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diff --git a/42902-0.txt b/42902-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1adf752 --- /dev/null +++ b/42902-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10651 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42902 *** + + _BY THE SAME AUTHOR._ + + A BRIDE FROM THE BUSH. + UNDER TWO SKIES. + TINY LUTTRELL. + THE BOSS OF TAROOMBA. + THE UNBIDDEN GUEST. + THE ROGUE'S MARCH. + IRRALIE'S BUSHRANGER. + MY LORD DUKE. + + + + +YOUNG BLOOD + + +BY + +E. W. HORNUNG + + + "_When all the world is young, lad, + And all the trees are green; + And every goose a swan, lad, + And every lass a queen; + Then hey for boot and horse, lad, + And round the world away; + Young blood must have its course, lad, + And every dog his day._" + + THE WATER BABIES. + + +CASSELL AND COMPANY, LIMITED +_LONDON, PARIS & MELBOURNE_ +1898 +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + + + + +CONTENTS. + + PAGE + +CHAPTER I. + +THE OLD HOME 1 + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE BREAKING OF THE NEWS 11 + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE SIN OF THE FATHER 20 + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE NEW HOME 32 + + +CHAPTER V. + +A WET BLANKET 40 + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE GAME OF BLUFF 57 + + +CHAPTER VII. + +ON RICHMOND HILL 71 + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +A MILLIONAIRE IN THE MAKING 85 + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE CITY OF LONDON 95 + + +CHAPTER X. + +A FIRST OFFENCE 111 + + +CHAPTER XI. + +BEGGAR AND CHOOSER 122 + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE CHAMPION OF THE GODS 135 + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE DAY OF BATTLE 150 + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +A CHANGE OF LUCK 165 + + +CHAPTER XV. + +IT NEVER RAINS BUT IT POURS 175 + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +A DAME'S SCHOOL 183 + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +AT FAULT 195 + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +MR. SCRAFTON 203 + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +ASSAULT AND BATTERY 214 + + +CHAPTER XX. + +BIDING HIS TIME 226 + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +HAND TO HAND 234 + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +MAN TO MAN 247 + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +THE END OF THE BEGINNING 259 + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +YOUNG INK 276 + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +SCRAFTON'S STORY 287 + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +A MASTERSTROKE 304 + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +RESTITUTION 315 + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +A TALE APART 326 + + + + +Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected +without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been +retained as printed. The cover of this ebook was created by the +transcriber and is hereby placed in the public domain. + + + + +Young Blood. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE OLD HOME. + + +Harry Ringrose came of age on the happiest morning of his life. He was +on dry land at last, and flying north at fifty miles an hour instead of +at some insignificant and yet precarious number of knots. He would be +at home to eat his birthday breakfast after all; and half the night he +sat awake in a long ecstasy of grateful retrospect and delicious +anticipation, as one by one the familiar stations were hailed and left +behind, each an older friend than the last, and each a deadlier enemy +to sleep. Worn out by excitement, however, he lay down for a minute +between Crewe and Warrington, and knew no more until the guard came to +him at the little junction across the Westmoreland border. Harry +started up, the early sun in his sleepy eyes, and for an instant the +first-class smoking-compartment was his state-room aboard the ship +_Sobraon_, and the guard one of his good friends the officers. Then +with a rush of exquisite joy the glorious truth came home to him, and +he was up and out that instant--the happiest and the luckiest young +rascal in the land. + +It was the 19th of May, and a morning worthy the month and the +occasion. The sun had risen in a flawless sky, and the dear old English +birds were singing on all sides of the narrow platform, as Harry +Ringrose stretched his spindle-legs upon it and saw his baggage out of +the long lithe express and into the little clumsy local which was to +carry him home. The youth was thin and tall, yet not ungainly, with a +thatch of very black hair, but none upon his sun-burnt face. He was +shabbily dressed, his boots were down at heel and toe, there were +buttons missing from his old tweed coat, and he wore a celluloid collar +with his flannel shirt. On the other hand, he was travelling +first-class, and the literary supplies tucked under his arm had cost +the extravagant fellow several shillings at Euston book-stall. Yet he +had very little money in his pocket. He took it all out to count. It +amounted to five shillings and sixpence exactly, of which he gave +half-a-crown to the guard for waking him, and a shilling to a porter +here at the junction, before continuing his journey in the little +train. This left him a florin, and that florin was all the money he +possessed in the world. + +He was, however, the only child of a father who would give him as much +as he wanted, and, what was rarer, of one with sufficient sense of +humour to appreciate the prodigal's return without a penny in his +pocket or a decent garment on his back. Whether his people would be +equally pleased at being taken completely by surprise was not quite so +certain. They might say he ought to have let them know what ship he was +coming by, or at least have sent a telegram on landing. Yet all along +he had undertaken to be home for his twenty-first birthday, and it +would only have made them anxious to know that he had trusted himself +to a sailing-vessel. Fifty days instead of twenty from the Cape! It had +nearly cost him his word; but, now that it was over, the narrow margin +made the joke all the greater; and Harry Ringrose loved a joke better +than most things in the world. + +The last two years of his life had been a joke from beginning to end: +for in the name of health he had been really seeking adventure and +undergoing the most unnecessary hardships for the fun of talking about +them for the rest of his days. He pictured the first dinner-party after +his return, and the faces of some dozen old friends when they heard of +the leopards under the house, the lion in the moonlight, and (when the +ladies had withdrawn) of the notorious murderer with whom Harry had +often dined. They should perceive that the schoolboy they remembered +was no longer anything of the sort, but a man of the world who had seen +more of it than themselves. It is true that for a man of the world +Harry Ringrose was still somewhat youthfully taken up with himself and +his experiences; but his heart was rich with love of those to whom he +was returning, and his mind much too simple to be aware of its own +egotism. He only knew that he was getting nearer and nearer home, and +that the joy of it was almost unendurable. + +His face was to the carriage window, his native air streamed down his +throat and blew a white lane through his long black hair. Miles of +green dales rushed past under a network of stone walls, to change soon +to mines and quarries, which in their turn developed into furnaces and +works, until all at once the sky was no longer blue and the land no +longer green. And when Harry Ringrose looked out of the opposite +window, it was across grimy dunes that stretched to a breakwater built +of slag, with a discoloured sea beyond. + +The boy rolled up his rug and changed his cap for a villainous sombrero +preserved for the occasion. He then made a selection from his lavish +supply of periodical literature, and when he next looked out the train +was running in the very shadow of some furnaces in full blast. The +morning sun looked cool and pale behind their monstrous fires, and +Harry took off the sombrero to his father's ironworks, though with a +rather grim eye, which saw the illuminated squalor of the scene without +appreciating its prosperity. Sulphurous flames issued from all four +furnaces; at one of the four they were casting as the train passed, and +the molten incandescent stream ran white as the wire of an electric +light. + +After the works came rank upon rank of workmen's streets running right +and left of the line; then the ancient and historic quarter of the +town, with its granite houses and its hilly streets, all much as it had +been a hundred years before the discovery of iron-stone enriched and +polluted a fair countryside. Then the level-crossing, without a +creature at the gates at such an hour; finally a blank drab platform +with the long loose figure of the head-porter standing out upon it as +the homeliest sight of all. Harry clapped him on the cap as the train +drew up; but either the man had forgotten him, or he was offended, for +he came forward without a smile. + +"Well, David, how are you? Your hand, man, your hand! I'm back from the +wilds. Don't you know me?" + +"I do now, sir." + +"That's right! It does me good to see an old face like yours. Gently +with this green box, David, it's full of ostrich-eggs, that's why I had +it in the carriage. There's four more in the van; inspan the lot till +we send in for them, will you? I mean to walk up myself. Come, gently, +I say!" + +The porter had dropped the green box clumsily, and now sought to cover +his confusion by saying that the sight of Master Harry, that altered, +had taken him all aback. Young Ringrose was justly annoyed; he had +taken such care of that green box for so many weeks. But he did not +withhold the florin, which was being pocketed for a penny when the man +saw what it was and handed it back. + +"What, not enough for you?" cried Harry. + +"No, sir, too much." + +The boy stared and laughed. + +"Don't be an ass, David; I don't come home from Africa every day! If +you'd been with me you'd think yourself lucky to get home at all! You +just inspan those boxes, and we'll send for them after breakfast." + +The man mumbled that it was not worth two shillings. Harry said that +was his business. The porter hung his head. + +"I--I may have broken them eggs." + +"Oh, well, if you have, two bob won't mend 'em; cling on to it, man, +and don't drop them again." + +The loose-limbed porter turned away with the coin, but without a word, +while Harry went off in high good-humour, though a little puzzled by +the man's manner. It was not a time to think twice of trifles, however, +and, at all events, he had achieved the sportsmanlike feat of emptying +his pockets of their last coin. He strode out of the station with a +merry, ringing tread. Half the town heard him as he went whistling +through the streets and on to the outlying roads. + +The one he took was uphill and countrified. High hedgerows bloomed on +either hand, and yet you could hear the sea, and sometimes see it, and +on this side of the town it was blue and beautiful. Our wayfarer met +but one other, a youth of his own age, with whom he had played and +fought since infancy, though the families had never been intimate. +Harry halted and held out his hand, which was ignored, the other +passing with his nose in the air, and a tin can swinging at his side, +on his way to some of the works. Harry coloured up and said a hard word +softly. Then he remembered how slow his old friend the porter had been +to recognise him; and he began to think he must have grown up out of +knowledge. Besides accounting for what would otherwise have been an +inexplicable affront, the thought pleased and flattered him. He strode +on serenely as before, sniffing the Irish Sea at every step. + +He passed little lodges and great gates with never a glance at the fine +houses within: for to Harry Ringrose this May morning there were but +one house and one garden in all England. To get to them he broke at +last into a run, and only stopped when the crest of the hill brought +him, breathless, within sight of both. There was the long front wall, +with the gates at one end, the stables at the other, and the fresh +leaves bulging over every intervening brick. And down the hill, behind +the trees, against the sea, were the windows, the gables, the chimneys, +that he had been dreaming of for two long years. + +His eyes filled with a sudden rush of tears. "Thank God!" he muttered +brokenly, and stood panting in the road, with bowed bare head and +twitching lips. He could not have believed that the mere sight of home +would so move him. He advanced in an altered spirit, a sense of his own +unworthiness humbling him, a hymn of thanksgiving in his heart. + +And now the very stones were eloquent, and every yard marked by some +landmark forgotten for two years, and yet familiar as ever at the first +glance. Here was the mark a drunken cabman had left on the gatepost in +Harry's school-days; there the disused summerhouse with the window +still broken by which Harry had escaped when locked in by the very +youth who had just cut him on the road. The drive struck him as a +little more overgrown. The trees were greener than he had ever known +them, the bank of rhododendrons a mass of pink without precedent in his +recollection; but then it was many years since Harry had seen the place +so late in May, for he had gone out to Africa straight from school. + +As for the dear house, the creepers had spread upon the ruddy stone and +the tiles had mellowed, but otherwise there seemed to be no change. It +would look its old self when the blinds were up: meantime Harry fixed +his eyes upon those behind which his parents would still be fast +asleep, and he wondered, idly at first, why they had given up sleeping +with a window open. It had been their practice all the year round; and +the house had been an early-rising house; yet not a fire was +lighted--not a chimney smoking--not a window open--not a blind +drawn--though close upon seven o'clock by the silver watch that had +been with Harry through all his adventures. + +His hand shook as he put the watch back in his pocket. The possibility +of his parents being away--of his surprise recoiling upon himself--had +never occurred to him until now. How could they be away? They never +dreamt of going away before the autumn. Besides, he had told them he +was coming home in time to keep his birthday. They were not away--they +were not--they were not! + +Yet there he stood--in the sweep of the drive--but a few yards from the +steps--and yet afraid to ring and learn the truth! As though the truth +must be terrible; as though it would be a tragedy if they did happen to +be from home! + +It would serve him right if they were. + +So at last, with such a smile as a man may force on the walk to the +gallows, Harry Ringrose dragged himself slowly to the steps, and still +more slowly up them; for they were dirty; and something else about the +entrance was different, though he could not at first tell what. It was +not the bell, which he now pulled, and heard clanging in the kitchen +loud enough to rouse the house; he was still wondering what it was when +the last slow tinkling cut his speculations short. + +Strange how so small a sound should carry all the way from the kitchen! + +He rang again before peering through one of the narrow ruby panes that +lighted the porch on each side of the door. He could see no farther +than the wall opposite, for the inner door was to the right, and in the +rich crimson light the porch looked itself at first sight. Then +simultaneously Harry missed the mat, the hat stand, a stag's antlers; +and in another instant he knew what it was that had struck him as +different about the entrance. He ought not to have been able to peer +through that coloured light at all. The sill should have supported the +statuette of Night which matched a similar representation of Morning on +the other side of the door. Both were gone; and the distant bell, still +pealing lustily from his second tug, was breaking the silence of an +empty house. + +Harry was like a man waking from a trance: the birds sang loud in his +ears, the sun beat hot on his back, while he himself stood staring at +his own black shadow on the locked door, and wondering what it was, for +it never moved. Then, in a sudden frenzy, he struck his hand through +the ruby glass, and plucked out the pieces the putty still held in +place, until he was able to squeeze through bodily. Blood dripped from +his fingers and smeared the handle of the unlocked inner door as he +seized and turned it and sprang within. The hall was empty. The stairs +were bare. + +He ran into room after room; all were stripped from floor to ceiling. +The sun came in rods through the drawn blinds: on the walls were the +marks of the pictures: on the floors, a stray straw here and there. + +He cried aloud and railed in his agony. He shouted through the house, +and his voice came back to him from the attics. Suddenly, in a grate, +he espied a printed booklet. It was an auctioneer's list. The sale had +taken place that very month. + +The calmness of supreme misery now stole over Harry Ringrose, and he +saw that his fingers were bleeding over the auctioneer's list. He took +out his handkerchief and wiped them carefully--he had no tears to +staunch--and bound up the worst finger with studious deliberation. +Apathy succeeded frenzy, and, utterly dazed, he sat down on the stairs, +for there was nowhere else to sit, and for some minutes the only sound +in the empty house was the turning of the leaves of the auctioneer's +list. + +Suddenly he leapt to his feet: another sound had broken the silence, +and it was one that he seemed to have heard only yesterday: a sound so +familiar in his home, so home-like in itself, that it seemed even now +to give the lie to his wild and staring eyes. + +It was the sound of wheels in the gravel drive. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE BREAKING OF THE NEWS. + + +Harry was in three minds in as many seconds: he would hide, he would +rush out and learn the truth, he would first see who it was that had +followed him at such an hour. The last impulse prevailed, and the study +was the room from which to peep. Harry crept in on tiptoe, past the +bookshelves eloquently bare, to the bow-window with the drawn Venetian +blinds. Slightly raising one of the laths, he could see everything as +the cab drew up at the steps. + +The cab-door was flung open and out sprang an utter stranger to Harry +Ringrose. This was a middle-aged man of the medium height, wearing a +somewhat shabby tall hat and a frock-coat which shone unduly in the +strong sunlight. He had a fresh complexion, a reddish moustache +streaked with grey, a sharp-pointed nose, and a very deep chin which +needed shaving; but what struck Harry first and last were the keen, +decisive eyes, twinkling behind glasses with gold rims, which went +straight to the broken window and surveyed it critically before their +owner had set foot on the steps. It seemed that the cabman saw it too +and made some remark; for the fare turned upon him, paid him and +slammed his door, and ordered him off in a very peremptory voice which +Harry heard distinctly. The cab turned in the sweep and disappeared +among the trees. Then the stranger came slowly up the steps, with his +eyes once more fixed upon the broken window. In another moment they had +run like lightning over the face of the house, and, before Harry had +time to move, had met his own. + +The stranger raised his eyebrows, shook his head, and pointed to the +front door. Harry went to it, shot the bolts back, turned the key, and +flung the door wide open. He was trembling now with simple terror. His +tongue would not ask what had happened. It was like standing to be +shot, and having to give the signal to the firing party. + +The other seemed to feel it almost equally: his fresh face was pale, +and his quick eyes still with sorrow and compunction. It was evident he +knew the worst. If only he would tell it unasked! + +"My name is Lowndes," he began at last. "Gordon Lowndes--you must have +heard of me?" + +"I--I don't remember it," stammered Harry at the second attempt. + +"I stayed here several times while you were in Africa. I was here in +February." + +"Yes, now I remember your name: it was in the last letter I had." + +He could say this calmly; and yet his lips could not frame the question +whose answer would indeed be life or death. + +"Two years ago I did not know your people," resumed the other. "But for +two years I have been their most intimate friend." + +"Tell me," at length whispered Harry: "is--either of them--dead?" And +he awaited the worst with a sudden fortitude. + +Mr. Lowndes shook his head. + +"Not that I know of," said he. + +"Thank God!" the boy burst out, with the first break in his voice. +"Nothing else matters--nothing--nothing! I made sure it was that! Can +you swear that my father is all right?" + +The other winced. "To the best of my knowledge," said he almost +sharply. + +"And my mother?" + +"Yes, yes, I was with her three days ago." + +"Where?" + +"In London." + +"London! And I passed through London last night! You saw her, you say, +three days ago, and she was all right then?" + +"I never knew her look better." + +"Then tell me the worst and let us have it over! I can see that we have +lost our money--but that doesn't matter. Nothing matters if they are +all right; won't you come in, sir, and tell me all?" + +Harry did not know it, for in his deep emotion he had lost sight of +self; but there was something infinitely touching in the way the young +man stood aside and ushered his senior into the hall as though it were +still his home. Mr. Lowndes shook his head at the unconscious air, and +he entered slowly, with it bent. Harry shut the doors behind them, and +they turned into the first room. It was the room with the empty +bookshelves; and it still smelt of Harry's father's cheroots. + +"You may wonder at my turning up like this," said Lowndes; "but for +those fools at the shipping-office I should have met you at the docks. +I undertook to do so, and to break the news to you there." + +"But how could you know my ship?" + +The other smiled. + +"Cable," said he; "that was a very simple matter. But if your shipping +fellows hadn't sworn you'd be reported from the Lizard, in lots of time +for me to get up from Scotland to meet you, I should never have run +down there as I was induced to do on business the night before last. I +should have let the business slide. As it was the telegram reached me +last night in Glasgow, when I knew it was too late to keep you out of +this. Still, I timed myself to get here five minutes before you, and +should have done it if my train hadn't been forty minutes late. It--it +must have been the devil's own quarter-of-an-hour for you, Ringrose! +Have a drop of this before we go on; it'll do you good." + +He took a flask from his pocket and half filled the cup with raw +whisky, which Harry seized gratefully and drained at a gulp. In truth, +the shock of the morning, after the night's excitement, had left him +miserably faint. The spirit revived him a little. + +"You are very kind to me," he said, returning the cup. "You must be a +great friend of my parents for them to give you this job, and a good +friend to take it on! Now, if you please, tell me every mortal thing; +you will tell me nothing I cannot bear; but I am sure you are too kind +to keep anything back." + +Lowndes was gazing with a shrewd approval upon the plucky young fellow, +in whom, indeed, disappointment and disaster had so far awakened only +what was best. At the last words, however, the quick eyes fell behind +the gold-rimmed glasses in a way that made Harry wonder whether he had +indeed been told the worst. And yet there was already more than enough +to account for the other's embarrassment; and he determined not to add +to it by unnecessary or by impatient questions. + +"You are doubtless aware," began Lowndes, "that the iron trade in this +country has long been going from bad to worse? You have heard of the +bad times, I imagine, before to-day?" + +Harry nodded: he had heard of the bad times as long as he could +remember. But because the happy conditions of his own boyhood had not +been affected by the cry, he had believed that it was nothing else. He +was punished now. + +"The times," proceeded Lowndes, "have probably been bad since your +childhood. How old are you now?" + +"Twenty-one to-day." + +"To-day!" + +"Go on," said Harry, hoarsely. "Don't be sorry for me. I deserve very +little sympathy." His hands were in the pockets he had wilfully emptied +of every coin. + +"When you were five years old," continued Lowndes, "the pig-iron your +father made fetched over five pounds a ton; before you were seven it +was down to two-pounds-ten; it never picked up again; and for the last +ten years it hasn't averaged two pounds. Shall I tell you what that +means? For these ten years your father has been losing a few shillings +on every ton of pig-iron produced--a few hundred pounds every week of +his life!" + +"And I was enjoying myself at school, and now in Africa! Oh," groaned +Harry Ringrose, "go on, go on; but don't waste any pity on me." + +"You may be a very rich man, but that sort of thing can't last for +ever. The end is bound to come, and in your father's case it came, +practically speaking, several years ago." + +"Several years? I don't follow you. He never failed?" + +"It would have been better for you all if he had. You have looked upon +this place as your own, I suppose, from as far back as you can remember +down to this morning?" + +"As my father's own--decidedly." + +"It has belonged to his bankers for at least five years." + +"How do you know?" cried Harry hotly. + +"He told me himself, when I first came down here, now eighteen months +ago. We met in London, and he asked me down. I was in hopes we might do +business together; but it was no go." + +"What sort of business?" + +"I wanted him to turn the whole thing into a Limited Liability +Company," said Gordon Lowndes, reeling off the last three words as +though he knew them better than his own name; "I mean those useless +blast-furnaces! What good were they doing? None at all. Three bob a ton +on the wrong side! That's all the good they'd done for years, and +that's all they were likely to do till times changed. Times never will +change--to what they were when you were breeched--but that's a detail. +Your father's name down here was as sweet as honey. All he'd got to do +was to start an extra carriage or two, put up for Parliament on the +winning side, and turn his works into a Limited Liability Company. I'd +have promoted it. I'd have seen it through in town. The best men would +have gone on the board, and we'd have done the bank so well in shares +that they wouldn't have got out of it if they could. We'd have made a +spanking good thing of it if only the governor would have listened to +reason. He wouldn't; said he'd rather go down with the ship than let in +a lot of shareholders. 'Damn the shareholders!' says I. 'Why count the +odds in the day of battle?' It's the biggest mistake you can make, +Ringrose, and your governor kept on making it! It was in this very +room, and he was quite angry with me. He wouldn't let me say another +word. And what happens? A year or so later--this last February--he +wires me to come down at once. Of course I came, but it was as I +thought: the bank's sick of it, and threatens to foreclose. I went to +see them; not a bit of good. Roughly speaking, it was a case of either +paying off half the mortgage and reconstructing the whole bag of +tricks, or going through the courts to beggary. Twenty thousand was the +round figure; and I said I'd raise it if it was to be raised." + +This speech had barely occupied a minute, so rapidly was it spoken; and +there was much of it which Harry, in his utter ignorance of all such +matters, would have found difficult to follow at a much slower rate of +utterance. As it was, however, it filled him with distrust of his +father's friend, who, on his own showing, had made some proposal +dishonourable in the eyes of a high-principled man. Moreover, it came +instinctively to Harry that he had caught a first glimpse of the real +Gordon Lowndes, with his cunning eyes flashing behind his _pince-nez_, +the gestures of a stump orator, and this stream of unintelligible +jargon gushing from his lips. The last sentences, however, were plain +enough even to Harry's understanding. + +"You said you'd raise it," he repeated dryly; "yet you can't have done +so." + +"I raised ten thousand." + +"Only half; well?" + +"It was no use." + +"My father would refuse to touch it?" + +"N-no." + +"Then what did he do?" + +Lowndes drew back a pace, saying nothing, but watching the boy with +twitching eyelids. + +"Come, sir, speak out!" cried Harry, "He will tell me himself, you +know, when I get back to London." + +"He is not there." + +"You said he was!" + +"I said your mother was." + +"Where is my father, then?" + +"On the Continent--we think." + +"You think? And the--ten thousand pounds?" + +"He has it with him," said Lowndes, in a low voice. "I'm sorry to say +he--bolted with the lot!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE SIN OF THE FATHER. + + +"It's a lie!" + +The word flew through Harry's teeth as in another century his sword +might have flown from its sheath; and so blind was he with rage and +horror that he scarcely appreciated its effect on Gordon Lowndes. Never +was gross insult more mildly taken. The elder man did certainly change +colour for an instant; in another he had turned away with a shrug, and +in yet another he was round again with a sad half-smile. Harry glared +at him in a growing terror. He saw that he was forgiven; a blow had +disconcerted him less. + +"I expected you to jump down my throat," observed Lowndes, with a +certain twitching of the sharp nose which came and went with the +intermittent twinkle in his eyes. + +"It is lucky you are not a younger man, or you would have got even more +than you expected!" + +"For telling you the truth? Well, well, I admire your spirit, +Ringrose." + +"It is not the truth," said Harry doggedly, his chest heaving, and a +cold sweat starting from his skin. + +"I wish to God it were not!" + +"You mean to tell me my father absconded?" + +"That is the word I should have used." + +"With ten thousand pounds that did not belong to him?" + +"Not exactly that; the money was lent to him, but for another purpose. +He has misapplied rather than misappropriated it." + +Harry felt his head swimming. Disaster he might bear--but disaster +rooted in disgrace! He gazed in mute misery upon the stripped but still +familiar room; he breathed hard, and the stale odour of his father's +cheroots became a sudden agony in his dilated nostrils. Something told +him that what he had heard was true. That did not make it easier to +believe--on the bare word of a perfect stranger. + +"Proofs!" he gasped. "What proofs have you? Have you any?" + +Lowndes produced a pocket-book and extracted a number of newspaper +cuttings. + +"Yes," sighed he, "I have almost everything that has appeared about it +in the papers. It will be cruel reading for you, Ringrose; but you may +take it better so than from anybody's lips. The accounts in the local +press--the creditors' meetings and so forth--are, however, rather long. +Hadn't you better wait until we're on our way back to town?" + +"Wait? No, show me something now! I apologise for what I said; I made +use of an unpardonable word; but--I don't believe it yet!" + +"Here, then," said Lowndes, "if you insist. Here's a single short +paragraph from the _P.M.G._ It would appear about the last day in +March." + +"The day I sailed!" groaned Harry. He took the cutting and read as +follows:-- + + THE MISSING IRONMASTER. + + The Press Association states that nothing further has been + ascertained with regard to the whereabouts of Mr. Henry J. + Ringrose, the Westmoreland ironmaster, who was last seen on Easter + Eve. He has been traced, however, as already reported in these + columns, to the Café Suisse in Dieppe, though no further. The + people at the café persist in stating that their visitor only + remained a few hours, so that he would appear to have walked thence + into thin air. The police, as usual, are extremely reticent; but + inquiry at Scotland Yard has elicited the fact that considerable + doubt exists as to whether the missing man's chief creditors will, + or can, owing to the character of their claim, take further action + in the matter. + +"Who are the chief creditors?" asked Harry, returning the cutting with +an ashy face. + +"Four business friends of your father's, from whom I raised the money +in his name." + +"Here in the neighbourhood?" + +"No, in London; they advanced two thousand five hundred each." + +"It was no good, you say?" + +"No; the bank was not satisfied." + +"So my father ran away with their money and left the works to go to +blazes--and my mother to starve?" + +Lowndes shrugged his shoulders. + +"I apologise again for insulting you, Mr. Lowndes," said the boy, +holding out his hand. "You have been a good friend to my poor father, I +can see, and I know that you firmly believe what you say. But I never +will! No; not if all his friends, and every newspaper in the kingdom, +told me it was true!" + +"Then what are you to believe?" + +"That there has been foul play!" + +The elder man turned away with another shrug, and it was some moments +before Harry saw his face; when he did it was grave and sympathetic as +before, and exhibited no trace of the irritation which it had cost an +apparent effort to suppress. + +"I am not surprised at that entering your head, Ringrose." + +"Has it never entered yours?" + +"Everything has; but one weeds out the impossibilities." + +"Why is it impossible?" Harry burst out. "It is a good deal likelier +than that my father would have done what it's said he did! There's an +impossibility, if you like; and you would say so, too, if you had known +him better." + +Mr. Lowndes shook his head, and smiled sadly as he watched the boy's +flaming face through his spectacles. + +"You may have known your father, Ringrose, but you don't know human +nature, or you wouldn't talk like that. Nothing is impossible--no +crime--not even to the best of us--when the strain becomes more than we +can bear. It is a pure question of strain and strength: which is the +greater of the two. Every man has his breaking-point; your father was +at his for years; it's a mystery to me how he held out so long. You +must look at it sensibly, Ringrose. No thinking man will blame him, for +the simple reason that every man who thinks knows very well that he +might have done the same thing himself under the same pressure. +Besides--give him a chance! With ten thousand pounds in his pocket----" + +"You're sure he had it in his pocket?" interrupted Harry. These +arguments only galled his wounds. + +"Or else in a bag; it comes to the same thing." + +"In what shape would he have the money?" + +"Big notes and some gold." + +"Yet foul play's an impossibility!" + +"The numbers of the notes are known. Not one of them has turned up." + +"I care nothing about that," cried the boy wildly, "though it shows he +hasn't spent them himself. Listen to me, Mr. Lowndes. I believe my +father is dead, I believe he has been murdered: and I would rather that +than what you say! But you claim to have been his friend? You raised +this money for him? Very well; take my hand--here in his room--where I +can see him now, all the time I'm talking to you--and swear that you +will help me to clear this mystery up! We'll inspan the best detective +in town, and take him with us to Dieppe, and never leave him till we +get at the truth. I mean to live for nothing else. Swear that you will +help me ... swear it here ... in his own room." + +The wild voice had come down to a broken whisper. Next moment it had +risen again: the man hesitated. + +"Swear it! Swear it! Or you may have been my father's friend, but you +are none from this hour to my mother and me." + +Lowndes spread his hands in an indulgent gesture. + +"Very well! I swear to help you to clear up this--mystery--as long as +you think it is one." + +"That is all I want. Now tell me when the next train starts for town. +It used to be nine-twenty?" + +"It is still." + +"You are returning to London yourself?" + +"Yes, by that train." + +"Then let us meet at the station. It is now eight. I--I want to be +alone here for an hour or two. No, it will do me good, it will calm me. +I feel I have been very rude to you, sir, but I have hardly known what +I said. I am beside myself--beside myself!" And Harry Ringrose rushed +from the room, and up the bare and sounding stairs of his empty home: +it was from his own old bedroom that he heard Lowndes leave the house, +and saw a dejected figure climbing the sloping drive with heavy steps. + +That hour of leave-taking is not to be described. How the boy harrowed +himself wilfully by going into every room and thinking of something +that had happened there, and seeing it all again through scalding +tears, is a thing to be understood by some, but pitied rather than +commended. There was, however, another and a sounder side to Harry +Ringrose, and the prayers he prayed, and the vows he vowed, these were +brave, and he meant them all that bitter birthday morning, that was to +have been the happiest of all his life. Then his heart was broken but +still heroic: there came many a brighter day he would gladly have +exchanged for that black one, for the sake of its high resolves, its +pure impulses, its noble and undaunted aspirations. + +He had one more rencontre before he got away: in the garden he espied +their old gardener. It was impossible not to go up and speak to him; +and Harry left the old man crying like a child; but he himself had no +tears. + +"I am glad they left you your job: you will care for things," he had +said, as he was going. + +"Ay, ay, for the master's sake: he was the best master a man ever had, +say what they will." + +"But you don't believe what they say?" + +The gardener looked blank. + +"Do you dare to tell me," cried Harry, "that you believe what they +believe?" + +It was at this the man broke down; but Harry strode away with bitter +resentment in his heart, and so back to the town, with a defiant face +for every passer; but this time there were none he knew. At the spot +where his old companion had cut him, that affront was recalled for the +first time; its meaning was plain enough now; and plain the strange +conduct of the railway-porter, who kept out of his way when Harry +reappeared at the station. + +Lowndes was there waiting for him, and had not only taken the tickets, +but also telegraphed to Mrs. Ringrose; and this moved poor Harry to a +shame-faced confession of his improvidence on the way down, and its +awful results, in the midst of which the other burst out laughing in +his face. Harry was a boy after his own heart; it was a treat to meet +anybody who declined to count the odds in the day of battle; but, in +any case, Mr. Lowndes claimed the rest of the day as "his funeral." As +Harry listened, and thanked his new friend, he had a keen and hostile +eye for any old ones; but the train left without his seeing another. + +"The works look the same as ever," groaned Harry, as he gazed out on +them once more. "I thought they seemed to be doing so splendidly, with +all four furnaces in blast." + +"They are doing better than for some years past: iron's looking up: the +creditors may get their money back yet." + +"Thank God for that!" + +Lowndes opened his eyes, and the sharp nose twitched amusement. + +"If I were in your place that would be the worst part of all. I have no +sympathy with creditors as a class." + +"I want to be even with them," said Harry through his teeth. "I will +be, too, before I die: with every man of them. Hallo! why, this is a +first-class carriage! How does that happen? I never looked where we got +in; I followed you." + +"And I chose that we should travel first." + +"But I can't, I won't!" cried Harry, excitedly. "It was monstrous of me +last night, but it would be criminal this morning. You sit where you +are. I can change into a third at the next station." + +"I have a first-class ticket for you," rejoined Lowndes. "You may as +well make use of it." + +"But when shall I pay you back?" + +"Never, my boy! I tell you this is my funeral till I deliver you over +to your mother, so don't _you_ begin counting the odds; you've nothing +to do with them. Besides, you came up like a rocket, and I won't have +you go down altogether like the stick!" + +Nor did he; and Harry soon saw that his companion was not to be judged +by his shabby top-hat and his shiny frock-coat; he was evidently a very +rich man. Where the boy had flung half-crowns overnight--where +half-a-crown was more than ample--his elder now scattered +half-sovereigns, and they had an engaged carriage the whole way. At +Preston an extravagant luncheon-basket was taken in, with a bottle of +champagne and some of the best obtainable cigars, for the quality of +both of which Gordon Lowndes made profuse apologies. But Harry felt a +new being after his meal, for grief and excitement had been his bread +all day, and the wine warmed his heart to the strange man with whom he +had been thrown in such dramatic contact. Better company, in happier +circumstances, it would have been difficult to imagine; and it was +clear that, with quip and anecdote, he was doing his utmost to amuse +Harry and to take him out of his trouble. But to no purpose: the boy +was perforce a bad listener, and at last confessed it in as many words. + +"My mind is so full of my father," added Harry, "that I have hardly +given my dear mother a thought; but my life is hers from to-day. You +said she was in Kensington; in lodgings, I suppose?" + +"No, in a flat. It's very small, but there's a room for you, and it's +been ready for weeks." + +"What is she living on?" + +"Less than half her private income by marriage settlement; that was all +there was left, and five-eighths of it she would insist on making over +to the men who advanced the ten thousand. She is paying them +two-and-a-half per cent. on their money and attempting to live on a +hundred and fifty a year!" + +"I'll double it before long!" + +"Then she'll pay them five." + +"They shall have every farthing one day; and the other creditors, they +shall have their twenty shillings in the pound if I live long enough. +Now let me have the rest of those cuttings. I want to know just how we +stand--and what they say." + +Out came the pocket-book once more. They were an hour's run nearer town +when Harry spoke again. + +"May I keep them?" he said. + +"Surely." + +"Thank you. I take it the bank's all right--and thank God the other +liabilities up there are not large. As to the flight with that ten +thousand--I don't believe it yet. There has been foul play. You mark my +words." + +Lowndes looked out at the flying fields. + +"Which of you saw him last?" continued Harry. + +"Your mother, when he left for town." + +"When was that?" + +"The morning after Good Friday." + +"When did he cross?" + +"That night." + +"Did he write to anybody?" + +"Not that I know of." + +"Not to my mother?" + +Lowndes leant forward across the compartment: there was a shrewd look +in the spectacled eyes. + +"Not that I know of," he said again, but with a different intonation. +"I have often wondered!" + +"Did you ask her?" + +"Yes; she said not." + +"Then what do you mean?" cried Harry indignantly. "Do you think my +mother would tell you a lie?" + +"Your mother is the most loyal little woman in England," was the reply. +"I certainly think that she would keep her end up in the day of +battle." + +Harry ground his teeth. He could have struck the florid able face whose +every look showed a calm assumption of his father's infamy. + +"You take it all for granted!" he fumed; "you, who say you were his +friend. How am I to believe in such friendship? True friends are not so +ready to believe the worst. Oh! it makes my blood boil to hear you +talk; it makes me hate myself for accepting kindness at your hands. You +have been very kind, I know," added Harry in a breaking voice; +"but--but for God's sake don't let us speak about it any more!" And he +flung up a newspaper to hide his quivering lips; for now he was hoping +against hope and believing against belief. + +Was it not in black and white in all the papers? How could it be +otherwise than true? Rightly or wrongly, the world had found his father +guilty; and was he to insult all and sundry who failed to repudiate the +verdict of the world? + +Harry was one who could not endure to be in the wrong with anybody: his +weakness in every quarrel was an incongruous hankering for the good +opinion of the enemy, and this was intensified in the case of one who +was obviously anxious to be his friend. To appear ungracious or +ungrateful was equally repugnant to Harry Ringrose, and no sooner was +he master of his emotion than he lowered the paper in order to add a +few words which should remove any such impression. + +Gordon Lowndes sat dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief that he +made haste to put away, as though it was his eyes he had been wiping, +which indeed was Harry's first belief. But the gold-rimmed glasses were +not displaced, and, so far from a tear, there was an expression behind +them for which Harry could not then find the name; nevertheless, it +made him hold his tongue after all. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE NEW HOME. + + +Harry had hoped that his companion would go his own way when they got +to London; but it was "his funeral," as Mr. Lowndes kept saying, and he +seemed determined to conduct it to the end. Euston was crowded, where +Lowndes behaved like a man in his element, dealing abuse and largesse +with equal energy and freedom, and getting Harry and all his boxes off +in the first cab which left the station. But he himself was at Harry's +side; and there he sat until the cab stopped, half-an-hour later, +beneath a many-windowed red-brick pile thrown up in the angle of two +back streets. + +A porter in uniform ran up to help with the luggage, and, as Harry +jumped out, a voice with a glad sob in it hailed him from a first-floor +window. He waved his hat, and, with a pang, saw a white head vanishing: +it had not been white when he went away. Next moment he was flying up +the stone stairs three at a time; and on the first landing, at an open +door, there was the sweet face, all aged and lined and lighted with +sorrow and shame and love; there were the softest arms in all the +world, spread wide to catch and clasp him to the warmest heart. + +It was a long time afterwards, in a room which made the old furniture +look very big, the old pictures very sad, that Mr. Lowndes was +remembered for the first time. They looked into the narrow passage: the +boxes blocked it, but he was not there; they called, but there was no +answer. + +"Have we no servant, mother?" + +"We have no room for one. The porter's wife comes up and helps me." + +"I can help you! Many a meal have I cooked in Africa." + +"My boy, what a home-coming!" + +It was the first word about that, and with it came the first catch in +Harry's mother's voice. + +"No, mother, thank God I am back to take care of you; and oh! I am so +thankful we are to be alone to-night." + +"But I am sorry he did not come in." + +"He was quite right not to." + +"But he must have paid for the cab--I will look out of the window--yes, +it has gone--and I had the money ready in case you forgot!" + +Harry could have beaten himself, but he could not tell his mother just +then that he had arrived without a penny, and that Lowndes had not only +paid the cabman, but must be pounds out of pocket by him on the day. + +"Don't you like him, dear?" said his mother, divining that he did not. + +"I do and I don't," said Harry bluntly. + +"He has been so kind to me!" + +"Yes; he is kind enough." + +"Did you not think it good of him to rush from Scotland to meet you and +then bring you all the way to your--new--home?" + +"It was almost too good. I would have been happier alone," said Harry, +forgetting all else in his bitter remembrance of some speeches Lowndes +had made. + +"That is not very grateful, my boy. You little know what he has been to +me!" + +"Has he done so much?" + +"Everything--all through! You see what I have saved from the wreck? It +was he who went to bid for me at the sale!" + +"You bought them in, mother?" + +"Yes; I could accept nothing from the creditors. That is the one point +on which I quarrel with Mr. Lowndes; but we have agreed to differ. Why +do you dislike him, Harry?" + +"Mother, don't you know?" + +"I cannot imagine." + +"He thinks the worst--about my father." + +It was the first mention of the father's name. Mrs. Ringrose was silent +for many moments. + +"I know he does," she said at length. + +"Then how can you bear the sight of him?" her boy burst out. + +"It is no worse than all the world thinks." + +And Mrs. Ringrose sighed; but now her voice was abnormally calm, as +with a grief too great for tears. + +The long May evening had not yet closed in, and in the ensuing silence +the cries of children in the street below, and the Last Waltz of Weber +from the piano of the flat above, came with equal impertinence through +the open windows. Mrs. Ringrose was in the rocking-chair in which she +had nursed her only child. Her back was to the light, but she was +rocking slowly. Her son stood over her with horror deepening in his +face, but hers he could not see, only the white head which two years +ago had been hardly grey. He dropped upon his knees and seized her +hands; they were cold; and he missed her rings. + +"Mother--mother! You don't think it too?" + +No answer. + +"You do! Oh, mother, how are we to go on living after this? What makes +you think it? Quick! has he written to you?" + +Mrs. Ringrose started violently. "Who put that into your head?" she +cried out sharply. + +"Nobody. I only wondered if there had been a letter, and I asked +Lowndes, but he said you said there had not." + +"Was that not enough for you?" + +"Oh, mother, tell me the truth!" + +The poor lady groaned aloud. + +"God knows I meant to keep it to myself!" she whispered. "And yet--oh, +how could I destroy his letter? And I thought you ought to see it--some +day--not yet." + +"Mother, I must see it now." + +"You will never breathe it to a soul?" + +"Never without your permission." + +"No one must ever dream I heard one word after he left me!" + +"No one ever shall." + +"I will get the letter." + +His hand was trembling when he took it from her. + +"It was written on the steamer, you see." + +"It may be a forgery," said Harry, in a loud voice that trembled too. +Yet there was a ring of real hope in it. He was thinking of Lowndes in +the train. He had caught him mopping a wet brow. He had surprised a +guilty look--yes, guilty was the word--he had found it at last--in +those shifty eyes behind the _pince-nez_. If villainy should be at the +bottom of it all, and Lowndes at the bottom of the villainy! + +If the letter should prove a forgery after all! + +He had it in his hand. He carried it to the failing light. He hardly +dared to look at it, but when he did a cry escaped him. + +It was a cry of disappointment and abandoned hope. + +Minutes passed without another sound; then the letter was slowly folded +up and restored to its envelope, and dropped into Harry's pocket, +before his arms went round his mother's neck. + +"Mother, let me burn it, so that no eyes but ours shall ever see!" + +"Burn it? Burn the last letter I may ever have from him? Give it to +me!" And she pressed it to her bosom. + +Harry hung his head in a long and wretched silence. + +"We must forget him, mother," he said at last. + +"Harry, he was a good father to you, he loved you dearly. He was mad +when he did what he has done. You must never say that again." + +"I meant we must forget what he has done----" + +"Ah God! if I could!" + +"And only think of him as he used to be." + +"Yes; yes; we will try." + +"It would be easier--don't you think--if we never spoke of this?" + +"We never will, unless we must." + +"Let us think that we just failed like other people. But, mother, I +will work all my life to pay off everybody! I will work for you till I +drop. Goodness knows what at; but I learnt to work for fun in Africa, I +am ready to work in earnest, and, thank God, I have all my life before +me." + +"You are twenty-one to-day!" + +"Yes, I start fair in every way." + +"That this should be your twenty-first birthday! My boy--my boy!" + + * * * * * + +The long May twilight deepens into night; the many windows of the +red-brick block are lit up one by one; and the many lives go on. Below, +at the curb, a doctor's brougham and a hansom are waiting end to end; +and from that top flat a young couple come scuttling down the stone +stairs, he in a crush-hat, she with a flower in her hair, and theirs is +the hansom. The flat below has similar tenants, but here the doctor is, +and the young man paces his desolate parlour with a ghastly face. + +And in the flat below that it is Weber's Last Waltz once more, and +nothing else, by the hour together. And in the flat below that--the +flat that would have gone into one room of their old home--Harry +Ringrose and his mother are still steeling themselves and one another +to face the future and to live down the past. + +The light has been lowered in their front room and transferred for a +space to the tiny dining-room at the back, which looks down into the +building's well, but now it is the front windows which stand out once +more. Twelve o'clock comes, and there is a tinkle of homing hansoms +(the brougham has gone away masterless), and the public-house at the +corner empties noisily, but the light in those front windows remains +the brightest in the mansions. And Weber is done with at last; but the +two voices below go on and on and on into the night; nor do they cease +when their light shifts yet again into the front bedroom. + +It is two in the morning, and the young couple have come home crumpled +from their dance, and their feet drag dreadfully on the stairs, and the +doctor has taken their hansom, and the young man below them is drunk +with joy, when Harry Ringrose kisses his mother for the twentieth last +time and really goes. But he is too excited to sleep. In half-an-hour +he creeps back into the passage. Her light is still burning. He goes +in. + +"You spoke of Innes, mother?" + +"Yes; I feel sure he would be the first to help you." + +"I cannot go to him. I can go to nobody. We must start afresh with +fresh friends, and I'll begin answering advertisements to-morrow. +Yet--Innes has helped me already!" + +Mrs. Ringrose has been reading herself asleep, like a practical woman, +out of one of the new magazines he has brought home. The sweet face on +the pillow is wonderfully calm (for it is not from his mother that +Harry inherits his excitability), but at this it looks puzzled. + +"When has he helped you?" + +"To-night, mother! There was a motto he had when I was at his school. +He used to say it in his sermons, and he taught me to say it in my +heart." + +"Well, my boy?" + +"It came back to me just now. It puts all that we have been saying in a +nutshell. May I tell you, mother?" + +"I am waiting to hear." + +"'Money lost--little lost.'" + +"It's easy to say that." + +"'Honour lost--much lost.'" + +"I call it everything." + +"No, mother, wait! 'PLUCK lost--ALL lost!' It's only pluck that's +everything. We must never lose that, mother, we must never lose that!" + +"God grant we never may." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +A WET BLANKET. + + +The morning sun filled the front rooms of the flat, and the heavy +hearts within were the lighter for its cheery rays. Sorrow may outlive +the night, and small joy come in the morning; but yet, if you are young +and sanguine, and the month be May, and the heavens unspotted, and the +air nectar, then you may suddenly find yourself thrilling with an +unwarrantable delight in mere life, and that in the very midst of +life's miseries. It was so with young Harry Ringrose, on the morning +following his tragic home-coming; it was even so with Harry's mother, +who was as young at heart as her boy, and fully as sanguine in +temperament. They had come down from the high ground of the night. The +everyday mood had supervened. Harry was unpacking his ostrich eggs in +the narrow passage, and thoroughly enjoying a pipe; in her own room his +mother sat cleaning her silver, incredible contentment in her face, +because her boy was in and out all the morning, and the little flat was +going to bring them so close together. + +"That's the lot," said Harry when the bed was covered with the eggs. +"Now, mother, which do you think the best pair?" + +"They all look the same to me." + +"They are not. Look at this pair in my hands. Can't you see that +they're much bigger and finer than the rest?" + +"I daresay they are." + +"They're for you, mother, these two." + +And he set them on the table among the spoons and forks and +plate-powder. She kissed him, but looked puzzled. + +"What shall you do with the rest?" + +"Sell them! Five shillings a pair; five tens are fifty; that's +two-pound-ten straight away." + +"I won't have you sell them!" + +"They are mine, mother, and I must." + +"You'll be sorry for it when you have a good situation." + +"Ah, when!" said Harry, and he was out again with a laugh. + +A noise of breaking wood came from the passage. He was opening another +case. His mother frowned at her miniature in the spoon she had in hand, +and when he returned, brandishing a brace of Kaffir battle-axes, she +would hardly look at them. + +"I feel sure Wintour Phipps would take you into his office," said Mrs. +Ringrose. + +"I never heard of him. Who is he?" + +"A solicitor; your father paid for his stamps when he was articled." + +"An old friend, then?" + +"Not of mine, for I never saw him; but he was your father's godson." + +"It comes to the same thing, and I can't go to him, mother. Face old +friends I cannot! You and I are starting afresh, dear; I'm prepared to +answer every advertisement in the papers, and to take any work I can +get, but not to go begging favours of people who would probably cut us +in the street. I don't expect to get a billet instantly; that's why I +mean to sell all this truck--for the benefit of the firm." + +"You had much better write an article about your experiences, and get +it into some magazine, as you said you would last night." + +Indeed, they had discussed every possible career in the night, among +others that of literature, which the mother deemed her son competent to +follow on the strength of certain contributions to his school magazine, +and of the winning parody in some prize competition of ancient history. +He now said he would try his hand on the article some day, but it would +take time, and would anybody accept it when written? That was the +question, said Harry, and his mother had a characteristic answer. + +"If you wrote to the Editor of _Uncle Tom's Magazine_," said she, "and +told him you had taken it in as long as you could remember--I bought in +the bound volumes for you, my boy--I feel sure that he would accept it +and pay for it too." + +"Well, we'll see," said Harry, with a laugh. "Meanwhile we must find +somebody to accept all these curios, and to pay for them. I see no room +for them here." + +"There is certainly very little." + +"I wonder who would be the best people to go to?" + +Mrs. Ringrose considered. + +"I should try Whitbreds," said she at last, "since you are so set upon +it. They sell everything; and I have had all my groceries from them for +so many years that they can hardly refuse to take something from us." + +To the simple-hearted lady, whom fifty years had failed to +sophisticate, there seemed nothing unreasonable in the expectations +which she formed of others, for they were one and all founded upon the +almost fanatical loyalty which was a guiding impulse of her own warm +heart. In her years of plenty it was ever the humblest friend who won +her warmest welcome, and the lean years to come proved powerless to +check this generous spirit. Mrs. Ringrose would be illogically staunch +to tradesmen whom she had dealt with formerly, and would delight their +messengers with unnecessary gratuities because she had been accustomed +to give all her life; but so unconscious was she of undue liberality on +her part that she was apt to credit others with her own extravagance in +charity, and to feel it bitterly when not done by as perhaps she alone +would have done. It simply astounded her when three of her husband's +old friends, who had in no way suffered by him, successively refused +her secret supplication for a desk for her boy in their offices: she +would herself have slept on the floor to have given the child of any +one of them a bed in her little flat. + +But the treadmill round in search of work was not yet begun, though +Harry was soon enough to find himself upon the wheel. Even as he +unpacked his native weapons a weighty step was ascending the common +stair, and the electric bell rang long and aggressively just as Mrs. +Ringrose decided that it would be worth her son's while to let his +trophies go for fifty pounds. + +"A tall man in a topper!" whispered Harry, bursting quietly in. "I saw +him through the ground glass; who can it be?" + +"Your Uncle Spencer," said Mrs. Ringrose, looking straight at Harry +over the wash-leather and the mustard-pot. + +"Uncle Spencer!" Harry looked aghast. "What's bringing him, mother?" + +"I wrote to him directly I got the telegram." + +"You never said so!" + +"No; I knew you wouldn't be pleased." + +"Need I see him?" + +"It is you he has come to see. Go, my boy; take him into the +sitting-room, and I will join you when you have had your talk. +Meanwhile, remember that he is your mother's brother, and will exert +his influence to get you a situation; he has come so promptly, I +shouldn't be surprised if he has got you one already! And you are +letting him ring twice!" + +Indeed, the avuncular thumb had already pressed the button longer than +was either necessary or polite, and Harry went to the door with +feelings which he had difficulty in concealing as he threw it open. +Uncle Spencer stood without in a stiff attitude and in sombre clerical +attire; he beheld his nephew without the glimmer of a smile on his +funereal, bearded countenance, while his large hand was slow in joining +Harry's, and its pressure perfunctory. + +"So sorry to keep you waiting, but--but I forgot we hadn't a servant," +fibbed Harry to be polite. "Do come in, Uncle Spencer." + +"I thought nobody could be at home," was the one remark with which the +clergyman entered; and Harry sighed as he heard that depressing voice +again. + +The Reverend Spencer Walthew was indeed the survival of a type of +divine now rare in the land, but not by any means yet extinct. His +waistcoat fastened behind his back in some mysterious manner, and he +never smiled. He was the vicar of a semi-fashionable parish in North +London, where, however, he preached in a black gown to empty pews, +while a mixed choir behaved abominably behind his back. As a man he was +neither fool nor hypocrite, but the natural enemy of pleasure and +enthusiasm, and one who took a grim though unconscious satisfaction in +disheartening his neighbour. No two proverbial opposites afford a more +complete contrast than was presented by Mr. Walthew and Mrs. Ringrose; +and yet at the bottom of the brother's austerity there lay one or two +of the sister's qualities, for those who cared to dig deep enough in +such stony and forbidding ground. + +Harry had never taken to his uncle, who had frowned on Lord's and +tabooed the theatre on the one occasion of his spending a part of his +holidays in North London; and Mr. Walthew was certainly the last person +he wanted to see that day. It made Harry Ringrose throb and tingle to +look on the clergyman and to think of his father; they had never been +friendly together; and if one syllable was said against the man who was +down--no matter what he had done--the son of that man was prepared to +make such a scene as should secure an immunity from further insult. But +here Harry was indulging in fears as unworthy as his determination, and +he was afterwards ashamed of both. + +The clergyman began in an inevitable strain, dwelling solemnly on the +blessing of adversity in general, before proceeding to point out that +the particular misfortunes which had overwhelmed Harry and his mother +could not, by any stretch of the imagination, be regarded as +adventitious or accidental, since they were obviously the deliberate +punishment of a justly irate God, and as such to be borne with +patience, meekness, and humility. Harry chafed visibly, thinking of his +innocent mother in the next room; but, to do the preacher justice, his +sermon was a short one, and the practical issue was soon receiving the +attention it deserved. + +"I understand, Henry," said Mr. Walthew, "that you did obtain some +useful and remunerative employment in Africa, which you threw up in +order to come home and enjoy yourself. It is, of course, a great pity +that you were so ill-advised and improvident; but may I ask in what +capacity you were employed, and at what salary?" + +"I don't admit that I was either ill-advised or improvident," cried +Harry, with disrespectful warmth. "I didn't go out to work, but for my +health, and I only worked for the fun of it, and am jolly glad I did +come back to take care of my mother and to work for her. I was tutor in +a Portuguese planter's family, and he gave me seventy pounds a year." + +"And your board?" + +"And my board." + +"It was very good. It is a great deal better than anything you are +likely to get here. How long were you with the planter?" + +"Ten months." + +"Only ten months! You must allow an older head than yours to continue +thinking it is a pity you are not there still. Now, as to money +matters, your father would doubtless cease sending you remittances once +you were earning money for yourself?" + +"No, he sent me fifty pounds last Christmas." + +"Then, at any rate, you have brought enough home to prevent your being +a burden to your mother? Between fifty and a hundred pounds, I take +it?" + +Harry shook his head; it was hot with a shame he would have owned to +anybody in the world but Mr. Walthew. + +"Not fifty pounds?" + +"No." + +"How much, then?" + +"Not a penny!" + +The clergyman opened his eyes and lifted his hands in unaffected +horror. Harry could not help smiling in his face--could not have helped +it if he had stood convicted of a worse crime than extravagance. + +"You have spent every penny--and you smile!" the uncle cried. "You come +home to find your mother at starvation's door--and you smile! You have +spent her substance in--in----" + +"Riot!" suggested Harry wickedly. "Sheer riot and evil living! Oh, +Uncle Spencer, don't look like that; it's not exactly true; but, can't +you see, I had no idea what was going to happen here at home? I thought +I was coming back to live on the fat of the land, and when I'd made my +miserable pile I spent it--like a man, I thought--like a criminal, if +you will. Whichever it was, you must know which I feel now. And +whatever I have done I am pretty badly punished. But at least I mean to +take my punishment like a man, and to work like one, too, at any mortal +thing I can find to do." + +Mr. Walthew looked down his nose at the carpet on which he stood. He +had sense enough to see that the lad was in earnest now, and that it +was of no use to reproach him further with what was past. + +"It seems to me, Henry," he said at length, "that it's a case of +ability rather than of will. You say you are ready to do anything; the +question is--what can you do?" + +"Not many things," confessed Henry, in a humbler voice; "but I can +learn, Uncle Spencer--I will do my best to learn." + +"How old are you, Henry?" + +"Twenty-one." + +Harry was about to add "yesterday," but refrained from making his +statement of fact an appeal for sympathy; for the man in him was coming +steadily to the front. + +"Then you would leave school in the Sixth Form?" + +Harry had to shake his head. + +"Perhaps you were on the Modern Side? All the better if you were!" + +"No, I was not; I left in the form below the Sixth." + +"Then you know nothing about book-keeping, for example?" + +"I wish I did." + +"But you are a fair mathematician?" + +"It was my weakest point." + +The clergyman's expression was more melancholy than ever. "It is a +great pity--a very great pity, indeed," said he. "However, I see +writing materials on the table, and shall be glad if you will write me +down your full name, age, and address." + +Harry sat down and wrote what was required of him in the pretty, rather +scholarly hand which looked like and was the imitation of a prettier +and more scholarly one. Then he unsuspectingly blotted the sheet and +handed it to Mr. Walthew, who instantly began shaking his head in the +most depressing fashion. + +"It is as I feared," said he; "you do not even write a fair commercial +hand. It is well enough at a distance," and he held the sheet at arm's +length, "but it is not too easy to read, and I fear it would never do +in an office. There are several City men among my parishioners; I had +hoped to go to one or two of them with a different tale, but now I +fear--I greatly fear. However, one can but try. You do not fancy any of +the professions, I suppose? Not that you could afford one if you did." + +"Are the fees so high?" asked poor Harry, in a broken-spirited voice. + +"High enough to be prohibitive in your case, though it might not be so +if you had saved your money," the clergyman took care to add. "Of which +particular profession were you thinking?" + +"We--we have been talking it all over, and we did speak of--the Law." + +"Out of the question; it would cost hundreds, and you wouldn't make a +penny for years." + +"Then there is--schoolmastering." + +"It leads to nothing; besides--excuse me, Henry--but do you think you +are scholar enough yourself to--to presume to--teach others?" + +Harry fetched a groan. + +"I don't know. I managed well enough in Mozambique, but it was chiefly +teaching English. I only know that I would work day and night to +improve myself, if once I could get a chance." + +"Well," said Uncle Spencer, "it is just possible that I may hear in my +parish of some delicate or backward boy whom you would be competent to +ground, and if so I shall recommend you as far as I conscientiously +can. But I cannot say I am sanguine, Henry; it would be a different +thing if you had worked harder at school and got into the Sixth Form. I +suppose no other career has occurred to you as feasible? I confess I +find the range sadly restricted by the rather discreditable limitations +to which you own." + +Another career had occurred to Harry, and it was the one to which he +felt most drawn, but by inclination rather than by conscious aptitude, +so that he would have said nothing about it had not Mrs. Ringrose +joined them at this moment. Her brother greeted her with a tepid +salute, then dryly indicated the drift of the conversation, enlarging +upon the vista of hopeless disability which it had revealed in Henry, +and concluding with a repetition of his last question. + +"No," said Harry rather sullenly, "I can think of nothing else I'm fit +for unless I sweep a crossing; and then you would say I hadn't money +for the broom!" + +"But, surely, my boy," cried his mother, "you have forgotten what you +said to me last night?" + +Harry frowned and glared, for it is one thing to breathe your +ridiculous aspirations to the dearest of mothers in the dead of night, +and quite another thing to confide them to a singularly unsympathetic +uncle in broad daylight. But Mrs. Ringrose had turned to her brother, +and she would go on: "There is one thing he tells me he would rather do +than anything else in the world--and I am sure he could do it best." + +"What is that?" + +"Write!" + +Harry groaned. Mr. Walthew raised his eyebrows. Mrs. Ringrose sat +triumphant. + +"Write what, my dear Mary?" + +"Articles--poems--books." + +A grim resignation was given to Harry, and he laughed aloud as the +clergyman shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. + +"On his own showing," said Uncle Spencer, "I should doubt whether he +has--er--the education--for that." + +Mrs. Ringrose looked displeased, and even dangerous, for the moment; +but she controlled her feelings on perceiving that the boy himself was +now genuinely amused. + +"You are quite mistaken," she contented herself with saying. "Have I +never shown you the parody on Gray's Elegy he won a guinea for when he +was fourteen? Then I will now." + +And the fond lady was on her feet, only to find her boy with his back +to the door, and laughter, shame and anger fighting for his face. + +"You shall do no such thing, mother," Harry said firmly. "That +miserable parody!" + +"It was nothing of the kind. It began, 'The schoolbell tolls the +knell----'" + +"Hush, mother!" + +"'Of parting play'" she added wilfully. + +Mr. Walthew's eyebrows had reached their apogee. + +"That is quite enough, Mary," said he. "I disapprove of parodies, root +and branch; they are invariably vulgar; and when the poem parodied has +a distinctly religious tendency, as in this case, they are also +irreverent and profane. I am only glad to see that Henry is himself +ashamed of his lucubration. If he should write aught of a religious +character, and get it into print--a difficult matter, Henry, for one so +indifferently equipped--my satisfaction will not be lessened by my +surprise. Meanwhile let him return to those classics he should never +have neglected, for by the dead languages only can we hope to obtain a +mastery of our own; and I, for my part, will do my best in what, after +all, I regard as a much less hopeless direction. Good-bye, Mary. I +trust that I shall see you both on Sunday." + +But Mrs. Ringrose would not let him go without another word for her +boy's parody. + +"When I read it to Mr. Lowndes," said she, to Harry's horror, "he said +that he thought that a lad who could write so well at fourteen should +have a future before him. So you see everybody is not of your opinion, +Spencer; and Mr. Lowndes saw nothing vulgar." + +"Do I understand you to refer," said Mr. Walthew, bristling, "to the +person who has done me the honour of calling upon me in connection with +your affairs?" + +"He is the only Mr. Lowndes I know." + +"Then let me tell you, Mary, that his is not a name to conjure with in +my hearing. I should say, however, that he is the last person to be a +competent judge of vulgarity or--or other matters." + +"Then you dislike him too?" cried poor Mrs. Ringrose. + +"Do you?" said Mr. Walthew, turning to Harry; and uncle and nephew +regarded one another for the first time with mutually interested eyes. + +"Not I," said Harry stoutly. "He has been my mother's best friend." + +"I am sorry to hear it," the clergyman said; "what's more, I don't +believe it." + +"But he has been and he is," insisted the lady; "you little know what +he has done for me." + +"I wouldn't trust his motives," said her brother. "I am sorry to say +it, Mary; he is very glib and plausible, I know; but--he doesn't strike +me as an honest man!" + +Mrs. Ringrose was troubled and vexed, and took leave of the visitor +with a face as sombre as his own; but as for Harry, he recalled his own +feelings on the journey up, and he felt less out of sympathy with his +uncle than he had ever done in his life before. But Mr. Walthew was not +one to go without an irritating last word, and in the passage he had +his chance. He had remarked on the packing cases, and Harry had dived +into his mother's room and returned with an ostrich egg in each hand, +of which he begged his uncle's acceptance, saying that he would send +them by the parcels post. Mr. Walthew opened his eyes but shook his +head. + +"I could not dream of taking them from you," said he, "in--in your +present circumstances, Henry." + +"But I got them for nothing," said Harry, at once hurt and nettled. "I +got a dozen of them, and any amount of assegais and things, all for +love, when I was on the Zambesi. I should like you and my aunt to have +something." + +"Really I could not think of it; but, if I did, I certainly should not +permit you to incur the expense of parcel postage." + +"Pooh! uncle, it would only be sixpence or a shilling." + +"_Only_ sixpence _or_ a shilling! As if they were one and the same +thing! You talk like a millionaire, Henry, and it pains me to hear you, +after the conversation we have had." + +Harry wilfully observed that he never had been able to study the +shillings, and his uncle stood shocked on the threshold, as indeed he +was meant to be. + +"Then it's about time," said he, "that you did learn to study them--and +the sixpences--and the pence. You were smoking a pipe when I came. I +confess I was surprised, not merely because the habit is a vile one, +for it is unhappily the rule rather than the exception, but because it +is also an extravagant habit. You may say--I have heard young men +say--that it only costs you a few pence a week. Then, pray, study those +few pence--and save them. It is your duty. And as for what you say you +got for nothing, the ostrich eggs and so forth, take them and sell them +at the nearest shop! That also is your bounden duty, unless you wish to +be a burden to your mother in her poverty; and I am very sorry that you +should compel me to tell you so by talking of not 'studying' the +shillings." + +He towered in the doorway, a funereal monument of righteous horror; and +once more Harry held out his hand, and let his elder go with the last +word. The lad realised, in the first place, that he had just heard one +or two things which were perfectly true; and yet, in the second, he was +certain that he could not have replied without insolence--after his own +prior and virtuous resolve to sell the curios himself. Now he never +would sell them--so he felt for the moment; and he found himself +closing the door as though there were illness in the flat, in his +anxiety to keep from banging it as he desired. + +"I fear your Uncle Spencer has been vexing you too," his mother said; +"and yet I know that he will do his best to secure you a post." + +"Oh, that's all right, mother; he was kind enough; it's only his way," +said Harry, for he could see that his mother was sufficiently put out +as it was. + +"It's a way that makes me miserable," said poor Mrs. Ringrose, with a +tear in her voice. "Did you hear what he said to me? He said what I +never shall forgive." + +"Not about those rotten verses?" + +"No--about Mr. Lowndes. Your uncle said he didn't think him an honest +man." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE GAME OF BLUFF. + + +An inscrutable note reached Harry by the last post that night. It was +from Gordon Lowndes, and it ran:-- + + "Leadenhall Street, E.C. + + "May 20. + + "DEAR RINGROSE,--If you are still of the same mind about a matter + which we need not name, let me hear from you by return, and I'll + 'inspan' the best detective in the world. He is at present cooling + his heels at Scotland Yard, but may be on the job again any day, so + why not on ours? + + "Perhaps you will kindly drop me a line in any case, as I await + your instructions. + + "Yours faithfully, + + "GORDON LOWNDES." + +"What is it, my boy?" + +"A line from Lowndes." + +"Am I not to see it?" + +"I would rather you didn't, mother dear." + +"You haven't offended him, I hope?" + +"Oh, no, it's about something we spoke of in the train; it has come to +nothing, that's all." + +And Mrs. Ringrose gathered, as she was intended to gather, that some +iron or other had already been in the fire--and come out again. She +said no more. As for Harry, the final proof of his father's dishonour +had put out of his mind the oath which he had made Lowndes swear in +that almost happy hour when he could still refuse to believe; and the +sting of the reminder, and of the contrast between his feelings then +and now, was such that he was determined his mother should not bear it +with him. But yet, with all the pain it gave, the note from Lowndes +both puzzled and annoyed him; it was as though there were some subtle +thing between the lines, a something in a cipher to which he had not +the key; and he resented being forced to reply. After long +deliberation, however, this was written and rewritten, and taken +stealthily to the pillar in the small hours:-- + + "Kensington, May 21st. + + "DEAR MR. LOWNDES,--I am not of the same mind about the matter + which you very kindly do not name. I hope that neither you nor I + will ever have occasion to name it again, and that you will forgive + me for what I said yesterday before I could believe the truth. I + hardly know now what I did say, but I do honestly apologise, and + only beg of you never to speak, and, if possible, not to think, of + it again. + + "Believe me that I am grateful for your kind offer, and more than + grateful for all your goodness to my mother. + + "Yours sincerely, + + "HARRY RINGROSE." + +This had the effect of bringing Lowndes to the flat the following +afternoon, in the high spirits which were characteristic of the normal +man; it was only natural they should have deserted him the day before; +and yet when Harry came in and found him taking tea with his mother, +radiant, voluble, hilarious, the change was such that he seemed to the +boy another being. Humour shone through the gold-rimmed glasses and +trembled at the tip of the pointed nose. Harry had never seen a jollier +face, or listened to so boisterous a laugh; and they were what he +needed, for he had come in doubly embittered and depressed. + +He had been to the great house which had supplied his mother with her +groceries for so many years. He had seen a member of the firm, a +gentleman of presence and aplomb, in whose courtly company Harry and +his old clothes were painfully outclassed. The resultant and inevitable +repulse was none the less galling from being couched in terms of +perfectly polite condescension. Harry carried his specimen battle-axe +home in the brown paper he had taken it in, and pitched it upon the +sofa with a wry face before recounting his experience. + +Lowndes instantly said that he would get a price for the curios if +Harry would send them along to his office. Whereupon Harry thanked him, +but still looked glum, for a worse experience remained untold. + +The boy was in glaring need of new clothes; he could not possibly seek +work in town as he was; and Mrs. Ringrose had characteristically +insisted that he should go to his father's and his own old London +tailors. There was, moreover, some point in such a course, since it was +now known that Mr. Ringrose had settled his tailors' account, with +several others of the kind, on the very eve of his flight; so that in +the circumstances these people might fairly be expected to wait for +their money until Harry could earn it. Elsewhere he would have to pay +ready cash, a very serious matter, if not an impossibility for some +time to come. So Harry was really driven to go where he was known, but +yet so ashamed, that it was only the miserable interview with the +well-groomed gentleman aforesaid which had brought him to the point. He +had called at the tailors' on his way home, chosen his cloth and been +measured, only to be confronted by the senior partner at the door. + +"What do you think he wanted?" cried Harry in a blaze. "A guarantee +that they would be paid! I told them they needn't trouble to make the +things at all, and out I came." + +Lowndes dashed down his cup and was on his legs in an instant. + +"I'll give them their guarantee," said he. "You swallow your tea and +get your hat; we'll take a hansom back to your tailors, and I'll give +them their guarantee!" + +Harry was against any such intervention, but Mrs. Ringrose was against +Harry, and in less than five minutes Lowndes had carried him off. In +the hansom the spirits of that mirthful man rose higher than ever; he +sat rubbing his hands and chuckling with delight; but so truculent were +his sentiments that Harry, who hated a row as much as his companion +appeared to like one, was not a little nervous as to what would happen, +and got out finally with his heart in his mouth. + +What did happen need not be described. Suffice it that Mr. Lowndes +talked to that master-tailor with extraordinary energy for the space of +about three minutes, and that in several different strains, preparing +his soil with simple reproaches, scarifying with sarcasm, and finally +trampling it down with a weight of well-worded abuse the like of which +Harry had never listened to off the stage. And the effect was more +extraordinary than the cause: the tradesman took it like a lamb, +apologised to Harry on the spot, and even solicited his friend's custom +as they turned to leave the shop. The result opened Harry's mouth in +sheer amazement. After a first curt refusal, Mr. Lowndes hesitated, +fingered a cloth, became gradually gracious, and in the end was +measured for no fewer than three suits and an Inverness cape. + +"Couldn't resist it!" said he, roaring with laughter in the cab. +"Trustfulness is a virtue we should all encourage, and I hope, +Ringrose, that you'll continue to encourage it in these excellent +fellows. I've sown the seed, it's for you to reap the flower; and +recollect that they'll think much more of you when you order six suits +than when you pay for one." + +"It was extraordinary," said Harry, "after the dressing-down you gave +them!" + +"Dressing-down?" said Lowndes. "I meant to dress 'em down, and I'll +dress anybody down who needs it--of that you may be sure. What's this? +Grosvenor Square? Do you see that house with the yellow balcony in the +far corner? That's my Lady Banff's--I gave _her_ a bit of my mind the +other evening. Went to see my Lord on business. Left standing in the +hall twenty minutes. Down came my Lady to dinner, so I just asked her, +as a matter of curiosity, if they took me for a stick or an umbrella, +to leave me there, and then I told her what I thought of the manners +and customs of her house. My Lady had me shown into the library at +once, and made me a handsome apology into the bargain. I guarantee +friend Yellowplush to know better next time!" + +Lowndes stayed to supper at the flat, and he became better and better +company as Harry Ringrose gradually yielded to the contagion of his +gaiety and his good-humour. He was certainly the most entertaining of +men; yet for a long time Harry resented being entertained by him, and +would frown one moment because he had been forced to laugh the moment +before. Nor was this because of anything that had already happened; it +was due entirely to the current behaviour of Gordon Lowndes. The man +took unwarrantable liberties. His status at the flat was rightly that +of a privileged friend, but Harry thought he presumed upon it +insufferably. + +Like many great talkers, Lowndes was a vile listener, who thought +nothing of interrupting Mrs. Ringrose herself; while as for Harry, he +tried more than once to set some African experience of his own against +the visitor's endless anecdotes; but he never succeeded, and for a time +the failures rankled. It was the visitor, again, who must complain of +the supper: the lamb was underdone, the mint sauce too sweet for him, +and the salad dressing which was on the table not to be compared with +the oil and vinegar which were not. These were the things that made +Harry hate himself when he laughed; yet laugh he must; the other's +intentions were so obviously good; and he did not offend Mrs. Ringrose. +She encouraged him to monopolise the conversation, but that without +appearing to attach too much importance to everything he said. And once +when Harry caught her eye, himself raging inwardly, there was an +indulgent twinkle in it which mollified him wonderfully, for it seemed +to say: "These are his little peculiarities; you should not take them +seriously; they do not make him any the less my friend--and yours." It +was this glance which undermined Harry's hostility and prepared his +heart for eventual surrender to the spell of which Gordon Lowndes was +undoubted master. + +"I tell you what, Ringrose," said he, as they rose from the table, "if +you don't get a billet within the next month, I'll give you one +myself." + +"You won't!" cried Harry, incredulously enough, for the promise had +been made without preliminary, and it seemed too good to be possible. + +"Won't I?" laughed Lowndes; "you'll see if I won't! What's more, it'll +be a billet worth half-a-dozen such as that uncle of yours is likely to +get you. What would you say to three hundred for a start?" + +"I knew you were joking," was what Harry said, with a sigh; and his +mother turned away as though she had known it too. + +"I was never more serious in my life," retorted Lowndes. "I'm up to my +chin in the biggest scheme of the century--bar none--though I'm not +entitled to tell you what it is at this stage. It's a critical stage, +Ringrose, but this week will settle things one way or the other. It's +simply a question whether the Earl of Banff will or whether the Earl of +Banff won't, and he's going to answer definitely this week. If he +will--and I haven't the slightest doubt of it in my own mind--the +Company will be out before you know where you are--and you shall be +Secretary----" + +"Secretary!" + +"Be good enough not to interrupt me, Ringrose. You shall be Secretary +with three hundred a year. Not competent? Nonsense; I'll undertake to +make you competent in a couple of hours; but if I say more, you'll know +too much before the time, and I'm pledged to secrecy till we land the +noble Earl. He's a pretty big fish, but I've as good as got him. +However, he's to let us know this week, and perhaps it would be as well +not to raise the wind on that three hundred meanwhile; but it's as good +as in your pocket, Ringrose, for all that!" + +Mrs. Ringrose sat in her chair, without a sound save that of her +knitting needles; and Harry formed the impression that she was already +in the secret of the unmentionable scheme, but that she disapproved of +it. He remarked, however, that he only wished he had known of such a +prospect in time to have mentioned it to his uncle at their interview. + +"Your uncle!" cried Lowndes. "I should like to have seen his face if +you had! I asked him to take shares the other day--told him I could put +him on the best thing of the reign--and it was as good as a pantomime +to see his face. Apart from his religious scruples, which make him +regard the City of London as the capital of a warmer place than +England, he's not what you would call one of Nature's sportsmen, that +holy uncle of yours. He's a gentleman who counts the odds. I wouldn't +trust him in the day of battle. Never till my dying day shall I forget +our first meeting!" + +And Lowndes let out a roar of laughter that might have been heard +throughout the mansions; but Harry looked at his mother, who was +smiling over her knitting, before he allowed himself to smile and to +ask what had happened. + +"Your mother had written to tell him I was going to call," said +Lowndes, wiping the tears from his eyes, "and when I did go he wanted +proof of my identity because I didn't happen to have a card on me. I +suppose he thought I looked a shady cuss, so he took it into his head I +wasn't the real Simon Pure. You see, there's nothing rash about your +uncle; as for me, I burst out laughing in his face, and that made +matters worse. He said he'd want a witness then--a witness to my +identity before he'd discuss his sister's affairs with me. 'All right,' +says I, 'you shall have half a dozen witnesses, for I'll call my +underclothes! There's "Gordon Lowndes" on my shirt and collar--there's +"Gordon Lowndes" on my pants and vest--and if there isn't "Gordon +Lowndes" on both my socks there'll be trouble when I get home,' I told +him; and I was out of my coat and waistcoat before he could stop me. +I'd have gone on, too, but that was enough for your uncle! I can see +him now--it was on his doorstep--but he let me in after that!" + +Harry had a hearty, boyish laugh which it was a pleasure to hear, and +Mrs. Ringrose heard it now as she had not heard it for two years; for +she had shown that the story did not offend her by laughing herself; +and besides, the boy also could see his uncle, with sable arms +uplifted, and this impudent Bohemian coolly stripping on the doorstep. +His innate impudence was brought home to Harry in different fashion a +moment later, when the visitor suddenly complained of the light, and +asked why on earth there was only one gas-bracket in a room of that +size. + +"Because I could not afford more," replied Mrs. Ringrose. + +"Afford them, my dear madam? There should have been no question of +affording them!" cried Gordon Lowndes. "You should have brought what +you wanted from your own house." + +"But it wasn't our own," sighed Mrs. Ringrose; "it belonged to--our +creditors." + +"Your creditors!" echoed Lowndes, with scathing scorn. "It makes me +positively ill to hear an otherwise sensible lady speak of creditors in +that submissive tone! I regard it as a sacred obligation on all of us +to get to windward of our creditors, by fair means or foul. We owe it +to our fellow-creatures who may find themselves similarly situated +to-morrow or next day. If we don't get to windward of our creditors, be +very sure they'll get to windward of us. But to pamper and pet the +enemy--as though they'd dare to say a word about a petty +gas-bracket!--was a perfect crime, my dear Mrs. Ringrose, and one that +showed a most deplorable lack of public spirit. I only wish I'd thought +of your gas-brackets when I was down there the day before yesterday!" + +"Why? What would you have done?" demanded Harry with some heat. + +"Come away with one in my hat!" roared Lowndes. "Come away with the +chandelier next my skin!" + +And he broke into a great guffaw in which Harry Ringrose joined in his +own despite. It was absurd to apply conventional standards to this +sworn enemy of convention. It was impossible to be angry with Gordon +Lowndes. Harry determined to take no further offence at anything he +might say or do, but to follow his mother's tacit example and to accept +her singular friend on her own tolerant terms. Nor was it hard to see +when the lad made amiable resolutions; they flew like flags upon his +face; and Mrs. Ringrose was able to go to bed and to leave the pair +together with an easy mind. + +Whereupon they sat up till long after midnight, and Harry, having +relinquished all thought of entertaining Gordon Lowndes, was himself +undeniably entertained. He had seen something of the world (less than +he thought, but still something), yet he had never met with anybody +half so interesting as Lowndes, who had been everywhere, seen +everything, and done most things, in his time. He had made and lost a +fortune in different companies, the names of which Harry hardly caught, +for they set him speculating upon the new Company which was to make his +own small fortune too. Lowndes, however, refused to be drawn back to +that momentous subject. Nor were all the exploits he recounted of a +financial cast; there were some which Harry would have flatly +disbelieved the day before; but one and all were consistent with the +character of the man as he had seen it since. + +Great names seemed as familiar to him as his own, and, after the scene +at the tailors', Harry could well believe that Mr. Lowndes had heckled +a very eminent politician to his inconvenience, if not to the alleged +extent of altering the entire course of a General Election. He was also +the very man to have defended in person an action for libel, and to +have lost it by the little error of requesting the judge to "be good +enough to hold his tongue." The consequences had been serious indeed, +but Lowndes described them with considerable relish. His frankness was +not the least of his charms as a raconteur. Before he went he had +confessed to one crime at least--that of blackmailing a surgeon-baronet +for a thousand pounds in his own consulting-room. + +"He got a hold of the bell-rope," said Lowndes, "but it was no use his +playing the game of bluff with _me_. I simply laughed in his face. He'd +murdered a poor man's wife--vivisected her, Ringrose--taken her to +pieces like a watch--and he'd got to pay up or be exposed." + +For it was disinterested blackmail, so that even this story was +characteristic if incredible. It illustrated what may be termed an +officious altruism--which Harry had seen operating in his own +behalf--side by side with a perfectly piratical want of principle which +Lowndes took no pains to conceal. It was impossible for an +impressionable young fellow, needing a friend, not to be struck by one +so bluff, so masterful, so kind-hearted, and probably much less +unscrupulous than it pleased him to appear; and it was impossible for +Harry Ringrose not to put the kind heart first, as he came upstairs +after seeing Lowndes into a hansom, and thought how joyfully he would +come up them if he were sure of earning even one hundred a year. + +And Lowndes said three! + +"I am thankful you like him," said Mrs. Ringrose, who was still awake. +"But--we all can see the faults of those we really like--and there's +one fault I do see in Mr. Lowndes. He is so sanguine!" Mrs. Ringrose +might have added that we see those faults the plainest when they are +also our own. + +"Sanguine!" said Harry. "How?" + +"He expects Lord Banff to make up his mind this week." + +"Well?" + +"It has been 'this week' all this year!" + +Harry looked very sad. + +"Then you don't think much of my chances of that--three hundred? I +might have seen you didn't at the time." + +"No, my boy, I do not. Of his will to help you there can be no +question; his ability is another matter; and we must not rely on him." + +"But you say he has helped you so much?" + +"In a different way." + +"Well," said Harry after a pause, "in spite of what you say, he seems +quite sure himself that everything will be settled to-morrow. He has an +appointment with Lord Banff in the afternoon. He wants to see me +afterwards, and has asked me to go down and spend the evening with them +at Richmond." + +Mrs. Ringrose lay conspicuously silent. + +"Who are 'they,' mother?" continued her son. "Somehow or other he is a +man you never associate with a family, he's so complete in himself. Is +he married?" + +"His wife is dead." + +"Then there are children?" + +"One daughter, I believe." + +"Don't you know her?" + +"No; and I don't want to!" cried Mrs. Ringrose. So broke the small +storm which had been brewing in her grave face and altered voice. + +"Why not, mother?" + +"She has never been near me! Here I have been nearly two months, and +she has never called. I shall refuse to see her when she does. The +father can come, but we are beneath the daughter. We are in trouble, +you see! I only hope you'll have very little to say to her." + +"I won't go at all if you'd rather I didn't." + +"No, you must go; but be prepared for a snub--and to snub her!" + +The bitterness of a sweet woman is always startling, and Harry had +never heard his mother speak so bitterly. Her spirit infected him, and +he left her with grim promises. Yet he went to bed more interested than +ever in Gordon Lowndes. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +ON RICHMOND HILL. + + +It was the hour before sunset when Harry Ringrose took the train from +Earl's Court to Richmond, and, referring to an envelope which Lowndes +had given him overnight, inquired his way to Sandringham, Greville +Road, Richmond Hill. Having no experience of suburban London, he was +prepared to find a mansion not absolutely unworthy of its name, and was +rather astonished at having to give that of the road to the policeman +who directed him. He had half expected that officer to look impressed +and say, "Oh, yes, Mr. Lowndes's; the large house on the hill; you +can't mistake it." For though he gathered that Lowndes was only about +to become a millionaire, and that his contempt for creditors was +founded upon some former personal experience of that obnoxious class, +it nevertheless appeared to Harry that his friend must be pretty well +off as it was. At all events, he thought nothing of losing the last +train and driving all this way home. + +Harry had never been in Richmond before, and the picturesque features +with which its narrow streets still abound were by no means lost upon +him. Here a quaint gable, and there a tile roof, sunken and discoloured +with sheer age, reminded him that he was indeed in the old country once +more; and he rejoiced in the fact with a blessed surcease of the pain +and shame with which his home-coming had been fraught. May was in his +blood; and as he climbed the hill the words of the old song, that +another Richmond claims, rang so loud in his head that he had a work to +keep them back from his lips:-- + +"On Richmond Hill there lives a lass, More bright than May-day morn; +Whose charms all other maids' surpass--A rose without a thorn. This +lass so neat, with smiles so sweet, Has won my right good will. I'd +crowns resign to call her mine, Sweet lass of Richmond Hill!" + +The young fellow could not help thinking that it was a lass of Richmond +Hill he was about to meet, and wondering whether her smiles would prove +sweet, and her charms superior to those of all other maids. Harry +Ringrose had never been in love. He had been duly foolish in his callow +day, but that was nothing. From the firm pedestal of one-and-twenty he +could look back, and lay his hand upon his heart, and aver with truth +that it had never been irretrievably lost. Nevertheless, Harry was +quite prepared to lose his heart as soon as ever he realised the ideal +which was graven upon it; or he had been so prepared until the +revelation of these last days had hurled such idle aspirations to the +winds. But, for some reason, the memory of that revelation did not +haunt him this evening; and, accordingly, he was so prepared once more. + +One of the many inconveniences of preconceiving your fate lies in the +nervous feeling that it may be lurking round every corner in the shape +of every woman you are about to meet. Even when he met them Harry was +not always sure. His ideal was apt to be elastic in the face of obvious +charms. It was only the impossibles that he knew at sight, such as the +girl who was climbing the hill ahead of him at this moment. Harry would +not have looked twice at her but for one circumstance. + +She was tall and well-built, on a far larger scale than Harry cared +about, and yet she was continually changing a bag which she carried +from one hand to the other. It was a leather travelling-bag, of no +excessive size, but as she carried it in one hand her body bent itself +the other way; and she never had it in the same hand long. + +The hill was steep and seemed interminable; it was the warm evening of +a hot day; and Harry, slowly overhauling the young woman, might have +seen that she had pretty hair and ears, but he could think of nothing +but her burden and her fatigue. He could not even think of himself and +his ideals, and had so ceased committing his besetting sin. What he did +see, however, was that the girl was a lady, and he heartily wished that +she were not. He longed to carry that bag for her, but he could not +bring himself to offer to do so. He had too much delicacy or too little +courage. + +Irresolutely he slackened his pace; he was ashamed, despite his +scruples, to pass her callously without a word. He was close behind her +now. He heard her breathing heavily. Was there nothing he could say? +Was there no way of putting it without offence? Harry was still +thinking when the knot untied itself. The girl had stopped dead, and +put the bag down with a deep sigh, and Harry had caught it up without +thinking any more. + +"What are you doing?" cried the girl. "Give that back to me at once." + +Her voice was very indignant, but also a little faint; and the note of +alarm with which it began changed to one of authority as she saw that, +at any rate, she was not dealing with a thief. + +"I beg your pardon," said Harry, very red, as he raised his hat with +his unoccupied hand; "but--but you really must let me carry it a little +way for you." + +"I could not dream of it. Will you kindly give it me back this +instant?" + +The girl was now good-humoured but very firm. She also had coloured, +but her lips remained pale with fatigue. And she had very fine, +fearless, grey eyes; but Harry found he could defy them in such a +cause, so that they flashed with anger, and a foot--no very small +one--stamped heartily on the pavement. + +"Did you hear what I said?" + +"I did; but----" + +"Give it to me!" + +"It's so heavy." + +"Give it to me!" + +He was wondering whether the bag was full of jewels, that she was in +such a state about it, when all at once she grabbed at the handle he +still hesitated to relinquish. The bag came open between them--and to +his amazement he saw what it contained. + +Coals! + +A few fell out upon the pavement. Harry stooped, put them in again, and +shut the bag. The young lady had moved away. She was walking on slowly +ahead, and from her shoulders Harry feared that she was crying. He +followed miserably but doggedly with the bag. + +She never looked round, and he never took his eyes from those broad, +quivering shoulders. He felt an officious brute, but he had a certain +fierce consolation too: he had got his way--he had not been beaten by a +woman. And the heaviness of the bag, no longer to be wondered at, was +in itself a justification; he also had changed it from hand to hand, +and that more than once, before they came to the top of the hill. + +Here he followed his leader down a broad turning to the left, and +thence along a smaller road until she stopped before the low wooden +gate of a shabby little semi-detached house. Evidently this was her +destination, and she was waiting for her bag. And now Harry lost +confidence with every step he took, for the girl stood squarely with +her back to the gate, and her eyes were dry but very bright, as though +she meant to give him a bit of her mind before she let him go. + +"You may put it down here." + +Harry did so without a word. + +"Thank you. You are a stranger to Richmond, I think?" + +The thanks had sounded ironical, and the question took Harry aback. The +grey eyes looked amused, and it was the last expression he had expected +in them. + +"How did you know that?" he simply asked. + +"You are too sunburnt for Richmond, and--perhaps--too gallant!" + +"Or officious?" + +Her pleasant tone put him at his ease. + +"No; it was very kind of you, and one good turn deserves another. Were +you looking for any particular road or house?" + +"Yes, for Sandringham, in the Greville Road." + +She stood aside and pointed to the name on the little wooden gate. + +"Why, this is it!" gasped Harry Ringrose. + +"Yes; this is Sandringham," said the girl, with a sort of shamefaced +humour. "No wonder you are disappointed!" + +His eyes came guiltily from the little house with the big name. "Then +are you Miss Lowndes?" he inquired aghast. + +"That is my name--Mr. Ringrose." + +Spoken with the broadest smile, this was the last straw so far as +Harry's manners were concerned. + +"How on earth do you know mine?" cried he. + +"I guessed it in the road." + +"How could you?" + +"How did I know you were a stranger to Richmond?" rejoined Miss +Lowndes. "Anybody could see that you have come from foreign parts; and +I had heard all about you from my father. Besides, I expected you. I +only hoped to get home first with my coals. And to be caught like +this--it's really too bad!" + +"I am awfully sorry," murmured Harry, and with such obvious sincerity +that Miss Lowndes smiled again. + +"I think you may be!" said she. "One may find that stupidity in the +kitchen has run one short of coals at the very moment when they are +wanted most, and the quickest thing may be for one to go oneself and +borrow a few from a friend. But it's hard lines to be caught doing so, +Mr. Ringrose, for all that!" + +So this was the explanation. To Harry Ringrose it was both simple and +satisfying; but before he could say a word Miss Lowndes had changed the +subject abruptly by again pointing to the grand name on the gate. + +"This is another thing I may as well explain for your benefit, Mr. +Ringrose; it is one of my father's little jokes. When he came here he +was so tickled by the small houses with the large names that he +determined to beat his neighbours at their own game. It was all I could +do to prevent him from having 'Buckingham Palace' painted on the gate. +So you are quite forgiven for finding it difficult to believe that this +was the house, and also for upsetting my coals. And now I think we may +shake hands and go in." + +He took with alacrity the fine firm hand which was held out to him, and +felt already at his ease as he followed Miss Lowndes to the steps, +again carrying the bag. By this time, moreover, he had noted and +admired her pretty hair, which was fair with a warm tinge in it, her +rather deep but very pleasant voice, and the clear and healthy skin +which had her father's freshness in finer shades. She was obviously +older than Harry, and stronger-minded as well as less beautiful than +his ideal type. But he had a feeling, even after these few minutes, +which had not come to him in all the hours that he had spent with +Gordon Lowndes. It was the feeling that he had found a real friend. + +But the surprises of the evening were only beginning, for while Harry +contemplated a warped and blistered front door, in thorough keeping +with the poverty-stricken appearance of the house, it was opened by a +man-servant not unworthy of the millionaire of the immediate future. +And yet next moment he found himself in a sitting-room as sordid as the +exterior. The visitor was still trying to reconcile these +contradictions when Miss Lowndes followed him slowly into the room, +reading a telegram as she came. + +"Are you very hungry, Mr. Ringrose?" said she, looking up in evident +anxiety. + +"Not a bit." + +"Because I am afraid my father will not be home for another hour. This +is a telegram from him. He has been detained. But it doesn't seem fair +to ask you to wait so long!" + +"I should prefer it. I shall do myself much better justice in an hour's +time," said Harry, laughing; but Miss Lowndes still appeared to take +the situation seriously, though she also seemed relieved. And her +embarrassment was notable after the way in which she had carried off +the much more trying contretemps in the road. It was as though there +were something dispiriting in the atmosphere of the poky and +ill-favoured house, something which especially distressed its young +mistress; for they sat for some time without a word, while dusk +deepened in the shabby little room; and it was much to Harry's relief +when he was suddenly asked if he had ever seen the view from Richmond +Hill. + +"Never," he replied; "will you show it to me, Miss Lowndes? I have +often heard of it, and I wish you would." + +"It would be better than sitting here," said his companion, "though I'm +afraid you won't see much in this light. However, it's quite close, and +we can try." + +It was good to be in the open air again, but, as Miss Lowndes observed, +it was a pity she had not thought of it before. In the park the shadows +were already deep, and the deer straggling across the broad paths as +they never do till nightfall. A warm glow still suffused the west, and +was reflected in the river beneath, where pleasure-boats looked black +as colliers on the belt of pink. It was the hour when it is dark +indoors but light without, and yellow windows studded the woody levels +while the contour of the trees was yet distinct. Even where the river +coiled from pink to grey the eye could still follow it almost to +Twickenham, a leaden track between the leaves. + +"I only wish it were an hour earlier," added Miss Lowndes when she had +pointed out her favourite landmarks. "Still, it's a good deal +pleasanter here than indoors." She seemed a different being when she +was out of that house; she had been talkative enough since they +started, but now she turned to Harry. + +"Tell me about Africa, Mr. Ringrose. Tell me all the interesting things +you saw and did and heard about while you were out there!" + +Harry caught his breath with pleasure. It was the unconscious fault of +his adolescence that he was more eager to convey than receive; it was +the complementary defect of the quality of enthusiasm which was Harry's +strongest point. He had landed from his travels loaded like a gun with +reminiscence and adventure, but the terrible return to the old home had +damped his priming, and at the new home the future was the one affair +of his own of which he had had time or heart to think. But now the +things came back to him which he had come home longing to relate. He +needed no second bidding from the sympathetic companion at his side, +but began telling her, diffidently at first, then with all his boyish +gusto as he caught and held her interest, the dozen and one experiences +that had been on his tongue three days (that seemed three weeks) ago. + +To talk and be understood--to talk and be appreciated--it was half the +battle of life with Harry Ringrose at this stage of his career. It is +true that he had seen but little, and true that he had done still less, +even in these two last errant years of his. But whatsoever he had seen +or done, that had interested him in the least, he could bring home +vividly enough to anybody who would give him a sympathetic hearing. And +to do so was a deep and a strange delight to him; not, perhaps, +altogether unconnected with mere vanity; but ministering also to a +subtler sense of which the possessor was as yet unconscious. + +And Miss Lowndes listened to her young Othello, an older and more +critical Desdemona, who liked him less for the dangers he had passed +than for his ingenuous delight in recounting them. The talk indeed +interested, but the talker charmed her, so that she was content to +listen for the most part without a word. Meanwhile they were sauntering +farther and farther afield, and at length the new Desdemona was +compelled to tell Othello they must turn. He complied without pausing +in the story. Her next interruption was more serious. + +"Don't you write?" she suddenly exclaimed. + +"Write what?" + +"Things for magazines." + +"I wish I did! The magazine at school was the only one I ever tried my +hand for. Who told you I wrote?" + +"Mrs. Ringrose has shown things to my father, and he thought them very +good. It only just struck me that what you are telling me would make +such a capital magazine sketch. But it was very rude of me to +interrupt. Please go on." + +"No, Miss Lowndes, I've gone on too long as it is! Here have I been +talking away about Africa as though nothing had happened while I was +there; and it's only three days since I landed and found +out--everything!" + +His voice was strangely altered: the shame of forgetting, the pain of +remembering, saddened and embittered every accent. Miss Lowndes, +however, who had so plainly shared his enthusiasm, as plainly shrank +from him in his depression. Harry was too taken up with his own +feelings to notice this. Nor did he feel his companion's silence; for +what was there to be said? + +"You should take to writing," was what she did say, presently. "You +have a splendid capital to draw upon." + +"Do you write?" + +"No." + +"It is odd you should speak of it. There's nothing I would sooner do +for a living--and something I've got to do--only I doubt if I have it +in me to do any good with my pen. I may have the capital, but I +couldn't lay it out to save my life." + +He spoke wistfully, however, as though he were not sure. And now Miss +Lowndes seemed the more sympathethic for her momentary lapse. She was +very sure indeed. + +"You have only to write those things down as you tell them, and I'm +certain they would take!" + +"Very well," laughed Harry, "I'll have a try--when I have time. I +suppose you know what your father promises me?" + +"No, indeed I don't," cried Miss Lowndes. + +"The Secretaryship of this new Company when it comes out!" + +For some moments the girl was silent, and then: "I'd rather see you +writing," she said. + +"But this would mean three hundred a year." + +"I would rather make one hundred by my pen!" + +Harry said that he would, too, as far as liking was concerned, but that +there were other considerations. He added that of course he did not +count upon the Secretaryship, which seemed far too good a thing to be +really within his reach, for it would be many a day before he was worth +three hundred a year in any capacity. Nevertheless, it was very kind of +Mr. Lowndes to have thought of such a thing at all. + +"He is kind," murmured the girl, breaking a silence which had +influenced Harry's tone. And it was a something in her tone that made +him exclaim: + +"He is the kindest man I have ever met!" + +"You really think so?" she cried, wistfully. + +"I know it," said Harry, at once touched and interested by her manner. +"It isn't as if he'd only been kind to me. He was more than kind three +days ago, and--and I didn't take it very well from him at first; but I +shall never forget it now! It isn't only that, however; it's his +kindness to my dear mother that I feel much more; and then--he was my +father's friend!" + +They walked on without a word--they were nearly home now--and this time +Harry thought less of his companion's silence, for what could she say? +But already he felt that he could say anything to her, and "You knew my +father?" broke from him in a low voice. + +"Oh, yes; I knew him very well." + +"He has been here?" said Harry, looking at the semi-detached house with +a new and painful interest as they stopped at the gate. + +"Yes; two or three times." + +"When was the last?" + +But the latch clicked with his words, and Miss Lowndes was hastening up +the path. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +A MILLIONAIRE IN THE MAKING. + + +There was a bright light in the little drawing-room, and Harry made +sure that the master of the house had returned from town. Miss Lowndes +put the question as soon as the door was opened, however, and he heard +the reply as he followed her within. + +"No, miss, not yet." + +"Then who is here?" + +"Mr. Huxtable." + +"Mr. Huxtable--in the drawing-room?" + +"He insisted on waiting, and I thought he might as well wait there as +anywhere." + +Harry thought the man's manner presumptuous, and, looking at him +severely, was actually answered with a wink. Before he had time to +think twice about that, however, Miss Lowndes marched erect into the +drawing-room, and the visitor at her heels became the unwilling witness +of a scene which he never forgot. + +A little bald man had planted himself on the hearthrug, where he stood +trembling like a terrier on the leash, in an attitude of indescribable +truculence and determination. + +"Good evening, young lady!" cried he, in a tone so insolent that Harry +longed to assault him on the spot. + +"Good evening, Mr. Huxtable. Do you wish to speak to me?" + +"No, thank you, miss. Not this time. I've spoken to you often enough +and nothing's come of it. To-night I mean to see your pa. 'E's not come +'ome yet, 'asn't 'e? Then 'ere I stick till 'e does." + +"May I ask what you want with him?" + +"May you arst?" roared Mr. Huxtable. "I like that, I'm blessed if I +don't! Oh, yes, you may arst, young lady, and you may pretend you don't +know; and much good it'll do you! I want my money; that's what _I_ +want. Thirty-eight pound seventeen shillings and fourpence for +butcher-meat delivered at this 'ere 'ouse--that's all _I_ want! If +you've got it 'andy, well and good; and if 'e's got it 'andy when 'e +comes in, well and good again, for 'ere I wait; but if not, I'll +county-court 'im to-morrow, and there's plenty more'll follow my +example. It's a perfect scandal the way this 'ouse is conducted. Not a +coal or a spud, let alone a bit o' meat, are you known to 'ave paid for +this blessed year. It's all over Richmond, and for my part I'm sick of +it. I've been put off and put off but I won't be put off no more. 'Ere +I stick till 'is nibs comes in." + +During the first half of this harangue--considerably lengthened by +pauses during which the tradesman gasped for breath and seemed once or +twice on the verge of apoplexy--Harry Ringrose was on the horns of a +dilemma in the hall. One moment he was within an ace of rushing in and +ejecting the fellow on his own responsibility, and the next he felt it +better to spare his new friend's feelings by making his own escape. But +the butcher had only partly said his say when a latch-key grated in the +door, and Gordon Lowndes entered in time to overhear the most +impertinent part. Shutting the door softly behind him, he stood +listening on the mat, with his head on one side and a very comical +expression on his face. Harry had been tremulous with indignation. +Lowndes merely shook with suppressed amusement; and, handing a heavy +parcel to Harry, entered the room, as the tradesman ceased, in a +perfect glow of good-humour and geniality. + +"Ah! my dear Huxtable, how are you?" cried he. "Delighted to see you; +only hope I haven't kept you very long. You must blame the Earl of +Banff, not me; he kept me with him until after eight o'clock. Not a +word, my dear sir--not one syllable! I know exactly what you are going +to say, and don't wonder at your wishing to see me personally. My dear +Huxtable, I sympathise with you from my soul! How much is it? Thirty or +forty pounds, eh? Upon my word it's too bad! But there again the Earl +of Banff's to blame, and I've a very good mind to let you send in your +account to him. His Lordship has been standing between me and a million +of money all this year, but he won't do so much longer. I think I've +brought him to reason at last. My good Mr. Huxtable, we're on the eve +of the greatest success in modern finance. The papers will be full of +it in about a week's time, and I shall be a rich man. But meanwhile I'm +a poor one--I've put my all on it--I've put my shirt on it--and I'm a +much poorer man than ever you were, Huxtable. Poor men should hang +together, shouldn't they? Then stand by me another week, and I give you +my word I'll stand by you. I'll pay you thirty shillings in the pound! +Fanny, my dear, write Mr. Huxtable an IOU for half as much again as we +owe him; and let him county-court me for _that_ if he doesn't get it +before he's many days older!" + +Mr. Huxtable had made several ineffectual attempts to speak; now he was +left without a word. Less satisfied than bewildered, he put the IOU in +his pocket and was easily induced to accept a couple of the Earl of +Banff's cigars before he went. Lowndes shook hands with him on the +steps, and returned rubbing his own. + +"My dear Ringrose," said he, "I'm truly sorry you should have come in +for this little revelation of our _res angusta_, but I hope you will +lay to heart the object-lesson I have given you in the treatment of +that harmful and unnecessary class known as creditors. There are but +two ways of treating them. One is to kick them out neck-and-crop, and +the other you have just seen for yourself. But don't misunderstand me, +Ringrose! I meant every word I said, and he shall have his thirty +shillings in the pound. The noble Earl has been a difficult fish to +play, but I think I've landed him this time. Yes, my boy, you'll be +drawing your three hundred a year, and I my thirty thousand, before +midsummer; but I'll tell you all about it after supper. Why, bless my +soul, that's the supper you've got in your hands, Ringrose! Take it +from him, Fanny, and dish it up, for I'm as hungry as a coach-load of +hunters, and I've no doubt Ringrose is the same." + +And now Harry understood the trepidation with which Miss Lowndes had +consulted him as to whether they should wait supper for her father, and +her relief on hearing his opinion on the point: there had been no +supper in the house. Lowndes, however, had brought home material for an +excellent meal, of which caviare, a raised pie, French rolls, +camembert, peaches and a pine-apple, and a bottle of Heidsieck, were +conspicuous elements. Black coffee followed, rather clumsily served by +the man-servant, who waited in a dress suit some sizes too small for +him. And after supper Harry Ringrose at last heard something definite +concerning the Company from which he was still assured that he might +count on a certain income of three hundred pounds a year. + +"Last night my tongue was tied," said Lowndes; "but to-night the matter +is as good as settled; and I may now speak without indiscretion. I must +tell you first of all that the Company is entirely my own idea--and a +better one I never had in my life. It is founded on the elementary +principle that the average man gives more freely to a good cause than +to a bad one, but most freely to the good cause out of which he's +likely to get some change. He enjoys doing good, but he enjoys it most +when it pays him best, and there you have the root of the whole matter. +Only hit upon the scheme which is both lucrative and meritorious, which +gives the philanthropist the consolation of reward, and the +money-grubber the kudos of philanthropy, and your fortune's made. You +may spread the Gospel or the Empire, and do yourself well out of +either; but, for my part, I wanted something nearer home--where charity +begins, Ringrose--and it took me years to hit upon the right thing. +Ireland has been my snare: to ameliorate the Irish peasant and the +English shareholder at the same swoop: it can't be done. I wasted whole +months over the Irish Peasants' Potato Produce Company, but it wouldn't +pan out. Nobody will put money into Ireland, and potatoes are cheap +already as the dirt they grow in. But I was working in the right +direction, and the crofter grievances came as a godsend to me about a +year ago. The very thing! I won't trouble you with the intermediate +stages; the Highland Crofters' Salmon and Trout Supply Association, +Limited, will be registered this week; and the greatest of Scottish +landlords, my good old Earl of Banff, is to be Chairman of Directors +and rope in all the rest." + +Harry asked how it was to be made to pay. Lowndes had every detail at +his finger-ends, and sketched out an amazing programme with bewildering +volubility. The price of salmon would be reduced a hundred per cent. +The London shops would take none but the Company's fish. Fresh trout +would sell like herrings in the street, and the Company would buy up +the fishmongers' shops all over the country, just as brewers bought up +public-houses. As soon as possible they would have their own line to +the North, and expresses full of nothing but fish would do the distance +without stopping in time hitherto unprecedented in railway annals. + +"But," said Harry, "there are plenty of fish in the sea, and in other +places besides the Highlands." + +"So there are, but in ten years' time we shall own every river in the +kingdom, and every cod-bank round the coast." + +"And where will the crofters come in then?" + +Lowndes roared with laughter. + +"They won't come in at all. It will be forgotten that they ever were +in: the original Company will probably be incorporated with the British +Fresh Water and Deep Sea Fishing Company, Limited. Capital ten +millions. General Manager, Sir Gordon Lowndes, Bart., Park Lane, W. +Secretary, H. Ringrose, Esq., at the Company's Offices, Trafalgar +Square. We shall buy up the Grand Hotel and have them there. As for the +crofters, they'll be our Empire and our Gospel; we'll play them for all +they're worth in the first year or two, and then we'll let them slide." + +Miss Lowndes had been present all this time, and Harry had stolen more +than one anxious glance in her direction. She never put in a word, nor +could she be said to wear her thoughts upon her face, as she bent it +over some needlework in the corner where she sat. Yet it was the +daughter's silent presence which kept Harry himself proof for once +against the always contagious enthusiasm of the father. He could not +help coupling it with other silences of the early evening, and the +Highland Crofters' Salmon and Trout Supply Association, Limited, left +him as cold as he felt certain it left Miss Lowndes. It was now after +eleven, however, and he rose to bid her good-night, while Lowndes went +to get his hat in order to escort him to the station. + +"And I shall never forget our walk," added Harry, and unconsciously +wrung her hand as though it were that of some new-found friend of his +own sex. + +"Then don't forget my advice," said Miss Lowndes, "but +write--write--write--and come and tell me how you get on!" + +It was her last word to him, and for days to come it stimulated Harry +Ringrose, like many another remembered saying of this new friend, +whenever he thought of it. But at the time he was most struck by her +tacit dismissal of the more brilliant prospects which had been +discussed in her hearing. + +"A fine creature, my daughter," said Lowndes, on the way to the +station. "She's one to stand by a fellow in the day of battle--she's as +staunch as steel." + +"I can see it," Harry answered, with enthusiasm. + +"Yes, yes; you have seen how it is with us, Ringrose. There's no use +making a secret of it with you, but I should be sorry for your mother +to know the hole we've been in, especially as we're practically out of +it. Yet you may tell her what you like; she may wonder Fanny has never +been to see her, but she wouldn't if she knew what a time the poor girl +has had of it! You've no conception what it has been, Ringrose. I +couldn't bear to speak of it if it wasn't all over but the shouting. +To-night there was oil in the lamps, but I shouldn't like to tell you +how many times we've gone to bed in the dark since they stopped our +gas. You may keep your end up in the City, because if you don't you're +done for, but it's the very devil at home. We drank cold water with our +breakfast this morning, and I can't conceive how Fanny got in coals to +make the coffee to-night." + +Harry could have told him, but he held his tongue. He was trying to +reconcile the present tone of Lowndes, which had in it a strong dash of +remorse, with the countless extravagances he had already seen him +commit. Lowndes seemed to divine his thoughts. + +"You may wonder," said he, "how I managed to raise wind enough for the +provender I had undertaken to bring home. I wonder if I dare tell you? +I called at your tailors' on my way to the noble Earl's, and--and I +struck them for a fiver! There, there, Ringrose, they'll get it back +next week. I've lived on odd fivers all this year, and I simply didn't +know where else to turn for one to-day. Yet they want me to pay an +income tax! I sent in my return the other day, and they sent it back +with 'unsatisfactory' written across my writing. So _I_ sent it back +with 'I entirely agree with you' written across theirs, and that seems +to have shut them up. One of the most pestilent forms of creditor is +the tax gatherer, and the income tax is the most iniquitous of all. +Never you fill one in correctly, Ringrose, if you wish me to remain +your friend." + +"But," said Harry, as they reached the station and were waiting for the +train, "you not only keep servants----" + +"Servants?" cried Lowndes. "We have only one, and she's away at the +seaside. I send her there for a change whenever she gets grumpy for +want of wages. I tell her she looks seedy, and I give her a sovereign +to go. It has the air of something thrown in, and it comes a good deal +cheaper than paying them their wages, Ringrose. I make you a present of +the tip for what it's worth." + +"But you have a man-servant, too?" + +"A man-servant! My good fellow, that's no servant of mine. I only make +it worth his while to lend a hand." + +"Who is he, then?" + +"This is your train; jump in and I'll tell you." + +The spectacled eyes were twinkling, and the sharp nose twitching, when +Harry leant out of the third-class carriage window. + +"Well, who is it?" + +"The old dodge, Ringrose, the old dodge." + +"What's that?" + +"The Man in Possession!" + +And Gordon Lowndes was left roaring with laughter on the platform. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE CITY OF LONDON. + + +It was a considerably abridged version of his visit to Richmond which +Mrs. Ringrose received from her son. Gordon Lowndes had indeed given +Harry free leave to tell his mother what he liked, but not even to her +could the boy bring himself to repeat all that he had seen and heard. +He preferred to quote the frank admissions of Lowndes himself, and that +with reticence and a definite object. It was Harry's ambition to remove +his mother's bitterness against the young woman who had never been to +see her; and, by explaining the matter as it had been explained to him, +he easily succeeded, since Mrs. Ringrose would have sympathised and +sorrowed with her worst enemy when that enemy was in distress. In +uprooting one prejudice, however, her son went near to planting another +in its stead. + +"I only hope, my boy, that you are not going to fall in love with her." + +"Mother!" + +"She seems to have made a deep impression on you." + +"But not that sort of impression! She is a fine creature, I can see, +and we got on capitally together. We shall probably become the best of +friends. But you need have no fears on any other score. Why, she must +be ever so much older than I am." + +"She is twenty-seven. He told me so." + +"There you are! Twenty-seven!" cried Harry, triumphantly. + +But it was not a triumph he enjoyed. Twenty-seven seemed a great age to +him, and six years an impassable gulf. Doubtless it was just as well, +especially when a person did not in the least resemble another person's +ideal; still, he had not supposed she was so old as that. He wished he +had not been told her age. Certainly it gave him a sense of safety, +just as he was beginning to wonder what the view would be like from +Richmond Hill to-day. But it was a little dull to feel so safe as all +that. + +This was the day on which Harry Ringrose had intended to pack up his +African curios and send them off to Lowndes's office. But, after the +conversation of which the above was a snatch, his mother charged him to +do nothing of the kind. If Mr. Lowndes was in such difficulties, it was +certainly not their place to add to them by claiming further favours at +his hands. Harry agreed, but said the idea had originated with Lowndes +himself. His mother was firm on the point, and counselled him either to +sell his own wares or to listen to her and give up the idea. + +So Harry haunted the Kensington Public Library, and patiently waited +his turn for such journals as the _Exchange and Mart_. But it was in an +evening paper that he came across the advertisement which brought the +first grist to his mill. A lady in a suburb guaranteed good prices for +secondhand books, left-off jewellery, and all kinds of bric-à-brac and +"articles of vertu," and inserted her advertisement in places as +original as itself. It caught Harry's eye more than once before the +idea occurred to him; but at length he made his way to that suburb with +a pair of ostrich eggs, an assegai, and a battle-axe studded with +brass-headed nails. He came back with a basket of strawberries, a pot +of cream, and several shillings in his pocket. Next evening a +post-office order to the amount of that first-class fare to London was +remitted to Gordon Lowndes, while a new silk hat hung on the pegs, to +give the boy a chance in the City. All that now remained of the curios +were one pair of ostrich eggs and a particularly murderous tomahawk, +with which Harry himself chopped up the empty packing-cases to save in +firewood. + +So a few days passed, and the new clothes came home, and Harry Ringrose +was externally smart enough for the Stock Exchange itself, before the +first letter came from Uncle Spencer. He had spoken to several of the +business men among his congregation, but, he regretted to say, with but +little result so far. Not that this had surprised him, as conscience +had of course forbidden him to represent his nephew as other than he +was in respect of that training and those qualifications in which Harry +was so lamentably deficient. He understood that for every vacant post +there were some hundreds of applicants, all of whom could write +shorthand and keep books, while the majority had taken the trouble to +master at least one foreign language. Harry had probably learned French +at school, but doubtless he had wasted his opportunities in that as in +other branches. Shorthand, however, appeared to be the most essential +requirement, and, as it was unfortunately omitted from the +public-school curriculum, Mr. Walthew was sending Harry a "Pitman's +Guide," in the earnest hope that he would immediately apply himself to +the mastery of this first step to employment and independence. +Meanwhile, one gentleman, whose name and address were given, had said +that he would be glad to see Henry if he cared to call, and of course +it was just possible that something might come of it. Henry would +naturally leave no stone unturned, and would call on this gentleman +without delay. Uncle Spencer, however, did not fail to add that he was +not himself sanguine of the result. + +"He never is," said Harry. "What's the good of going?" + +"You must do what your uncle says," replied Mrs. Ringrose, to whom the +letter had been written. + +"But what's the good if he's given me away beforehand? He will have +told the fellow I can't even write an office fist, and am generally no +use, so why should he take me on? And if the fellow isn't going to take +me on, why on earth should I go and see him?" + +Mrs. Ringrose pointed out that this was begging the question, and +reminded Harry that his Uncle Spencer took a pessimistic view of +everything. She herself then went to the opposite extreme. + +"I think it an excellent sign that he should want to see you at all, +and I feel sure that when he does see you he will want to snap you up. +What a good thing you have your new clothes to go in! Your uncle +doesn't say what the business is, but I am quite convinced it has +something to do with Africa, and that your experience out there is the +very thing they want. So be sure that you agree to nothing until we +have talked it over." + +Harry spent a few minutes in somewhat pusillanimous contemplation of +the Pitman hieroglyphs, wondering if he should ever master them, and +whether it would help him so very much if he did. It was not that he +was afraid of work, for he only asked to be put into harness at once +and driven as hard as they pleased. But it was a different matter to be +told first to break oneself in; and to begin instantly and in earnest +and alone required a higher order of moral courage than Harry could +command just then. + +But he went into the City that same forenoon, and he saw the gentleman +referred to in his uncle's letter. The interview was not more +humiliating than many another to which Harry submitted at the same +bidding; but it was the first, and it hurt most at the time. No sooner +had it begun than Harry realised that he had no clue as to the +relations subsisting between Mr. Walthew and the man of business, nor +yet as to what had passed between them on the subject of himself, and +he saw too late that he had allowed himself to be placed in a +thoroughly false position. It looked, however, as though the clergyman +had been less frank than he professed, for Harry was put through a +second examination, and his admissions received with the most painful +tokens of surprise. He was even asked for a specimen of his +handwriting, which self-consciousness made less legible than ever; in +the end his name was taken, "in case we should hear of anything," and +he was bowed out with broken words of gratitude on his lips and bitter +curses in his heart. + +He went home vowing that he never would submit to that indignity again: +yet again and again he did. + +Mr. Walthew was informed of the result of the interview which he had +instigated, and wrote back to say how little it surprised him. But he +mentioned another name and another address, and, in short, sent his +nephew hat-in-hand to some half-dozen of his friends and acquaintances, +none of whom showed even a momentary inclination to give the lad a +trial. Harry did not blame them, but he did blame his uncle for making +him a suppliant in one unlikely quarter after another. Yet he never +refused to go when it came to the point; for, though a week slipped by +without his learning to write a line of shorthand, Harry Ringrose had +character enough not to neglect a chance--no matter how slight--for +fear of a rebuff--no matter how brutal. + +Yet he never forgot the exquisite misery of those unwarrantable begging +interviews: the excitement of seeking for the office in the swarming, +heated labyrinth of the City--the depression of the long walk home with +another blank drawn from the bag. How he used to envy the smart youths +in the short black jackets and the shiny hats--all doing something--all +earning something! And how stolidly he looked the other way when in one +or two of those youths he recognised a schoolfellow. How could he face +anybody he had ever known before?--an idler, a pauper, and disgraced. +They would only cut him as he had been cut that first morning on his +way to the old home; therefore he cut them. + +But one day he was forced to break this sullen rule: his arm was +grabbed by the man he had all but passed, and a sallow London face +compelled his recognition. + +"You're a nice one, Ringrose!" said a voice with the London twang. "Is +it so many years since you shared a cabin on a ship called the +_Sobraon_, with a chap of the name of Barker?" + +"I'm awfully sorry," cried Harry with a blush. "You--I wasn't looking +for any one I knew. How are you, Barker?" + +"Oh, as well as a Johnny can be in this hole of a City. Thinking of +knocking up again and getting the gov'nor to send me another long +voyage. I'm not a man of leisure like you, Ringrose. What brings _you_ +here?" + +"Oh, I've only been to see a man," said Harry, without technical +untruth. + +"I pictured you loafin' about that rippin' old place in the photos you +used to have up in our cabin. Not gone to Oxford yet, then?" + +"No--the term doesn't begin till October. But----" Harry tried to tell +the truth here, but the words choked him, and the moment passed. + +"Not till October! Four clear months! What a chap you are, Ringrose; it +makes me want to do you an injury, upon my Sam it does. Look at me! At +it from the blessed week after I landed--at it from half-past nine to +six, and all for a measly thirty-five bob a week. How would you like +that, eh? How would you like that?" + +Harry's mouth watered, but he said he didn't know, and contrived to +force another smile as he held out a trembling hand. + +"Got to be going, have you?" said the City youth. "I thought you +bloated Johnnies were never in a hurry? Well, well, give a poor devil a +thought sometimes, cooped up at a desk all day long. Good-bye--you +lucky dog!" + +The tears were in Harry's eyes as he went his way, yet the smile was +still upon his lips, and it was grimly genuine now. If only the envious +Barker knew where the envy really lay! How was it he did not? To the +conscious wretch it was a revelation that all the world was not +conversant with his disappointment and his disgrace. + +To think that he had talked of going up to Oxford next term! It had +never been quite decided, and he blushed to think how he must have +spoken of it at sea. Still more was he ashamed of his want of common +pluck in pretending for a moment that he was going up still. + +"'Pluck lost, all lost,'" he thought, remorsefully; "and I've lost it +already! Oh, what would Innes think of me, for carrying his motto in my +heart when I don't need it, and never acting on it when I do!" + +That night he wrote it out on the back of a visiting card, and tacked +the tiny text to the wall above his bed:-- + +"MONEY LOST--LITTLE LOST HONOUR LOST--MUCH LOST PLUCK LOST--ALL LOST." + +And his old master's motto sent Harry Ringrose with a stout heart on +many another errand to the City, and steeled and strengthened him when +he came home hopeless in the evening. Yet it was very, very hard to +live up to; and many also were the unworthy reactions which afflicted +him in those dark summer days, that he had expected to be so free from +care, and so full of happiness. + + * * * * * + +One afternoon he crept down from a stockbroker's office, feeling +smaller than ever (for that stockbroker had made the shortest work yet +of him), to see a man selling halfpenny papers over a placard that +proclaimed "extraordinary scoring at Lord's." A spirit of recklessness +came over Harry, and buying a paper was but the thin end of his +extravagance. A minute later he had counted his money and found enough +to take him to St. John's Wood and into the ground; and it was still +the money that he had obtained for his curios; and town was intolerable +with that sinister London heat which none feel more than your seasoned +salamander from the tropics. Harry's new clothes were sticking to him, +and he thought how delicious it would be at Lord's. To think was to +argue. What was sixpence after all? He had had no lunch, and that would +have cost him sixpence more or less; he would do without any lunch, and +go to Lord's instead. + +It was delicious there, and Harry was so lucky as to squeeze into a +seat. Quite a breeze, undreamt of in the City, blew across the ground, +blowing the flannels of the players against their bodies and fetching +little puffs of dust from the pitch. The wicket was crumbling, the long +scores of the morning were at an end. It was only the tail of the +Middlesex team that Harry was in time to see batting, but they were +good enough for him. All his life he had nourished a hopeless passion +for the game, and every care was forgotten until the last man was out. + +"Why--Harry?" + +He had been looking at the pitch, and he spun round like an arrested +criminal. Yet the strong hand on his shoulder was also delicate and +full of kindness, and he was gazing into the best face he had ever +seen. His ideal woman he was still to find, but his ideal man he had +loved and worshipped from his twelfth year; and here he stood, supple +and athletic as ever, only slimmer and graver; and their hands were +locked. + +"Mr. Innes!" + +"I had no idea you were in England, Harry." + +"I have been back three weeks." + +"Why didn't you write?" + +He knew everything. Harry saw it in the kind, strong face, and heard it +in a voice rich with sympathy and reproach. + +"I was too ashamed," he murmured--and he hung his head. + +"You might have trusted me, old fellow," said Mr. Innes. "Come and sit +on top of the pavilion and tell me all about yourself." + +At any other time it would have been a sufficient joy to Harry Ringrose +to set foot in that classic temple of the sacred game; now he had eyes +for nothing and nobody but the man who led him up the steps, through +the cricketing throng, up the stairs. And when they sat together on +top, and the ground was cleared, and play resumed, not another ball did +Harry watch with intelligent eyes. He was sitting with the man to whom +he had been too proud to write, but whose disciple he had been at heart +for many a year. He was talking to the object of his early +hero-worship, and he found him his hero still. + +Mr. Innes listened attentively, gravely, but said very little himself. +He appreciated the difficulty of starting in life without money or +influence, and was too true a friend to make light of it. He thought +that business would be best if only an opening could be found. +Schoolmastering led to nothing unless one had money or a degree. Still +they must think and talk it over, and Harry must come down to Guildford +and see the new chapel and the swimming-bath. Could he come for a day +or two before the end of the term? Was he sure he could leave his +mother? Harry was quite sure, but would write when he got home. + +Then it was time for Mr. Innes to go, but first he gave Harry tea in +the members' dining-room, and after that a lift in his hansom as far as +Piccadilly. So that Harry reached home both earlier and in better case +than he might have done; whereupon Mrs. Ringrose, hearing his key in +the latch, came out to meet him with a face of mystery which contrasted +oddly with his radiance. + +"Oh, mother," he cried, "whom do you think I've seen! Innes! Innes! and +he's the same as ever, and wants me to go and stay with him, so you +were right, and I was wrong! What is it then? Who's here?" His voice +sank in obedience to her gestures. + +"Your Uncle Spencer," she whispered, tragically. + +"Delighted to see him," cried Harry, who had been made much too happy +by one man to be readily depressed by any other. + +"He has been waiting to see you since five o'clock, my boy." + +"Has he? Very sorry to hear that, uncle," said Harry, bursting into the +sitting-room and greeting the clergyman with the heartiness he was +feeling for all the world. Mr. Walthew looked at his watch. + +"Since a quarter before five, Mary," said he, "and now it wants seven +minutes to six. Not that I shall grudge the delay if it be attributable +to the only cause I can imagine to account for it. The circumstances, +Henry, are hardly those which warrant levity; if you have indeed been +successful at last, as I hope to hear----" + +"Successful, uncle?" + +"I understand that you have been to see the gentleman on the Stock +Exchange, who was kind enough to say that he would see you, and of whom +I wrote to you yesterday?" + +"So I have! I had quite forgotten that." + +"Forgotten it?" cried Mr. Walthew. + +"I beg your pardon, Uncle Spencer," said Harry, respectfully enough; +"but since I saw your friend I have been with Mr. Innes my old +schoolmaster, the best man in the whole world, and I am afraid it has +put the other interview right out of my head." + +"He did give you an interview, however?" + +"Yes, for about a minute." + +"And nothing came of it, as usual?" sneered the clergyman. + +"And nothing came of it--as usual--I am very sorry to say, Uncle +Spencer." + +"And what time was this?" + +"Between two and three." + +"You must excuse me, Henry, but I am doing my best to obtain employment +for you--I cannot say I have much hope now--still, I am doing my best, +and I am naturally interested in the use you make of your time. May I +ask--as I think I have a right to ask--where you have spent the +afternoon?" + +"Certainly, Uncle Spencer; at Lord's Cricket-ground." + +Harry was well aware that he had delivered a bombshell, and he quite +expected to receive a broadside in return. But he had forgotten Uncle +Spencer's mode of expressing superlative displeasure. It has been said +that Mr. Walthew never smiled, but there were occasions when a weird +grin shed a sort of storm-light on his habitual gloom. That was when +indignation baffled invective, and righteous anger fell back on holy +scorn. The present was an occasion in point. + +Mr. Walthew stared at Harry without a word, but gradually this unlovely +look broke out upon him, and at last he positively chuckled in his +beard. + +"You are out of work, and too incompetent to obtain any," said he, "and +yet you can waste your own time and your mother's money in watching a +cricket-match!" + +"I went without my lunch in order to do so," was Harry's defence. "And +besides, it was my money--I got it for my spears and things." + +"And you call that your money?" cried Uncle Spencer. "I would not talk +about my money until I was paying for my board and residence under this +roof!" + +"Now, that will do!" cried Mrs. Ringrose. "That is my business, +Spencer, and I will not allow you to speak so to my boy." + +"Come, come, mother," Harry interrupted, "my uncle is quite right from +his point of view. I admit I had qualms about going to Lord's myself. +But I think I must have been meant to go--I know there was some meaning +in my meeting Innes." + +"If anything could surprise me in you, Henry," resumed Mr. Walthew, "it +would be the Pagan sentiments which you have just pained me by +uttering. May you live to pray forgiveness for your heresy, as also for +your extravagance! But of the latter I will say no more, though I +certainly think, Mary, that where my assistance has been invoked I have +a right to speak my mind. The waste of money is, however, even less +flagrant, in my opinion, than the waste of time. It is now several +days, Henry, since I sent you a guide to shorthand. An energetic and +conscientious fellow, as anxious as you say you are to work for his +daily bread, could have mastered at least the rudiments in the time. +Have you?" + +"I told you he had not!" cried Mrs. Ringrose. "How can you expect it, +when every day he has been seeking work in the City? And he comes in so +tired!" + +"Not too tired to go to Lord's Cricket-ground, however," was the not +unjust rejoinder. "But perhaps his energy has found another outlet? +Last time I was here he was going to write articles and poems for the +magazines--so I understood. How many have you written, Henry?" + +Harry scorned to point out that it was his mother's words which were +being quoted against him, not his own; yet ever since his evening at +Richmond he had been meaning to try his hand at something, and he felt +guilty as he now confessed that he had not written a line. + +"I was sure of it!" cried the clergyman. "You talk of getting +employment, but you will not take the trouble to qualify yourself for +the humblest post; you talk of writing, but you will not take the +trouble even to write! Not that I suppose for a moment anything would +come of it if you did! The magazines, Henry, do not open their columns +to young fellows without literary training, any more than houses of +business engage clerks without commercial education or knowledge. Yet +it would be something even if you tried to write! It would be something +if you wrote--as probably you would write--for the waste-paper basket +and the dust-bin. But no, you seem to have no application, no energy, +no sense of duty; and what more I can do for you I fail to see. I have +written several letters on your account; I have risked offending +several friends. Nothing has come of it, and nothing is likely to come +of it until you put your own shoulder to the wheel. I have put mine. I +have done _my_ best. My conscience is an easy one, at any rate." + +Mr. Walthew caught up his hat and brought these painful proceedings to +a close by rising abruptly, as though his feelings were too much for +him. Mrs. Ringrose took his hand without a word, and without a word +Harry showed him out. + +"So his conscience is easy!" cried the boy, bitterly. "He talks as if +that had been his object--to ease his conscience--not to get me work. +He has sent me round the City like a beggar, and he calls that doing +his best! I had a good mind to tell him what I call it." + +"I almost wish you had," said Mrs. Ringrose, shedding tears. + +"No, mother, there was too much truth in what he says. I have been +indolent. Nevertheless, I believe Innes will get me something to do. +And meanwhile I intend to have my revenge on Uncle Spencer." + +"How, my boy?" + +Harry had never looked so dogged. + +"By getting something into a magazine within a week." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +A FIRST OFFENCE. + + +When Harry Ringrose vowed that he would get something into a magazine +within a week, he simply meant that he would write something and get it +taken by some editor. But even so he had no conception of the odds +against him. Few beginners can turn out acceptable matter at a day's +notice, and fewer editors accept within the week. Fortune, however, +often favours the fool who rushes in. + +Harry began wisely by deciding to make his first offering poetical, for +verses of kinds he had written for years, and besides, they would come +quicker if they came at all. Undoubted indolence is also discernible in +this choice, but on the whole it was the sound one, and that very +evening saw Harry set to work in a spirit worthy of a much older +literary hand. + +He found among the books the selected poems of Shelley which he had +brought home some mid-summers before as a prize for his English +examination. His own language was indeed the only one for which poor +Harry had shown much aptitude, though for a youth who had scribbled for +his school magazine, and formed the habit of shedding verses in his +thirteenth year, he was wofully ill-read even in that. Let it be +confessed that he took down his Shelley with the cynical and shameless +intention of seeking what he might imitate in those immortal pages. The +redeeming fact remains that he read in them for hours without once +recalling his impious and immoral scheme. + +It was years since he had dipped into the book, and its contents caused +him naive astonishment. He had read a little poetry in his desultory +way. Tennyson he loved, and Byron he had imitated at school But in all +his adventurings on the Ægean seas of song, he had never chanced upon +such a cluster of golden islets as the lyrics in this selection. The +epic mainland had always less attraction for him. He found it demand a +concentrative effort, and Harry was very sorry and even ashamed, but he +loved least to read that way. So he left "Alastor" and "The Witch of +Atlas" untouched and untried, and spent half the night in ecstasies +over such discoveries as the "Indian Serenade" and "Love's Philosophy." +These were the things for him; the things that could be written out on +half a sheet of notepaper or learnt in five minutes; the things he +loved to read, and would have died to write. + +He forgot his proposed revenge; he forgot his uttered vow. He forgot +the sinister design with which he had taken up his Shelley, and it was +pure love of the lines that left him, when he had blown out his candle, +saying his last-learnt over to himself: + + "Rarely, rarely, comest thou, + Spirit of Delight! + Wherefore hast thou left me now + Many a day and night? + Many a weary night and day + 'Tis since thou art fled away. + + How shall ever one like me + Win thee back again? + With the joyous and the free + Thou wilt scoff at pain. + Spirit false! thou hast forgot + All but those who need thee not. + + As a lizard with the shade + Of a trembling leaf, + Thou with sorrow art dismayed----" + +Here he stuck fast and presently fell asleep, to think no more of it +till he was getting up next morning. He was invaded with a dim +recollection of this poem while the water was running into his bath. As +he took his plunge, the lines sprang out clear as sunshine after rain, +and the man in the bath made a discovery. + +They were not Shelley's lines at all. They were his own. + +At breakfast he was distraught. Mrs. Ringrose complained. Harry pulled +out an envelope, made a note first, and then his apology. Mrs. Ringrose +returned as usual to her room, but Harry did not follow her with his +pipe. He went to his own room instead, and sat down on the unmade bed, +with a pencil, a bit of paper, and a frightful furrow between his +downcast eyes. In less than half-an-hour, however, the thing was done: +a highly imitative effort in the manner of those verses which he had +been saying to himself last thing the night before. + +The matter was slightly different: the subject was dreams, not delight, +and instead of "Spirit of Delight," the dreams were apostrophised as +"Spirits of the Night." Then the form of the stanza was freshened up a +little: the new poet added a seventh line, rhyming with the second and +fourth, while the last word of the fifth was common to all the stanzas, +and necessitated a new and original double-rhyme in the sixth line of +each verse. Harry found a rhyming dictionary (purchased in his +school-days for the benefit of the school magazine) very handy in this +connection. It was thus he made such short work of his rough draft. But +the fair copy was turned out (in the sitting-room) in even quicker +time, and a somewhat indiscreet note written to the Editor of _Uncle +Tom's Magazine_, though not on the lines which Mrs. Ringrose had once +suggested. A "stamped directed envelope" was also prepared, and +enclosed in compliance with _Uncle Tom's_ very explicit "Notice to +Contributors." Then Harry stole down and out, and posted his missive +with a kind of guilty pride: after all, the deed itself had been a good +deal less cold-blooded than the original intention. + +Mrs. Ringrose knew nothing. She had seen Harry scribble on an envelope, +and that was all. She knew how the boy blew hot and cold, and she did +him the injustice of concluding he had renounced his vow, but the +kindness of never voicing her conclusion. Yet his restless idleness, +and a something secretive in his manner, troubled her greatly during +the next few days, and never more than on the Saturday morning, when +Harry came in late for breakfast and there was a letter lying on his +plate. + +"You seem to have been writing to yourself," said Mrs. Ringrose, as she +looked suspiciously from Harry to the letter. + +"To myself?" he echoed, and without kissing her he squeezed round the +table to his place. + +"Yes; that's your writing, isn't it? And it looks like one of my +envelopes!" + +It was both. Harry stood gazing at his own superscription, and weighing +the envelope with his eye. He was afraid to feel it. It looked too thin +to contain his verses. It was too thin! Between finger and thumb it +felt absolutely empty. He tore it open, and read on a printed slip the +sweetest words his eyes had ever seen. + +"The Editor of _Uncle Tom's Magazine_ has great pleasure in accepting +for publication----" + +The title of the verses (a very bad one) was filled in below, the date +below that, and that was all. + +"Oh, mother, they've accepted my verses!" + +"Who?" + +"_Uncle Tom's Magazine._" + +"Did you actually send some verses to _Uncle Tom_?" + +"Yes, on Tuesday, the day after Uncle Spencer was here. I've done what +I said I'd do. He'll see I'm not such an utter waster after all." + +"And you--never--told--me!" + +His mother's eyes were swimming. He kissed them dry, and began to make +light of his achievement. + +"Mother, I couldn't. I didn't know what you would think of them. I +didn't think much of them myself, nor do I now. The verses in _Uncle +Tom_ are not much. And then--I thought it would be a surprise." + +"Well, it wouldn't have been one if I had known you had sent them," +said Mrs. Ringrose; and now she was herself again. "I only hope, my +boy," she added, "that they will pay you something." + +"Of course they will. _Uncle Tom_ must have an excellent circulation." + +"Then I hope they'll pay you something handsome. Did you tell the +Editor how long we have taken him in?" + +"Mother!" + +"Then I've a great mind to write and tell him myself. I am sure it +would make a difference." + +"Yes; it would make the difference of my getting the verses back by +return of post," said Harry, grimly. + +Mrs. Ringrose looked hurt, but gave way on the point, and bade him go +on with his breakfast. Harry did so with the _Uncle Tom_ acceptance +spread out and stuck up against the marmalade dish, and one eye was on +it all the time. Afterwards he went to his room and read over the rough +draft of his verses, which he had not looked at since he sent them +away. He could not help thinking a little more of them than he had +thought then. He wondered how they would look in print, and referred to +one of the bound _Uncle Toms_ to see. + +"Well, have you brought them?" said Mrs. Ringrose when he could keep +away from her no longer. + +"The verses? No, dear, I have only a very rough draft of them, which +you couldn't possibly read; and I could never read them to you--I +really couldn't." + +"Not to your own mother?" + +He shook his head. He was also blushing; and his diffidence in the +matter was not the less genuine because he was swelling all the time +with private pride. Mrs. Ringrose did not press the point. The +pecuniary side of the affair continued to interest her very much. + +"Do you think fifty?" she said at length, with considerable obscurity; +but her son knew what she was talking about. + +"Fifty what?" + +"Pounds!" + +"For my poor little verses? You little know their length! They are only +forty-two lines in all." + +"Well, what of that? I am sure I have heard of such sums being given +for a short poem." + +"Well, they wouldn't give it for mine. Fifty shillings, more like." + +"No, no. Say twenty pounds. They could never give you less." + +Harry shook his head and smiled. + +"A five-pound note, at the very outside," said he, oracularly. "But +whatever it is, it'll be one in the eye for the other uncle! Upon my +word, I think we must go to his church to-morrow evening." + +"It will mean going in to supper afterwards, and you know you didn't +like it last time." + +"I can lump it for the sake of scoring off Uncle Spencer!" + +But that was more easily said than done, especially, so to speak, on +the "home ground," where a small but exclusively feminine and entirely +spiritless family sang a chorus of meek approval to the reverend +gentleman's every utterance. When, therefore, Mr. Walthew added to his +melancholy congratulations a solemn disparagement of all the lighter +magazines (which he boasted were never to be seen in his house), the +echo from those timid throats was more galling than the speech itself. +But when poor Mrs. Ringrose ventured only to hint at her innocent +expectations as to the honorarium, and her brother actually laughed +outright, and his family made equally merry, then indeed was Harry +punished for the ignoble motives with which he had attended his uncle's +church. + +"My good boy," cried Uncle Spencer, with extraordinary geniality, "you +will be lucky if you get a sixpence! I say again that I congratulate +you on the prospect of getting into print at all. I say again that even +that is not less a pleasure than a surprise to me. But I would not +delude myself with pecuniary visions until I could write serious +articles for the high-class magazines!" + +Between his mother's presentiments and his uncle's prognostications, +the contributor himself endeavoured to strike a happy medium; but even +he was disappointed when an afternoon post brought a proof of the +verses, together with a postal order for ten-and-sixpence. Harry showed +it to his mother without a word, and for the moment they both looked +glum. Then the boy burst out laughing, and the lady followed suit. + +"And I had visions of a fiver," said Harry. + +"Nay, but I was the worst," said his mother, who was laughing and +crying at the same time. "I said twenty!" + +"It only shows how much the public know about such things. +Ten-and-six!" + +"Well, my boy, that's better than what your uncle said. How long did it +take you to write?" + +"Oh, not more than half an hour. If it comes to that, the money was +quickly earned." + +For a minute and more Mrs. Ringrose gazed steadily at an upper sash, +which was one's only chance of seeing the sky through the windows of +the flat. Her lips were tightly pursed; they always were when she was +in the toils of a calculation. + +"A thousand a year!" she exclaimed at length. + +"What do you mean, mother?" + +"Well, if this poem only took you half an hour, you might easily turn +out half a dozen a day. That would be three guineas. Three guineas a +day would come to over a thousand a year." + +Harry laughed and kissed her. + +"I'll see what I can do," he said; "but I'm very much afraid half a +dozen a week will be more than I can manage. Three guineas a week would +be splendid. I shouldn't have to go round begging for work any more; +they would never give me half as much in an office. Heigho! Here are +the verses for you to read." + +He put on his hat, and went into the High Street to cash his order. It +was the first money his pen had ever earned him in the open market, +and, since the sum seemed to Harry too small to make much difference, +he determined to lay out the whole of it in festive and appropriate, if +unjustifiable fashion. The High Street shops met all his wants. At one +he bought a ninepenny tin of mulligatawny, and a five-and-ninepenny +bottle of Perrier Jouet; at another, some oyster patties and meringues +and half a pound of pressed beef (cut in slices), which came to +half-a-crown between them. The remaining shilling he spent on +strawberries and the odd sixpence on cream. He would have nothing sent, +so we may picture a triumphant, but rather laborious return to the +flat. + +He found his mother in tears over the proofs of his first verses; she +shed more when he showed her how he had spent his first honorarium. Yet +she was delighted; there had been very little in the house, but now +they would be able to do without the porter's wife to cook, and would +be all by themselves for their little treat. No one enjoyed what she +loved to call a "treat" more than Mrs. Ringrose; and perhaps even in +the best of days she had never had a greater one than that now given +her by her extravagant son. It was unexpected, and, indeed, +unpremeditated; it had all the elements of success; and for one short +evening it made Harry's mother almost forget that she was also the wife +of a fraudulent and missing bankrupt. + +Harry, too, was happier than he had been for many a day. In the course +of the evening he stole innumerable glances at his proof, wondering +what this friend or that would think of the verses when they came out +in _Uncle Tom_. Once it was through Lowndes's spectacles that he tried +to look at them, more than once from Mr. Innes's point of view, but +most often with the sterling grey eyes of the girl on Richmond Hill, +who had so earnestly begged him to write. He had heard nothing of her +from that evening to this; her father had not mentioned her in the one +letter Harry had received from him, and neither of them had been near +the flat. But he believed that Fanny Lowndes would like the verses; he +knew that she would encourage him to go on. + +And go on he did, with feverish energy, for the next few days. But the +good luck did not repeat itself too soon; for though the first taste of +printer's ink gave the lad energy, so that within a week he had +showered verses upon half the magazines in London, all those verses +returned like the dove to the ark, because it did not also bring him +good ideas, and his first success had spoilt him a little by costing no +effort. Even _Uncle Tom_ would have no more of him; and the unhappy +Harry began to look upon his imitation of Shelley as the mere fluke it +seemed to have been. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +BEGGAR AND CHOOSER. + + +The one communication which Harry Ringrose had received from Gordon +Lowndes was little more than a humorous acknowledgment of the sum +refunded to him after the sale of the trophies. The writer warmly +protested against the payment of a debt which he himself had never +regarded in that light. The worst of it was that he was not in a +position to refuse such payment. The prospects of the Highland +Crofters' Salmon and Trout Supply Association, Limited, were if +anything rosier than ever. But it was an axiom that the more gigantic +the concern, the longer and more irritating the initial delay, and no +news of the Company would be good news for some time to come. + +"Meanwhile I am here every day of my life," concluded Lowndes, "and +pretty nearly all day. Why the devil don't you look me up?" + +Indeed, Harry might have done so on any or all of those dreadful days +which took him a beggar to the City of London. His reason for not doing +so was, however, a very simple one. He did not want Lowndes to think +that he disbelieved in the H.C.S. & T.S.A., as he must if he knew that +Harry was assiduously seeking work elsewhere. Harry was not altogether +sure that he did utterly disbelieve in that colossal project. But it +was difficult to put much confidence in it after the revelations at +Richmond, and when it was obvious that the promoter's own daughter +lacked confidence in his schemes. Certainly it was impossible to feel +faith enough in the Highland Crofters' to leave lesser stones unturned. +And yet to let Lowndes know what he was doing might be to throw away +three hundred a year. + +So Harry had avoided Leadenhall Street on days when the +company-promoter's boisterous spirits and exuberant good-humour would +have been particularly grateful to him. But this was before he became a +successful literary man. He wanted Lowndes to hear of his success; he +particularly wanted him to tell his daughter. He was not sure that he +should avoid Leadenhall Street another time, nor did he when it came. + +This was after the successful effort had realised only half-a-guinea, +and when some subsequent attempt was coming back in disgrace by every +post. Mrs. Ringrose had taken a leaf out of Harry's book, and committed +a letter to the post without even letting him know that she had written +one. An answer came by return, and this she showed to Harry in +considerable trepidation. It was from the solicitor whom she had +mentioned on the day after Harry's arrival. In it Mr. Wintour Phipps +presented his compliments to Mrs. Ringrose, and stated that he would be +pleased to see her son any afternoon between three and four o'clock. + +"I thought old friends were barred?" Harry said, reproachfully. "I +thought we were agreed about that, mother?" + +"But this is not an old friend of yours or mine, my dear. I never knew +him; I only know what your father did for him. He paid eighty pounds +for his stamps, so I think he might do something for you! And so does +he, you may depend, or he would not write that you are to go and see +him." + +"He doesn't insist upon it," said Harry, glancing again at the +solicitor's reply. "He puts it pretty formally, too!" + +"Have I not told you that I never met him? It was your father and his +father who were such old friends." + +"So he writes to you through a clerk!" + +"How do you know?" + +"It's the very hand they all tell me I ought to cultivate." + +"I have no doubt he is a very busy man. I have often heard your father +say so. Yet he can spare time to see you! You will go to him, my +boy--to please your mother?" + +"I will think about it, dear." + +The mid-day post brought back another set of rejected verses. Harry +swallowed his pride. + +"It's all right, mother; I'll go and see that fellow this afternoon." + +And there followed the last of the begging interviews, which in +character and result had little to differentiate it from all the rest. +Harry did indeed feel less compunction in bearding his father's god-son +than in asking favours of complete strangers. He also fancied that he +was better fitted for the law than for business, and, when he came to +Bedford Row, he could picture himself going there quite happily every +day. The knowledge, too, that this Wintour Phipps was under obligations +to his father, sent the young fellow up a pair of dingy stairs with a +confidence which had not attended him on any former errand of the kind. +And yet in less than ten minutes he was coming down again, with his +beating heart turned to lead, but with a livelier contempt for his own +innocence than for the hardness of the world as most lately exemplified +by Wintour Phipps. Nor would the last of these interviews be worth +mentioning but for what followed; for it was on this occasion that +Harry went on to Leadenhall Street to get what comfort he could from +the one kind heart he knew of in the City of London. + +But there an unexpected difficulty awaited him. He remembered the +number, but he looked in vain for the name of Gordon Lowndes among the +others that were painted on the passage wall as you went in. So he +doubted his memory and tried other numbers; but results brought him +back to the first, and he climbed upstairs in quest of the name that +was not in the hall. He never found it; but as he reached the fourth +landing a peal of unmistakable laughter came through a half-open door. +And Harry took breath, for he had found his friend. + +"Very well," he heard a thin voice saying quietly, "since you refuse me +the slightest satisfaction, Mr. Lowndes, I shall at once take steps." + +"Steps--steps, do you say?" roared Lowndes himself. "All right, take +steps to the devil!" + +And a small dark man came flying through the door, which was instantly +banged behind him. Harry caught him in his arms, and then handed him +his hat, which was rolling along the stone landing. The poor man +thanked him in an agitated voice, and was tottering down the stairs, +when he turned, and with sudden fury shook his umbrella at the shut +door. + +"The dirty scamp!" he cried. "The bankrupt blackguard!" + +Harry never forgot the words, nor the working, whiskered face of the +man who uttered them. He stood where he was until the trembling +footfalls came up to him no more. Then he knocked at the door. Lowndes +himself flung it open, and the frown of a bully changed like lightning +to the most benevolent and genial smile. + +"You!" he cried. "Come in, Ringrose--come in; I'm delighted to see +you." + +"Yes, it's me," said Harry, letting drop the hearty hand which he felt +to be a savage fist unclenched to greet him. "Who did you think it +was?" + +"Why, the man you must have met upon the stairs! A little rat of a +creditor I've chucked out this time, but will throw over the banisters +if he dares to show his nose up here again." + +Harry was forcibly reminded of the butcher at Richmond. + +"So this is the other way of treating them?" said he. + +"This is the other way. Ha! ha! I recollect what you mean. Well, I have +some sympathy with a small tradesman whom the fortune of war has kept +out of his money for weeks and months; not a particle for a little Jew +who has the insolence to come up here and browbeat and threaten me in +my own office for a few paltry pounds! If he had written me a civil +note, reminding me of the debt, which was really so small that I'd +forgotten all about it, he should have had his money in time. Now he +may whistle for it till he's black in the face!" + +Lowndes's indignation was so much more impressive than that of the +little dark man on the stairs, that Harry's sympathies changed sides +without his knowledge. He merely felt his heart warm to Lowndes as the +latter took him by the arm and led him through the outer office (in +which an undersized urchin was mastheaded on an abnormally high stool) +into an inner one, where a red-nosed man sat at the far side of a large +double desk. + +"My friend Mr. Backhouse," said Lowndes, introducing the red-nosed man. +"We're not partners; not even in the same line of business; but we +share the office between us, and the clerks, too--don't we, Bacchus?" + +The red-nosed man grinned at his blotting-pad, and Harry perceived that +the "clerks" consisted of the small child in the outer office. + +"I noticed your name down below in the passage," said Harry to Mr. +Backhouse, "but I couldn't see yours, Mr. Lowndes. I nearly went away +again." + +"Ah! it's in Backhouse's name we have the office; it suits my hand to +keep mine out of it. I'm playing a deep game, Ringrose--one of the +deepest that ever was played in the City of London. I stand to win a +million of money!" + +Lowndes had assumed an air of suitable subtlety and mystery; his eyes +were half-closed behind their gold-rimmed lenses, and he nodded his +head slowly and impressively as he stood with his back to the +fireplace. Harry noticed that he still wore the shabby frock-coat, and +that his trousers were as baggy as ever at the knees. He could not help +asking how the deep game was progressing. + +"Slowly, Ringrose, slowly, but as surely as the stride of time itself. +My noble Earl is up in the Highlands with his yacht. Insisted on +looking into the thing with his own eyes. That's what's keeping us all, +but I expect him back in another week, and then, Ringrose, you may +throw up your hat; for I have not the slightest shadow of a doubt as to +the result of the old chap's investigations." + +Here the clock struck four, and the red-nosed man, who had also a stiff +leg, put on his hat, and stumped out of the office. + +"Now we can talk," said Lowndes, shutting the door, giving Harry a +chair, and sitting down himself. "He'll be gone ten minutes. It's his +whisky-time; he has a Scotch whisky every hour as regularly as the +clock strikes. Wonderful man, Bacchus, for I never saw him a penn'orth +the worse. Some day he'll go pop. But never mind him, Ringrose, and +never mind the Company; tell us how the world's been using you, my boy; +that's more to the point." + +So Harry told him about the accepted verses, and Gordon Lowndes not +only promised to tell his daughter, but was himself most emphatic in +encouraging Harry to go on as he had begun. It might be his true +vocation after all. If he wrote a book and made a hit it would be a +better thing even than the Secretaryship of the H.C.S. & T.S.A. The +delay there was particularly hard lines on Harry. Lowndes only hoped he +was letting no chances slip meanwhile. + +"It is always conceivable," said he, "that my aristocratic directors +may each have a loafing younger son whom they may want to shove into +the billet. You may depend upon me, Ringrose, to resist such jobbery +tooth-and-nail; but, if I were you, I wouldn't refuse the substance for +the shadow; you could always chuck it up, you know, and join us just +the same." + +"Then you won't be offended," said Harry, greatly relieved, "if I tell +you that I have had one or two other irons in the fire?" + +"Offended, my boy? I should think you a duffer if you had not." + +In another minute Harry had made a clean breast of his other journeys +to the City, and was recounting the latest of those miserable +experiences when Lowndes cut him short. + +"What!" cried he, "your father paid for the fellow's stamps, and he +refused to pay for yours?" + +"We never got so far as that," said Harry bitterly. "He wanted a +premium with me, and that settled it. He said three hundred guineas was +the usual thing, but in consideration of certain obligations he had +once been under to my father (he wasn't such a fool as to go into +particulars), he would take me for a hundred and fifty. And he made a +tremendous favour of that. He expected me to go down on my knees with +gratitude, I daresay, but I just told him that a hundred and fifty was +as far beyond me as three hundred, and said good afternoon and came +away. Mind you, I don't blame him. Why should I expect so much for so +little? He's no worse than any of the rest; they're all the same, and I +don't blame any of them. Who am I that I should go asking favours of +any one of them? My God, I've asked my last!" + +"You're your father's son, that's who you are," said Gordon Lowndes. +"What your father did for this skunk of a solicitor, he should be the +first man to do for you. What's his name, by the way?" + +"Phipps." + +"Not Wintour Phipps?" + +Harry nodded; and his nod turned up every light in the other's +expressive face. Gordon Lowndes seized his hat and was on his legs in +an instant, as radiant and as eager as when he set out to chasten and +correct Harry's tailors. Such little punitive crusades were in fact the +salt and pepper of his existence. + +"My boy," he cried, "I've known Wintour Phipps for years. I know enough +to strike Wintour Phipps off the rolls to-morrow. I guess he'll do +anything for me, will Wintour Phipps! So you sit just as tight as wax +till I come back. I shan't be long." And he was gone before Harry +grasped his meaning sufficiently to interfere. For the young fellow was +apt to be slow-witted when taken by surprise: and though he ran +headlong down the stairs a minute later, he was only in time to see +Lowndes dive into a hansom on the other side of the crowded street, and +be driven away. + +He could do nothing now. He was annoyed with Lowndes, and yet the man +meant well--by Harry, at all events Others might take him as they found +him, and call him a scamp if they chose. Very possibly he was one; +indeed, on his own showing, in his own stories, he was nothing else. +But he had a kind heart, and Harry's needs and rebuffs inclined him to +rate a sympathetic rogue far higher in the moral scale than a callous +paragon. Whatever else might be said of Lowndes, there was no end to +the trouble he would take for another. Even when he insisted on doing +what the person most concerned would have had him leave undone (as in +this instance), it was impossible not to feel grateful to him for doing +anything at all. His unselfish enthusiasm in other people's causes was +beyond all praise. He might not be a good man, but that was a virtue +which many a good man had not. + +Still Harry was annoyed. What Gordon Lowndes had gone to say to Wintour +Phipps he could only conjecture; but the object was plainly +intercessory, and Harry hated the thought of such intercession on his +behalf. There was nothing for it, however, but to climb upstairs again +(he had done so), and patiently to await the return of Lowndes. So the +afternoon passed. Mr. Backhouse stumped in, took his hat off, wrote +letters, reached his hat, and stumped out again. But still no Lowndes. + +"Good-night," said Harry to the retreating Bacchus. + +"Oh, I'm not going--I shall be back directly," replied that methodical +man. "I have a little business down below." And he was back in ten +minutes, sucking his moustache, and followed almost immediately by +Gordon Lowndes, who stalked into the room with an air which Harry had +not before seen him affect. His triumph was self-evident, but it was +beautifully suppressed. He put down his hat with exasperating +deliberation, and then stood beaming at Harry through his glasses. + +"Well?" said Harry. + +"It's all right," said Lowndes, very quietly, as of a foregone +conclusion: "you may start work to-morrow, Ringrose. Our friend Phipps +will be only too glad to have you. He will pay for the stamps for your +articles, and, so far from charging you a premium, he will give you a +small salary from the beginning. It won't be much, but then articled +clerks as a rule get nothing. Our friend Phipps is going to make an +exception in your case--and just you let me know when he treats you +again as he did this afternoon. He never will! You'll find him tame +enough now. You're to go to him again to-morrow morning; and you see if +he don't receive you with open arms!" + +"But why?" cried Harry. "What have you said?" + +"What have I said? Well, I reminded him of a trifling incident which +there was no need to remind him of at all, for the mere thought of it +turned him pale the moment he saw me. So I took the liberty of showing +him what might still happen if he didn't do exactly what I wanted about +you. My boy, the thing was settled in two minutes. A rising young +fellow like Wintour Phipps is not the man to be struck off the rolls if +he knows it! But I wasn't coming away without having the whole thing +down in black and white, and here it is." + +From his inner pocket he took out a long blue envelope and slapped it +down on the desk. + +"May I see?" said Harry in a throbbing voice. + +"Certainly; it's your business now, not mine." + +Harry ran his eye over the brief document. Then he looked up. + +"It's my business now--not yours?" + +"To be sure." + +"Then I'm very much obliged to you, Mr. Lowndes, but here's an end of +it." + +He tore the paper twice across, and carefully dropped it into the +waste-paper basket. Then he looked up again. And he had never seen +Lowndes really pale until that moment, nor really red until the next. +Yet the storm passed over after all. + +"Well--upon--my--soul!" said Gordon Lowndes, very slowly, but with more +humour and less wrath in each successive word. "And you're the man who +wanted a billet!" + +"I want one still, but not on such terms. I'd rather starve." + +"There's no accounting for taste." + +"But I'm very sorry, I am indeed, that you should have troubled +yourself to no purpose," continued Harry, holding out his hand with +genuine emotion. "It was awfully good of you, and I shall never forget +it." + +"Nonsense--nonsense!" said Lowndes sharply. "Don't name it, my good +fellow. We all look at these things differently--don't we, Bacchus? You +wouldn't have had any scruples, would you? No more would I, my boy, I +tell you frankly. But don't name it again. It was no trouble at all, +and, even if it had been, there's nothing I wouldn't do for any of you, +Ringrose, and now you know it. Hurt my feelings? Not a bit of it, my +dear boy, I'm only frightened I hurt yours. Good night, good night, and +my love to the old lady. Cut away home and tell her I've no more +principles than Bacchus has brains!" + +But Harry thought the matter over in the Underground; and it was many a +day before he mentioned it at the flat. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE CHAMPION OF THE GODS. + + +Harry had gathered that another week would decide the fate of the +H.C.S. & T.S.A., Ltd., and he could not help feeling anxious as that +week drew to its close. Not that he himself had gained much confidence +in the mighty scheme in question, for he found it more and more +impossible to believe very deeply in Gordon Lowndes or any of his +works. Yet he knew now that Lowndes would help him if he could, by fair +means or by foul, and he could say the same of no other man. Lowndes +was not merely his friend, but his only friend in London, and you +cannot afford to be hypercritical of an only friend. He might be +unscrupulous, he might be unreliable, but he stood by himself for +staunchness and the will to help. He might be a straw for sinking +hopes, but there was no spar in sight. + +So Harry searched the papers at the Public Library, not only for likely +advertisements (which he would answer to the tune of several stamps a +day), but also for the announcement of the return from Scotland of the +Earl of Banff, K.G. When that announcement appeared, and two or three +days slipped by without a line from Lowndes, though the week was more +than up, then, and not until then, did Harry Ringrose abandon his last +hope of getting anything to do in London. His one friend there had +failed him, and was very likely himself in prison for debt. He had, it +is true, an infinitely better friend at Guildford, whom he was on the +eve of visiting, and who might help him to some junior mastership, but +this was the most that he could hope for now. Such a post would in all +probability separate him from his mother, but even that would be better +than living upon her as he was now doing. And in London he seemed to +stand no chance at all. + +To this melancholy conclusion had Harry come on the day before he was +to go to Guildford, when the electric bell began ringing as though it +was never going to stop, and there stood Lowndes himself at ten o'clock +in the morning. Harry instantly demanded to be told the worst or the +best. The other held up his finger and shook his head. His face seemed +wilfully inscrutable, but it was also full of humour and encouragement. + +"The fact is, Ringrose," said Lowndes, "I have heard so much of that +blessed Company every day for so many months, that I mean to give +myself one day without thinking or speaking about it at all. Come to me +to-morrow and you shall know everything. Meanwhile you and your mother +must dine with me this evening to celebrate the occasion. Let us say +the Grand Hotel and seven o'clock. Then we can all go to some theatre +afterwards." + +Harry ran to tell his mother he felt certain the Company was coming out +at last, and to repeat this invitation word for word; but he had great +difficulty in getting her to accept it. How could she go out again? She +might be seen; it would look so bad; and she did not want to enjoy +herself. Then, said Harry, neither did he; and so gained his point by +rather doubtful means. Lowndes, who was on his way to the City, and +would not come in, whispered to Harry that a little outing would do his +mother all the good in the world; then his eyes fell, and he stood +quizzically contemplating the shiny suit which he still seemed to +prefer to all the new ones he had ordered from Harry's tailors. + +"I think, Ringrose," said he, "that you and I had better dress. I keep +some war-paint in the City, so it will be no trouble to either of us. +Tell your mother not to bother, however, as my daughter will not be in +evening dress. I forgot to mention, by the way, that she is coming in +to pay her belated respects to Mrs. Ringrose this afternoon, and I want +you to be so good as to bring her along with you to the Grand Hotel. +Seven o'clock, recollect, and you and I will dress." + +With that he ran down the stone stairs, and the swing doors closed +behind him with a thud while Harry Ringrose still loitered on the +landing outside the flat. Delighted as he was at the unwonted prospect +of a little gaiety, and more than thankful for all that it implied, +those emotions were nothing to the sudden satisfaction with which he +found himself looking forward to seeing Miss Lowndes again and at the +flat. It is true that the keener pleasure was also the less perfect. It +was mingled with a personal anxiety which it was annoying to feel, but +which Harry could not shake off. He was unreasonably anxious that his +mother should like Miss Lowndes, and that Miss Lowndes should like his +mother. And yet he told himself it was a natural feeling enough; he +recalled its counterpart in old days when he had taken some +schoolfellow home for the holidays. + +As for Mrs. Ringrose, she was not only pleased to hear the girl was +coming, but regarded that unprecedented fact as a happier augury than +any other circumstance. + +"I really think you must be right," said she, "and that the ship he has +always talked about is coming in at last. I am sure I hope it is true, +for I know of nobody who would make a better millionaire than Mr. +Lowndes. He is generous with his money when it seems that he has less +than I should have believed possible, so what will he be when he is +really rich! But he never would tell me what his great scheme was; and +I am not sure that I altogether care for it from your description, my +boy. I like Mr. Lowndes immensely, but I am not sure that I want to see +you concerned in a pure speculation. However, let us hope for the best, +and let neither of them suppose that we do not believe the best. Yes, +of course, I shall be glad to see the daughter. Go down, my boy, and +tell the porter's wife to come up and speak to me." + +When in the fulness of time Miss Lowndes arrived, the door was opened +by neither Harry nor Mrs. Ringrose, and the flat was brightened by a +few fresh flowers which the former had brought in without exciting his +mother's suspicions. Mrs. Ringrose, indeed, had an inveterate love of +entertaining, which all her troubles had not killed in her, and she +received the visitor in a way that made Harry draw a very long breath. +Palpably and indeed inexplicably nervous as she came in, so genial was +the welcome that the girl recovered herself in a moment, and in another +Harry's anxieties were at an end. Once she had mastered her momentary +embarrassment, it was obvious that Miss Lowndes was in infinitely +better spirits than when he had seen her last at Richmond. She looked +younger; there was a warmer tinge upon her cheek, her eyes were +brighter, her dress less demure. Harry had only to look at her to feel +assured that fortune was smiling after all upon the H.C.S. & T.S.A.; +and he had only to hear the two women talking to know that they would +be friends. + +Miss Lowndes explained why she had never been to call before. She said +frankly that they had been terribly poor, and she herself greatly tied +in consequence. She spoke of the poverty in the perfect tense, with the +freedom and nonchalance with which one can afford to treat what is +passed and over. Nothing could have been more reassuring than her tone, +nothing pleasanter than the way in which she and Mrs. Ringrose took to +one another. Harry was so pleased that he was quite contented to sit by +and listen, and to wait upon Miss Lowndes when the tea came in, and +only put in his word here and there. It was his mother who would speak +about the accepted verses, and when Harry fled to dress he left her +ransacking the escritoire for his notorious outrage on Gray's Elegy. +Nor was this the final mark of favour. When they started for Charing +Cross, it was Mrs. Ringrose who insisted that they should take an +omnibus, and Mrs. Ringrose who presently suggested that the young +people would be cooler outside. It was as though Fanny Lowndes had made +a deeper impression on Harry's mother than on Harry himself. + +Now, there is no more delightful drive than that from Kensington to the +Strand, at the golden end of a summer's afternoon and on the top of a +Hammersmith omnibus. If you are so fortunate as to get a front seat +where nobody can smoke in your face and the view is unimpeded, it is +just possible that your coppers may buy you as much of colour and +beauty and life and interest as Harry Ringrose obtained for his; but +certainly Harry was very young and much addicted to enthusiasm over +small things; and perhaps nobody else is likely to breast the first +green corner of the Gardens with the thrill it gave him, or to covet a +certain small house in Kensington Gore as he coveted it, or to see with +his eyes through the railings and the thick leaves of the Park, or to +read as much romance upon the crowded flagstones of Piccadilly. Already +he knew and loved every furlong of the route; but Fanny Lowndes was the +first companion who had been with him over the ground; and afterwards, +when he came to know every yard, every yard was associated with her. +The beginning of the Gardens henceforth reminded Harry of his first +direct question about the Company, and her assurances ever afterwards +accompanied him to the Memorial. That maligned monument he never passed +again without thinking of the argument it had led to, without deploring +his companion's views as to gilt and gay colours, without remembering +sadly that it was the one subject on which they disagreed that happy +summer evening. He found her more sympathetic even than he had been +imagining her since their first meeting. They touched a score of topics +on which their spirits jumped as one: in after days he would recall +them in their order when he came that way alone, and see summer +sunshine through the dripping fogs, and green leaves on the black +branches in the Park. + +Their last words he remembered oftenest, because even the Underground +leads to Trafalgar Square, and it was there that they were spoken. The +shadows of the column lay sharp and black across the Square; that of +the Admiral was being run over by innumerable wheels in the road +beyond, and the low sun flashed in every window of the Grand Hotel. + +"Our future offices!" laughed Harry, pointing to the pile. + +"I don't think I want them to be yours," said Fanny Lowndes. + +"Why not?" + +"I want you to go on with your writing." + +"But you see how little good I am. One thing accepted out of seven +written! I should never make bread and butter at it." + +"You have not done what I told you to do at Richmond. You should try +prose, and draw on your own experiences." + +"Would you be my critic?" + +"If I had the qualifications." + +"Well, will you read me and say what you