'll make a +row. Next, the young one, who sings at a music-hall, she's desperately +in love with her husband--more than he is with her--and if a woman's +in love with a man, there's one thing she never forgives. You +understand what that is. Between the pair, Joe's likely to have a +rough time." + +"I do. I have had many wives myself." + +"Oh, Lord, he says he's had many wives! How many?" + +Lala Roy read the receipt, and put it in his pocket. Then he rose and +remarked, with a smile of supreme superiority: + +"It is a pleasure to give money to you, and to such as you, Mr. +Chalker." + +"Is it?" he replied with a grin. "Give me some more, then." + +"You are one of those who, the richer they become, the less harm they +do. Many Englishmen are of this disposition. When they are poor they +are jackals, hyenas, wolves, and man-eating tigers; when they are rich +they are benevolent and charitable, and show mercy unto the wretched +and the poor. So that, in their case, the words of the Wise Man are +naught, when he says that the earth is barren of good things where she +hoardeth treasure; and that where gold is in her bowels no herb +groweth. Pray, Mr. Chalker, pray earnestly for gold in order that you +may become virtuous." + +Mr. Chalker grinned, but looked uncomfortable. + +"I will, mister," he said, "I will pray with all my might." + +Nevertheless, he remained for the space of the whole morning in +uneasiness. The words of the Philosopher troubled him. I do not go so +far as to say that his mind went back to the days when he was young +and innocent, because he was still young, and he never had been +innocent; nor do I say that a tear rose to his eyes and trickled down +his cheek, because nothing brought tears into his eyes except a speck +of dust; or that he resolved to confine himself for the future to +legitimate lawyer's work, because he would then have starved. I only +say that he felt uncomfortable and humiliated, and chiefly so because +an old man with white hair and a brown skin--hang it! a common +nigger--had been able to bring discord into the sweet harmony of his +thoughts. + +Lala Roy then betook himself to Joe's former lodgings, and asked for +that gentleman's present address. + +The landlady professed to know nothing. + +"You do know, however," he persisted, reading knowledge in her eyes. + +"Is it trouble you mean for him?" asked the woman, "and him such a +fine, well-set-up young man, too! Is it trouble? Oh, dear, I always +thought he got his money on the cross. Look here. I ain't going to +round on him, though he has gone away and left a comfortable room. So +there! And you may go." + +Lala Roy opened his hand. There were at least five golden sovereigns +glorifying his dingy palm. + +"Can gold," the moralist asked, "ever increase the virtue of man? +Woman, how much?" + +"Is it trouble?" she repeated, looking greedily at the money. "Will +the young man get copped?" + +Lala understood no London slang. But he showed his hand again. + +"How much? Who so is covetous let him know that his heart is poor. How +much?" + +"Poor young man! I'll take them all, please, sir. What's he done?" + +"Where does he live?" + +"I know where he lives," she said, "because our Bill rode away with +him at the back of his cab, and saw where he got out. He's married +now, and his wife sings at the music-hall, and he lives on her +earnings. Quite the gentleman he is now, and smokes cigars all day +long. There's his address, and thank you for the money. Oh," she said +with a gasp. "To think that people can earn five pounds so easy." + +"May the gold procure you happiness--such happiness as you desire!" +said Lala Roy. + +"It will nearly pay the quarter's rent. And that's about happiness +enough for one morning." + +Joe was sitting in his room alone, half asleep. In fact, he had a head +upon him. He sprung to his feet, however, when he saw Lala Roy. + +"Hallo!" he cried. "You here, Nig? How the devil did you find out my +address?" + +There was not only astonishment, but some alarm upon his countenance. + +"Never mind. I want a little conversation with you, Mr. Joseph." + +"Well, sit down and let us have it out. I say, have you come to tell +me that you did sneak those papers, after all? What did you get for +them?" + +"I have not come to tell you that. I dare say, however, we shall be +able, some day, to tell you who did steal the papers--if any were +stolen, that is." + +"Quite so, my jolly mariner. If any were stolen. Ho, ho! you've got to +prove that first, haven't you? How's the old man?" + +"He is ill; he is feeble with age; he is weighed down with misfortune. +I am come, Mr. Joseph, to ask your help for him." + +"My help for him? Why, can't he help himself?" + +"Four or five years ago he incurred a debt for one who forged his +name. He needed not to have paid that money, but he saved a man from +prison." + +"Who was that? Who forged his name?" + +"I do not name that man, whose end will be confusion, unless he repent +and make amends. This debt has grown until it is too large for him to +pay it. Unless it is paid, his whole property, his very means of +living, will be sold by the creditor." + +"How can I pay him back? It is three hundred and fifty pounds now," +said Joseph. + +"Man, thou hast named thyself." + +Joseph stammered but blustered still. + +"Well--then--what the devil do you mean--you and your forgery?" + +"Forgery is one crime: you have since committed, perhaps, others. +Think. You have been saved once from prison. Will any one save you a +second time? How have you shown your gratitude? Will you now do +something for your benefactor?" + +"What do you mean, I say? What do you mean by your forgery and prison? +Hang me, if I oughtn't to kick you out of the room. I would, too, if +you were ten years younger. Do you know, sir, that you are addressing +an officer and a gentleman?" + +"There is sometimes, even at the very end, a door opened for +repentance. The door is open now. Young man, once more, consider. Your +grandfather is old and destitute. Will you help him?" + +Joseph hesitated. + +"I don't believe he is poor. He has saved up all his money for the +girl; let her help him." + +"You are wrong. He has saved nothing. His granddaughter maintains +herself by teaching. He has not a penny. You have got from him, and +you have spent all the money he had." + +"He ought to have saved." + +"He could, at least, have lived by his calling but for you and for +this debt which was incurred by you. He is ruined by it. What will you +do for him?" + +"I am not going to do anything for him," said Joseph. "Is it likely? +Did he ever have anything but a scowl for me?" + +"He who injures another is always in the wrong. You will, then, do +nothing? Think. It is the open door. He is your grandfather; he has +kept you from starvation when you were turned out of office for drink +and dishonesty. I heard that you now have money. I have been told that +you have been seen to show a large sum of money. Will you give him +some?" + +As a matter of fact, Joe had been, the night before, having a festive +evening at the music-hall, from which his wife was absent, owing to +temporary indisposition. While there, he took so much Scotch whisky +and water that his tongue was loosened and he became boastful; and +that to so foolish an extent that he actually brandished in the eyes +of the multitude a whole handful of banknotes. He now remembered this, +and was greatly struck by the curious fact that Lala Roy should seem +to know it. + +"I haven't got any money. It was all brag last night. I couldn't help +my grandfather if I wanted to." + +"You have what is left of three hundred pounds," said Lala Roy. + +"If I said that last night," replied Joe, "I must have been drunker +than I thought. You old fool! the flimsies were duffers. Where do you +think I could raise three hundred pounds? No, no--I'm sorry for the +old man, but I can't help him. I'm going to see him again in a day or +two. We jolly sailors don't make much money, but if a pound or two, +when I come home, will be of any use to him, he's only got to say the +word. After all, I believe it's a kid, got up between you. The old man +must have saved something." + +"You will suffer him, then, even to be taken to the workhouse?" + +"Why, I can't help it, and I suppose you'll have to go there too. Ho, +ho! I say, Nig!" He began to laugh. "Ho, ho! They won't let you wear +that old fez of yours at the workhouse. How beautiful you'll look in +the workhouse uniform, won't you? I'll come home, and bring you some +'baccy. Now you can cheese it, old 'un." + +"I will go, if that is what you mean. It is the last time that you +will be asked to help your grandfather. The door is closed. You have +had one more chance, and you have thrown it away." + +So he departed, and Joe, who was of a self-reliant and sanguine +disposition, thought nothing of the warning, which was therefore +thrown away and wasted. + +As for Lala, he called a cab, and drove to Shadwell. And if any man +ever felt that he was an instrument set apart to carry out a scheme of +vengeance, that Hindoo philosopher felt like one. The Count of Monte +Cristo himself was not more filled with the faith and conviction of +his divine obligation. + +In the afternoon he returned to Chelsea, and perhaps one who knew him +might have remarked upon his face something like a gleam of +satisfaction. He had done his duty. + +It was now five days since the fatal discovery. Mr. Emblem still +remained upstairs in his chair; but he was slowly recovering. He +clearly remembered that he had been robbed, and the principal sign of +the shock was his firm conviction that by his own exercise of memory +Iris had been enabled to enter into possession of her own. + +As regards the Bill of Sale, he had clean forgotten it. Now, in the +morning, there happened a thing which surprised James very much. The +Man in Possession was recalled. He went away. So that the money must +have been paid. James was so astonished that he ran upstairs to tell +Iris. + +"Then," said the girl, "we shall not be turned out after all. But who +has paid the money?" + +It could have been no other than Arnold. Yet when, later in the day, +he was taxed with having committed the good action, Arnold stoutly +denied it. He had not so much money in the world, he said; in fact, he +had no money at all. + +"The good man," said the Philosopher, "has friends of whom he knoweth +not. As the river returns its waters to the sea, so the heart +rejoiceth in returning benefits received." + +"Oh, Lala," said Iris. "But on whom have we conferred any benefits?" + +"The moon shines upon all alike," said Lala, "and knows not what she +illumines." + +"Lala Roy," said Arnold, suddenly getting a gleam of intelligence, "it +is you who have paid this money." + +"You, Lala?" + +"No one else could have paid it," said Arnold. + +"But I thought--I thought--" said Iris. + +"You thought I had no money at all. Children, I have some. One may +live without money in Hindostan, but in England even the Philosopher +cannot meditate unless he can pay for food and shelter. I have money, +Iris, and I have paid the usurer enough to satisfy him. Let us say no +more." + +"Oh, Lala!" The tears came to Iris's eyes. "And now we shall go on +living as before." + +"I think not," he replied. "In the generations of Man, the seasons +continue side by side; but spring does not always continue with +winter." + +"I know, now," interrupted Mr. Emblem, suddenly waking into life and +recollection; "I could not remember at first. Now I know very well, +but I cannot tell how, that the man who stole my papers is my own +grandson. James would not steal. James is curious; he wants to read +over my shoulders what I am writing. He would pry and find out. But he +would not steal. It doesn't matter much--does it?--since I was able to +repair the loss--I always had a most excellent memory--and Iris has +now received her inheritance; but it is my grandson Joe who has stolen +the papers. My daughter's son came home from Australia when--but this +I learned afterward--he had already disgraced himself there. He ran +into debt, and I paid his debts; he forged my name and I accepted the +bill; he took all the money I could let him have, and still he asked +for more. There is no one in the world who would rob me of those +papers except Joseph." + +Now, the door was open to the staircase, and the door of communication +between the shop and the house-passage was also open. This seems a +detail hardly worth noting; yet it proved of the greatest importance. +From such small trifles follow great events. Observe that as yet no +positive proof was in the hands of the two conspirators which would +actually connect Iris with Claude Deseret. The proofs were in the +stolen papers, and though Clara had those papers, who was to show that +these papers were actually those in the sealed packet? + +When Mr. Emblem finished speaking, no one replied, because Arnold and +Lala knew the facts already, but did not wish to spread them abroad: +and next, because to Iris it was nothing new that her cousin was a bad +man, and because she thought, now that the Man in Possession was gone, +they might just as well forget the papers, and go on as if all this +fuss had not happened. + +In the silence that followed this speech, they heard the voice of +James down-stairs, saying: + +"I am sorry to say, sir, that Mr. Emblem is ill upstairs, and you +can't see him to-day." + +"Ill, is he? I am very sorry. Take him my compliments, James. Mr. +Frank Farrar's compliments, and tell him--" + +And then Mr. Emblem sprung to his feet, crying: + +"Stop him! stop him! Go down-stairs, some one, and stop him! I don't +know where he lives. Stop him! stop him!" + +Arnold rushed down the stairs. He found in the shop an elderly +gentleman, carrying a bundle of books. It was, in fact, Mr. Farrar +come to negotiate the sale of another work from his library. + +"I beg your pardon, sir," said Arnold, "Mr. Emblem is most anxious to +see you. Would you step upstairs?" + +"Quick, Mr. Farrar--quick," the old man held him tight by the hand. +"Tell me before my memory runs away with me again--tell me. Listen, +Iris! Yet it doesn't matter, because you have already--Tell me--" He +seemed about to wander again, but he pulled himself together with a +great effort. "You knew my son-in-law before his marriage?" + +"Surely, Mr. Emblem; I knew your son-in-law, and his father, and all +his people." + +"And his name was not Aglen, at all?" asked Arnold. + +"No; he took the name of Aglen from a fancied feeling of pride when he +quarreled with his father about--well, it was about his marriage, as +you know, Mr. Emblem; he came to London, and tried to make his way by +writing, and thought to do it, and either to hide a failure or +brighten a success, by using a pseudonym. People were more jealous +about their names in those days. He had better," added the +unsuccessful veteran of letters, "he had far better have made his +living as a--as a"--he looked about him for a fitting simile--"as a +bookseller." + +"Then, sir," said Arnold, "what was his real name?" + +"His name was Claude Deseret, of course." + +"Iris," said Arnold, taking her hand, "this is the last proof. We have +known it for four or five days, but we wanted the final proof, and now +we have it. My dear, you are the cousin of Clara Holland, and all her +fortune, by her grandfather's will, is yours. This is the secret of +the safe. This was what the stolen papers told you." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE HAND OF FATE. + + +At the first stroke of noon next day, Arnold arrived at his cousin's +house in Chester Square. He was accompanied by Iris, by Lala Roy, and +by Mr. Frank Farrar. + +"Pray, Arnold, what is meant by all this mystery?" asked Clara, +receiving him and his party with considerable surprise. + +"I will explain all in a few minutes, my dear Clara. Meanwhile, have +you done what you promised?" + +"Yes, I wrote to Dr. Washington. He will be here, I expect, in a few +minutes." + +"You wrote exactly in the form of words you promised me?" + +"Yes, exactly. I asked him to meet me here this morning at a quarter +past twelve, in order to discuss a few points connected with Iris's +future arrangements, before he left for America, and I wrote on the +envelope, 'Immediate and important.'" + +"Very well. He will be sure to come, I think. Perhaps your cousin will +insist upon another check for fifty pounds being given to him." + +"Arnold, you are extremely suspicious and most ungenerous about Dr. +Washington, on whose truth and disinterested honesty I thoroughly +rely." + +"We shall see. Meanwhile, Clara, I desire to present to you a young +lady of whom we have already spoken. This is Miss Aglen, who is, I +need hardly say, deeply anxious to win your good opinion. And this is +Lala Roy, an Indian gentleman who knew her father, and has lived in +the same house with her for twenty years. Our debt--I shall soon be +able to say your debt--of gratitude to this gentleman for his long +kindness to Miss Aglen--is one which can never be repaid." + +Clara gave the most frigid bow to both Iris and Lala Roy. + +"Really, Arnold, you are talking in enigmas this morning. What am I to +understand? What has this gentleman to do with my appointment with Dr. +Washington?" + +"My dear cousin, I am so happy this morning that I wonder I do not +talk in conundrums, or rondeaux, or terza rima. It is a mere chance, I +assure you. Perhaps I may break out in rhymes presently. This evening +we will have fireworks in the square, roast a whole ox, invite the +neighbors, and dance about a maypole. You shall lead off the dance, +Clara." + +"Pray go on, Arnold. All this is very inexplicable." + +"This gentleman, however, is a very old friend of yours, Clara. Do you +not recognize Mr. Frank Farrar, who used to stay at the Hall in the +old days? + +"I remember Mr. Farrar very well." Clara gave him her hand. "But I +should not have known him. Why have we never met in society during all +these years, Mr. Farrar?" + +"I suppose because I have been out of society, Miss Holland," said the +scholar. "When a man marries, and has a large family, and a small +income, and grows old, and has to see the young fellows shoving him +out at every point, he doesn't care much about society. I hope you are +well and happy." + +"I am very well, and I ought to be happy, because I have recovered +Claude's lost heiress, my cousin, Iris Deseret, and she is the best +and most delightful of girls, with the warmest heart and the sweetest +instincts of a lady by descent and birth." + +She looked severely at Arnold, who said nothing, but smiled +incredulously. + +Mr. Farrar looked from Iris to Miss Holland, bewildered. + +"And why do you come to see me to-day, Mr. Farrar--and with Arnold?" + +"Because I have undertaken to answer one question presently, which Mr. +Arbuthnot is to ask me. That is why I am here. Not but what it gives +me the greatest pleasure to see you again, Miss Holland, after so many +years." + +"Our poor Claude died in America, you know, Mr. Farrar." + +"So I have recently heard." + +"And left one daughter." + +"That also I have learned." He looked at Iris. + +"She is with me, here in this house, and has been with me for a week. +You may understand, Mr. Farrar, the happiness I feel in having with me +Claude's only daughter." + +Mr. Farrar looked from her to Arnold with increasing amazement. But he +said nothing. + +"I have appointed this morning, at Arnold's request," Clara went on, +"to have an interview, perhaps the last, with the gentleman who +brought my dear Iris from America. I say, at Arnold's request, because +he asked me to do this, and I have always trusted him implicitly, and +I hope he is not going to bring trouble upon us now, although I do +not, I confess, understand the presence of his friends or their +connection with my cousin." + +"My dear Clara," said Arnold again, "I ask for nothing but patience. +And that only for a few moments. As for the papers, you have them all +in your possession?" + +"Yes; they are locked up in my strong-box." + +"Do not, on any account, give them to anybody. However, after this +morning you will not be asked. Have you taken as yet any steps at all +for the transference of your property to--to the rightful heir?" + +"Not yet." + +"Thank goodness! And now, Clara, I will ask you, as soon as Dr. +Washington and--your cousin--are in the drawing-room, to ring the +bell. You need not explain why. We will answer the summons, and we +will give all the explanations that may be required." + +"I will not have my cousin vexed, Arnold." + +"You shall not. Your cousin shall never be vexed by me as long as I +live." + +"And Dr. Washington must not be in any way offended. Consider the +feelings of an American gentleman, Arnold. He is my guest." + +"You may thoroughly rely upon my consideration for the feelings of an +American gentleman. Go; there is a knock at the door. Go to receive +him, and, when both are in the room, ring the bell." + +Joe was in excellent spirits that morning. His interview with Lala Roy +convinced him that nothing whatever was known of the papers, therefore +nothing could be suspected. What a fool, he thought, must be his +grandfather, to have had these papers in his hands for eighteen years +and never to have opened the packet, in obedience to the injunction of +a dead man! Had it been his own case, he would have opened the papers +without the least delay, mastered the contents, and instantly claimed +the property. He would have gone on to use it for his own purposes and +private gain, and with an uninterrupted run of eighteen years, he +would most certainly have made a very pretty thing out of it. + +However, everything works well for him who greatly dares. His wife +would manage for him better than he could do it for himself. Yet a few +weeks, and the great fortune would fall into his hands. He walked all +the way to Chester Square, considering how he should spend the money. +There are some forms of foolishness, such as, say, those connected +with art, literature, charity, and work for others, which attract some +rich men, but which he was not at all tempted to commit. There were +others, however, connected with horses, races, betting, and gambling, +which tempted him strongly. In fact, Joseph contemplated spending this +money wholly on his own pleasures. Probably it would be a part of his +pleasure to toss a few crumbs to his wife. + +It is sad to record that Lotty, finding herself received with so much +enthusiasm, had already begun to fall off in her behavior. Even Clara, +who thought she discovered every hour some new point of resemblance in +the girl to her father, was fain to admit that the "Americanisms" were +much too pronounced for general society. + +Her laugh was louder and more frequent; her jests were rough and +common; she used slang words freely; her gestures were extravagant, +and she walked in the streets as if she wished every one to notice +her. It is the walk of the Music-Hall stage, and the trick of it +consists chiefly in giving, so to speak, prominence to the shoulders +and oscillation to the skirts. In fact, she was one of those ladies +who ardently desire that all the world should notice them. + +Further, in her conversation, she showed an acquaintance with certain +phases of the English lower life which was astonishing in an American +girl. But Clara had no suspicion--none whatever. One thing the girl +did which pleased her mightily. + +She was never tired of hearing about her father, and his way of +looking, standing, walking, folding his hands, and holding himself. +And constantly more and more Clara detected these little tricks in his +daughter. Perhaps she learned them. + +"My dear," she said, "to think that I ever thought you unlike your +dear father!" + +So that it made her extremely uncomfortable to detect a certain +reserve in Arnold toward the girl, and then a dislike of Arnold in the +girl herself. However, she was accustomed to act by Arnold's advice, +and consented, when he asked her, to arrange so that Arnold might meet +Dr. Washington. As if anything that so much as looked like suspicion +could be thought of for a moment! + +But the bell rang, and Arnold, followed by his party, led the way from +the morning room to the drawing room. Dr. Joseph Washington was +standing with his back to the door. The girl was dressed as if she had +just come from a walk, and was holding Clara's hand. + +"Yes, madam," he was saying softly, "I return to-morrow to America, +and my wife and my children. I leave our dear girl in the greatest +confidence in your hands. I only venture to advise that, to avoid +lawyers' expenses, you should simply instruct somebody--the right +person--to transfer the property from your name to the name of Iris. +Then you will be saved troubles and formalities of every kind. As for +me, my home is in America--" + +"No, Joseph," said Lala Roy gently; "it is in Shadwell." + +"It is a lie!" he cried, starting; "it is an infernal lie!" + +"Iris," said Arnold, "lift your veil, my dear. Mr. Farrar, who is this +young lady? Look upon this face, Clara." + +"This is the daughter of Claude Deseret," said Mr. Farrar, "if she is +the daughter of the man who married Alice Emblem, and went by the name +of Aglen." + +Clara turned a terrified face to Arnold. + +"Arnold, help me!" + +"Whose face is this?" he repeated. + +"It is--good Heavens!--it is the face of your portrait. It is Claude's +face again. They are his very eyes--" She covered her face with her +hands. "Oh, Arnold, what is it! Who is this other?" + +"This other lady, Clara, is a Music-Hall Singer, who calls herself +Carlotta Claridane, wife of this man, who is not an American at all, +but the grandson of Mr. Emblem, the bookseller, and therefore cousin +of Iris. It is he who robbed his grandfather of the papers which you +have in your possession, Clara. And this is an audacious conspiracy, +which we have been so fortunate as to unearth and detect, step by +step." + +"Oh, can such wickedness be?" said Clara; "and in my house, too?" + +"Joe," said Lotty, "the game is up. I knew it wouldn't last." + +"Let them prove it," said Joe; "let them prove it. I defy you to prove +it." + +"Don't be a fool, Joe," said his wife. "Remember," she whispered, +"you've got a pocketful of money. Let us go peaceably." + +"As for you, Nigger," said Joe, "I'll break every bone in your body." + +"Not here," said Arnold; "there will be no breaking of bones in this +house." + +Lotty began to laugh. + +"The gentle blood always shows itself, doesn't it?" she said. "I've +got the real instincts of a lady, haven't I? Oh, it was beautiful +while it lasted. And every day more and more like my father." + +"Arnold," cried poor Clara, crushed, "help me!" + +"Come," said Arnold, "you had better go at once." + +"I won't laugh at you," said Lotty. "It's a shame, and you're a good +old thing. But it did me good, it really did, to hear all about the +gentle blood. Come, Joe. Let us go away quietly." + +She took her husband's arm. Joe was standing sullen and desperate. Mr. +Chalker was right. It wanted very little more to make him fall upon +the whole party, and go off with a fight. + +"Young woman," said Lala Roy, "you had better not go outside the house +with the man. It will be well for you to wait until he has gone." + +"Why? He is my husband, whatever we have done, and I'm not ashamed of +him." + +"Is he your husband? Ask him what I meant when I said his home was at +Shadwell." + +"Come, Lotty," said Joe, with a curious change of manner. "Let us go +at once." + +"Wait," Lala repeated. "Wait, young woman, let him go first. +Pray--pray let him go first." + +"Why should I wait? I go with my husband." + +"I thought to save you from shame. But if you will go with him, ask +him again why his home is at Shadwell, and why he left his wife." + +Lotty sprung upon her husband, and caught his wrists with both hands. + +"Joe, what does he mean? Tell me he is a liar." + +"That would be useless," said Lala Roy. "Because a very few minutes +will prove the contrary. Better, however, that he should go to prison +for marrying two wives than for robbing his grandfather's safe." + +"It's a lie!" Joe repeated, looking as dangerous as a wild boar +brought to bay. + +"There was a Joseph Gallop, formerly assistant purser in the service +of the Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Company," continued +the man of fate, "who married, nine months ago, a certain widow at +Shadwell. He was turned out of the service, and he married her because +she had a prosperous lodging-house." + +"Oh--h!" cried Lotty. "You villain! You thought to live upon my +earnings, did you? You put me up to pretend to be somebody else. Miss +Holland"--she fell upon her knees, literally and simply, and without +any theatrical pretense at all--"forgive me! I am properly punished. +Oh, he is made of lies! He told me that the real Iris was dead and +buried, and he was the rightful heir; and as for you"--she sprung to +her feet and turned upon her husband--"I know it is true. I know it is +true--I can see it within your guilty eyes." + +"If you have any doubt," said Lala, "here is a copy of the +marriage-certificate." + +She took it, read it, and put it in her pocket. Then she went out of +the room without another word, but with rage and revenge in her eyes. + +Joseph followed her, saying no more. He had lost more than he thought +to lose. But there was still time to escape, and he had most of the +money in his pocket. + +But another surprise awaited him. + +The lady from Shadwell, in fact, was waiting for him outside the door. +With her were a few Shadwell friends, of the seafaring profession, +come to see fair play. It was a disgraceful episode in the history of +Chester Square. After five minutes or so, during which no welsher on a +race-course was ever more hardly used, two policemen interfered to +rescue the man of two wives, and there was a procession all the way to +the police-court, where, after several charges of assault had been +preferred and proved against half a dozen mariners, Joseph was himself +charged with bigamy, both wives giving evidence, and committed for +trial. + +His old friend, Mr. David Chalker, one is sorry to add, refused to +give bail, so that he remained in custody, and will now endure +hardness for a somewhat lengthened period. + +"Clara," said Arnold, "Iris will stay with you, if you ask her. We +shall not marry, my dear, without your permission. I have promised +that already, have I not?" + +THE END. + + + + +A YACHTSMAN'S YARN. + + +"I've knocked off the sea now for some years, but I was yachting along +with all sorts of gentlemen and in all sorts of craft, from three to +one hundred and twenty tons, ever since the top of my head was no +higher than your knee; and as boy, man, and master, I'll allow there's +no one who has seen much more than I have. Yet, spite of that, I can +recall but one extraordinary circumstance. Daresay when I've told it +you, you won't believe it; but I sha'n't be able to help that. Truth's +truth, no consequence how sing'lar its appearance may be; and so now +to begin. + +"No matter the port, no matter the yacht's name, no matter her owner's +calling, no matter nothing. Terms and dates and the like shall be +imaginary, and so let the vessel be a schooner of one hundred tons +called the 'Evangeline,' and her owner Mr. Robinson, and me, who was +captain of her, Jacob Williams. This'll furnish a creep you may go on +sweeping with till Doomsday without raising what's dead and gone, +though not forgotten, mind ye, from the bottom. Well, for a whole +fortnight had the 'Evangeline' been moored in a snug berth alongside a +pier wall. The English Channel was wide there, and it didn't need much +sailing to find the Atlantic Ocean. I began to think all cruising was +to come to an end; for Mr. Robinson was a man fond of keeping the sea, +and I had never found a fortnight's lying by to his taste at all. But +matters explained themselves after I'd seen him two or three times +walking about with a very fine-looking female party. Mr. Robinson was +a bachelor, his age I dare say about forty, with handsome whiskers, +and one of those voices that show breeding in a man; ay, and the +humblest ear that hears 'em recognizes them. I didn't take much notice +of _her_, though I reckoned her large black eyes the beautifullest I +had ever beheld in a female countenance. She seemed young--not more +than eight-and-twenty--with what they call a fine figure, though, +speaking for myself, I never had much opinion of small waists. Give +me _bong poine_, as my old master, Sir Arthur Jones, used to say; and +he ought to have known, for he had been studying female beauty for +eighty year, and died, I reckon, of it. + +"I considered it to be a case of courting, for she was a lady; there +was no mistaking that; she held her head up like one, and dressed as +real ladies do, expensively but plainly--ay, old Jacob knows; he +didn't go yachting for years for nothing. But it wasn't for me to form +opinions. My berth was an easy one--just a sprawl all day long with a +pipe in my mouth, and a good night's rest to follow; and that was all +it was my duty to think about. + +"Well, one afternoon Mr. Robinson comes aboard alone, and says to me, +'Williams, at what hour will the tide serve to-morrow night?' + +"'Why, sir,' says I, after thinking, 'there'll be plenty of water at +nine o'clock.' + +"'Then,' says he, 'see all ready, Williams, to get away to-morrow at +that hour. We're off to ----,' and he names a Mediterranean port. + +"Right, sir,' says I, though wondering a bit to myself, for the season +was pretty well advanced, and I couldn't have guessed, from what I +knew and had heard of him, that he would have pushed so far south. + +"Well, at half past eight that evening the deck was hailed by a boat +alongside, and up he comes handing a lady on board, thickly veiled, +and they both went below as if they were in a hurry. Some parcels and +a bit of a bandbox or so were chucked up to us by the watermen, who +then shoved off. There was a nice little off-shore breeze a-blowing, +and soon after nine we were clear of the harbor and sailing quietly +along, the sea smooth and the moon rising red out of a smother of +mist. Mr. Robinson came on deck and looked aloft to see what sail was +made; I was at the tiller, and stepping up to me, he says-- + +"'What d'yer think of the weather, Williams?' + +"'Why,' says I, 'it seems as if it was going to keep fair.' + +"'There can't come too much wind for me,' says he, 'short of a +hurricane. Don't spare your cloths, let it blow as it may. You +understand that?' + +"'Quite easily,' says I. + +"Now, this order I took to be as singular as our going to the +Mediterranean, for Mr. Robinson was never a man to carry on; there was +no racing in him; quiet sailing was his pleasure, and what his hurry +was all of a sudden I couldn't imagine, though I guessed that the +party in the cabin might have something to do with it. She came on +deck after we had been under way about three quarters of an hour, this +time without a veil, with what they call a turban hat on her head. +There was plenty of moonlight, and I tell you that the very shadow she +cast, and that lay like a carving of jet on ivory, looked beautiful on +the white deck, so fine her figure was. Lord, how her big eyes +flashed, too, when she drew my way and turned 'em to the moon! Being a +sober, 'spectable man myself, with correct views on the bringing up of +daughters, it seemed to be a queer start that if so be this young lady +was keeping company with Mr. Robinson--being courted by him, you +know--that her mother or some female connection wasn't along with her. +P'raps they were married, I thought; might have been spliced that very +morning. She had no gloves on, and whenever she walked with Mr. +Robinson near to me, I'd take a long squint at her left hand; but +there was no distinguishing a wedding-ring by moonshine, and even had +it been broad daylight it would have been all the same, for the jewels +lay so thick on her fingers you'd have fancied them sparkling with +dew. + +"Well, all that night it blew a soft, quiet wind, but for hours next +day 'twas all dead calm, a light swell, the sunlight coming off the +water hot as steam, and the yacht slewing round and round as if, like +the rest of us, she was trying to find out where the wind meant to +come from next. I never saw any man fret more over a calm than Mr. +Robinson did over that. The lady didn't appear discomposed; she sat +under the awning reading, and once when Mr. Robinson turned to look at +her she ran her shining black eyes with a smiling roll around the sea, +that was just the same as if she had said, 'Isn't it big enough?' for +hang me if even I couldn't read the language in them sparklers of hers +when she chose to lift the eyelashes off their meaning, unaccustomed +as Jacob Williams ever was to female ways and the customs they pursue! +But Mr. Robinson couldn't keep quiet. He kept on asking of me when I +thought the wind was coming, and he was constantly getting up and +staring round, and I'd notice he was always letting his cigar go out, +which is a sure sign that either a man don't care about smoking, or +else he's got something weighing upon his spirits. P'raps, thought I, +it's stipulated that he's not to get married anywhere but in the port +we're bound to, and that the license don't run so long as to allow for +calms; but this I said to myself, with a wink at my own thoughts, for, +though there's a good many things in this 'ere yearth that I don't +understand, I must tell you Jacob Williams wasn't born without a mind. + +"Well, time went on, and then a head-wind sprung up, with a short, +spiteful sea. I kept the yacht under a press, according to orders, and +the driving of her close-hauled, every luff trembling and the foam to +leeward as high as the rail, fairly smothered the vessel forward; +whilst as to her movements, it was dreary and aching enough, I can +tell you, the wind sweeping out of clouds of spray forward and +splitting with shrieks upon the ropes, and the canvas soaking up the +damp till every stretch might have been owned for the matter of color +by a coalman. 'Twas 'bout ship often enough, Mr. Robinson being full +of anxiety and impatience, and watching the compass for a shift of +wind as if he was a cat and there was a mouse in the binnacle. I could +have sworn the handsome party would have been beam-ended by the dance; +it turned the stomachs of two of the crew, anyhow, and one of them +said that if he had known the 'Evangeline' was to cross the bay, he'd +have found another ship; yet the lady took no notice of the weather. +She'd come up dressed in waterproofs, and her beautiful face shining +with the big eyes in it out of a hood; and the more the sea troubled +the schooner, the more the vessel labored and showed herself uneasy, +the more the lady would look pleased, laughing out at times, with +plenty of music in her voice, I allow, but with a something in it and +in the gleaming stare she'd keep on the plunging and streaming bows, +that made me calculate--don't know why, I'm sure--that lovely as she +was and beautiful as she was shaped, there was no more heart inside of +her than there's pearls in cockles. + +"Well, we had two days of this, passing a good many vessels; both +steam and sail, that were getting all they could out of what was +baffling us; then there was a shift of wind; it fell light, everything +turned dry, and we went along with all cloths showing, sailing about +five knots--not more, and I don't think less. When the change of +weather came Mr. Robinson looked more cheerful. Seemed happier, he +did, and I overheard him say to the party as they stood looking over +the starn at the wake that ran away in two white lines with a gull, or +two circling within a stone's throw in waiting for whatever the cook +had to heave overboard--I heard him say: + +"'Every mile'll make it more difficult; besides,' says he, with a +sweep of his hand, 'what a waste this is! Williams,' he sings out to +me, 'how fur off's the horizon?' + +"'Why,' I answered, 'from this height I should say a matter of six +mile and a half.'" + +'And how fur distant, Captain Williams,' says the lady, smiling +sweetly, and pretty nigh confusing my brains by the beautiful look she +gave me, 'would a vessel like ours be seen?' + +"I took time to think, with a squint at our mastheads--for we carried +long sticks--and said, 'Well, call it twelve mile, mum. It's +impossible to speak to a nicety.' + +"'And what,' I heard Mr. Robinson observe, as I turned away, 'is +twelve miles in this here watery wilderness of leagues?' + +"'And then she gave a laugh, as if some one had made her feel glad; +and it was all like music and poetry, I can tell you, her laughing, +and his softness, and the water smooth, and the yacht sailing along as +if she enjoyed it, like a hard-worked vessel out for a holiday. + +"Time passed till it come on four o'clock on the afternoon of that +day. There was a redness in the western heavens that betokened more +wind, though the sun still stood high. Meanwhile the breeze hung +steady. There was the smoke of a steamer away on our starboard +quarter, and there was nothing else in sight. I took no notice of it, +for smoke's not uncommon nowadays on the ocean; but whatever the +vessel might be, the glances I'd take at her now and again made me see +she was driving through it properly; for three-quarters of an hour +after we had sighted it, the smoke was abeam, and the funnel raised +up, showing that her course was something to the eastward of ours. I +pointed the glass at her, and made out a yellow chimney and +pole-masts--hull still below the horizon. + +"'Either a yacht, sir, or a Government dispatch boat--something of +that kind, sir,' says I to Mr. Robinson, who was sitting near me with +the lady. + +"He jumped up and took a look, and whilst he was working away with the +telescope, the breeze comes along right out of the red sky abeam where +the steamer was, with twice its former strength, roughening the blue +water into hollows, and bowing down the yacht till the slope of her +deck was like a roof. The crew jumped about shortening canvas, and the +yacht began to snore as she felt the wind. On a sudden, and as if the +steamer had only just then spied us, she altered her course by three +or four points, as one could see by the swift rising of her hull, +till, whilst the sun was still hanging a middling height over the sea +line, you could see the whole of the vessel--a long, low craft of +about one hundred and fifty tons--sweeping through the seas like an +arrow, the smoke streaming black and fat from her small, yellow +funnel, and her hull sinking out of sight one moment and reappearing +the next in a sort of jump of the whole foaming wash, as if, by Jove, +her screw would thrust her clean out of the water. + +"The lady looked at her with a sort of indifference; but Mr. Robinson +was pale enough as he handed me the glass, and said, 'Williams, see if +you know her.' + +"I took a look at her, and answered, 'It's hard to tell those steamers +till you see their names, sir; but if she's not the Violet, +belonging to General Coldsteel (of course these are false names), +she's uncommonly like her. But, law bless us! how they're driving +her! Why, there'll be a bust up if they don't look out. They'll blow +the boilers out of her!'" + +'Indeed, I never before saw any vessel rush so. She'd shear clear +through some of the larger seas, and you didn't need watch her long to +make you reckon you'd seen the last of her. Then Mr. Robinson, talking +like a man half in a rage, half in a fright, orders me to pack sail on +the schooner; but it was already blowing a single-reef breeze, and I +had no idea of losing our spars, and so I told him very firmly that +the yacht had all she needed, and that more would only stop her by +burying her: and I had my way. But we were foaming through it, too; we +wanted no more pressure; the freshening wind had worked the schooner +into a fair nine knots, and it was first-rate sailing too, considering +the character of the sea and the weight of the breeze. 'Twas now +certain beyond all question that the steamer meant to close us, though +I thought she had a queer way of doing it, for sometimes she'd head +right at us, and then put her helm down and keep on a course parallel +with ours, forging well ahead and then shifting the helm for a fresh +run at us. There was no anxiety that I could see in the lady's looks, +but Mr. Robinson was quite mightily bothered and worried and pale +enough to make me suppose that all this meant a pursuit, with a +capture to follow; and it was certain that whatever intentions the +steamer had, there was nothing in the night which was approaching to +promise us a chance of sneaking clear, for the sky was pure as glass, +and it wouldn't be long after sundown before the moon would be filling +the air with a light like morning. + +Well, sir, fathom by fathom the steamer had her way of us. She had +drawn close enough to let Mr. Robinson make out the people abroad. As +for me, I was at the helm; for there was something in the maneuvering +of the steamer that made me suspicious, and I wasn't going to trust +any man but myself at the tiller. We held on as we were; we couldn't +improve the schooner's speed by bringing the wind anywhere else than +where it was; and no good was to be done by cracking on, even though +it had, come to our dragging what we couldn't carry; for the steamer's +speed was a fair fourteen if it was a mile, and our yacht was not +going to do that, you know, or anything like it. The moon had arisen, +and the sea ran like heaving snow from the windward, and by this time +the steamer was about half a mile ahead of us, about three points on +the weather bow. She was as plain as if daylight lay on her. All the +time the party and Mr. Robinson had kept the deck, she taking a view +now and then of the steamer with an opera-glass. + +"Suddenly I yelled out, 'Mr. Robinson, by all that's holy, sir, that +vessel there means to run us down! Lads,' I shouted, 'tumble aft +quick, and see the boats all ready for lowering!' + +"The lady jumped up with a scream, and seized hold of Mr. Robinson's +arm, who seeming to forget what he was about, shook her off, and fell +to raving to me to see that the steamer didn't touch us. By thunder, +sir, there was the cowardly brute slanting her flying length as though +to cross our hawse, but clearly aiming to strike us right amidships. +I shouted to the men to make ready and 'bout ship, and a minute after +I shoved the tiller over, and the yacht rounded like a woman waltzing. +But before we had gathered way the steamer was after us. The lady sent +up scream after scream. Mr. Robinson stood motionless, seeing as plain +as I that if the steamer meant to sink us there was no seamanship in +this wide world that could stop her; and I saw the men throwing off +their shoes and half stripping themselves, ready for what was to come. + +"The steamer headed dead to strike our weather-beam; she rushed at us +with the foam boiling over her bows; once more I chucked the schooner +right up into the wind, and the steamer went past us like a rocket +under our stern. I looked at her and sha'n't ever forget what I saw. +There was a white-haired man, with white whiskers and bareheaded, +roaring and raging at us in the grasp of three or four seamen. 'Twas +like a death-struggle. A chap who looked as if he had just seized the +wheel was grinding it hard over to get away from us; and so the +steamer fled past, more like a nightmare than a reality, and in a few +minutes was standing with full speed to the norrard, where, in less +than a quarter of an hour, she faded slick out of sight. + +"It was some time after I had left the 'Evangeline' and was at home +before I got to know the meaning of this here wonderful adventure. The +party, it turned out, was no less than the wife of the general as +owned the 'Violet,' and she was running away with Mr. Robinson. May be +our men had talked about our going to the Mediterranean, but anyhow +the general who was in London at the time, got scent that his wife had +bolted with Mr. Robinson in the 'Evangeline,' and in less than +twenty-four hours he was after us in his steamer. He tracked us by +speaking the vessels we passed; and the light airs and calms we had +encountered easily allowed him to overhaul quickly. And it turned out +that when he had fairly sighted us, he sent the man at the wheel +forward, and took the helm himself. The crew dursn't express their +wonder aloud, though they knew he was no hand at steering, not to +mention the mad agitation he was in, and they let him have his way +when he headed the steamer for us, expecting that he merely wished to +close us in order to speak; but when I put my helm down and the +steamer passed, and they spied the general rounding his craft +evidently to run us down, they threw themselves upon him to save their +own lives as well as ours. That was the sight I saw as the steamer +rushed past. A few moments after they had gone clear the poor old +fellow was seized with an attack of apoplexy, which killed him right +off, and thereupon they headed right away to England with the dead +body aboard. + +"What do you think of this for a yarn? Would any one suppose such +vengefulness could exist in a white-haired man that had known his +seventieth birthday? What did he want to go and try and drown me and +my mates for? _We_ weren't running away with the female party. But the +world's full of romantic capering, sir; and I tell you what it +is--'tain't all fair sailing even in yachts, modest and pretty as the +divarsion is." + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of In Luck at Last, by Walter Besant + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN LUCK AT LAST *** + +***** This file should be named 16129.txt or 16129.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/1/2/16129/ + +Produced by Bill Tozier, Barbara Tozier, Sankar Viswanathan +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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