think?" + +"With all my heart." + +"Then I'll set to work as soon as ever I get back from Guildford. You +would put pluck into a mouse, Miss Lowndes, and I'll try to deserve the +interest you take in me." + +The omnibus stopped, and their eyes met with a mutual regret as they +rose. Harry could not have believed that a change of fortune would so +change a face; that of Miss Lowndes was always lighted by intelligence +and kindness, but with the light of happiness added it was almost +beautiful. And yet, the fine eyes fell before Harry's, and fell again +as he handed her to the curb with a cordial clasp, so that the boy was +thoughtful as they crossed to the hotel, thinking of her nervousness at +the flat. + +A few hours later he could understand the daughter of Gordon Lowndes +feeling nervous in accompanying comparative strangers to public places +under the wing of that extraordinary man. + +It was evident from the first that Lowndes was in a highly excitable +state. Harry overheard him telling his daughter she was five minutes +late in a tone which made his young blood boil. But it was the hotel +officials who had the chief benefit of the company-promoter's mood. +Something was wrong with the soup--Harry was talking to Miss Lowndes +and never knew what. All he heard was Lowndes sending for the head +waiter, and the harangue that followed. The head waiter ventured to +answer; he was instantly told to fetch the general manager. A painful +scene seemed inevitable, but the worst was over. In making two +officials miserable, and in greatly embarrassing his daughter and his +guests, it suddenly appeared that Lowndes had quite recovered his own +spirits, and the manager found a boisterous humourist instead of the +swashbuckler for whom he had come prepared. The complaint was waived +with dexterous good-nature; but care seemed to be taken that no +loophole should be given for a second. The remainder of the repast was +unexceptionable (as, indeed, the soup had seemed to Harry), and +Lowndes, who drank a good deal of champagne, continued uproariously +mirthful almost to the end. He told them the name of the piece for +which he had taken stalls. It had only been produced the previous +evening, so none of them could say that they had seen it before. + +"I don't know what it's like," added Lowndes. "I never read criticisms. +Have you seen anything about it, Ringrose?" + +"Why, yes," said Harry; "I looked in at the library this morning, and I +saw two or three notices. They say it is a good enough play; but there +was a bit of a row last night. The papers are full of it. In fact +that's how I came to read the criticisms." + +"A row in the theatre?" said Lowndes. "What about?" + +"Fees," said Harry. "You know there are no fees at the Lyceum and the +Savoy, and three or four more of the best theatres, so they want to +abolish them there also." + +"Who do?" + +"The public." + +"But it's a question for the management entirely. The public have +nothing to do with it." + +"I don't know about that," argued Harry. "The public pay, and they +think they shouldn't." + +"Why?" snapped Lowndes; and it became disagreeably apparent that his +lust for combat had revived. + +"Well, they think they pay quite enough for their places without any +extras afterwards, such as a fee for programmes. They say you might as +well be charged for the bill-of-fare when you dine at a restaurant. But +their great point seems to be that if half-a-dozen good theatres can do +without fees all good theatres can. They call them an imposition." + +"Rubbish," snorted Lowndes, in so offensive a manner that Harry could +say no more; he was therefore surprised when, after a little general +conversation in which Lowndes had not joined, the latter leant across +to him with all the twinkling symptoms of his liveliest moments. + +"I presume," said he, "that all the row last night was kicked up by the +pit and gallery?" + +"So I gathered." + +"Ah! What they want is a remonstrance from the stalls. There would be +some sense in that." + +There were no more disagreeables at the hotel, and none with either of +the cabmen outside the theatre. All at once Lowndes seemed to have +grown unnaturally calm and sedate, Harry could not imagine why. But +only too soon he knew. + +They had four stalls in the centre of the third row. Harry sat on the +extreme left of the party, with Fanny Lowndes on his right, to whom he +was talking as he tucked his twelve-shilling "topper" as carefully as +possible under the seat, when his companion suddenly looked round and +up with a startled expression. Harry followed her example, and there +was Gordon Lowndes standing up in his place and laughing in the +reddening face of the pretty white-capped attendant. In his hand were +four programmes. + +"Certainly not," he was saying. "The system of fees, in a theatre like +this, is an outrage on the audience, and I don't intend to submit to +it." + +"I can't help the system, sir." + +"I know you can't, my good girl. I don't blame you. Go about your +business." + +"But I must fetch the manager." + +"Oh, fetch the police if you like. Not a penny-piece do I pay." + +And Gordon Lowndes stood erect in his place, fanning himself with the +unpaid-for programmes, and beaming upon all the house. Already all eyes +were upon him; it was amusing to note with what different glances. The +stalls took care to look suitably contumelious, and the dress-circle +were in proper sympathy with the stalls. But the front row of the pit +were leaning across the barrier, and the gallery was a fringe of +horizontal faces and hats. + +"We're behind you," said a deep voice in the pit. + +"Good old four-eyes!" piped another from aloft. + +The gods had recognised their champion: he gave them a magnificent wave +of the programmes, and stood there with swelling shirt-front, every +inch the demagogue. + +"Now, sir, now!" + +The manager was a smart-looking man with a pointed beard, and a +crush-hat on the back of his head. He spoke even more sharply than was +necessary. + +"Now, sir, to you," replied Lowndes suavely, and with an admirable +inclination of his head. + +"Well, what's the matter? Why won't you pay?" + +"I never encourage fees," replied Lowndes, shaking his twinkling face +in the most fatherly fashion. He articulated his words with the utmost +deliberation, however, and there was a yell of approval from the gods +above. A ripple of amusement was also going round the house; for Mrs. +Ringrose was holding up half-a-crown and making treacherous signs to +the manager, which, however, he would not see. It seemed he was a +fighting man himself, and his eyes were locked in a tussle with +Lowndes's spectacles. + +"You must leave the theatre, that's all." + +"Nonsense," retorted Lowndes, with his indulgent smile. + +"We shall see about that. May I trouble you, ladies and gentlemen, to +leave your places for one moment?" + +Lowndes's incomparable guffaw resounded through the auditorium. It was +receiving a hearty echo in pit and gallery, when he held up his +programmes, and the gods were still. The ladies and gentlemen had kept +their seats. + +"My dear sir, why give yourself away?" said Gordon Lowndes, still +chuckling, to the manager. "You daren't touch me, and you know you +daren't. A pretty figure you'd cut at Bow Street to-morrow morning! Now +kindly listen to me--" and he tapped the programmes authoritatively +with his forefinger. "You know as well as I do that there was trouble +last night in this theatre about this very thing; my dear sir, I can +promise you there'll be trouble every night until you discontinue your +present obsolete and short-sighted policy. How I wish you were a +sensible man! Then you would think twice before attempting to force a +barefaced imposition of this sort down the throats of your audience; an +imposition that every theatre of repute has recognised as such and +thrown overboard long and long ago. You don't force it down _my_ +throat, I can tell you that. You don't bluff or bully _me_. As if we +didn't pay enough for our seats without any such exorbitant extras! +Why, they might as well charge us for the bill-of-fare at a first-class +restaurant. Besides, what a charge! Sixpence for these--sixpence for +this!" And he spun one of his programmes into the pit, and waved +another towards the gallery. + +But that cool quick tongue was no sooner silent than the house was in a +hubbub. Here and there arose a thin, peevish cry of "Turn him out," but +on the whole the sympathy of the house was with Lowndes. The stalls +were no longer visibly ashamed of him; the dress-circle jumped with the +stalls; but the pit clapped its ungloved hands and stamped with its +out-of-door boots, while every species of whistle, cheer and cat-call +came hurtling from the gallery. This went on for some three minutes, +which is a long time thus filled. There was no stopping it. The manager +retreated unheard and impotent. A minute later the curtain went up, +only to give the tumult a new impetus. The hapless actors looked at one +another and at the front of the house. The curtain came down, and the +popular and talented lessee himself stepped in front of it, dressed in +his stage costume. But even him they would not hear. Then arose the +unknown, middle-aged gentleman in the stalls, with the splendid temper +and the gold eye-glasses--and him they would. + +"Come, come, ladies and gentlemen," cried he, "haven't we done enough +for one night? We have all paid our money, are we not to see the piece? +As for that other matter, I think it may safely be left in the hands of +yonder wise man who stands before us." + +And it was--with a result you may remember. Meantime the curtain was up +for good and the play proceeding after a very short interval indeed, +during which Gordon Lowndes bore himself with startling modesty, +sitting quietly in his place and doing nothing but apologise to Mrs. +Ringrose for having caused such a scene on an occasion when she was his +guest. He should have thought only of his guests; but his sense of +public duty, combined with his bitter and inveterate intolerance of +anything in the shape of an imposition, had run away with him, and on +Mrs. Ringrose's account he was humbly sorry for it. That lady forgave +him, however. Through a perfect agony of shame and indignation she had +come to a new and not unnatural pride in her eccentric friend. + +As for Harry, there was no measure to his enthusiasm: the tears had +been in his eyes from sheer excitement. + +"A wonderful man, your father!" he whispered again and again to the +pale girl on his right. + +"He is," she answered, with a smile and a sigh. And the smile was the +sadder of the two. + +Between the acts Harry visited the foyer with Lowndes, who was +complimented by several strangers on his spirited and public-spirited +behaviour. + +"But do you know," said Harry, when they were alone, "from the way you +spoke at dinner I fancied you took quite an opposite view of the whole +question of fees?" + +"So I did," whispered Lowndes, with his tremulous grin, "but I saw my +way to some sport, and that was enough for me. I was spoiling for some +sport to-night, and a bit of bluff from the stalls was obviously what +was wanted. You must excuse my using your arguments, but the fact is I +very seldom set foot inside a theatre, and they were the only ones I'd +ever heard." + +"At dinner you said they were nonsense!" + +The other winked as he lowered his voice. + +"So they were, my dear Ringrose. That was exactly where the sport came +in." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE DAY OF BATTLE. + + +It was the following morning that Harry Ringrose received a first +return for the many letters he had written in answer to advertisements +seen in the Public Library. The advertisement had been for an articled +clerk. The clerk was to be articled on really "exceptional terms" (duly +specified), and a "public-school boy" was "preferred." It was, in fact, +the likeliest advertisement Harry had seen, and its possibilities were +not altogether dissipated by the communication now received:-- + + "DEAR SIR,--We beg to acknowledge your letter of the 19th instant, + and to say that this is an increasing business, and that we require + further assistance in it. You would have an opportunity of + thoroughly learning the whole business under the supervision of Mr. + Shuttleworth himself; would accompany him to the various courts, + and eventually other arrangements might be made. You will notice + that the premium is only fifty guineas, which will be returned in + salary--a very unusual thing. + + "Perhaps you will give me a call at your early convenience, of + which we shall be glad to have notice, as we must take someone at + once. + + "Yours faithfully, + + "WALTER SHUTTLEWORTH & CO." + +Like most of his correspondence, this letter was read by Harry to his +mother, who looked up at him as though his fortune were already made. +She had been in favour of the Law all along, and she was prepared to +break into her capital for the fifty guineas' premium and for the +eighty pounds for stamps. It would decrease their income by a few +pounds, but if Harry were getting a good salary they would be the +gainers by the difference. In any case he must telegraph to these +people without a moment's loss of time--he must see Mr. Shuttleworth +before starting for Guildford that afternoon. His bag should be ready +immediately, and, as he also wanted to see Mr. Lowndes, he could leave +it in Leadenhall Street and pop in for it afterwards on his way to +Waterloo. + +Such was his mother's advice, and Harry took it to the letter. The bag +was his father's dressing-bag, which Mrs. Ringrose said would make a +good appearance at Mr. Innes's. It was heavy with silver-mounted +fittings, but there was just room for Harry's dress suit, which made it +heavier still. Consequently the way from Aldgate to Leadenhall Street +had never seemed so long before, and Harry was thankful when he and the +bag were at last aloft in Lowndes's office. Here he instantly forgot +his wet forehead and his aching arm. He had dropped in upon the +queerest scene. + +Gordon Lowndes was in the inner office. Harry saw him through the open +door, and his first impression was that Lowndes had been up all night. +He was still in evening dress. The very hat and Inverness, in which +Harry had seen the last of him at eleven the night before, completed +his attire at eleven this morning. There was one quaint difference: +instead of a white bow he wore a blue scarf tied in an ordinary knot, +which stultified the whole costume. Harry looked hard. Lowndes was +looking even harder at him, with a kind of what-do-_you_-want glare. +But he was palpably sober; he wore every sign of the man who had slept +heartily and risen in his vigour, and in an instant his features had +relaxed and his hands lay affectionately on Harry's shoulders. + +"Well, Ringrose, my boy, what brought you along so early? And what have +you got there?" + +"It's my bag," said Harry. "I'm going down to Guildford for a day or +two, but I've got to see a man this morning, and I thought I might +leave it here in the meantime. May I?" + +"Surely, Ringrose, surely. Come inside; I've got my daughter here. My +dear, here's Harry Ringrose, and this is his bag. Gad! but it's heavy!" + +Miss Lowndes blushed painfully as she shook hands with Harry. Her other +arm was held behind her back with incriminating care. + +"Now, my dear," said Lowndes, briskly, "since we are bowled out let's +be bowled out. Ringrose is bound to know the truth sooner or later, so +he may as well know it now." And with a rough laugh he snatched from +behind his daughter's back the shiny old clothes in which he had called +at the flat the previous morning. + +Harry thought that the best thing he could do was to join in the laugh. +Next moment his heart smote him, for Miss Lowndes had turned her back +and stood looking at the window: not through it: it was opaque with +grime. + +"Fact is, Ringrose." continued Lowndes, "the noble Earl is trying to +play me false. He won't keep it up, mind you; he's in too deep with me +to dare; but he's trying it on. Yesterday was the day we were to fix +things up for good and all. I wasn't sure of him, Ringrose; he's shown +himself a slippery old cuss too often. However, I had raised a breath +of wind since I saw you last, and I had a fiver left, so I thought we'd +make sure of our little spree. Blue your last fiver--that's my rule. +Never count the odds in the day of battle, and blue your last fiver for +luck! If you don't blue that fiver you may never have another to blue, +and I'm hanged if you deserve one! Well, that was my last fiver we +blued last night. Don't look like that, man--I tell you I blued it for +luck. The luck hasn't come yet, but you may bet your shirt it's on the +way. You'll see the noble Earl trot back to heel when I threaten to +expose him if he doesn't! Why, I've got letters from him that would +make him the laughing-stock of the Lords; yet he leaves me one crying +off in so many words, and has cleared for the Mediterranean in his +yacht. Either he'll come back within a week, Ringrose, and go through +with the Company, or by God he shall pay through the nose for breaking +his word and wasting my time! But I see you looking at my toilet. It is +a bit of an anachronism, I confess." + +"I suppose you have been sitting up all night," said Harry. "I'm not +surprised after what you tell me." + +Lowndes guffawed. + +"You'll never find me doing that!" he cried. "I leave the sitting up to +my creditors! They'll sit up pretty slick before I've done with 'em--so +will the noble Earl. Now let me enlighten you. You remember all those +clothes I ordered from your trustful tailors, and how I told you never +to neglect a good credit? Well, to give you a practical illustration of +the merits of my advice, I've been living on those clothes ever since. +I have so! Yesterday this time the whole boiling were up the spout. I +just got out the dress-suit and this Inverness for one night only, and +changed into them up here. Now I've got to put them in pop again, and +that's why you find me with them on. Do you follow me, Ringrose? Those +good old duds are the only garments I've got in the world--thanks to +the so-called Right Honourable the Earl of Banff." + +Harry could not smile. He was thinking of his tailors, and he shuddered +to remember that Lowndes had also borrowed five pounds in hard cash +from the accommodating firm. Harry had dazzling visions of eventual +trouble and responsibility; then his eyes stole over to the forlorn +figure by the window; and it was quivering in a way that cut him to the +heart. + +"You may like to blue your last fiver," he turned to Lowndes and cried; +"but I wish to heaven you hadn't blued it on us! As for my mother, when +she hears----" + +"Don't tell her, Mr. Ringrose!" cried a breaking voice. "I shall die of +shame if she ever knows." + +Fanny Lowndes had turned about with her fine eyes drowned in tears, her +strong hands clutched together in an agony of entreaty; and just then +Harry felt that he could forgive her father much, but never for the +grief and shame which he first heaped upon the girl, and then forced +her to display. + +"It's a queer thing, Ringrose," observed Lowndes, "that women never can +be got to take a sensible view of these matters. Your mother--my +daughter--they're every one of them alike." + +He swung on his heel with a shrug, and went into the outer office to +meet his friend Backhouse, who here returned from the usual errand. A +trembling hand fell on Harry's arm. + +"Do not think the worst of him!" whispered Fanny. + +"It is only on your account," was his reply. + +"But he is so good to me!" + +"Yet yesterday he let you think that all was well." + +"He wanted to give me a pleasure while he could." + +Harry looked in the brave wet eyes, and his heart gave a sudden bound. + +"How staunch you are!" he murmured. "He is a lucky man who has you at +his back!" + +Then he followed her father into the outer office, saying he must go, +but that he would be back in an hour for his bag. + +He was back in less. + +His interview with Messrs. Walter Shuttleworth (one gentleman) had +proved but little more satisfactory than any of his other interviews. +Still, here was a man who had need of Harry, and that was something. He +was the first. Harry rather took to him. He was a dashing young fellow, +a public-school man; and it was a public-school man such as Harry that +he wanted in his office. At present he appeared to keep but one +juvenile clerk, a size larger than Lowndes's--and he had no partner. +This was the opening which was dimly and dexterously held out to Harry +as an ultimate probability. And for one dazzling moment Harry felt that +here was his chance in life at last. But when he came to ask questions, +the fabric fell to pieces like all the rest, and he knew that he was +sitting in Mr. Shuttleworth's office for the last time as well as for +the first. For, though the premium was to be returned "in salary," it +would only be returned during the last twelvemonth of Harry's articles, +and for four weary years he must work for nothing. He shook his head; +he was bitterly disappointed. He was then told that the proposed +arrangement was an offer in a thousand; but that he knew. He took his +hat, simply saying he could never afford it. But he was asked to think +it over and to write again, for he was just the sort of fellow for the +place; and this he promised to do, because it seemed just the sort of +place for him. + +Mr. Backhouse had stumped into the office as Harry was leaving, and now +Harry met him stumping out. It was this that showed him that he had +been less than an hour away. But Lowndes had found time to array +himself once more in his "good old duds," to put his dress-suit back +into pawn, and to run through Leadenhall Market with Fanny before +packing her back to Richmond. And now he was ready to listen to Harry, +and very anxious to know how he had got on, and with whom, and where, +and what it had all been about. + +Harry told him everything. He was only too glad to do so, since however +Lowndes might misuse his wits and talents in his own affairs, they were +ever at the service of his friends, and it seemed but right that +someone should have the benefit of those capital parts. The boy had +felt differently an hour before, but now he needed advice, and here was +Lowndes as eager as ever to advise. As usual, he saw to the heart of +the matter long ere the whole had been laid before him. Ten to one, he +said, the thing was past praying for now; it depended, however, on how +strong a fancy this lawyer had taken to Ringrose, for he was by no +means the only public-school boy to be had in London. His best policy +now was to write a letter which should heighten that fancy, while it +set forth his own circumstances and needs more explicitly than Harry +appeared to have done in the interview. That would get at the man's +heart, if he had one, and if not there was no further chance. Such a +letter was eventually written at Lowndes's dictation; but Harry never +felt comfortable about it; and it was only the sore necessity of +employment that prevailed upon him to let Lowndes post it as they were +both on their way out to luncheon. + +They lunched at Crosby Hall. Harry took little because he meant to pay. +Lowndes, however, would not hear of that, and Harry had to give way on +the point, little as he liked doing so in the circumstances. They then +left the place arm-in-arm, but in the street Lowndes withdrew his hand +and held it out. + +"I won't drag you out of your way again," said he, "especially as I +have a lot of letters to write this afternoon. Good-day to you, +Ringrose." + +"You forget my bag," said Harry, smiling. + +"What about it?" + +"I left it in your office." + +"In my office? To be sure, so you did. And now I think of it, I've got +something to say to you about your bag." + +Harry wondered what. Evidently it was something he preferred not to say +in the street, for Lowndes strode along with a square jaw and a face +frowning with thought. Backhouse was at the desk. Lowndes put down +sixpence and told him to buy himself an irregular. Backhouse limped +out, shutting the door, and they were alone. Harry could not see his +bag. + +"Ringrose," said Lowndes, "I've stood by you and yours in the day of +battle, and now it's your turn to stand by me and mine. You can't +conceive what a hole we've been in. Not a penny piece in the house down +yonder--not a crust--not a bone. I came in this morning to raise a few +shillings by hook or crook, and I brought in my daughter so as to send +her back with enough to buy the bare necessary. I tried Bacchus, but he +swears he's getting his drinks on tick. I tried the caretaker, but I've +stuck her so often that she wouldn't be stuck again. I knew it was no +use trying you, Ringrose, yet I knew you would want to help me, so I'll +tell you what I've done. I've run in that bag of yours along with my +dress-suit." + +"You didn't pawn it?" + +"Certainly I did." + +"You mean to tell me----" + +"Kindly lower your voice. If you want the office-boy to hear what +you're saying, I don't. I mean to tell you that the situation was +desperate, and your bag has saved it for the time being. I mean to tell +you that I'd pawn the shirt off my back to get you out of half as bad a +hole as I've been in this morning. Come, Ringrose, I thought you were +sportsman enough to stand by the man who has stood by you?" + +Harry's indignation knew no bounds, and yet the plausibility of the +older man told upon him even in his heat. + +"I am ready enough to stand by you," he cried, "but this is a different +thing. I freely acknowledge your kindness to my mother and myself, but +it doesn't give you the right to put my things in pawn, and you must +get them out again at once." + +"My good fellow," said Lowndes, "I fully intend to do so. I have sent +an urgent letter to the noble Earl's solicitors this very morning, +telling them of the straits to which the old villain has reduced me, +and of the steps I intend to take failing a proper and immediate +indemnification. I haven't the least doubt that they will send me a +cheque on account before the day's out, and then I shall instantly send +round for your bag." + +Harry shook off the hand that had been laid upon his arm, and pulled +out his watch. + +"It's twenty to three," said he quietly. "I leave Waterloo by the +five-forty, and my bag leaves with me. Let there be no misunderstanding +about that, Mr. Lowndes. I must have it by five o'clock--not a minute +later." + +"Why must you? Surely they could fix you up for one night? I guarantee +it won't be longer." + +"They dress for dinner down at Guildford," said Harry; "it isn't the +fixing up for the night." + +"Well, why not lose your bag on the way? Nothing more natural in a +young fellow of your age." + +Harry lost his temper instead. + +"Look here, Mr. Lowndes, you have been a good friend to us, as you say. +You were a good friend to us last night. You've been a good friend to +me this very day. But I simply can't conceive how you could go and do a +thing like this; and I must have my bag by five o'clock, or we shall be +friends no longer." + +There was heat enough and fire enough in the young fellow's tone to +bring blood to the cheek of an older man so spoken to. Lowndes looked +delighted; he even clapped his hands. + +"Well said, Ringrose; said like a sportsman!" he cried. "I like to hear +a young chap talk out straight from the chest like that. I think all +the more of you, my son, and you shall have your old bag by five +o'clock if I bust for it. Only look here: don't you be angry with your +grandfather!" + +Harry burst out laughing in his own despite. + +"It's impossible to be angry with you," he said. "Still, I must----" + +"I see you must. So I'll jump into a hansom and I'll raise the fiver to +redeem your bag if I have to drive all over the City of London for it!" + +Harry laughed again, and sat down to wait as Lowndes went clattering +down the stone stair-case. And as he sat there alone he suddenly grew +pale. In his rage with Lowndes he had forgotten Lowndes's daughter, and +now the thought of her turned his heart sick. He found it possible to +forgive the father for an indictable offence. It should have been +comparatively easy to forgive the daughter for receiving in her sore +need the virtual proceeds of that crime. Yet the thought that she had +done so was intolerable to him, and his heart began a sudden tattoo as +a stiff step was heard ascending the stairs. + +"Mr. Backhouse," said Harry, as that worthy reappeared, "I want a plain +answer to a plain question." + +"I shall be delighted to give you one," said Mr. Backhouse, "if it is +in my power, sir." + +"Do you know where my bag is?" + +Mr. Backhouse said nothing. + +"Then I see you do," cried Harry; "and so do I; and that was not my +question at all. Did Miss Lowndes know about it?" + +"No, sir." + +"You are sure?" + +"Certain! She never saw him take it out; he took jolly good care she +shouldn't; and he came back with a yarn as long as your leg to account +for the money." + +Harry's feelings were a revelation to himself; they were the beginning +of the greatest revelation of his life. But he cloaked them carefully +and passed the better part of an hour reading the newspaper and +exchanging an occasional remark with the lessee of the office. And no +later than a quarter to four, which was long before Harry expected him, +Lowndes was back. But he looked baffled, and there was no bag in his +hand. + +"Will either of you fellows lend me five bob for the cab?" he panted. +"I've been all over the City of London." + +Mr. Backhouse shook his head. + +"And I can't," said Harry, "for I have barely enough to take me down to +Guildford and back." + +"Then we must keep him waiting too. Here, Jimmy"--to the +office-child--"you stand by to take a telegram. Now, Ringrose, you're +going to see me play trumps. Old Bacchus has seen 'em before." Indeed, +that specimen's unwholesome face was already wreathed in dissipated +grins. + +Lowndes seized a telegram form, sat down with his hat on the back of +his head, and began writing and talking at the same time. + +"Like you, Ringrose, I have a near relative in the Church. An own +brother, my boy, who cut me off with a text more years ago than I care +to count, and hasn't spoken to me since. He's about as High as that +uncle of yours is Low, but luckily there's one point on which even the +parsons think alike. They funk a family scandal even more than other +folks, and they funk it most when they have episcopal aspirations like +my precious brother. What d'ye think of this for him, boys? 'Wire +solicitors pay me fiver by five o'clock or I shall never see +six.--Gordon Lowndes.' What price that for an ace of trumps? Not many +parsons would care to go into the witness-box and read that out at +their own brother's inquest--eh, Ringrose?" + +Harry only stared. + +"Too many fives," objected Mr. Backhouse, with an air of literary +censorship. "Make it a tenner." + +"Most noble Bacchus! For every reason, a tenner it is." + +"And it's too obscure, that about never seeing six. Six what? I know +what you mean, but trust a parson to miss the point. Your last was much +better--that about the police in the outer office." + +"We can't play the police twice. It's suicide or nothing this time--but +hold on!" He seized another form and scribbled furiously. "How about +this, then? 'Wire solicitors pay me ten pounds immediately or I am a +dead man by 5.15.--Gordon.' That'll give you time to do it, Ringrose, +with a good hansom." + +"Oh, I daresay there's another train," said Harry. "And candidly, Mr. +Lowndes, rather than drive you to this sort of thing, I should prefer +to say I've lost my luggage and be done with it." + +"Not a bit of it, my good fellow. I've got you into this mess, and I'll +get you out again or know the reason why. I assure you, Ringrose, I'm +quite enjoying it. Besides, there'll be a fiver over, thanks to old +Bacchus here. Jimmy, run like sin with this telegram. Don't say you +haven't a bob, Bacchus? Good man, you shall reap your reward when we've +got this boy his blessed bag." + +Lowndes waited until half-past four, talking boisterously the whole +time. Harry had never heard him tell more engaging stories, nor come +out with better phrases. At the half-hour, however, he drove off in his +long-suffering hansom to his brother's solicitors. And by a +quarter-past five he was back, in the same hansom, with the bag on top. + +Harry met him down below. + +"Here you are, my son!" cried Gordon Lowndes, jumping out with his face +all flushed with triumph and twitching with glee. "That reverend +brother of mine has never been known to fail when approached in a +diplomatic manner--no more will your reverend uncle, if you try my tip +on him! No, boy, it shall never happen again: jump in, and you've heaps +of time. Cabby, take this gentleman on to Waterloo main line, and I'll +pay for the lot. Will fifteen bob do you?" + +"Thank'ee, sir, it'll do very well." + +And Harry drove off with his hand aching from a pressure which he had, +indeed, returned; almost forgetting the enormity of the other's offence +in the zest, humour, and promptitude of the amend; and actually +feeling, for the moment, under a fresh obligation to Gordon Lowndes. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +A CHANGE OF LUCK. + + +Quite apart from all that came of it, this visit to Guildford was +something of a psychological experience at the time. The devotion of +Harry Ringrose to his first school had been for years second only to +his love for his old home, and now that the old home was his no longer, +the old school was the place he loved best on earth. He knew it when he +saw the well-remembered building once more in the golden light of that +summer's evening. He knew it when he knelt in the school chapel and +heard the most winning of human voices reading the school prayers. The +chapel was new since Harry's day, but the prayers were not, and they +reminded him of his own worst acts since he had heard them last. Mr. +Innes sang tenor in the hymn, as he had always done, and Harry kept his +ear on the voice he so loved; but the hymn itself was one of his old +favourites, associated for ever with his first school, and it reminded +him too. He looked about him, among the broad white collars, the +innocent pink faces, and the open, singing mouths. He wondered which of +the boys were leaving this term, and if one of them would leave with +better resolutions than he had taken away with him seven years before +... and yet.... He had not been worse than others, but better perhaps +than many; and yet there seemed no measure to his vileness, there +certainly was none to his remorse, as he knelt again and prayed as he +seemed never to have prayed since he was himself a little boy there at +school. Then the organ pealed, and Mr. Innes went down the aisle with +his grave fine face and his swinging stride. Mrs. Innes and Harry went +next; the masters followed in their black gowns; and they all formed +line in the passage outside, and the boys filed past and shook hands +and said good-night on their way up to the dormitories. + +Harry's visit extended over some days, and afterwards he used sometimes +to wish that he had cut it short after the first delightful night. He +was a creature of moods, and only a few minutes of each day were spent +in chapel. It was a novel satisfaction to him to smoke his pipe with +his old schoolmaster, to talk to him as man to man, and he knew too +late that he had talked too much. He did not mean to be bombastic about +his African adventures, but he was anxious that Mr. Innes should +realise how much he had seen. Harry was in fact a little self-conscious +with the man he had worn in his heart so many years, a little +disappointed at being treated as an old boy rather than as a young man, +and more eager to be entertaining than entertained. So when he came to +the end of his own repertoire he related with enthusiasm some of the +exploits of Gordon Lowndes. But the enthusiasm evaporated in the +process, for Mr. Innes did not disguise his disapproval of the type of +man described. And Harry himself saw Lowndes in a different light +henceforth; for this is what it is to be so young and impressionable, +and so keenly alive to the influence of others. + +The best as well as the strongest influence Harry had ever known was +that of Mr. Innes himself. He felt it as much now as ever he had +done--and in old days it had been of Innes that he would think in his +remorse for wrongdoing, and how it would hurt Innes that a boy of his +should fall so far short of his teaching. It never occurred to him then +that his hero was probably a man of the world after all, capable of +human sympathy with human weakness, and even liable to human error on +his own account. Nor did this strike him now--for Harry Ringrose was as +yet too far from being a man of the world himself. The old idolatry was +as strong in him as ever. And the old taint of personal emulation still +took a little from its worth. + +"If only I could be more like you!" he broke out when Mr. Innes had +spoken a kind, strong word or two as Harry was going. "I used to try so +hard--I will again!" + +"What, to get like me?" said Innes with a laugh. "I hope you'll be a +much better man than I am, Harry. But it's time you gave up trying to +be like anybody." + +"How do you mean?" asked Harry, his enthusiasm rather damped. + +"Be yourself, old fellow." + +"But myself is such a poor sort of thing!" + +"Never mind. Try to make yourself strong; but don't think about +yourself. Don't you see the distinction? Only think about doing your +duty and helping others; the less you dwell upon yourself, the easier +that will be. Good-bye, old fellow. Let me know how you get on." + +"Good-bye, sir," said Harry. "You don't know how you help me! You are +sending me away with a new thought altogether. I will do my best. I +will indeed." + +"I know you will," said Mr. Innes. + +So ended the visit. + + * * * * * + +The new thought made its mark on Harry's character, but it was not all +that he brought away with him from Guildford. The visit fired a train +of sufficiently important material results, though the fuse burnt +slowly, and for weeks did not seem to be burning at all. Harry came +away with the match in his pocket, in the shape of a letter of +introduction to a firm of scholastic agents. + +Mr. Innes had by no means encouraged his old boy to try to become a +schoolmaster; he feared that the two years in Africa would tell against +Harry rather than in his favour, and then without a degree there was +absolutely no future. He thought better of Harry's chances in +literature. It was he who had encouraged the boy's very earliest +literary leanings and attempts, and he took the kindest view of the +accepted verses, of which he was shown a copy; but when he heard of the +many failures which had followed that one exceeding small success, and +of all the repulses which Harry had met with in the City, his old +master was silent for some minutes, after which he sat down at his desk +and wrote the introduction there and then. + +"These fellows will get you something if anybody can," he had said; +and, indeed, the gentlemen in question, on whom Harry called on his way +back to Kensington, seemed confident of getting him something without +delay. He had come to them in the very nick of time for next term's +vacancies. They would send him immediately, and from day to day, +particulars of posts for which he could apply; they had the filling of +so many, there was little doubt but that he would obtain what he wanted +before long. Their charge would be simply five per cent. on the first +year's salary, which would probably be fifty pounds, or sixty if they +were lucky. + +Harry went home jubilant. The agents had taken down his name and his +father's name without question or comment. They declined to regard the +years in Africa as a serious disqualification, much less since he had +been a tutor there; and Harry began to think that Mr. Innes had taken +an unnecessarily black view of his chances. He knew better in a few +weeks' time. + +It is true that at first he had a thick letter every day, containing +the promised particulars of several posts. How used he grew to the +clerk's mauve round hand, to the thin sheets of paper damp from the +gelatine that laid each opening before Heaven knew how many +applicants--to the unvarying formula employed! The Reverend So-and-So, +of Dashton, Blankshire, would require in September the services of a +junior master, possessing qualifications thereupon stated with the +salary offered. The vacant posts were in all parts of the country, and +the sanguine Harry pictured himself in almost every county in England +while awaiting his fate in one quarter after another. In few cases were +the qualifications more than he actually possessed, for he was at least +capable of taking the lowest form in a preparatory school, while he +could truthfully describe himself as being "fond of games." But the +agents' clients would have none of him, and as time went on the agents' +envelopes grew thin with single enclosures, and came to hand only once +in a way. + +And yet several head-masters wrote kindly answers to Harry's +application, and two or three seemed on the verge of engaging him. Some +interviewed him at the agents' offices, and one had him down to +luncheon at his school, paying Harry's fare all the way into +Hertfordshire and back. Another only rejected him because Harry was not +a fast round-hand bowler, and a fast round-hand bowler was +essential--not for the school matches, in which the masters took no +part, but for the town, for which they played regularly every Saturday: +the music-master bowled slow left, and fast right was indispensable at +the other end. But the failures that were all but successes were only +the harder to bear, and the bitter fact remained that the lad was no +more wanted in the schoolroom than in the office. It struck him +sometimes as a grim commentary on the education he had himself +received. A thousand or two had been spent upon it, and he had not left +school a dunce. He knew as much, perhaps, as the average boy on going +up to the university from a public school, and of what use was it to +him? It did not enable him to earn his bread. He felt some bitterness +against the system which had taught him to swim only with the life-belt +of influence and money. It had been his fate to be pitched overboard +without one. + +Not that he was idle all this time. In the dreadful dog-days, when none +but the poor were left in London, and the heat in the little flat +became well-nigh insupportable, so that poor Mrs. Ringrose was quite +prostrate from its effects, her son sat in his shirt and trousers and +plied his pen again in sheer desperation. He wrote out the true +incident which he had been advised would make a capital magazine +article if written down just as he told it. So he tried to do so; and +sent the result to _Uncle Tom_. It came back almost by return of post, +with a civil note from the Editor, saying that he could not use the +story as the end was so unsatisfactory. It was unsatisfactory because +the story happened to be true, and the author never thought of meddling +with the facts, though he weighted his work with several immaterial +points which he had forgotten when telling the tale verbally. He now +flew to the opposite extreme, and dashed off a brief romance +unadulterated by a solitary fact or a single instance of original +observation. This was begun with ambitious ideas of a match with some +shilling monthly, but it was only offered to the penny weeklies, and +was burnt unprinted some few months later. + +One day, however, the day on which Harry went down to Hertfordshire at +a pedagogue's expense, and was coming back heavy with the knowledge +that he would not do, the spirit moved him to invest a penny in a comic +paper with a considerable vogue. He needed something to cheer him up, +and for all he knew this sheet might be good or bad enough to make him +smile; it was neither, but it proved to be the best investment he had +ever made. It contained a conspicuous notice to contributors, and a +number of sets of intentionally droll verses on topics of the week. +Before Harry got out at King's Cross he had the rough draft of such a +production on his shirtcuff; he wrote it out and sent it off that +night; and it appeared in the very next issue of that comic pennyworth. + +And this time Harry felt that he had done something that he could do +again; but days passed without a word from the Editor, and it looked +very much as though the one thing he could do would prove to be unpaid +work. At length he determined to find out. The paper's strange name was +_Tommy Tiddler_ ("St. Thomas must be your patron saint," said Mrs. +Ringrose), and its funereal offices were in a court off the Strand. +Harry blundered into the counting-house and asked to see the Editor, at +which an elderly gentleman turned round on a high stool and viewed him +with suspicion. What did he want with the Editor? + +"I had a contribution in the last issue," said Harry, nervously, +"and--and I wanted to know if there would be any payment." + +"But that has nothing to do with the Editor," said the old gentleman. +"That is my business." + +He got down from his stool and produced a file of the paper, in which +the price of every contribution was marked across it, with the writer's +name in red ink. Harry was asked to point out his verses, and with a +thrill he saw that they were priced at half-a-sovereign. In another +minute the coin was in his purse and he was signing the receipt with a +hand that shook. + +"Monday is our day for paying contributors," the old gentleman said. +"In future you must make it convenient to call or apply in writing on +that day." + +In future! + +On his way out he had to pass through the publishing department, where +stacks of the new issue were being carried in warm from the machines. +It was not on sale until the following day, but Harry could not resist +asking to look at a copy, for he had sent in a second set of verses on +the appearance of the first. And there they were! He found them +instantly and could have cried for joy. + +The Inner Circle was never a slower or more stifling route than on that +August afternoon; neither was Harry Ringrose ever happier in his life +than when he alighted before the train stopped at High Street, +Kensington. He had done it two weeks running. He knew that he could go +on doing it. He was earning twenty-six pounds a year, and earning it in +an hour a week! He almost ran along the hot street, and he took the +stairs three at a time. As he fumbled with his latch-key in his +excitement, he heard talking within and had momentary misgivings; but +his lucky day had dawned at last: the visitor was Fanny Lowndes. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +IT NEVER RAINS BUT IT POURS. + + +Not since the incident of the dressing-bag had Harry heard a word of +Lowndes. He had no idea what had become of that erratic financier or of +his daughter, and as to the former he no longer greatly cared. You may +have the knack of carrying others with you, but it is dangerous so to +carry them against their own convictions; a reaction is inevitable, and +Harry had undergone one against Gordon Lowndes. In the warmth of the +moment he had freely forgiven the pawning of his bag, but he found it +harder to confirm that forgiveness on subsequent and cool reflection. +And the visit to Guildford had something to do with this. It had +replaced old standards, it had brightened old ideals; and the influence +of Mr. Innes was directly antagonistic to that of Lowndes. Add the +scholastic disappointments and the literary attempts, and it will be +obvious that in the lad's life there had been little room of late for +the promoter of the H.C.S. & T.S.A. + +But of the promoter's daughter Harry Ringrose had thought often enough. +His mind had flown to her in many a difficulty, and it was only his +revised view of Lowndes which had kept him from going down to Richmond +for her sympathy upon the fate of the manuscript for which she was +responsible. Even this afternoon he had thought of her in the +Underground, side by side with his mother, as the one other person whom +he longed to tell of his success. So that it seemed little short of a +miracle to find these two together. + +Fanny had already been shown the first _Tiddler_ verses, and she now +shared Mrs. Ringrose's joy over the half-sovereign and the news of a +second accepted contribution. It was delightful to Harry to see her +kind face again, to see it happy, and to remember (as he suddenly did) +in what trouble he had seen it last. And now he noticed that the girl +was brightly dressed, with new gloves and a brilliant sunshade, and he +could not but ask after her father and his affairs. + +It appeared that the Highland Crofters' Salmon and Trout Supply +Association, Limited, was still on the tapis, but under another name +and other patronage. The Earl of Banff was no longer connected with the +enterprise, but in his stead Lowndes had secured the co-operation of +one the Hon. Pelham Tankervell, a personage who appeared to be on a +friendly footing with the light and leading of both Houses of +Parliament. This Harry gathered from a sheaf of most interesting +letters which Fanny Lowndes had brought with her at her father's +request. These letters were addressed to Mr. Tankervell by the most +illustrious persons, nearly all of whom gave that gentleman permission +to use their distinguished names as patrons of the Crofter Fisheries, +Limited, which was the old Company's new name. It was difficult to +glance over the letters without imbibing some degree of confidence, and +it was plain to Harry that Miss Lowndes herself had more than of old. +She told him that the Earl's solicitors had compounded with her father +for a substantial sum, and she pointed to her gorgeous parasol as one +of the cab-load of purchases with which her father had driven home +after cashing the lawyers' cheque. It was plain that the little house +on Richmond Hill was in much better case than heretofore; indeed, Fanny +Lowndes told Harry as much, though she did add that she no more wished +to see him Secretary of the Crofter Fisheries than of the H.C.S. & +T.S.A. + +"But you believe in it now?" he could not help saying. + +"More than I did--decidedly." + +"Then why should you dislike to see me in it?" + +"You are fit for something better; and--and I think that after this Mr. +Tankervell will expect to be made Secretary." + +Harry was neither surprised nor vexed to hear it; but he was thinking +less of this last sentence than of the last but one. + +"You call writing for the _Tiddler_ something better?" + +"For you--I do. It is a beginning, at any rate." + +Until her train went he was telling her of his prose flights and +failures, and she was bemoaning her share in one of them. The High +Street seemed a lonely place as he walked home to the flat. Yet the day +was still the happiest that he had spent in London. + +The third week he sent a couple of offerings to _Tommy Tiddler_, but +only one of them got in. He tried them with two again. Meanwhile there +was an unexpected development in an almost forgotten quarter. + +After nearly a month's interval, there came one more thin envelope from +the scholastic agents; and this time it was a Mrs. Bickersteth, of the +Hollies, Teddington, who required a resident master immediately, to +teach very little boys. Very little also was the salary offered. It was +thirty pounds; and Harry was for tossing the letter into the first fire +they had sat over in the flat, when his mother looked up from the socks +which she was knitting for him, and took an unexpected line. + +"I wish you to apply for it," said she. + +"What, leave you for thirty pounds, when I can make twenty-six at +home?" + +"That will make fifty-six; for you would be sure to have some time to +yourself, and you say the verses only take you an hour on the average. +At any rate I wish you to apply, my boy. I will tell you why if they +take you." + +"Well, they won't; so here goes--to please you." + +He sat down and dashed off an answer there and then, but with none of +the care which he had formerly expended on such compositions. And +instead of the old unrest until he knew his fate, he forthwith thought +no more about the matter. So the telegram took him all aback next +morning. He was to meet Mrs. Bickersteth at three o'clock at the +agents'. By four he had the offer of the vacant mastership in her +school. + +It was the irony of Harry's fate that a month ago he would have jumped +at the chance and flown home on the wings of ecstasy; now he asked for +grace to consult his mother, but promised to wire his decision that +evening, and went home very sorry that he had applied. + +Mrs. Ringrose sighed to see his troubled face. + +"Do you mean to tell me it has come to nothing?" + +"No; the billet's mine if I want it." + +"And you actually hesitated?" + +"Yes, mother, because I do not want it. That's the fact of the matter." + +Mrs. Ringrose sat silent and looked displeased. + +"Is the woman not nice?" she asked presently. + +"She seemed all right; rather distinguished in her way; but the hours +are atrocious, and I made that my excuse for thinking twice about +accepting such a salary. I have promised to send a telegram this +evening. But, oh, mother, I don't want to leave you; not to go to a +dame's school and thirty pounds a year!" + +"You would get your board as well." + +"But you would be all alone." + +"I could go away for a little. Your Uncle Spencer has asked me to go to +the seaside next month with your aunt and the girls. I--I think it +would do me good." + +"You could leave me in charge, and I would write verses all the time." + +"It would be much cheaper to shut up the flat. Then we should be really +saving. And--Harry--it is necessary!" + +Then the truth came out, and with it the real reason why Mrs. Ringrose +wished him to accept the cheap mastership at Teddington. She was trying +to keep house upon a hundred and fifty a year; so far she was failing +terribly. The rent of the flat was sixty-five; that left eighty-five +pounds a year, or but little over thirty shillings a week for all +expenses. It was true they kept no servant, but the porter's wife +charged five shillings a week, and when the washing was paid there was +seldom more than a pound over, even when the stockings and the +handkerchiefs were done at home. A pound a week to feed and clothe the +two of them! It sounded ample--the tailors had not even sent in their +bill yet--and yet somehow it was lamentably insufficient. Mrs. Ringrose +had been a rich woman all her life until now; that was the whole secret +of the matter. Even Harry, ready as he still was for an extravagance, +was in everyday minutiæ more practical than his dear mother. She never +called in the porter without giving him a shilling. She seldom paid for +anything at the door without slipping an additional trifle into the +recipient's hand. And once when some Highlanders played their bagpipes +and danced their sword-dances in the back street below, she flung a +florin through the window because she had no smaller silver, and to +give coppers she was ashamed. + +Harry was the last to take exception to traits which he had himself +inherited, but he had long foreseen that disaster must come unless he +could earn something to add to their income, and so balance the bread +he ate and the tea he swallowed. And now disaster had come, insomuch +that the next quarter's money was condemned, and Harry's duty was +clear. Yet still he temporised. + +"A month ago it would have been bad enough," said he; "but surely we +might hang together now that I have got a start. Ten bob a week! You +shall see me creep up to a pound and then to two!" + +"You must first make sure of the ten bob," said Mrs. Ringrose, who had +a quaint way of echoing her son's slang, and whose sanguine temperament +had been somewhat damped by late experience. + +"I am sure of it. Are not three weeks running good enough?" + +"But you say they only take you an hour, and that you could spare at +the school, even though you had to do it in your own bedroom. Besides, +it need only be for one term if you didn't like it; to economise till +Christmas, that is all I ask." + +Harry knew what he ought to say. He was troubled and vexed at his own +perverseness. Yet all his instincts told him that he was finding a +footing at last--humble enough, Heaven knew!--on the ladder to which he +felt most drawn. And a man does not go against his instincts in a +moment. + +"Come, my boy," urged Mrs. Ringrose. "Send the telegram and be done +with it." + +"Wait!" cried Harry, as the bell rang. "There's the post. It may be +that my story is accepted." + +He meant the story which never was accepted, but whose fitness for the +flames he had yet to realise. The letter, however, did not refer to +either of his prose attempts. It was from the Editor of _Tommy +Tiddler_, enclosing both sets of verses which Harry had sent him that +week, and very civilly stating that they were not quite up to his +contributor's "usual mark." + +Harry went straight out of the flat and was gone some minutes. + +"I've sent that telegram," said he when he came back. "I should have +told you that the term begins this next Saturday, and I've got to be +there on Friday evening." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +A DAME'S SCHOOL. + + +The Hollies, Teddington, was situated in a quiet road off the main +street. A wooden gate, varnished and grained, displayed a brass plate +with Mrs. Bickersteth's name engraved upon it, while that of the house +was lettered in black on one of the stucco gate-posts, and perhaps +justified by the few evergreens which grew within. A low wall was +topped by a sort of balustrade, likewise stuccoed, and behind this wall +stood half-a-dozen cropped and yellowing limes. + +The house itself was hardly what Harry had expected so far from town. +He seemed to have passed it daily for the last four months, for it was +the plain, tall, semi-detached, "desirable" and even "commodious +residence," which abounds both in Kensington and Camden Town, in the +groves of St. John's Wood and on the heights of Notting Hill. A flight +of exceedingly clean steps led up to a ponderous front door with a +mighty knocker; on the right were two long windows which evidently +stretched to the floor, for a wire screen protected the lower part of +each; and above these screens, late on the Friday afternoon, some eight +or nine rather dismal little faces were pressed to watch the arrival of +the new master. + +The cabman carried the luggage up the steps and was duly overpaid. The +servant shut the great door with a bang--it was a door that would not +shut without one--and Harry Ringrose had gone to school again at +one-and-twenty. + +He was shown into a very nice drawing-room--the kind of drawing-room to +reassure an anxious parent--and here for a minute he was alone. Through +a thin wall came a youthful buzz, and Harry distinctly heard, "I wonder +if he's strict?" He also heard an irritable, weak, feminine voice +exclaiming: "Be silent--be silent--or you shall all have fifty lines!" +Then the door opened, and he was shaking hands with Mrs. Bickersteth. + +The lady was short, stout, and rather more than elderly, yet with a +fresh-coloured face as free from wrinkles as it was full of character, +and yellow hair which age seemed powerless to bleach. Her manner was +not without kindness or distinction, but neither quality was quite so +noticeable as when Harry had seen her at the agents' in her mantle and +bonnet. Indeed the fresh cheeks had a heightened tinge, and the light +eyes a brightness, which Harry Ringrose was destined to know better as +the visible signs of Mrs. Bickersteth's displeasure. + +"We are a little late," began the schoolmistress (who had this way of +speaking to the boys, and who early discovered a propensity to treat +Harry as one of them): "we are a little later than I expected, Mr. +Ringrose. Now that we have come, however, we will say no more about +it." + +And the lady gave a perfunctory little laugh, meant to sound indulgent, +but Harry had a true ear for such things, and he made his apologies a +little stiffly. If Mrs. Bickersteth had named an hour he would have +made it his business to be there by that hour; as she had but said the +afternoon, he had presumed that five o'clock would be time enough. Mrs. +Bickersteth replied that she called five o'clock the evening, with a +playfully magnanimous smile which convinced Harry even less than her +laugh: he had a presentiment of the temper which it masked. + +"But pray let us say no more about it," cried the lady once more. "I +only thought that it would be a good opportunity for you to get to know +the little men. I am glad to say that all the boarders have arrived; +they are now, as I daresay you hear, in the next room with the other +governess. Dear me, what am I saying! You see, Mr. Ringrose, I have +always had two governesses in the house hitherto. Mr. Scrafton, who +comes every morning (except Saturday) to teach the elder boys, has been +our only regular master for many years, though a drill-sergeant also +comes twice a week from the barracks at Hampton Court. But in taking a +master into my house, in place of one of the governesses, I am trying +an experiment which I feel sure we will do our best to justify." + +Harry replied as suitably as possible, but made more than one mental +note. His engagement had not been termed an experiment at their +previous interview. Neither had he heard the name of Mr. Scrafton until +this moment. + +"I hear the servant taking your portmanteau upstairs," continued Mrs. +Bickersteth, "and presently I shall show you your room, as I am going +to ask you to oblige me by always wearing slippers in the house. The +day-boys change their boots the moment they arrive. Before we go +upstairs, however, there is one matter about which I should like to +speak. We have a delicate little fellow here whose name is Woodman, and +whose parents--very superior, rich people--live down in Devonshire, and +trust the little man entirely to my care. He is really much better here +than he is at home; still he has to have a fire in his room throughout +the winter, and consequently he cannot sleep with the other boys. +Hitherto one of the governesses has slept in his room, but now I am +going to take the opportunity of putting you there, as I am sorry to +say he is a boy who requires firmness as well as care. If you will +accompany me upstairs I will now show you the room." + +It was at the end of a passage at the top of the house, and a very nice +room Harry thought it. The beds were in opposite corners, a screen +round the smaller one, and the space between at present taken up with +Harry's portmanteau and the boy's boxes, which were already partially +unpacked. A fire burnt in the grate; a number of texts were tacked to +the walls. Harry was still looking about him when Mrs. Bickersteth made +a dive into one of the little boy's open boxes and came up with a +gaily-bound volume in each hand. + +"More story-books!" cried she. "I have a good mind to confiscate them. +I do not approve of the number of books his parents encourage him to +read. If you ever catch him reading up here, Mr. Ringrose, I must ask +you to report the matter instantly to me, as I regret to say that he +has given trouble of that kind before." + +Harry bowed obedience. + +"Little Woodman," continued the schoolmistress, "though sharp enough +when he likes, is, I am sorry to say, one of our most indolent boys. He +would read all day if we would let him. However, he is going to Mr. +Scrafton this term, so he will have to exert himself at last! And now, +if you like your room, Mr. Ringrose, I will leave you to put on your +slippers, and will take you into the schoolroom when you come +downstairs." + +The schoolroom was long and bare, but unconventional in that a long +dining-table did away with desks, and the boys appeared to be shaking +off their depression when Harry and his employer entered five minutes +later. They were making a noise through which the same angry but +ineffectual voice could be heard threatening a hundred lines all round +as the door was thrown open. The noise ceased that moment. The +governess rose in an apologetic manner; while all the boys wore guilty +faces, but one who was buried in a book, sitting hunched up on the +floor. Like most irascible persons, however, the schoolmistress had her +moments of conspicuous good-temper, and this was one. + +"These are the little men," said she. "Children, this is your new +master. Miss Maudsley--Mr. Ringrose." + +And Harry found himself bowing to the lady with the voice, a lady of +any age, but no outward individuality; even as he did so, however, Mrs. +Bickersteth beckoned to the governess; and in another moment Harry was +alone with the boys. + +The new master had never felt quite so shy or so self-conscious as he +did during the next few minutes; it was ten times worse than going to +school as a new boy. The fellows stood about him, staring frankly, and +one in the background whispered something to another, who told him to +shut up in a loud voice. Harry seated himself on the edge of the table, +swung a leg, stuck his hands in his pockets (where they twitched) and +asked the other boys their names. + +"James Wren," said the biggest, who looked twelve or thirteen, and was +thickly freckled. + +"Ernest Wren," said a smaller boy with more freckles. + +"Robertson." + +"Murray." + +"Gifford." + +"Simes." + +"Perkins." + +"Stanley." + +"And that fellow on the floor?" + +"Woodman," said James Wren. "I say, Woodman, don't you hear? Can't you +get up when you're spoken to?" + +Woodman shut his book, keeping, however, a finger in the place, and got +up awkwardly. He was one of the smallest of the boys, but he wore long +trousers, and beneath them irons which jingled as he came forward with +a shambling waddle. He had a queer little face, dark eyes and the +lightest of hair; and he blushed a little as, alone among the boys, but +clearly unconscious of the fact, he proceeded to shake hands with the +new master. + +"So you are Woodman?" said Harry. + +"Yes, sir," said the boy. "Have you come instead of Mr. Scrafton, sir?" + +"No, I have come as well." + +At this there were groans, of which Harry thought it best to take no +notice. He observed, however, that Woodman was not among the groaners, +and to get upon safe ground he asked him what the book was. + +"One of Ballantyne's, sir. It's magnificent!" And the dark eyes glowed +like coals in what was again a very pale face. + +"_The Red Eric_," said Harry, glancing at the book. "I remember it +well. You're in an exciting place, eh?" + +"Yes, sir: the mutiny, sir." + +"Then don't let me stop you--run along!" said Harry, smiling; and +Woodman was back on the floor and aboard his whaler before the new +master realised that this was hardly the way in which he had been +instructed to treat the boy who was always reading. + +But he went on chatting with the others, and in quite a few minutes he +felt that, as between the boys and himself, all would be plain sailing. +They were nice enough boys--one or two a little awkward--one or two +vocally unacquainted with the first vowel--but all of them disposed to +welcome a man (Harry thought) after the exclusive authority of resident +ladies. Traces of a demoralising rule were not long in asserting +themselves, as when Robertson gave Simes a sly kick, and Simes started +off roaring to tell Mrs. Bickersteth, only to be hauled back by Harry +and given to understand (evidently for the first time) that only little +girls told tales. The bigger boys seemed to breathe again when he said +so. Then they all stood at one of the windows in the failing light, and +Harry talked cricket to them, and even mentioned his travels, whereat +they clamoured for adventures; but the new master was not such a fool +as to play all his best cards first. They were still at the window when +the gate opened and in walked a squat silk-hatted gentleman with a +yellow beard and an evening paper. + +"Here comes old Lennie!" exclaimed Gifford, who was the one with the +most to say for himself. + +"Who?" said Harry. + +"Lennie Bickersteth, sir--short for Leonard," replied Gifford, while +the other boys laughed. + +"But you mustn't speak of him like that," said Harry severely. + +"Oh, yes, I must!" cried Gifford, excited by the laughter. "We all call +him Lennie, and Reggie Reggie, and Baby Baby; don't we, you fellows? +Bicky likes us to--it makes it more like home." + +"Well," said Harry, "I know what Mrs. Bickersteth would _not_ like, and +if you say _that_ again I shall smack your head." + +Which so discomfited and subdued the excitable Gifford that Harry liked +him immensely from that moment, and not the less when he discovered +that the boy's incredible information was perfectly correct. + +Mrs. Bickersteth was a widow lady with three grown-up children, whom +she insisted on the boys addressing, not merely by their Christian +names, but by familiar abbreviations of the same. Leonard and Reginald +were City men who went out every morning with a bang of the big front +door, and came home in the evening with a rattle of their latch-keys. +Both were short and stout like their mother, with beards as yellow as +her hair, while Leonard, the elder, was really middle-aged; but it was +against the rules for the boys to address or refer to them as anything +but Lennie and Reggie, and only the governess and Harry were permitted +to say "Mr. Bickersteth." As for the baby of the family, who was Baby +still to all her world, she was certainly some years younger; and the +name was more appropriate in her case, since she wore the family hair +down to eyes of infantile blue, and had the kind of giggle which seldom +survives the nursery. She knew no more about boys than any other lady +in the house, but was a patently genuine and good-hearted girl, and +deservedly popular in the school. + +When Harry went to bed that night he smelt the smoke of a candle, +though he carried his own in his hand. Woodman was apparently fast +asleep, but, on being questioned, he won Harry's heart by confessing +without hesitation or excuse. He had _The Red Eric_ and a candle-end +under his pillow, and the wax was still soft when he gave them up. +Harry sat on the side of his bed and duly lectured him on the +disobedience and the danger of the detected crime, while the criminal +lay with his great eyes wide open, and his hair almost as white as the +pillow beneath it. When he had done the small boy said-- + +"If they had spoken to me like that, sir, last time, sir, I never +should have done it again." + +"You shouldn't have done it in any case," said Harry. "You've got to +promise me that it's the last time." + +"It's so hard to go asleep the first night of the term, sir," sighed +Woodman. "You keep thinking of this time yesterday and this time last +week, sir." + +Harry's eye was on the little irons lying on top of the little heap of +clothes, but he put on the firmest face he could. + +"That's the same for all," he said. "How do you know I don't feel like +that myself? Now, you've got to give me your word that you won't ever +do this again!" + +"But suppose they say what they said before, sir?" + +"Give me your word," said Harry. + +"Very well, sir, I never will." + +"Then I give you mine, Woodman, to say nothing about this; but mind--I +expect you to keep yours." + +The great eyes grew greater, and then very bright. "I'll promise not to +open another book this term, sir--if you like, sir," the little boy +cried. But Harry told him that was nonsense and to go to sleep, and +turned in himself glowing with new ideas. If he could but influence +these small boys as Innes had influenced him! The thought kept him +awake far into his first night at Teddington. His life there had begun +more happily than he could have dared to hope. + +Morning brought the day-boys and work which was indeed within even +Harry's capacity. It consisted principally in "hearing" lessons set by +Mrs. Bickersteth; and it revealed the educational system in vogue in +that lady's school. It was the system of question and answer, the +question read from a book by the teacher, the answer repeated by rote +by the boy, and on no condition to be explained or enlarged upon by +extemporary word of mouth. Harry fell into this error, but was promptly +and publicly checked by the head-mistress, with whom some of the elder +boys were studying English history (from the point of view of Mrs. +Markham and her domestic circle) at the other end of the baize-covered +dining-table. + +"It is quite unnecessary for you to enter into explanations, Mr. +Ringrose," said Mrs. Bickersteth down the length of the table. "I have +used _Little Steps_ for very many years, and I am sure that it explains +itself, in a way that little people can understand, better than you can +explain it. Where it does not go into particulars, _Little Arthur_ +does; so no impromptu explanations, I beg." + +Whereafter Harry received the answers to the questions in _Little Steps +to Great Events_ without comment, and was equally careful to take no +explanatory liberties with _Mangnall's Questions_ or with the _Child's +Guide to Knowledge_ when these works came under his nose in due course. + +Saturday was, of course, a half-holiday; nor could the term yet be said +to have begun in earnest. It appeared there were some weekly boarders +who would only return on the Monday, while Mr. Scrafton also was not +due until that day. Meanwhile an event occurred on the Saturday +afternoon which quite took the new master's mind off the boys who were +beginning to fill it so pleasantly: an event which perplexed and +distracted him on the very threshold of this new life, and yet one with +a deeper and more sinister significance than even Harry Ringrose +supposed. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +AT FAULT. + + +Harry had been requested to put on his boots in order to take the elder +boys for a walk. He was to keep them out for about an hour and a half, +but nothing had been said as to the direction he should take, and he +was indiscreet enough to start without seeking definite instruction on +the point. + +"Do you always walk two-and-two?" he asked the boys, as they made for +the High Street in this doleful order. + +"Yes, sir," said two or three. + +"But we needn't if you give us leave not to," added the younger Wren, +with a small boy's quickness to take advantage. + +"No, you must do as you always do, at any rate until we get out of the +village," said Harry as they came to the street. "Now which way do you +generally go?" + +The boys saw their chance of the irregular, and were not slow to air +their views. Bushey Park appeared to be the customary resort, and the +proverbial mischief of familiarity was discernible in the glowing +description which one boy gave of Kingston Market on a Saturday +afternoon and in the enthusiasm with which another spoke for Kneller +Hall. Richmond Park, said a third, would be better than Bushey Park, +only it was rather a long walk. + +To Harry, however, who had come round by Wimbledon the day before, it +was news, and rather thrilling news, that Richmond Park was within a +walk at all. The boys told him it would be near enough when they made a +bridge at Teddington. + +"There's the ferry," said one; and when Harry said, "Oh, there is a +ferry, then?" a little absently, his bias was apparent to the boys. + +"The ferry, the ferry," they wheedled, jumping at the idea of such an +adventure. + +"It's splendid over Ham Common, sir." + +"The ferry, sir, the ferry!" + +Of course it was very weak in Harry, but the notion of giving the boys +a little extra pleasure had its own attraction for him, and his only +scruple was the personal extravagance involved. However, he had some +silver in his pocket, and the ferryman's toll only came to pennies that +Harry could not grudge when he saw the delight of the boys as they +tumbled aboard. One of them, indeed, nearly fell into the river--which +caused the greatest boy of them all his first misgivings. But across +Ham fields they hung upon his arms in the friendliest and pleasantest +fashion, begging and coaxing him to tell them things about Africa; and +he was actually in the midst of the yarn that had failed on paper, when +there occurred on the Common that which was to puzzle him in the future +even more than it startled him at the moment. A lady and gentleman +strolled into his ken from the opposite direction, and that instant the +story ceased. + +"Go on, sir, go on! What happened then?" + +"I'll tell you presently; here are some friends of mine, and you +fellows must wait a moment." + +He shook them off and stepped across the road to where his friends were +passing without seeing him. Thus his back was turned to the boys, who +fortunately could not see how he blushed as he raised his hat. + +"It's Mr. Ringrose!" cried Fanny Lowndes. + +"The deuce it is!" her father exclaimed. "Why, Ringrose, what the +blazes are you doing down here, and who are your young friends?" + +"I'm awfully sorry I didn't let you know," said Harry, "but the whole +thing was so sudden. As I told you when you came to see us, Miss +Lowndes, I have been trying for a mastership for some time; and just as +I had given it up----" + +"You have got one!" + +"Yes, quite unexpectedly, at the beginning of this week." + +The girl looked both glad and sorry, but her father's nose was +twitching with amusement and his eyes twinkling in their gold frames. + +"You did well to take what you could get," said he, lowering his voice +so that nothing could be heard across the road. "Writing for your +living means writing for your life, and that's no catch; but by Jove, +Ringrose, you ought to get off some good things with such a capital +safety-valve as boys always on hand! When you can't think of a rhyme, +run round and box their ears till one comes. When you get a rejected +manuscript, try hammering their knuckles with the ruler! Where's the +school, Ringrose, and who keeps it?" + +Harry hung his head. + +"I am almost ashamed to tell you. It's a dame's school--at Teddington." + +"A dame's school at Teddington! Not Mrs. Bickersteth's?" + +"Yes--do you know it?" + +Harry had looked up in time to catch the other's expression, and it was +a very singular one. The lad had never seen such a look on any other +face, but on this face he had seen it once before. He had seen it in +the train, during the journey back to London, on the day that he could +never forget. It was the look that had afterwards struck him as a +guilty look, though, to be sure, he had never thought about it from the +moment when he took up his father's letter, and saw at a glance that it +was genuine, until this one. + +"Do I know it?" echoed Lowndes, recovering himself. "Only by +repute--only by repute. So you have gone there!" he added below his +breath, strangely off his guard again in a moment. + +"Come," said Harry, "do you know something against the school, or +what?" + +"Oh, dear, no; nothing against it, and very little about it," replied +Lowndes. "Only the school is known in these parts--people in Richmond +send their boys there--that is all. I have heard very good accounts of +it. Are you the only master?" + +"No, there's a daily pedagogue, named Scrafton, who seems to be +something of a character, but I haven't seen him yet. Do you know +anything about him?" + +The question was innocently asked, for Harry's curiosity had been +aroused by the repeated necessity of preventing the boys from opening +their hearts to him about Mr. Scrafton. If he had stopped to think, he +would have seen that he had the answer already--and Lowndes would not +have lost his temper. + +"How should I know anything about him?" he cried. "Haven't I just asked +you if you were the only master? Either your wits are deserting you, +Ringrose, or you wish to insult me, my good fellow. In any case we must +be pushing on, and so, I have no doubt, must you." + +Harry could not understand this ebullition, which was uttered with +every sign of personal offence, from the ridiculously stiff tones to +the remarkably red face. He simply replied that he had spoken without +thinking and had evidently been misunderstood, and he turned without +more ado to shake hands with Miss Lowndes. The father's goodwill had +long ceased to be a matter of vital importance to him; but it went to +his heart to see how pale Miss Fanny had turned during this exchange of +words, and to feel the trembling pressure of that true friend's hand. +It was as though she were asking him to forgive her father, at whose +side she walked so dejectedly away that it was not pure selfishness +which made Harry Ringrose long just then to change places with Gordon +Lowndes. + +The whole colloquy had not lasted more than two or three minutes; yet +it had ended in the most distinct rupture that had occurred, so far, +between Harry and his parents' friend; and that about the most minute +and seemingly insignificant point which had ever been at issue between +them. + +The boys found their new master poor company after this. He finished +his story in perfunctory fashion, nor would he tell another. He not +only became absent-minded and unsociable, but displayed an unsuspected +capacity for strictness which was really irritability. More than one +young wiseacre whispered a romantic explanation, but the majority +remembered that it was to the gentleman old Ring-o'-ring-o'-roses had +chiefly addressed himself; and the general and correct impression was +that the former had been "waxy" with old Ring-in-the-nose. Harry's +nickname was not yet fixed. + +Those, however, with whom he had been "waxy" in his turn had a +satisfaction in store for them at the school, where Mrs. Bickersteth +awaited them, watch in hand, and with an angry spot on each +fresh-coloured cheek. She ordered the boys downstairs to take their +boots off, and in the same breath requested Mr. Ringrose to speak to +her in the study, in a tone whose significance the boys knew better +than Harry. + +"I was under the impression, Mr. Ringrose, that I said an hour and a +half?" began the lady, with much bitter-sweetness of voice and manner. + +Harry pulled out his own watch, and began apologising freely; he was +some twenty minutes late. + +"When I say an hour and a half," continued the schoolmistress, "I do +not mean two hours. I beg you will remember that in future. May I ask +where you have been?" + +Harry said they had been to Richmond Park. The lady's eyes literally +blazed. + +"You have walked my boys to Richmond Park and back? Really, Mr. +Ringrose, I should have thought you would know better. The distance is +much too great. I am excessively angry to hear they have been so far." + +"I beg your pardon," said Harry, with humility, "but I don't think the +distance was quite so great as you imagine. Though we have walked back +through Kingston, we made a short cut in going, for I took the liberty +of taking the boys across the river in the ferry-boat." + +This was the last straw, and for some moments Mrs. Bickersteth was +practically speechless with indignation. Then with a portentous +inclination of her yellow head, "It _was_ a liberty," said she; "a very +great liberty indeed, I call it! I requested you to take them for a +walk. I never dreamt of your risking their lives on the river. Have the +goodness to understand in future, Mr. Ringrose, that I strongly +disapprove of the boys going near the river. It is a most undesirable +place for them--most unsootable in every way. Excessively angry I am!" + +This speech might have been heard over half the house, and by the end +Harry was fairly angry himself. But for his mother, and for a +resolution he had made not to take Mrs. Bickersteth seriously, but to +put up with all he possibly could, it is highly probable that the +Hollies, Teddington, would have known Harry Ringrose for twenty-four +hours only. As it was he maintained a sarcastic silence, and, when the +wrathful lady had quite finished, left her with a bow and the assurance +that what had happened should not occur again; he merely permitted +himself to put some slight irony into his tone. + +And, indeed, the insulting character of a reprimand which was not, +however, altogether unmerited, worried him far less in early retrospect +than the inexplicable manner of Gordon Lowndes on Ham Common. What did +he know about the school? What could have brought that odd look back to +his face? And why in the world should the master of an excellent temper +have lost it on provocation so ludicrously slight? These were the +questions that kept Harry Ringrose awake and restless in the still +small hours of the Sabbath morning. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +MR. SCRAFTON. + + +In the basement was a good-sized but ill-lighted room where three long +tables, resting on trestles, were sufficiently crowded on the four days +of the week when the day-boys stayed to dinner. On the two +half-holidays only one table was in use, and the boarders scarcely +filled it, with Miss Maudsley and Mr. Ringrose in state at either end. +But on Sundays all meals were in the big schoolroom, and were graced by +the presence of Mrs. Bickersteth's City sons, who brought with them a +refreshing whiff of the outside world, besides contributing to Harry's +enjoyment in other ways. He never forgot those Sunday meals. He was +fond of describing them to his friends in after years. + +At breakfast on his first Sunday he was quite sure that Mrs. +Bickersteth had heard of the death of a near relative. Her face and +voice were those of a chief mourner, and she appeared to be shedding +tears as she heard the boys their Collect at the breakfast table, +rewarding those who knew it with half a cold sausage apiece. The boys +were by no means badly fed, but that half-sausage was their one weekly +variant from porridge and bread-and-butter for breakfast, and they used +to make pathetically small bites of it. Mrs. Bickersteth, however, +scarcely broke her fast, but would suffer all day, and every Sabbath, +from what Harry came to consider some acute though intermittent form of +religious melancholia. Towards the end of breakfast the sons would come +down in wool-work slippers, a little heavy after "sleeping in," and it +was not at this meal that they were most entertaining. + +The next hour was one of the few which Harry had entirely to himself. +Most days he was on duty from eight in the morning to half-past eight +at night, but the hour between Sunday breakfast and morning service was +the new master's very own, and he spent it in a way which surely would +have made Mrs. Bickersteth's remarkable hair stand straight on end. +Even Sunday letter-writing was forbidden in her Sabbatarian household, +and yet Harry had the temerity to spend this hour in composing vulgar +verses for the _Tiddler_. He had discovered that contributions for the +Saturday's issue must reach the office on the Monday, and it is to be +feared that the consequent urgency of the enterprise led him into still +more reprehensible excesses. What he could not finish in his bedroom he +would mentally continue in church, whither it was his duty to take the +majority of the boys, while the rest accompanied the Bickersteths to +chapel. + +The dinner that followed was what Harry enjoyed. It was an excellent +dinner, and all but Mrs. Bickersteth were invariably in the best of +spirits. This lady used to stand at the head of her table and carve the +hissing round of secular beef with an air of Christian martyrdom quite +painful to watch. Not that it affected her play with the carving-knife, +which was so skilful that Harry Ringrose used to wonder why the +schoolmistress must needs lap a serviette round either forearm, and a +third about her ample waist, for the better protection of her Sunday +silk. This, however, was a trick of the whole family, who might have +formed the nucleus of a Society for the Preservation of Sunday Clothes. +Thus Reggie, the younger and more dapper son, used to appear on these +occasions in a brown velvet coat and waistcoat, with his monogram on +every button, but would mar the effect by tucking his table-napkin well +in at the neck and spreading it out so as to cover as much as possible +of his person. Lennie, the elder and more sedate, though he had no such +grandeur to protect, nevertheless took similar precautions; while the +good-natured Baby used to pull off a pair of immensely long cuffs, the +height of a recent fashion, and solemnly place them on the table beside +her tumbler, before running any risks. + +Water was the beverage of one and all, yet the spirits of the majority +would rise with the progress of the meal. Reggie, who was a very +facetious person, would begin to say things nicely calculated to make +the boys titter; the elder brother would air a grumpy wit of his own; +and Mrs. Bickersteth would shake the cap awry on her yellow head and +beg them both to desist. The good-hearted Baby would add her word in +vindication of the harmless character of her brothers' jokes, and at +the foot of the table the governess would trim her sails with great +dexterity, looking duly depressed when she caught Mrs. Bickersteth's +eye and coyly tickled on encountering those of the gentlemen. Harry sat +between Leonard Bickersteth and a line of little boys, and facing the +flaxen-haired Baby, who gave him several kindly, reassuring smiles for +which he liked her. The young men also treated him in a friendly +fashion; but he was quite as careful as his fair colleague not to +commit himself to too open an appreciation of their sallies. + +The boys were in Harry's charge for the afternoon, but it seemed that +on Sundays they never went for a walk for walking's sake. Occasionally, +as it turned out, he would be requested to take them to some children's +service; but on that first Sunday, and as a rule, they spent the +afternoon in the smaller school-room upstairs, where some strictly +Sabbatarian periodicals were given out for the day's use, and only such +books as _Sunday Echoes in Week-day Hours_, and the stories of Miss +Hesba Stretton, permitted to be read. Harry used to feel sorry for +little Woodman on these occasions. He would catch the small boy's great +eyes wandering wistfully to the shelf in which his _Mangnall's +Questions_ and _The Red Eric_ showed side by side; or the eyes would +stare into vacancy by the hour together, seeing doubtless his +Devonshire home, and all that his "very superior people" would be doing +there at the moment. Harry liked Woodman the best of the boys, partly +because he had a variety of complaints but never uttered one. The new +master was much too human, and perhaps as much too unsuited by +temperament for his work, not to have favourites from the first, and +Woodman and Gifford were their names. + +After tea they all went off to evening service, and after that came a +peaceful half-hour in the pretty drawing-room, where the boys sang +hymns till bed-time. There was something sympathetic in this +proceeding, the conduct of which was in Baby Bickersteth's kindly +hands. The young lady presided at the piano, which she played +admirably, and the boys stood round her in a semicircle, and each boy +chose his favourite hymn. Lennie and Reggie joined in from their +chairs, and Mrs. Bickersteth's lips would move as she followed the +words in a hymn-book. When the last hymn had been sung, the +schoolmistress read prayers; and when the boys said good-night she +kissed each of them in a way that quite touched Harry on the Sunday +evening after his arrival. He saw the boys to bed in a less captious +frame of mind than had been his all day, and when he turned in himself +he was rather ashamed of some of his previous sentiments towards the +schoolmistress. He had seen the pathos of her pious depression, and he +was beginning to divine the hourly irritants of keeping school at Mrs. +Bickersteth's time of life. Instead of his cynical resolve not to take +her seriously, he lay down chivalrously vowing to resent nothing from a +woman who was also old. He seemed to have seen a new side of the +schoolmistress, and henceforth she had his sympathy. + +Indeed there was a something human in all these people; they had kind +hearts, when all was said; and Harry Ringrose began to feel that for a +time at any rate, he need not be unhappy in their midst. He had still +to encounter the master spirit of the place. + +When all the boys were standing round the long dining-table next +morning, having taken turns in reading a Chapter aloud, Mrs. +Bickersteth made an announcement as she closed her Testament. + +"This term," said she, "Mr. Scrafton is coming at half-past ten instead +of at eleven, and those boys who are to go to him will be in their +places in the upper schoolroom at twenty-five minutes past ten each +morning." + +A list followed of the boys who were promoted to go to Mr. Scrafton +that term; it ended with the name of little Woodman. Harry happened to +be engaged in the background in the intellectual task of teaching a +tiny child his alphabet. He could not help seeing some ruddy cheeks +turn pale as the list was read; but Woodman, with a fine +regardlessness, was reading a letter from Devonshire behind another +boy's back. + +Punctually at ten-thirty a thunderous knock resounded from the front +door, and Harry was sorry that he had not been looking out of the +window. He saw Mrs. Bickersteth jump up and bustle from the room with a +most solicitous expression, and he heard a loud voice greeting her +heartily in the hall. Heavy feet ran creaking up the stairs a few +minutes later, and Mrs. Bickersteth returned to her task of hearing +tables and setting sums. + +Meanwhile Harry was devoting himself to the very smallest boys in the +school, mites of five and six, whose nurses brought them in the morning +and came back for them at one o'clock. About eleven, however, Mrs. +Bickersteth suggested that these little men would be the better for a +breath of air, and would Mr. Ringrose kindly take them into the +back-garden for ten minutes, and see that they did not run on the +grass? Now, Harry's pocket was still loaded with a missive addressed to +the editor of _Tommy Tiddler_, which obviously must be posted by his +own hand, and might even now be too late. He therefore asked permission +to go as far as the pillar-box at the corner, in order to post a +letter; and Mrs. Bickersteth, who was luckily in the best of tempers, +not only nodded blandly, but added that she would be excessively +obliged if Mr. Ringrose would also post some letters of hers which he +would find upon the hall-table. So Harry sallied forth, with an infant +in sailor-clothes holding each of his hands, and whom should he find +loitering at the corner but Gordon Lowndes? + +"Why, Ringrose," cried he, "this is well met indeed! I was just on my +way to have a word with you. I was looking for the house." + +The hearty manner and the genial tone would have been enough for Harry +at an earlier stage of his acquaintance with this man; but now +instinctively he knew them for a cloak, and he would not relinquish the +small boys' hands for the one which he felt was awaiting his, though +his eyes had never fallen from Lowndes's spectacles. + +"I am not sure that you would have been able to see me," was his reply. +"I am on duty even now. What was the point?" + +"Is it impossible for me to have a word with you alone?" + +Harry told the little boys to walk on slowly to the pillar. "It will +literally have to be a word," he added pointedly. Yet his curiosity was +whetted. What could the man want with him here and now? + +"Very well--very well," said Lowndes briskly. "I merely desire to +apologise for my--my hastiness when we met on Saturday. I fear--that +is, my daughter tells me--but indeed I am conscious myself--that I +quite misunderstood your meaning, Ringrose, on a point in itself too +trifling to be worth naming. You may remember, however, that you asked +me if I knew anything about a person of whose very existence I had just +exposed my ignorance?" + +"I remember," said Harry. "A mere slip of the tongue, due to my +curiosity about the man." + +"And is your curiosity satisfied?" inquired Lowndes, becoming suddenly +preoccupied in wiping the dust from his eye-glasses. + +"Well, I haven't seen him yet, though he is in the house." + +"Ah!" said Lowndes, as though he had not listened. "Well, Ringrose, all +I wanted was to tell you frankly that I didn't mean to be rude to you +on Saturday afternoon; so I took the train on here before going to the +City; and now I've just time to catch one back--so good-bye." + +"It was hardly worth while taking so much trouble," said Harry dryly; +for he knew there was some other meaning in the move, though as yet he +could not divine what. + +"Hardly worth while?" said Lowndes. "My dear boy, that's not very kind. +I have always been fond of you, Ringrose, and for your own sake as well +as on every other ground I should be exceedingly sorry to offend you. +Things are looking up with the Company, you know, and I can't afford to +quarrel with our future Secretary!" + +And with that cunning unction he walked away laughing, but Harry knew +there was no laughter in his heart, and that every word he had spoken +was insincere. What then was the meaning? To keep friendly with him, +doubtless; but why? And such were the possibilities of Gordon Lowndes, +and such the imagination of Harry Ringrose, that the latter took his +little boys back to the school with the very wildest and most +far-fetched explanations surging through his brain. + +In the hall he heard a strident voice raging in the schoolroom +overhead. He could not help going a little way upstairs to discover +whether anything serious was the matter. And outside the schoolroom +door stood one of the biggest boys, crying bitterly, with his collar +torn from its stud, and one ear and one cheek as crimson as though that +side of his face had been roasted before a fire. + +At one o'clock the whole school went for a walk before dinner, and it +was then that Harry at last set eyes on the formidable Scrafton, as he +came downstairs in his creaking shoes, with his snuff-box open in his +hand, and his extraordinary head thrown back to take a pinch. There are +some faces which one has to see many times before one knows them, as it +were, by heart; there are others which one passes in the street with a +shudder, and can never afterwards forget; and here was a face that +would have haunted Harry Ringrose even though he had never seen it but +this once. + +A magnificent forehead was its one fine feature; the light blue eyes +beneath were spoilt by their fiery rims, and yet they gleamed with a +fierce humour and a keen intelligence which lent them distinction of a +kind. These were the sole redeeming points. The rest was either cruel +or unclean or both. The creature's skin was very smooth and yellow, and +it shone with an unwholesome gloss. Abundant hair, of a dirty +iron-grey, was combed back from the forehead without a parting, and +gathered in unspeakable curls on the nape of a happily invisible neck. +A long, lean nose, like a vulture's beak, overhung a grey moustache +with a snuffy zone in the centre, and lost pinches of snuff lingered in +a flowing beard of great length. The man wore a suit of pristine black, +now brown with age and snuff, and Harry noticed a sallow gleam between +his shoes and his trousers as he came creaking down the stairs. In warm +weather he wore no socks. + +"This is the new master of whom I spoke to you," said Mrs. Bickersteth, +who was waiting in the hall to introduce Harry to Mr. Scrafton. + +"That a master?" bellowed Scrafton. "Why, I thought it was a new boy!" +And he let out a roar of laughter that left his blue eyes full of +water; then he strode across the hall with a horrible hand +out-stretched; the long nails had jagged, black rims, and in another +moment Harry was shuddering from a clasp that was at once clammy and +strong. + +"What's your name?" asked Mr. Scrafton, grinning like a demon in +Harry's face. + +"Mr. Ringrose," said Mrs. Bickersteth. + +"What name?" roared Scrafton. He had turned from Harry to the +schoolmistress. Harry saw her quail, and he took the liberty of +repeating his surname in a very distinct voice. + +"Where do you come from?" demanded Scrafton, turning back to Harry, or +rather upon him, with his red-rimmed eyes glaring out of an absolutely +bloodless face. + +Harry answered the question with his head held high. + +"Son of Henry Ringrose, the ironmaster?" + +"I am." + +"I thought so! A word with you, ma'am," cried Scrafton--and himself led +the way into Mrs. Bickersteth's study. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +ASSAULT AND BATTERY. + + +Harry was left alone in the hall. The boys were in the basement, +putting on their boots. There were high words in the study, and yet +Scrafton seemed to be speaking much below his normal pitch. Harry +sauntered into the deserted schoolroom to avoid eavesdropping. And as +if in spite of him, the voices rose, and this much reached his ears: + +"I tell you it will ruin the school!" + +"Then let me tell you, Mr. Scrafton, that the school is mine, and I +have done it with my eyes open." + +"The son of a common swindler! I know it to my cost----" + +To his cost! How could he know it to his cost, this suburban +schoolmaster? Harry had shut the door; he stood against it in a torment +of rage and shame, his fingers on the handle, only listening, only +waiting, for that other door to open. So in the end the two doors +opened as one, and the two masters met in the hall and glared in each +other's faces without a word. + +"Mr. Ringrose!" cried Mrs. Bickersteth hastily. + +Harry turned from the baleful yellow face in a paroxysm of contempt and +loathing, and was next moment closeted with a trembling old woman whose +pitiable agitation was another tribute to the terrible Scrafton. + +Mrs. Bickersteth's observations were both brief and broken. She had +just heard from Mr. Scrafton what indeed was not exactly new to her. +The name was uncommon. Her sons had recalled the case on the arrival of +Harry's application for the junior mastership. They had not painted the +case quite so black as Mr. Scrafton had done, and they had all agreed +that the--the sin of the father--should not disqualify the son. She had +not meant to let Mr. Ringrose know that she knew (Harry thanked her in +a heartfelt voice), but she had hoped that nobody else would know: and +Mr. Scrafton knew for one. + +"Do you want to get rid of me?" asked Harry bluntly. + +The lady winced. + +"Not unless you want to go. No--no--I have neither the inclination nor +the right to take such a course. But if, after this, you would rather +not stay, I--I would not stand in your way, Mr. Ringrose." + +Harry saw how it was with Mrs. Bickersteth. She did not want to be +unjust, she did not want to give in to Scrafton, but oh! if Mr. +Ringrose would save the situation by going of his own accord! + +"Will you give me the afternoon to think it over?" said he. + +"Certainly," said Mrs. Bickersteth. "I wish you to consult your own +feelings only. I wish to be just, Mr. Ringrose, and--and to meet your +ideas. If you are going to town, any time before ten o'clock will be +time enough for your return." + +Harry expressed his gratitude, and said that in that case it would be +unnecessary for him to absent himself before the close of afternoon +school; nor did he do so; for he was not going to town at all. + +He was going straight to Richmond Hill, to put the whole matter before +Gordon Lowndes, and to beg the explanation he felt certain the other +could give. Why should Scrafton have lost his colour and his temper at +the bare mention of the name of Ringrose? Was it true that he knew that +name already "to his cost"? Then how did he know it to his cost, and +since when, and what was the subtle connection between Mr. Ringrose and +this same Scrafton? Was Lowndes aware of any? + +Yes, there was something that Lowndes knew, something that he had known +on the Saturday afternoon, something to account for his surprise on +learning to what school Harry had gone as master. He had indignantly +denied all knowledge of Scrafton, but Harry could no longer accept that +gratuitous and inexplicable repudiation. It was the very fact that he +did know something about Scrafton, something which he wished to keep to +himself, that had made him angrily disclaim such knowledge. + +Harry was coming back to his old idea that Lowndes had been more deeply +implicated in his father's flight than anybody supposed. He no longer +suspected foul play--that was impossible in the face of the letter from +Dieppe--but he did suspect complicity on the part of Lowndes. What if +Lowndes had swindled wholesale in the ironmaster's name, and what if +Scrafton were one of his victims? + +What if Lowndes could tell him where his father lay in hiding abroad! + +The thought brought a happy moment and an hour of bitterness; no, it +were better they should never know; better still if he were dead. And +the bitter hour that followed was the last and the loveliest of a warm +September day; and Harry Ringrose spent it in walking across Ham Common +and through Richmond Park, in the mellow sunset, on his way to Richmond +Hill. + +When he got there it was dusk, and two men were pacing up and down the +little garden in front of Lowndes's house. Harry paused at the gate. +The men had their heads close together, and were conversing so +earnestly that they never saw him. They were Lowndes and Scrafton. + +Harry stepped back without a sound. All his suppositions had been built +upon the hypothesis that these two were enemies; it had never entered +his head that they might be friends. To find them together was the last +thing he had expected, and the discovery chilled him in a way for which +he could not instantly account. He knew there was good reason for it, +but in his first discomfiture he could not find the reason. + +He stole back along the road, a shower of new suspicions sticking like +arrows in his soul. The very vagueness of his sensations added to their +sickening effect. His brain heaved as though with wine, and when he +clapped a hand to his head it came back dripping. He was at the corner +of the road before he knew what he was going to do, and there he spent +minutes hesitating and considering. Unable to make up his mind, he +crossed over and returned to reconnoitre from the other side. To and +fro walked Lowndes and Scrafton, on the gravel path in front of the +lighted window opposite; and faster than their feet, but lower than +their footfalls, went their tongues. + +Harry had not heard a word before. At this distance it was impossible +for him to catch a syllable, and he was glad of it. He would watch his +men and bide his time. It might be his best policy to do nothing, to +say nothing, for the present; but he would keep an eye on the house +while he thought it over. + +The difficulty was for the observer himself to escape observation. The +road was so quiet that if he strolled up and down, those other +saunterers in the garden could not fail to have their attention +attracted to him sooner or later. It was so narrow that they had only +to look up in order to see him leaning against the paling of the +opposite house. This house, however, was unoccupied, and behind the +paling, in the segment of a circle formed by the shortest of suburban +carriage drives, grew a clump of laurels which tempted Harry to do a +very foolish thing. He crept into the garden of the unoccupied house, +and from a point of vantage among the laurels he watched the two men in +the garden over the way. + +Up and down they walked, backward and forward, and their low voices +never ceased; backward and forward, up and down; and now the light of a +lamp made oval flames of Lowndes's glasses, now the taller Scrafton's +cormorant profile was stamped for an instant on the lighted blinds, +while the loathsome sound of his snuff-taking came again and again +across the quiet road. + +So these men were friends: and Lowndes had carefully implied that they +were not even acquainted. Why should he have gone out of his way to do +that? He had flown into a temper when that careful implication was +inadvertently ignored; and had afterwards so feared the tell-tale +effect of this unguarded outbreak that he had gone all the way to +Teddington with elaborate apologies and ingenious explanations. + +Stay: no: he had gone to Teddington with an ulterior motive, which only +this instant dawned upon Harry Ringrose. Now he thought of it, there +had been an obvious absence of premeditation about both the apology and +the explanation; in fact, he had never before heard the fluent Lowndes +hesitate so often for a word. Why? Because he had gone to Teddington +that morning with quite another object, and at last Harry saw what it +was. + +He remembered Mrs. Bickersteth's announcement that this term Mr. +Scrafton was coming half-an-hour earlier than formerly. He remembered +how cleverly Lowndes had contrived to discover that Scrafton was +already in the house. He had never forgotten Scrafton's face on hearing +the new master's name. The thing was plain as daylight, and Harry only +wondered how and why he had not seen it at once. Gordon Lowndes had +gone to Teddington simply and solely to intercept his friend Scrafton, +and to warn him that he was about to meet a son of the missing Henry +Ringrose. + +But why warn him? What had Harry's father been to Scrafton, or Scrafton +to Harry's father? The lad's blood ran hot with suspicion, ran cold +with surmise: there were the two men who could tell him the truth, +there within twenty yards of him: he heard their every footfall in the +gravel, heard one taking snuff, and the other talking, talking, talking +in an endless whisper. Yet he could not walk boldly across the road and +challenge them to tell him the truth! He was not sure that it would be +a wise thing to do, but it galled him to feel that he could not do it. +Lowndes loved a scene as much as he hated one, but Harry felt he could +have stood up to Lowndes alone. Scrafton was a loathly being, but he +would not have daunted Harry by himself. It was the two together, the +coarse bully and the keen-witted man of the world, strong men both, +whom the lad could not bring himself to challenge in cold blood. He +had, indeed, too much sense; but, in an agony of self-upbraiding +consciousness, he kept blaming and hating himself for having too little +pluck. He thought of the motto on his bedroom wall at home. He would +have it down; it was not for him. It was only for those who had some +pluck to lose. + +And as he cowered in the garden of the empty house, a white face among +the leaves, impotent, bewildered, self-tormenting, the front door +opened across the road, and a supple, strong figure stood so straight +in the mouth of the lighted passage, a silhouette crowned with gold by +the lamp within. For an instant Harry's heart seemed to stop, and the +next instant to rush from his keeping to that lighted door. He had +forgotten the existence of Fanny Lowndes. + +"Dinner is ready," she said. Harry heard the words distinctly: there +was no reason to lower that honest voice. But he thought that he +detected an unwonted note of fear--one of disgust he could swear +to--and instantly his mind was going over every conversation he had +ever had with the girl, hunting for that unwonted note which was yet +not entirely unfamiliar. He felt certain that he had heard it before. + +"One moment," replied Lowndes; and his voice sank once more, and so +continued volubly for some minutes: then the pair went in. + +But Harry lingered among his laurels, strongly impelled to go +incontinently with his questions and his suspicions to the one friend +of whose sympathy he felt sure, of whose truth and honour there was no +question. Yet to that one friend he could never go, for was she not +also the only child of Gordon Lowndes? + +And what then was his wisest course? Should he do nothing, for the +present, but return to Teddington, continue in the school, and watch +this Scrafton from day to day? Or should he wait until Scrafton was +gone, and then confront Lowndes with an uncompromising demand for +explanations? Prudence advised one course, gallantry another; but the +question was to receive a sufficiently sensational solution. It so +happened that the burglary season had set in early that autumn in the +Thames valley, and the Richmond police in particular were already +greatly on their mettle. A certain young constable, at once desirous of +his stripes and yet not a little alarmed by his own enterprise, had +obtained leave to go on his beat in noiseless boots, and he came into +Greville Road about the time that Lowndes and Scrafton went indoors. +Not a sound came from his muffled feet, but that only seemed to make +his heart beat the louder; for it was a very human young constable, and +the majority of the recent burglaries had taken place at this very +hour, while the families were at dinner. + +Suddenly the young policeman stood still and all but shaking in his +soundless boots: for a few feet from his nose, where he least expected +it, in the garden of an empty house, was a pale face among the laurels, +with dark eyes upon the house across the road. A palpable burglar +choosing his window. A desperate fellow, judging by his face, and yet +one to be taken single-handed if he were alone. + +Harry did not hear the hand feeling for the truncheon, nor yet the +leather tongue leaping from the brass button; but he smelt the dark +lantern burning about a second before the light was flashed in his +face. + +"Wad-you-doing-there?" + +The low voice was drunken in its excitement. + +Harry recoiled among the laurels, guiltily enough, for he was horribly +startled. + +"Come-out-o'-that!" growled the young constable through his teeth to +prevent their chattering, and with his words still running together. +"Come-out-o'-that; you've-got-to-come-along-with-me!" + +"Why?" cried Harry, frightened into self-possession on the spot. + +"You know why! Think I didn't see you watching that house? Out you +come!" + +The constable also was becoming master of his nerves. Harry, indeed, +neither looked nor spoke like a very desperate person. + +"Look here, officer," said he, "you're making a mistake. Do I look a +burglar?" + +"Come out and I'll tell you." + +"Well, but look here: you're not going to run me in if I do?" + +"I'm not so sure about that." + +"You can't!" cried Harry, losing his temper. "What charge have you to +bring against me?" + +"Trespassing with intent! You may satisfy the sergeant, and if you do +he won't detain you. But I've got to do my dooty, and if you won't come +out I'll make you, but if you take my advice you'll come quietly." + +"Oh, I'll come quietly," said Harry, "if I've got to come." + +His tone was one of unaffected resignation. To be haled before the +police was a new and most grotesque experience, at which he could have +laughed outright but for the dread lest his superior officers might +prove as crass as this callow constable. That he would have to go, +however, appeared inevitable; and though the thought of calling Lowndes +to vouch for his respectability did occur to him, it was instantly +dismissed, and that of resistance never occurred to him at all. Harry +was a very peaceable person, but he was also very excitable and +impulsive, and what he now did was done without a moment's thought. He +had opened the gate, which was wide and heavy, with the kind of latch +which allows a gate to swing past the post on either side, and on the +pavement stood a young police man with his lantern and something +glittering in its light. It was a pair of handcuffs, and the sight of +them was responsible for what followed. Instead of passing through the +gate, as he seemed in the act of doing, Harry clapped both hands to the +bar and rushed at the policeman with the gate in front of him. Every +bar struck a different section of the man's body: his lantern fell with +a clatter, his handcuffs with a tinkle, and he himself was hurled +heavily into the road, along which Harry was scampering like a wild +thing. At the corner he stopped to look back, because no footsteps were +following and no whistle had been blown. The lantern had not gone out, +for a jet of light spouted from the pavement half-way across the road, +where it ran into a dark-blue heap. Otherwise the little road was quite +deserted. + +Some minutes later, when the whistles began to blow, the man they blew +for just heard them from the heights of the hill; but he had had the +presence of mind to walk up to the park gates, and through them at a +pace almost leisurely; and long before ten o'clock he was sitting over +little Woodman's fire in his room at the Hollies, Teddington, and +wondering whether it was he or another who had been through the +adventures of the evening. + +He had decided to remain at the school, and Mrs. Bickersteth had +accepted his decision without comment. The schoolmistress little dreamt +to whom a paragraph referred which caught her eye in the next issue of +the _Surrey Comet_:-- + + RICHMOND BURGLARS. + + ASSAULT ON THE POLICE. + + As Constable John Tinsley, Richmond division, Metropolitan Police, + was on his rounds on Monday evening last, he noticed a man lurking + in the garden of an empty house on the hill, and, on demanding an + explanation, was savagely assaulted and left senseless in the road. + There can be little doubt, from the bruises on Tinsley's body, that + the ruffian felled him with some blunt instrument, and afterwards + kicked him as he lay insensible. Tinsley is now on duty again, but + considers he has had a lucky escape. He describes his assailant as + a thick-set and powerful young fellow of the working class, and has + little doubt that he was one of the brutal and impudent thieves who + are at present a pest of the neighbourhood. + +Harry Ringrose would not have recognised himself had he not been on the +look-out for some such item: when he did, he breathed more freely, +though not freely enough to show himself unnecessarily on Richmond +Hill. The paragraph he cut out and treasured for many years. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +BIDING HIS TIME. + + +When Scrafton's knock thundered through the house on the morning after +Harry's adventure, Mrs. Bickersteth again rose hastily and bustled from +the schoolroom; and for the next five minutes the ears of the junior +master had some cause to tingle. When the schoolmistress returned she +would not look at Harry, who was well aware that she had secretly +wished him to resign, and that conscience alone forbade her to send him +away in obedience to Scrafton's demands. That such demands had been +made the day before, and reiterated this morning, Harry was as certain +as though he had heard them; but the certainty only cemented his +resolve to stay where he was, to give not the smallest pretext for his +dismissal, and to watch Scrafton, patiently, steadily, day after day, +for some explanation of his animus against himself and of his +mysterious relations with Gordon Lowndes. + +It chanced that the middle of that September was as warm as midsummer, +and on the first Wednesday of the term a whisper of cricket went round +the school. It appeared that on Wednesday and Friday afternoons, +throughout the summer, the boys played cricket in Bushey Park, and as +it was still summer weather they were to do so this afternoon. + +"Are you going to take us, sir?" asked Gifford, as they were changing +into flannels, under Harry's supervision, in their dormitory, after +dinner. + +"Not that I know of," said Harry. "Who generally does?" + +"Mr. Scrafton, and he doesn't know the rules----" + +"Read 'em through once, years ago----" + +"And thinks he understands the game----" + +"And scores and umpires----" + +"And gives two men out at once!" + +Here, duty compelled Harry to administer a general snub; but he +determined to go to Bushey Park and see the cricket for himself; and +when the day-boys had assembled in flannels also, and Mr. Scrafton, +flourishing a long blackthorn, had marched them all off in double file, +the junior master had his chance. Little Woodman was left behind. He +was not allowed to play cricket. Harry was requested to take him for a +walk instead; and, on inquiring whether there would be any objection to +their going to Bushey Park to watch the game, received permission to do +so on the understanding that Woodman was not to sit on the grass or to +stand about too long. + +The wickets had just been pitched when they arrived, and Scrafton and +the biggest boy, kneeling behind either middle stump, were taking +sights for a common block-hole which Scrafton proceeded to dig at great +depth at either end. When the game began no player was allowed to take +an independent guard; but meanwhile Scrafton had caught sight of Harry +and his charge, and had borne down upon them with his blue eyes +flashing suspicion and animosity. + +"What have you come for?" he thundered in Harry's face. + +"To--watch you," replied Harry, watching him very calmly as he spoke. + +"Who gave you leave?" + +"Mrs. Bickersteth. Do you dislike being watched?" + +So mild was the look, so bland the tone, that it was impossible to tell +whether the ambiguity was intentional or accidental. Scrafton glared at +Harry for one eloquent moment; then his blue eyes fell and fastened +furiously upon the little fellow at Harry's side. + +"And you," he roared, flourishing his blackthorn over the small boy's +head, "what right have you here? A blockhead who can't say his first +declension has no right idling out o' doors. Take care, Master +Woodman--take very great care to-morrow!" + +And with the grin of an ogre behind the lifted blackthorn, Mr. Scrafton +turned on the heels of the shoes he wore next his skin, and rushed back +to the pitch. + +"I expect Mr. Scrafton's bark is worse than his bite," Harry could not +help saying to the trembling child at his side. "The brute!" he cried +in the same breath. He could not help that either. The blackthorn had +fallen heavily across the shoulders of a boy who had been throwing +catches without leave. Little Woodman never said a word. + +After this Harry could not trust himself to remain without interfering, +and he knew only too well what the result of such interference would +be. So Woodman and he walked to the far side of the ground, and only +watched the game for a few minutes, from a safe distance; yet it left +as vivid an impression in Harry's mind as the finest cricket he had +ever seen at Lord's. There stood Scrafton in his rusty suit, the +murderous blackthorn tucked under an arm, his pocket-book and snuff-box +in one hand, the pencil with which he scored in the other. Never was +game played in more sombre earnest, for neither side had the temerity +to applaud, and the umpire and scorer was also judge and flagellator of +the fielders, who pursued the ball slowly at the risk of being +themselves pursued with the blackthorn. Just before Harry went he saw +his friend Gifford given out because the ball had rolled against the +stumps without removing the bails. The boy had been making runs, and he +seemed dissatisfied. Scrafton took a pinch of snuff, put his pencil in +his pocket, and advanced flourishing his blackthorn in a manner that +made Harry turn his back on the game for good. But that night, when the +boarders undressed, there was a long, lean bruise across Gifford's +shoulders. + +The blackthorn remained in the umbrella-stand while Scrafton roared and +blustered in the upper schoolroom. But when it was he who took the boys +for their walk, the blackthorn went too--and was busy. And on the +chimney-piece upstairs there used to lie a long black ruler which was +said to hurt even more, which Harry yearned to pitch into the middle of +the Thames. + +During the first half of the term he never saw the inside of that room +under Scrafton's terrific rule; but his roaring voice could be heard +all over the house; and now and then, when Harry had occasion to pass +the door, he would pause to listen to the words. + +"Look at the sweat on my hand," was what he once heard. "Look at the +sweat on my hand! It's sweating to give Master Murray what he +deserves!" + +With that Scrafton could be heard taking a tremendous pinch of snuff; +but Harry was still on the stairs when a couple of resounding smacks, +followed by a storm of sobs, announced that Master Murray (aetat. 11) +had received his alleged deserts. The boy's ears were red and swollen +for the rest of that day. + +At first Harry could not understand how a religious woman like Mrs. +Bickersteth could countenance and keep such a flagrant bully, since +what he heard at odd times must be heard morning after morning by some +member of the household. The explanation dawned upon him by degrees. +Scrafton had been there so many years that he had gained an almost +complete ascendency over every adult in the establishment. The one +instance in which Harry knew Mrs. Bickersteth to stand firm was that of +his own continuance in the school. The one member of the Bickersteth +family whom he ever heard breathe a syllable against Scrafton was the +good-hearted, golden-haired Baby. Harry once met her face to face on +the stairs when a roaring and a thumping and a sobbing were going on +behind that terrible closed door. Harry looked at her grimly. Miss +Bickersteth reddened to the roots of her yellow hair. + +"It does sound dreadful," she admitted. "But--but Mr. Scrafton's kinder +than you think; he sounds worse than he is. And he teaches them so +well; and--and he has been here so many years!" + +Harry thought there was a catch in her voice as she brushed past him; +for one thump had sounded louder than the rest; and first a slate had +fallen, and then a boy. Indeed it was a common thing to hear the boys +whispering that so-and-so had been knocked down that day. But the fiend +was clever enough to keep his fist for their bodies, his flat hand for +their faces; the wretched little victims were never actually +disfigured. + +That he was a clever teacher Harry did not doubt. With quick receptive +material he was probably something more, and there were one or two boys +whom that baleful face, that ready hand, and that roaring voice did not +instantly daze and stupefy, and who were consequently getting on +remarkably well under Mr. Scrafton. With his repulsive personality, and +his more repulsive practices, the man had yet a touch of genius. He +wrote the boys' names in their Latin Grammars in the most perfect and +beautiful copperplate hand that Harry had ever seen. And those quicker +boys would show him sums worked out by no recognised rule, but with +half the figures expended in the "key": for Scrafton had a shorter and +better rule of his own for every rule in arithmetic. + +Weeks went by before Harry and this man exchanged another word; but +daily they met and looked each other in the face, and daily the younger +man became surer and surer that the look those blue eyes shot at him +was instinct with a special venom, a peculiar malice, only to be +explained by the unravelment of that mystery which he was as far as +ever from unravelling. And every night of all these weeks he lay awake +wondering, wondering; yet every day the daily duties claimed and +absorbed his whole attention; and he took no step because he had found +no clue, and was still determined to find one; also because there were +certain cogent reasons for his keeping this mastership, for its own +sake, for one term at least. Mrs. Ringrose was still at the seaside +with the Walthews. She wrote to tell Harry how kind they were to her; +when they returned she was to remain with them until he rejoined her. +Meanwhile the flat was costing nothing but its rent, and Harry was not +only earning his board, lodgings, and ten pounds for the term, but from +ten to fifteen shillings a week from the excellent and munificent +_Tiddler_. If he chose to throw up the mastership at Christmas, they +would be able to start the New Year on a much sounder financial basis +than would have been possible had he never obtained it. + +So October wore into November, and the autumn tints became warmer and +richer in Bushey Park, and Harry grew fond of his walks with the boys, +and very fond of the boys themselves. Somehow his discovery on Richmond +Hill came to seem less significant than it had appeared at the time. +The idea grew upon Harry Ringrose (who was fully alive to the defects +of his own imaginative quality) that very likely there was a much +simpler explanation of Lowndes's lie than he had suspected at the time: +and though he loathed Scrafton for his brutality to the boys, and never +failed to meet that baleful eye as though he saw through its bloodshot +blue into the brain beyond, the look became a mechanical part of his +day's routine, and it was only in the long nights that the old +suspicions haunted him. So it was when the clash came between Harry +Ringrose and "I, Jeremiah Scrafton" (as the harpy loved to call himself +to the boys); and with the clash, not suspicion any more, but the dire +conviction of some rank and nameless, yet undiscovered, villainy. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +HAND TO HAND. + + +It all came of the junior master's clandestine connection with the +_Tiddler_. + +Harry Ringrose used many precautions in the matter of his little +journalistic skeleton. He imagined it safe enough in the locked drawer +in which he treasured such copies of the lively periodical as contained +his stealthy contributions. But, just as the most cautious criminal is +often guilty of the greatest carelessness, so Harry committed one gross +blunder every week; and, again like so many malefactors, his own vanity +was the cause of his undoing. He must see himself in print each week at +the earliest possible opportunity. + +The boys began by wondering why they always passed Teddington Station +on the Saturday walk, and why they were invariably left outside for at +least a minute. Then they wondered what paper it was the master bought. +He never let them see it. Yet he habitually took a good look at it +before rejoining them, which he nearly always did in the best of +tempers, though once or twice it was just the opposite. At last one +sophisticated boy bet another that it was a sporting paper, and the +other boy stole into the station at Harry's heels and with great +gallantry discovered what it was. The same Saturday Harry was observed +scribbling things (probably puns) on his shirt cuff, and referring to +these that evening when he said he had to write a letter, and writing +the letter in irregular short lines. It is to be feared that a few of +the boys then turned unscrupulous detectives, and the discovery of an +envelope addressed to the editor of _Tommy Tiddler_ proved a mere +question of time. + +The next thing was to find out what he wrote, and about this time Harry +had a shock. A day-boy was convicted of bringing a _Tiddler_ to lessons +at the instigation of a boarder, and the whole school heard of it after +Bible-reading, when the incriminating pennyworth was taken between the +tongs and publicly cremated for a "low, pernicious, disreputable paper, +which I hope never to see in my school again." Harry was not present at +the time, but these were Mrs. Bickersteth's words when she told him +what she had done, and begged him to be good enough to keep a sharp +look-out for future numbers of the "degrading thing." He had the new +one in his pocket as he bowed. + +About this time young Woodman was laid up in the bedroom at the top of +the house, and Harry had to keep the fire in and the kettle steaming +all night. The little fellow had grown upon him more and more, and yet +for a child he was extraordinarily reserved. Harry could never tell +whether Scrafton knocked him about or not; and once when Woodman +attributed a set of bruised knuckles to his having struck another boy +(a thing he was never known to do), Harry could have laughed at the +pious lie if he had not been too angry at the thought of anybody +ill-treating such a shadow of a boy. Yet nobody was especially good to +little Woodman: for Baby Bickersteth was good to all. + +Once or twice the boy's parents came to see him, young, wealthy people, +against whom Harry formed a possibly unwarrantable prejudice; and on +these occasions, before being sent downstairs to see them, the child +was first taken upstairs and his light hair made lank and rank with +pomatum, and his pale face burnished with much soap. While he was ill, +however, the Woodmans ran down from their hotel in town one Sunday +morning and spent an hour in the sick-room before hurrying back. Harry +was present when Mrs. Bickersteth came in from chapel and heard of it. +He followed the irate lady upstairs (to put away his Sunday hat), and +he heard her tell the invalid what she thought of his father for coming +up into her bedrooms in her absence. Gentlemen in her bedrooms she did +not allow; it was a most ungentlemanly liberty to take; and so on and +so on, until Harry saw such tears in the boy's eyes as Scrafton himself +could not have wrung. A new book was lying on the bed when Harry +quitted this painful scene. He saw it next under Mrs. Bickersteth's +arm; and he had to go upstairs again to say a word to the boy, though +it should cost him his beggarly place fifty times over. + +"I don't mind what they say to me," whimpered Woodman. "I only mind +what they say about my people." + +Harry found it possible to take the other side without unkindness. Mrs. +Bickersteth had said more than she meant. Most people did when they +were angry. Ladies were always sensitive about untidiness, and, of +course, the room was untidy. She had not meant to hurt Woodman's +feelings. + +"But my mater brought me a new Ballantyne, sir," said the boy. "It was +the one that's just come out, and Bick--Mrs. Bickersteth--has taken it +away from me." + +His tears ran again. + +"Well, I'll lend you something instead," said Harry. + +"Thanks awfully, sir." + +"I'll lend you anything you like!" quoth Harry recklessly. + +He was thinking of some novels in the locked drawer. + +"Honest Injun, sir?" + +Harry laughed. The boy had a quaint way with him that never went too +far, he was the one fellow with whom it was quite safe to joke, and it +was delightful to see his dark eyes drying beneath the bright look that +only left them when Woodman was really miserable. + +"Honest Injun, Woodman." + +"Then lend me a _Tiddler_." + +"A what?" + +"A _Tommy Tiddler_, sir," said Woodman demurely. + +"How on earth do you know I have one?" cried Harry aghast. + +"Everybody knows you get it every Saturday from the station, sir." + +"But how?" + +"Oh, I don't know," said Woodman. "But--but I do wish you'd show me +what you write in it, sir. I swear I won't tell the other fellows!" + +Harry was temporarily dumb. Then he burst out in an excited whisper: +how in the wide world did they know he wrote for the thing? Woodman +would not say. A lot of them did know it, but they had agreed not to +sneak--for which observation he apologised in the same breath. Woodman +whispered too; never were two such conspirators. + +And the immediate result was altogether inevitable. Harry loved a word +of praise from anybody, like many a better man, and Woodman was as much +above the average boy in sense of humour as he was below him in the +ordinary endowments. That Sunday, before he went to sleep, he had read +every false rhyme and every unblushing inversion of Harry's which had +yet found their way into print. It may have been very demoralising--it +has never been held that Harry had even the makings of an ideal +pedagogue--but the small boy actually went to sleep with a _T.T._ under +his pillow. And next day when he was permitted abroad in his room, and, +after the doctor's visit, to go down to Mr. Scrafton for an hour, it +was with _T.T._ stowed hastily in his jacket pocket that Woodman made +his reappearance in the upper schoolroom. + +Unaware that he had been allowed to leave his bed, Harry contrived to +run upstairs during the morning with a boy's magazine which one of the +other boarders had received from home that morning. Finding the room +empty, Harry only hoped his convalescent was breaking the journey from +bed to Scrafton in some more temperate zone, but on his way downstairs +he could not help pausing at that sinister shut door, and this was what +he heard. + +"Where did you get it?" No answer--thud. "Where--did--you--get it?" No +answer--thud--and so on some four or five times, with a dull thud after +each fruitless reiteration. + +Cold breath seemed to gather on Harry's forehead as on glass; an +instinct told him what was happening. + +"I am going on, you know," continued Scrafton, dropping his normal +bluster for a snarl of subtler malice, "until--you--tell--me--where-- +you--got----" + +A blow was falling between each word, and what Harry saw as he entered +was Scrafton leaning across a corner of the table, with his ogre's face +glaring into little Woodman's, and the unlucky _Tiddler_ grasped in his +left hand, while with his right fist he kept punching, punching, +punching, with unvarying aim and precision, between the shoulder and +the chest of the child. No single blow would have drawn a tear, nor +might the series have left a mark, but the little white face was +positively deathly with the cumulative pain, and, though his lips might +have been sewn together, a tear dropped on Woodman's slate as Harry +entered softly. Next instant Scrafton was seated on the floor, and +Harry Ringrose standing over him, brandishing the chair that he had +tugged from under the bully's body. + +"You infernal villain!" cried the younger man. "I've a good mind to +brain you where you sit!" + +It was more easily said than done. Scrafton seized a leg of the chair +in either hand, and, leaping up, began jabbing Harry with the back, +while his yellow face worked hideously, and his blue eyes flamed with +blood. Not a word was said as the two men stood swaying with the chair +between them; and Mrs. Bickersteth, who had heard the fall and Harry's +voice, was in time for this tableau, with its ring of small scared +faces raised in horror. + +"Mr. Scrafton!" she cried. "Mr. Ringrose! pray what are _you_ doing +here?" + +"What am I doing?" shouted Harry. "Teaching this brute you keep to +torture these children--teaching him what I ought to have taught him +weeks ago. Oh, I had some idea of what went on, but none that it was so +bad! I have seen these boys' bruises caused by this bully. I ought to +have told you long ago. I tell you now, and I dare you to keep him in +your school. If you do I call in the police!" + +Poor Harry was quite beside himself. He had lost his head and his +temper too completely to do justice to his case. His chest was heaving, +his face flaming, and even now he looked at Scrafton as though about to +tear that foul beard out by the roots. Scrafton grinned like a fiend, +and took three tremendous pinches of snuff. + +"Mr. Scrafton has been with me twenty-two years," said Mrs. +Bickersteth. "I shall hear him first. Then I will deal with you once +and for all. Meanwhile I shall be excessively obliged if you will +retire to your room." + +"I shall do nothing of the kind," retorted Harry Ringrose. + +"Then you are no longer a master in my school." + +"Thank God for that!" + +Mrs. Bickersteth turned her back upon him, and through all his +righteous heat the youth felt suddenly ashamed. In an instant he was +cool. + +Scrafton was telling his story. Mrs. Bickersteth had forbidden the low +paper, _Tommy Tiddler_, to be brought into the school, and Master +Woodman not only had a copy in his pocket, but stubbornly refused to +say how he had come by it. A little persuasion was being used, when Mr. +Ringrose rushed in, said Scrafton, and committed a murderous assault +upon him with that chair. + +"A little persuasion!" jeered Harry, breaking out again. "A little +torture, you brute! Now I will tell you where he came by that paper. I +lent it him." + +"You--a paid master in my school--lend one of my boys that vulgar, +vicious, abominable paper, after I have forbidden it in the school?" + +"Yes--I did wrong. I beg your pardon, Mrs. Bickersteth, for that and +for the way I spoke just now--to you--not to him," Harry took care to +add, with a contemptuous jerk of the head towards Scrafton. "As for +this unlucky rag," picking it up, "it may or may not be vulgar, but I +deny that it is either vicious or abominable. I shouldn't write for it +if it were." + +"You _write_ for it?" + +"Have done ever since I was here." + +"Then," cried Mrs. Bickersteth, "even if you had not behaved as you +have behaved this morning--even if you had not spoken as you have +spoken--in my presence--in the presence of the boys--you should leave +my school this day. You are not fit for your position." + +"And never was," roared Scrafton, taking another huge pinch and +snapping the snuff from his fingers; "and perhaps, ma'am, you'll listen +to. Jeremiah Scrafton another time. What did I tell you the first time +I saw him. A common swindler's whelp--like father, like son." + +So Scrafton took his chance, but now it was Harry's. He walked up to +the other and stared him steadily in the face. It was the look Harry +had given him five days out of the seven for many a week, but never had +it been quite so steady or so cool. + +"I won't strike you, Scrafton," said he; "no, thank you! But we're not +done with each other yet. You've not heard the last of me--or of my +father." + +"There's plenty wish they hadn't heard the last of him," rejoined +Scrafton brutally. + +"Well, you haven't, any way; and when you hear of him again, you +ruffian," continued Harry, under his breath, "it will be to some +purpose. I know something--I mean to know all. And it surprises you! +What do you suppose I stayed here for except to watch you? And I'll +have you watched still, Scrafton. Trust me not to lose sight of you +till I am at the bottom of your villainy." + +Not a word of this was heard by Mrs. Bickersteth or by the boys; they +merely saw Scrafton's face set in a grin that had suddenly become +ghastly, and the snuff spilling from the box between his blue-nailed +fingers, as Harry Ringrose turned upon his heel and strode from the +room. + +He took the stairs three at a time, in his eagerness to throw his +things into his portmanteau and to go straight from the guilty man +downstairs to the guilty man in Leadenhall Street or on Richmond Hill; +he would find him wherever he was; he would tear the truth from that +false friend's tongue. And this new and consuming excitement so lifted +him outside of his present surroundings, that it was as though the +school was not, as though the last two months had not been; and it was +only when he rose perspiring from his strapped portmanteau that the +glint of medicine bottles caught his eye, bringing the still lingering +odours of the sick-room back to his nostrils, and to his heart a tumult +of forgotten considerations. + +Instead of hurrying downstairs he strode up and down his room until a +note was brought to him from Mrs. Bickersteth. It begged him as a +gentleman to go quietly and at once, and it enclosed a cheque for ten +pounds, or his full salary for the unfinished term. Harry felt touched +and troubled. The lady wrote a good bold hand, but her cheque was so +tremulously signed that he wondered whether they would cash it at the +bank. He had qualms, too, about accepting the full amount; but the +thought of his mother overcame them, and that of the boys fortified him +to send down a stamped receipt with a line in which he declined to go +before Mrs. Bickersteth's sons returned from the City. + +He remained upstairs all day, however, in order to cause no additional +embarrassment before the boys, and, when his ears told him that +afternoon school had begun, he was still further touched at the arrival +of his dinner on a tray. On the strength of this he begged for an +interview with Mrs. Bickersteth, and, when Baby Bickersteth came up to +say her mother was quite unequal to seeing him, Harry apologised freely +and from his heart for the violence to which he had given way in his +indignation. But he said that he must see her brothers before he went, +as nothing could alter his opinion of the ferocious Scrafton, or of the +monstrosity of retaining such a man in such a position. + +"And you," he cried, looking boldly into the doll-like eyes, "you agree +with me! Then back me up this evening, and you will never, never, never +regret it!" + +The girl coloured as she left him without a word; but he thought the +blue eyes were going to fill, and he hoped for the best in the evening. +Alas! he was leaning on reeds, and putting his faith in a couple of +sober, unimaginative citizens, who, seeing Harry excited, deducted some +seventy per cent. from his indictment, and met his every charge with +the same stolid answer. + +"We were under him ourselves," they said, "and you see, we are none the +worse." + +"But you were Mrs. Bickersteth's sons. And I don't say these boys will +be any the worse when they grow up. I only say it is a crime to let +such little chaps be so foully used." + +"You have said quite enough," replied Leonard, gruffly. "It's not the +slightest use your saying any more." + +"So I see!" cried Harry bitterly. + +"You've upset my mother," put in Reggie, "but you don't bully us." + +"No!" exclaimed Harry. "I'll leave that to Scrafton--since even the men +of the house daren't stand up to him!" + +This brought them to their feet. + +"Will you have the goodness to go?" thundered Lennie. + +"Or have we to make you?" drawled Reginald. + +"You may try," said Harry, truculently. "I'm on to have it out with +anybody, though I'd rather it were a brute like Scrafton than otherwise +good fellows who refuse to see what a brute he is. But you will have to +see. You haven't heard the last of this; you'll be sorry you didn't +hear the last of it from me." + +"You threaten us?" cried Lennie Bickersteth, throwing the drawing-room +door open in a way that was in itself a threat. Harry stalked through +with an eye that dared them to use their hands. He put on his hat and +overcoat, flung open the front door, picked up his portmanteau and his +hat-box, and so wheeled round on the threshold. + +"I mean," he said, "to communicate with the parents of every boy who +has been under Scrafton this term. They shall question the boys +themselves." + +He turned again, and went slowly down the steps; before he was at the +bottom the big door had slammed behind him for ever. And yet again did +he turn at the wooden gate between the stucco pillars. There was his +window, the end window of the top row, the window with the warm red +light behind the blind. Even as he watched, the blind was pulled back, +and a little lean figure in white stood between it and the glass. + +It was a moonlight night, made lighter yet by a fall of snow that +afternoon, and Harry saw the little fellow so distinctly for the last +time! He was alternately waving a handkerchief with all his might and +digging at his eyes with it as though he meant to blacken them. It was +Harry's first sight of Woodman since the scene in the schoolroom, and +it was destined to be his last in life. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +MAN TO MAN. + + +The flat was in utter darkness when Harry arrived between nine and ten. +He was disappointed, and yet not surprised. He knew that his mother was +to have returned from the sea by this time, but that was all he did +know. He found the porter, and asked him how he was redirecting the +letters. + +The man gave Mr. Walthew's address. Harry groaned. + +"Mrs. Ringrose has never been back since she first went away?" + +"No, sir." + +"You have the key of the flat?" + +"Yes, sir; my wife goes up there every day." + +"Then get her to go up now and light the gas stove and lay the table. +I'll bring in the provisions if she'll do that and make my bed for me. +Tell her I know it's late, but----" + +"That's all right, sir," interrupted the porter, a familiar but +obliging soul; and when Harry returned in ten minutes, with his slices +of pressed beef and his French rolls and butter, from the delightful +shop round a couple of corners, the flat was lighted like a +public-house, and you lost sight of your breath in the minute +dining-room where the asbestos was reddening in the grate. + +Yet it was a sorry home-coming, that put Harry painfully in mind of his +last, and he felt very wistful and lonely when he had finished his +supper and written a few lines to his mother. He came in from posting +them with an ounce of birdseye, and dragged an easy chair from under +its dust-sheet in the other room, and so arranged himself comfortably +enough in front of the gas stove. But his first pipe for several weeks +did no more for him than Weber's Last Waltz, which duly welcomed him +through the ceiling. He was unused to solitude, and the morrow's +interview with Lowndes sat heavily on his nerves. His one consolation +was that it would take place before his mother's return. She must know +nothing until he knew all. And he had begged her not to hurry back on +his account. + +In the sideboard that was so many sizes too large for the room--the +schoolroom sideboard of the old home--he at last laid hands upon some +whisky, and in his loneliness and suppressed excitement he certainly +drank more than was good for him before going to bed. Immense and +immediate confidence accrued, only to evaporate before it was wanted; +and morning found him nervous, depressed, and dearly wishing that he +had gone hot from Scrafton to Lowndes the day before. But the bravest +man is he who goes trembling and yet smiling into action, and, after +all, it was a sufficiently determined face that Harry Ringrose carried +through the sloppy City streets that foggy forenoon. + +In the outer office the same small clerk was perched on the same tall +stool: but Bacchus sat solitary, in his top-coat and with a redder nose +than ever, at the desk in the inner office, the door of which was +standing open. + +"Good-morning, Mr. Backhouse," said Harry entering. "Mr. Lowndes is +out?" + +"Very much out." + +"Doesn't he come here now?" + +"No." + +"I'm sorry to trouble you, Mr. Backhouse, but can you tell me where I +can find him?" + +"Offices of the Crofter Fisheries." + +"Where are they?" + +"Hartington House, Cornhill." + +So brusque was his manner, so different from Harry's recollection of +the red-nosed man, that the young fellow thanked him for his +information with marked stiffness, whereupon the other sprang up and +clapped on his hat. + +"I don't mean to be rude to you, Mr. Ringrose, but I'm sick of that +man's name," cried he: "it gives me a thirst every time I hear it. +Didn't you know about the Company? It comes out next week--they're +going to have a solid page in every morning paper on Monday--capital +one million, and everything but Royalty on the board! Lowndes has made +himself General Manager with God knows how many thousand a year, and I +was to be Secretary with five hundred. He promised it to me again and +again--he had the use of these offices rent free for months--and used +to borrow from the housekeeper when I had nothing--and now he gives it +over my head to one of his aristocratic pals. I tell you, Mr. Ringrose, +it makes me dry to think of it! Come and let me buy you a drink." + +Harry thanked him but declined, and, on the way downstairs, asked +whether Lowndes still lived at Richmond. + +"He may be there still," said Bacchus, "but I hear he's going to move +into an abbey or castle--I forget which--as soon as the Company comes +out. He's renting it furnished from one of these belted blokes he's got +in with. So you won't have the least little split? Well, good-bye then, +Mr. Ringrose, and may Gordon Lowndes prove a better friend to you than +he has to me!" + +Harry could not help smiling grimly as he headed for Cornhill. The +grievance of Bacchus was as much his own. Most heartily he wished he +had no worse. + +Hartington House proved to be a modern pile with a lift worked by a +smart boy in buttons; and the offices of the Crofter Fisheries, +Limited, occupied the whole of one floor. If Harry had felt nervous +when climbing the familiar stairs in Leadenhall Street, he might well +have been overpowered by the palatial character of the new premises. A +commissionaire with as many medals as a Field-Marshal handed his card +to one gentleman, who passed it on to another gentleman, who carried it +through a ground-glass door. Harry was then conducted into a luxurious +waiting-room in which two or three busy-looking men were glancing +alternately at their watches and at the illustrated papers which +strewed the table. A single gigantic salmon occupied a glass case +running the length of the mantelpiece, while several new oil paintings +hung upon the walls. Harry noticed that the subjects were exclusively +Scottish, and that one at least was by a distinguished Academician, of +whose name the most was made in black letters on a gilt tablet. + +In such surroundings the visitor found it a little difficult to +rehearse what he had determined to say to Lowndes, and it was no +misfortune that kept him waiting the better part of an hour. The delay +gave him time to gather his wits and to recollect his points. It +prepared him for a new Gordon Lowndes. It steadied his feet when they +sank into the rich carpet of a still more sumptuous apartment, in the +middle of which stood the most magnificent desk he had ever seen; it +kept his eye from being distracted from the resplendent gentleman who +sat at the desk, the gentleman with the orchid in the silken lapel of +his frock-coat, and with everything new upon him but the gold +eye-glasses that bridged the twitching nose. + +Before his mouth opened beneath his waxed moustache, Harry felt +convinced that Lowndes had seen Scrafton, and was fully prepared for +this visit. + +"Well, Ringrose, what can I do for you?" he cried, as Harry advanced, +and his tone was both cold and sharp. + +"Ask your typist to step into another room," replied Harry, glancing +towards the young girl at the clicking Remington. + +Lowndes opened his eyes. Indeed, Harry had begun better than he himself +expected, and his confidence increased as the other turned to his +typist. + +"Be good enough to leave us for a minute, Miss Neilson; we shan't be +longer," said Lowndes pointedly. "Now," he added, "kindly take a seat, +Ringrose." + +But Harry came and stood at the other side of the magnificent desk. + +"I want to ask you two or three questions, Mr. Lowndes," said he +quietly. + +"About the Company, eh?" + +"No, not about the Company, Mr. Lowndes." + +"Then this is neither the time nor place, and it will have to be a very +short minute. But blaze away." + +"What is there between you and that man Scrafton?" asked Harry, and for +the life of him he could steady his voice no longer. His very lip was +trembling now. + +"Which man Scrafton?" asked Lowndes, beginning to smile. + +"You know as well as I do!" Harry almost shouted. "The other master in +the school at Teddington--the man whose existence you pretended not to +know of when I met you that afternoon on Ham Common. I ask you what +there is between you. I ask you why you pretended there was nothing +that Saturday afternoon--that Monday morning when you came to intercept +him and pretended you had come to see me. I ask you what there was +between that ruffian and--my father!" + +His voice was almost breaking in his passion and his agony, but he was +no longer nervous and self-conscious. That agony of doubt and of +suspicion--that passionate determination to know the truth--had already +floated him beyond the shoals of self. Lowndes waved a soothing hand, +and his tone altered instantly. It was as though he realised that he +was dealing with a dangerous fellow. + +"Steady, Ringrose, steady!" said he. "You must answer me one question +if you want answers to all those." + +And there was a touch of the old kindness in his tone, a strange and +disconcerting touch, for it sounded genuine. + +"As many as you like--_I_ have nothing to hide," cried Harry. And he +had the satisfaction of making Lowndes wince. + +"What makes you think I am acquainted with the man you mention?" + +"What makes me think it?" echoed Harry, with a hard laugh. "Why, I've +seen you together!" + +"When?" cried Lowndes. + +"The very day I saw you last. I came over to tell you something I'd +heard the fellow say. I wanted to consult you of all men! And there +were the two of you walking up and down your garden path." + +"Was it the evening?" + +"Yes, it was, and you walked up and down by the hour--like +conspirators--like confederates!" + +Lowndes had started up and was leaning across his desk. His hands +gripped the edge of it. His face was ghastly. + +"Spy!" he hissed. "You listened to what we were saying." + +"I didn't," retorted Harry. "You knew one gentleman even then." + +There were several sorts of folly in this speech: no sooner was it +uttered than Harry saw one. Had he been less ready to deny the +eavesdropping he might have learnt something now. By pretending to know +much he might have learnt all. He had lost a chance. + +And Gordon Lowndes--that arch-exponent of the game of bluff--was quick +as lightning to appreciate his good fortune. The blood rushed back to +his face, his hands came away from the mahogany (two little tell-tale +dabs they left behind them), and he sank back into his luxurious +chair--with a droop of the eyelids and ever so slight a shake of the +head--an artist deploring the inartistic for art's sake while he +welcomed it for his own. + +Harry was furious at his false move, and at this frank though tacit +recognition of the lost advantage. + +"I wish I had listened!" he cried. "God knows what I should have heard, +but something you dare not tell me, that I can see. There! I have been +fool enough to answer your questions; now it's your turn to answer +mine, and to tell me what there is between you and Scrafton." + +"Well, he's a man I've had a slight acquaintance with for a year or +two. He lodges--or he did lodge--in Richmond. I scraped acquaintance +with him because his face interested me. But it isn't more interesting +than the man himself, who is the one genius I know--the one walking +anachronism----" + +"I know all about that," interrupted Harry. "Why did you pretend you +knew nothing about him? That's what I want to get at. You don't deny +you led me to think you had never heard of him?" + +"No--I did my best to do so." + +"You admit it now! And why did you do your best? What was the meaning +of it? What had you to gain?" + +"Nothing." + +"Then why did you do it?" + +"My good fellow, that's my business." + +"Mine too," said Harry thickly. "This man knows something of my father; +you know something of this man; and first you pretend you don't--and +then you try to prepare him for meeting me. I suppose you admit it was +Scrafton you came to see that morning?" + +"Well, I confess I wanted to put salt on the fellow; and, as he'd left +Richmond, that was my only way." + +"Exactly!" cried Harry. "You wanted to put salt on him because there +was some mystery between the two of you and my father, and you were +frightened he'd let something out. By God, Lowndes, there's some +treachery too, if there isn't crime! Sit still. I'm not going to stop. +Ring your bell if you like, and I'll tell every man in the office--I'll +tell every big-wig on the board. There's treachery somewhere--there may +be crime--and I've suspected it from the beginning. Yes, I suspected +you the first time I set eyes upon you. I suspected you when we talked +about my poor father in his own room and in the train. You looked a +guilty man then--you look a guilty man now. Confess your guilt, or, by +the living Lord, I'll tell every director of this Company! Ah, you may +laugh--that's your dodge when you're in a corner--you've told me so +often enough--but you were white a minute ago!" + +The laugh had stopped and the whiteness returned as Lowndes sprang up +and walked quickly round the desk to where Harry stood. He laid a hand +on Harry's arm. The boy shook it off. And yet there was a kindness +behind the other's glasses--the old kindness that had disconcerted +Harry once already. + +"Consider what you are saying, Ringrose," said Lowndes quietly. "You're +going on like a young madman. Pull yourself together and just consider. +You talk of telling tales in a way that is neither nice nor wise. What +do you know to tell?" + +This simple question was like ice on the hot young head. + +"Enough, at any rate," he stammered presently, "to put me on the track +of more." + +"Then I advise you to find out the more before you make use of +threats." + +"I intend to do so. I'll be at the bottom of your villainy yet!" + +Lowndes darkened. + +"Do you want to force me to have you turned out?" he asked fiercely. +"Upon my word, Ringrose, you try the patience of the best friend you +ever had. Didn't I stand by you when you landed? Didn't I do the best I +could for you when I was on the rocks myself? Now I'm afloat again I +want to stand by you still, but you make it devilish difficult. I +honestly meant to make you Secretary of this Company, but when the chap +who helped me to pull it through asked for the billet, what could I do? +Here's an envelope that will show you I haven't forgotten you; take it, +Ringrose, and look at it at your convenience, and try to think more +charitably of an old friend. Recollect that I was your father's friend +first." + +"So you say," said Harry, taking the long thick envelope and looking +straight through the gold-rimmed glasses. "I will believe you when you +tell me where he is." + +"I know no more than the man in the moon." + +"You were at the bottom of his disappearance!" + +"I give you my word that I was not." + +"You know whether he is dead or alive!" + +"I do not, Ringrose." + +"Then tell me where you saw him last!" + +"You sicken me," cried Lowndes, losing his temper suddenly. "I told you +the whole story six months ago, and now you want me to tell it you +again so that you may challenge every point. I'll answer no more of +your insolent questions, and I'll tell the commissionaire to mark you +down and never to admit you again. You hold in your hand fifty shares +in this Company. Next week they will be worth a hundred pounds--next +month perhaps a thousand--next year very likely five. Take them for +your mother's sake, if not for your own, and for God's sake let me +never see your face again!" + +"From the man who may be at the bottom of our disgrace? No, thank +you--not until you tell me what you did with my father--you and +Scrafton between you!" + +"I have already answered you." + +"Then so much for your fifty shares." + +The long envelope spun into the fire. Lowndes darted to his desk, +caught the electric bell that dangled over it, and pressed the button. +Harry stalked to the door, turned round, and faced him for the last +time. + +"You will not tell me the truth; very well, I will find it out. I will +find it out," cried Harry Ringrose in a breaking voice, "if I have to +spend my whole life in doing so. And if you have wronged my father I +will have no mercy on you; and if you have not--all I ask is--that +you--have no mercy on me!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +THE END OF THE BEGINNING. + + +Harry drifted through the fog, the sport of misery and rage. He was a +beaten man, and slow as another to own it to himself. Now he swore that +he and he alone would unravel the mystery of his father's fate; now the +sense of his own impotence appalled him; but at last the bitter fact of +his defeat came home to him in all its nakedness. + +Yes, he had been beaten by a readier and a keener wit, and the most +plausible tongue a villain ever wagged. He had been at the mercy of +that specious charlatan, that unscrupulous blackleg, that scoundrel +self-confessed. He knew it now. Lowndes had put him in the wrong. He +was no match for a man like that. Nevertheless, he was in the right, +and one day it would be proved--and one day Lowndes would get his +deserts. + +And yet--and yet--there were words and looks and tones that had sounded +genuine enough. The man was not wholly false or bad. His good side, his +staunch side, had shown itself again and again, in good and staunch +actions performed without ostentation, and in motive transparently +pure. That side existed in him still, and Harry felt that he had spoken +as though it did not. He was sorry for many things he had said. He +wished he had said other things instead or as well. He wished he had +not flung those shares into the fire, though they proved that Lowndes +had expected him, and they must have been intended for a sop. Still he +was sorry he had thrown them on the fire; and he wished he could unsay +that boast about his being a gentleman because he had not listened; +other considerations apart, it struck him now almost as a contradiction +in terms. + +So to existing tortures he must needs add that of savage +self-criticism. It was the morbid wont of Harry Ringrose, the penalty +of a temperament. In a little, however, sheer perplexity gripped his +mind again, and wrenched it from himself. The old unanswered questions +were upon him once more. + +What had there been between Lowndes and Scrafton and his own poor +father? Were these men in league with the fugitive? Had they planned +the wrong which had ruined and disgraced his family? Lowndes had long +ago confessed that the raising of the £20,000 was his idea, that the +actual acquisition of the £10,000 was his deed. The chances were that +his scheme had gone further and cut deeper, and that at least a part of +the plunder was for himself. Then what had he done with his share--and +what had Scrafton done with his? + +How else could Scrafton come in? + +Harry thought of that ghoulish face, of those cruel hands, and the +blood ran cold in every vessel. If ever he had seen a man capable of +any crime, a man without bowels, as Lowndes was without principle, that +man was Jeremiah Scrafton. What if between them they had murdered the +ironmaster for those ten thousand pounds? What if they had driven him +out of his mind and clapped him into an asylum, or into some vile den +of Scrafton's? Ever quicker to imagine than to reason, the young fellow +tasted all the horror of his theories before he realised their +absurdity: where, again, were the proceeds of the crime? Lowndes was +only now emerging from the very depths of poverty, while as for +Scrafton, he was either an extremely poor man, or a stage miser come to +life. Besides, there was the letter from Dieppe. + +So he went from one blind alley of the brain to another; and of all the +faces that passed him in the fog, there was none he knew--he had no +friend to turn to in his sore dilemma. And he was trudging westward, +going back to face his mother and to live with her in the little flat, +with this miserable mystery unsolved, with these haunting suspicions +unconfirmed, and therefore to be locked indefinitely in his own bosom. +Vultures for his vitals, and yet he must face them, and alone. + +No one to tell--no friend to consult. The words were a dirge in his +heart. Suddenly they changed their tune and became a question. He +stopped dead in the street. It was the Strand. He had just passed the +gulf of fog which hid Waterloo Bridge. + +He stood some minutes, ostensibly studying the engravings in the shop +at the Adam Street corner, and looking again and again at his watch as +though anxious to know the time, but too absent to bear it in mind. It +was five minutes to one when he looked first; by five minutes past that +shop-window and the Strand itself knew Harry Ringrose no more. He was +deep in the yellow gulf, which was dimly bridged by the lights of the +bridge. + +The train took an hour to feel its way to Richmond: it was worse than +the hour spent in the waiting-room of the Crofter Fisheries, Limited. + +At Richmond the fog was white. To make an end of it, Harry took a cab, +and kept the man waiting while he asked if Miss Lowndes was in. A smart +parlour-maid told him that she was; otherwise there was no change. + +Fanny rose hastily from a low chair in front of a blazing fire; her +face was flushed but smiling, and she held up a paper in one hand while +she gave Harry the other. + +He took it mechanically. He had not meant to take it at all. It was the +wretched _Tiddler_, of all papers, which disarmed him. + +"I was just thinking about you," said his friend. "I was trying to find +out which is yours this week." + +"Yes?" + +There was no life in his voice. His heart had leapt with pleasure, only +to begin aching in a new place. + +"We take it in every week on your account," said Fanny Lowndes. + +"You mean that you do," said Harry, pointedly. + +She coloured afresh. + +"No; it is my father who brings it home from the City." + +"Then he never will again!" + +For some seconds their eyes were locked. + +"Mr. Ringrose, what do you mean? Your tone is so strange. Has anything +happened?" + +"Not to your father. He and I have quarrelled--that's all." + +"When?" + +"This morning." + +"And you have come to tell me about that!" + +"I didn't mean to do so. I came to speak to one of the only two friends +I have in the world besides my mother. I came to speak to you +while--while you would speak to me. And now I've gone and spoilt it +all!" + +"Of course you haven't," said the girl, with her kind smile. "Sit down +and tell me all about it. I think all the more of you for saying the +worst thing first." Yet she looked alarmed, and her tone was only less +agitated than his. + +"It is not the worst," groaned Harry Ringrose, "and I can't sit down to +say the sort of thing I've come to say. Oh, but I was a coward to come +to you at all! It was because I had no one else to turn to; and you +have always been my friend; but it was a cowardly thing to do! I will +go away again without saying a word." + +She had sunk down upon her low chair, and was leaning forward so that +he could not see her face, but only the red gold of her hair in the +ruddy firelight. + +"No; now you must go on," she said, without raising her face. + +"It is about your father--and mine." + +"I expected that." + +"I asked him some plain questions which he could not--or would +not--answer. In desperation--in distraction--I have come to put those +questions to you!" + +"It is useless," was the low reply. "I cannot answer them--either." + +"Wait until you hear what they are. They are very simple. What was +there between Scrafton and your father and mine? What had your father +and Scrafton to do with my father's flight? That's all I ask--that's +all I want to know." + +"I cannot tell you what you want to know." + +"Cannot," he said gently, "or dare not?" + +"Cannot!" she cried, and was on her feet with the word, her burning +face flung back and her grey eyes flashing indignation. + +Harry bowed. + +"That is enough for me," he said, "and I apologise for those last +words--but you would understand them if you had heard all that passed +this morning." + +"I do not want to know what passed. My father's affairs are not +necessarily mine. I cannot tell you what you want to know because--I do +not know myself." + +"You have made that clear to me," said Harry, staring out of the window +and through the fog. He could see the gate with the ridiculous name +still painted upon it. It stood wide open as he had left it in his +haste. He thought of the first time he had seen it and entered by it; +he thought of the second time, which had also been the last; and all at +once he thought of a question asked upon the other side of the gate, +and never answered, nor repeated, nor yet remembered, from that day to +this. + +He turned to his companion. + +"You once told me that you knew my father?" + +"Yes, I knew him." + +"You have seen him here in this house?" + +"Yes." + +"I am going to ask you what I asked you once before. You did not answer +then. I entreat you to do so now. When was the last time you saw my +father in this house?" + +The girl drew back in dismay; not a syllable came from her parted lips. + +"Was it since I asked you the question last?" cried Harry, his +imagination at its wildest work in a moment. + +"No." + +"Was it after he was supposed to have disappeared?" + +"No." + +"Was it after he left my mother up north?" + +Miss Lowndes turned away, but there was a mirror over the mantelpiece, +and in it he could see her scarlet anguish. Harry set his teeth. He +must know the truth--the truth came first. + +"So he was here on his way through town. I understood it was my mother +who saw him last. I have to thank you--I do so from my heart--for +setting me so far upon the right track. Oh, I know what it must be to +you to have such things forced from you! I hate to press you like this. +No, Miss Lowndes, duty or no duty, you have only to say the word, and I +will leave you alone." He could not bear the sight of her quivering +shoulders, of the pretty pink ear that was all her hands now let him +see of her face. Unconsciously, however, he had made his strongest +appeal in his latest words; his magnanimity fired that of the girl, his +consideration touched her to the quick, and she turned to him with +noble impulse in her frank, wet eyes. + +"I will tell you of the last time I saw your father," she cried, "on +one condition. You are to question me no more when I have finished." + +Harry took her hand. + +"I promise," he said, and released it instantly. It was no time to +think of her. He must think only of his purpose--his duty--his sacred +obligation as a son. + +"It was on Easter Eve," said his friend steadily. "I was up in my +room--it was just dinner-time--and I saw him come in at the gate." She +could not conceal a shudder. "He looked terrible--terrible--so sad and +so old! My father must have seen him too. I heard their voices, but I +did not hear what they said; my father lowered his voice, and I thought +I heard him telling Mr. Ringrose to do the same. It was all I did hear. +My father came upstairs and said a business friend had come +unexpectedly, and would I mind not coming down? So my dinner was sent +up to me, and afterwards in the dark I saw them go together to the +gate; and at the very gate they met that dreadful man--that man whose +face alone is enough to haunt one. Oh, you know him better than any of +us! You are a master in the same school." + +"Not now," said Harry. "I left yesterday on that man's account. Didn't +he come here yesterday to tell your father?" + +"Not here. He may have been to the new offices. I saw last night there +had been some unpleasantness. Unpleasantness! If you knew what we have +suffered from that monster! One reason why we got in such difficulties +was because he was always coming----" She checked herself suddenly, +with a gesture of disgust and of some underlying emotion. + +"And is that all?" asked Harry gently. "Am I to know nothing beyond +that meeting at the gate?" + +"No, I will tell you the very last I saw of your father--and I will +tell you what I think. The very last I saw of him was when they all +three went out together after talking for a few minutes in the +dining-room below mine. I did not hear a word. What I think is--may God +forgive me, whether I am right or wrong--that the flight was arranged +in those few minutes." + +"You think your father knew all about it?" + +"I cannot help thinking that." + +"When did he come back?" + +The girl turned white. + +"Your promise!" she gasped. "You promised to ask no more questions!" + +"I see," said Harry, grimly. "Your father crossed the Channel with +mine. This is news indeed!" + +"It is not!" cried Miss Lowndes. "I don't admit it. I don't know it. I +don't believe it. He told me he had been up in Scotland; he was always +going up to Scotland then. Oh, why do you try to wring more from me +than I know? I have told you all I know for a fact. Why do you break +your promise?" + +"I didn't mean to," he answered brokenly. "And yet--it was my duty--to +my poor father." + +"Your father is gone," she cried. "Spare mine--and me." + +"Do you mean that he is--dead?" + +She looked at him an instant with startled eyes, as though his had read +the secret suspicion of her heart; then with a wild sob, "I do not +know, I do not know," she cried piteously. With that she burst into +tears. He tried to soothe her. "Leave me--leave me," was all her +answer, and in his helplessness he turned to do so--to leave her bowed +down and weeping passionately--weeping as he had never seen woman weep +before--in the chair from which she had risen to welcome him--with that +foolish paper still lying crumpled at her feet. + +It was so he saw her when he turned again at the door, for a last look +at his friend. The white fog pressed against the panes; a little mist +there was in the room, but the fire burnt very brightly, and against +the glow were those small ears pink with shame, those strong hands +racked with anguish, that fine head bowed low, that lissom figure bent +double in the beautiful abandon of a woman's grief. Young blood took +fire. He forgot everything but her. He could not and he would not leave +her so; in an instant his arms were about her, he was kissing her hair. + +"I love you--I love you--I love you!" he whispered. "Let us think of +nothing else. If we are never to see each other again, thank God I have +told you that!" + +She pushed him back in horror. + +"But it is dreadful, if it is true," she said; and yet she held her +breath until he vowed it was. + +"I have loved you for months," he said, "though I didn't know it at +first. I never meant to love you. I couldn't help myself--it makes me +love you all the more." And his arms were round her once more, in the +first earnest passion of his life, in the first sweet flood of that +passion. + +"If you love me," she whispered, "will you ask no more questions of +me--or of anybody? They will not bring your father back. They may only +implicate--my ather--just as he is coming through his hard, hard +struggles. Can you not leave it in the hands of Providence--for my +sake? It is all I ask; and I think--if you do--it may all come +right--some day." + +"With you?" he cried. "With you and me?" + +"Who knows?" she answered. "You may not care for me so long; but when +there are no more mysteries--well, yes--perhaps." + +"Shall I ever see you meanwhile?" + +"Not until there are no more mysteries--or quarrels." + +"Yet you will not let me try to clear them up." + +"I want you to leave them in the hands of Providence--for my sake." + +"It is hard!" + +"But if you love me you will promise." + + * * * * * + +The cab was still waiting in the mist. Harry sprang into it, wild with +unhidden grief, as one fresh from a death-bed. His perplexity was +returning--his conscience was beginning to gnaw--yet one difficulty was +solved. + +He had promised. + + * * * * * + +A hansom stood at the curb below the flats; the porter was taking down +the luggage; a lady and a gentleman were on the stairs. + +"I hope, for every reason, that we shall find him in," the gentleman +was saying. "If not I must wait a little, for I feel that a few words +from me may be of value to him at this juncture, quite apart from the +little proposal I have to make." + +"I would not count on his accepting it," the lady ventured to observe. + +"My dear Mary----" + +Uncle Spencer got no further. Harry's arms were round his mother's +neck. And in a few moments they were all three in the flat, where the +porter's wife had the fires lighted and everything comfortable in +response to a telegram from Mrs. Ringrose. + +"But we must have the gas lit," cried the lady. "I want to look at you, +my dear, and I cannot in this fog." + +"It'll keep, mother, it'll keep," said Harry, who had his own reasons +for not courting a close inspection. + +"I quite agree with Henry," said Mr. Walthew. "To light the gas before +it is actually dark is an extravagance which _I_ cannot afford. I do +not permit it in my house, Mary." Harry promptly struck a match. + +"Come, my boy, and let me have a look at you," said Mrs. Ringrose when +the blinds were drawn. She drew his face close to hers. "Let him say +what he likes," she whispered: "I have been with them all this time. +Never mind, my darling," she cried aloud; "it must have been a horrid +place, and I am thankful to have you back." + +Mr. Walthew prepared to say what he liked, his pulpit the hearthrug, +and his theme the fiasco of the day before. + +"I must say, Mary, that your sentiments are astounding. Naturally he +looks troubled. He has lost the post it took him four months to secure. +I confess, Henry, that I, for my part, was less surprised this morning +than when I heard you had obtained your late situation. With the very +serious limitations which I learnt from your own lips, however, you +could scarcely hope to hold your own in a scholastic avocation. I told +you so, in effect, at the time, if you remember. Was it the Greek or +the mathematics that caused your downfall?" + +Harry had not said what it was in his letter. He now explained, with a +grim smile as he thought of _Mangnall's Questions_ and _Little Steps to +Great Events_. He described Scrafton's brutality in a few words, and in +fewer still the scene of the day before. His mother's indignation was +even louder than her applause. Uncle Spencer looked horrified at them +both. + +"So it was insubordination!" cried he. "You took the side of the boys +against their master and your elder! Really, Henry, there is no more to +be said. Your mother's sympathy I consider most misplaced. I tell you +frankly that you need expect none from me." + +"Did I say I expected any, Uncle Spencer?" + +"That," said Mr. Walthew, "is a remark worthy of your friend Mr. +Lowndes, the most impudent fellow I ever met in my life." + +"He is no longer a friend of mine," said Harry Ringrose. + +"I am glad to hear it, Henry." + +"Do you mean that you have quarrelled?" cried Mrs. Ringrose. + +"For good, mother; you shall hear about it afterwards. I can't forgive +a liar, and no more must you. I have bowled Lowndes out in a thundering +lie--and told him what I thought of him--that's all." + +Mrs. Ringrose looked troubled, but inquisitive for particulars. Her +brother did not smile, but for an instant his expression ceased to be +that of a professional mute. + +"'Liar' and 'lie,'" said he, "are stronger language than I approve of, +Henry; but if anybody deserves such epithets I feel sure it is Mr. +Gordon Lowndes. The man impressed me as a falsehood-teller when he came +to my house, and I feel sure that the prospectus of this new Crofter +Company, which reached me this morning, is nothing but a tissue of +untruths from beginning to end. A thoroughly bad man, Henry, a lost and +irredeemable sinner, who might have dragged you with him to fire +eternal!" + +"I did not find him thoroughly bad, Uncle Spencer," said his nephew +civilly. "On the contrary, I believe there is more good in him than in +most of us; but--you can't depend upon him, and there you are." + +"Yet you would defend him!" exclaimed Mr. Walthew, with a sneer. "Well, +well, I have no time to argue with you, Henry; _my_ time is precious, +so may I ask how you propose to fill yours now? You have tried and +failed for the City; you have tried and failed for the Law; and now you +have tried schoolmastering, and failed still more conspicuously. What +do you think of trying next?" + +"Something that I have been trying for some time without failing so +badly as at the other things." + +"Literature!" cried Mrs. Ringrose. + +"Literature, forsooth!" echoed the clergyman, before Harry had time to +repudiate the word. "I suppose, Mary, that you are alluding to the +productions you have shown me in the paper with the unspeakable name? +Well, Henry, if that's your literature, let's say no more about it; +only I am almost sorry you did not fail there, too. You cannot, +however, devote all or even much of your time to such buffoonery, and +it was to speak to you about some permanent occupation that I +accompanied your mother this afternoon. What should you say to the +Civil Service?" + +"I couldn't possibly get into it, uncle." + +"Into the higher branches you certainly could not, Henry. But a +second-class clerkship in one of the lower branches I think you might +obtain, with ordinary application and perseverance. I am only sorry it +did not occur to me before." + +"What are the lower branches?" asked Harry, doubtfully. + +"The Excise and the Customs are two." + +"And the salary?" + +"From eighty-five to two hundred pounds in the Excise, which is the +service I recommend. I have been making inquiries about it this +morning. A parishioner of mine is sending his son in for it. The lad is +to attend classes at Exeter Hall, under the auspices of the Young Men's +Christian Association, and I understand that mensuration is the only +really difficult subject. What I propose to do, Henry, is to present +you to-morrow with a ticket for the course of these classes which +commences next week." + +"You are very kind, Uncle Spencer----" + +Mr. Walthew waved his hand as though not totally unaware of it. + +"But----" + +"But what?" cried Uncle Spencer. + +"I believe before very, very long I should make as much money with my +pen." + +"You decline my offer?" + +"I am exceedingly grateful for it." + +"Yet you elect to go on writing rubbish for an extremely vulgar paper +for the rest of your days." + +"Not for the rest of my days, I hope, Uncle Spencer. I mean it to be a +stepping-stone to better things." + +"So you think you can earn eighty-five pounds a year by your pen!" +sneered the clergyman, buttoning up his overcoat. + +"I mean to try," said Harry, provoked into a firmer tone. + +"Is this your deliberate decision?" + +"It is." + +"Then I am sorry I wasted my time by coming so far to hold out a +helping hand to you. It is the last time, Henry. You may go your own +way after this. Only, when your pen brings you to the poorhouse, don't +come to me--that's all!" + +Harry contrived to keep his temper without effort. Pinpricks do not +hurt a man with a mortal wound. As for Mrs. Ringrose, she had fled +before the proposal which she knew was coming, and of the result of +which she felt equally sure. But she came to her door to bid the +offended clergyman good-bye, and at last her boy and she were alone. He +flung his arms round her neck. + +"I am never going to leave you again!" he cried passionately. "I am not +going to look for any more work. I am going to stop at home and write +for _T.T._ until I can teach myself to write something better. I am +going to work for you and for us both. I am going to do my work beside +you, and you're going to help me. We ought never to have separated. +Nothing shall ever separate us again!" + +"Until you marry," murmured Mrs. Ringrose. + +"I will never marry!" cried her boy. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +YOUNG INK. + + +So it was that Harry Ringrose took finally to his pen towards the close +of the most momentous year of his existence; for four years from that +date there was but one sort of dramatic interest in his life. There was +the dramatic interest of the electric bell; and that was all. + +In the early days, when the roll of the little steel drum broke a +silence or cut short a speech, the eyes of mother and son would meet +involuntarily with the same look. Her needles would cease clicking. His +pen would spring from the unfinished word. Each had the other's +thought, and neither uttered it. Many a man had fled the country in his +panic, to pluck up courage and return in his cooler senses. Many a man +effaced himself for a time, but few for ever. The ironmaster's last +letter confessed flight and promised self-effacement. He might have +thought better of it--that might be he at the bell. One of the two +within got over this feeling in time; the other never did. + +The dogged plodder at the desk endured other heartburnings of which the +little steel drum beat the signal. Knockers these flats had not, and +the postman usually rang a second before he thrust the letter through +the door. It was a breathless second for Harry Ringrose. He developed +an incredibly fine ear for what came through. He was never deceived in +the thud of a rejected manuscript. He used to vow that a proof fell +with peculiar softness, and, later, that a press-cutting was +unmistakable because you could not hear it fall. He had an essay on the +subject in his second book, published when he was twenty-five. + +His first book had been one of the minor successes of its season. It +had made a small, a very small, name for Harry, but had developed his +character more than his fame. It is an ominous coincidence, however, +that in conception his first book was as barefaced and as cold-blooded +as his first verses in _Uncle Tom's Magazine_. + +For nearly three years he had been writing up, for as many guineas as +possible, those African anecdotes which he had brought home with him +for conversational purposes. In this way he had wasted much excellent +material, to which, however, he was not too proud to return when he +knew better. Heaven knows how many times he used the lion in the +moonlight and his friend the Portuguese murderer of Zambesi blacks. One +would have thought--he thought himself--that he had squeezed the last +drop from his African orange, when one fine day he saw the way to make +the pulp pay better than the juice. It was not his own way. It was the +way of the greatest humorist then living. Harry took the whole of his +two years abroad, and eyed them afresh from that humorist's point of +view, as he apprehended it. He saw the things the great man would have +seized upon, and the way it seemed to Harry he would have treated them. +The result was a comic lion in the moonlight, and a more or less +amusing murderer. He had treated these things tragically hitherto. + +The book purported to be fact, and was certainly not fiction, for +which, indeed, our young author had no definite aptitude. It earned him +an ambiguous compliment from various reviewers who insisted on dubbing +him the English So-and-so; but it was lucky for Harry that the new +humour was then an unmade phrase. His humour was not new, but that +would not have saved it from the category. It was keen enough, however, +in its way, and not too desperately subtle for the man on the +knifeboard. Yet Harry's first book, after "going" for a few weeks, +showed a want of staying power, and was but a very moderate success +after all. A few papers hailed Mr. Ringrose as the humorist for whom +England had been sighing since the death of Charles Dickens, and +predicted that his book would be the book of the season and of many +seasons to come. Such enthusiasm was inevitable from organs which let +loose at least one genius a week; but Harry did not realise the +inevitability all at once. For a week or two he could not give his name +in a shop without a wholly unnecessary blush; while he took his mother +to look at empty houses in West End squares, thanks to indiscriminate +praise from irresponsible quarters. On the whole, however, Harry had no +reason to complain of the treatment accorded to his first-born; and, to +descend to lower details, he sold the copyright for a small sum, which +was, nevertheless, quite as much as the publishers could possibly have +made out of it. + +But it was in indirect ways that this book did most for Harry Ringrose. +It made new friends for him at a time when his acquaintance was badly +in need of some fresh blood. Years of immersion in solitary work must +narrow and may warp a man; and the almost exclusive companionship of +his dear mother, whose only interest he was in the present, and who +vastly overrated his merits, was a joy too great not to be purchased at +a price. It kept the lad's heart tender and his life of fair report, +but it tended to monopolise his sympathies, and it did not increase his +knowledge of the outside world. In the world of letters he had made but +one friend in those first three years. This was a youth of Harry's own +age, who, with a board-school education, was on the staff of an evening +paper, in a position which the public-school boy was certainly not +competent to fill. Harry stormed this fortress with a little article on +"Portuguese Africa"--which the Editor would label "By an +Afrikander"--and the acquaintance was struck up outside that +gentleman's door. It ripened in a bar to which the young fellows used +to repair whenever Harry was in the Strand. There, over a glass of +bitter--or two--or three--he used to hear at first hand of the great +novelists whom he longed to meet, but with whom his friend the +journalist seemed on enviable terms. It was merely that the latter was +in the heart of the big game, whereas Harry was playing a very little +game of his own, in an exceedingly remote corner of the field. + +His book was not a huge success, but it succeeded well enough to take +him out of his corner. His friend the journalist (who managed to review +the thing himself in his paper) wrote to tell Harry of a distinguished +lady who was so enchanted with it that she begged him to take the +author to see her. Harry had no means of knowing that the lady's +enchantment was as chronic as the enthusiasm of the paper which had +hailed him as a genius, and that the demand was not for himself, but +for the latest name. He was still a very simple-minded person, and he +waited on this lady with all alacrity, and under her wing made his bow +in the sort of society of which he had heard with envy in the Gaiety +bar. It cannot be said, however, that he did anybody much credit; he +had been too long in his corner, and had an awkward manner when not +perfectly at home. Yet a number of other ladies asked him to go and see +them, and one invited him to dinner at her smart house--where the +wretched Harry distinguished himself by freezing into a solid block of +self-consciousness and hardly opening his mouth. + +But it was all very valuable experience, and, instead of two or three, +he knew a good many people by the end of that winter. He became a +member of a club, and got on intimate terms with men whose names and +work had become familiar to him in these years. They enlarged his +sympathies--they extended his boundaries on every side. And they made +him know himself as he had not known himself before. All at once he +realised that he had fewer interests than other men, that his nose had +been too close to his own grindstone, that the mind he had been slaving +to develop had grown narrow in the process. It was a rather bitter +discovery, until one day it struck him there was another side to +narrowness, and he sat down and began his "Plea for Narrow Minds" on +the spot. This article secured a better place in the periodicals than +anything Harry Ringrose had then written. It attracted some attention +during the month of its appearance, and even on republication in his +second book. But it was generally considered a frivolous adventure in +mere paradox (on a par with a companion paper "On Enjoying Bad +Health"), whereas it was really a reaction against the writer's own +self-criticism. + +"Cant is not necessarily humbug," declared our scribe, "and there is +probably less hypocrisy in the cant of breadth than in any other kind +of cant. It may spring from a laudable ambition to be on the side of +the good angels in all things. But it is apt to crystallise in a pose. +For my part, when I meet a typically broad-minded man, who sees good in +everybody and merit in everything, either I suspect his sincerity or I +doubt his depth. I want to know if he is saying (_a_) what he thinks, +or (_b_) what he thinks he ought to think. Either he is insincere and a +prig, or he means what he says and is shallow. Those wonderfully wide +sympathies are too often sympathy spread thin. The odds are against +your being very deep as well as very broad." + +There were those critics who remarked that the sapient essayist came +under both his own categories, whereupon Harry lay awake all night +wondering whether he did. And it was "A Plea for Narrow Minds" that +drew from Miss Lowndes the letter which she never posted, but which +came into Harry's hands long afterwards. She agreed with him in part, +but by no means on the whole; in fact, her letter was a remonstrance, +written impulsively in a dainty boudoir of Berkeley Square, and found +long afterwards in an escritoire. Harry often wondered whether the +woman he loved ever read what he wrote. She read everything he signed, +and would never have dropped _Tommy Tiddler_ had she dreamt he was +still a comic singer in its columns. But Harry saw nothing and heard +but little of his quondam friends. He knew they lived in Berkeley +Square--he knew they were very rich. He had heard of the dividend the +Crofter Fisheries were paying, and what he would have to give now for +the shares which he had committed to the flames. He had also read +_Truth's_ opinion of the concern, and wondered why the action for so +obvious a libel hung fire. He sometimes wondered, too, how it was that +he never met either the father or the daughter from whom he had severed +with such different emotions on the same thick November day. He did not +know that the daughter once fled from a party on hearing he was +expected--and was sorry afterwards. + +Curiously enough, the very article which failed to gain the good +opinion he coveted most, was so fortunate as to secure that of Harry's +most severe and least respected critic. The Reverend Spencer Walthew +read religion between the lines, and, having written to thank his +nephew for his spirited though veiled attack on the Broad Church party, +concluded by begging him to have a go at the Ritualists. + +"I have seldom had a more unexpected pleasure," wrote the Evangelical +divine, "than you have given me by this shrewd blow against the vice of +tolerance and the ultra-charitable spirit which I regard as one of the +great dangers of the age. We want no charity for the heretic and the +ritualist--with whom I trust you will deal unmercifully without delay. +I cannot conclude, Henry, without telling you what a relief it is to me +to see you at last turning your attention to serious subjects. I feel +sure that they are the only ones worthy of a Christian's pen. I have +never concealed from you my pain and disgust at the levity of almost +all your writings hitherto, although I have tried to do justice to the +literary quality, which, on the whole, has been distinctly better than +might have been expected. It is the greater pleasure to me, therefore, +to recognise the serious purpose and the lofty aim of your latest +essay. May you never again descend to 'humorous' accounts of your +'adventures,' or to inferior versifying for papers which are not to be +seen in respectable houses!" + +Harry, however, had never ceased his connection with the _Tiddler_, +although it was not one of the things he mentioned to the notorious +interviewer who came to patronise him in those days, and to whom he +caught his mother showing the parody on Gray's Elegy. _T.T._ had been a +good friend to Harry at the foot of the hill, and he was not going to +desert just yet, even if he could have afforded to do so. Of the £51 +10s. 9d. which he managed to make in the first year, £34 4s. was from +the _Tiddler's_ coffers; of the third year's £223 14s. 6d. (a mighty +leap from the intermediate year), £55 12s. was from the same genial +source. And so we find him towards the end of the fourth year--not +quite such a good one as the last--fighting hard to touch the second +hundred for the second time, and writing verses in his pyjamas at +midnight at the close of a long day's work on an ungrateful book. + +The flat is no longer that in which Harry Ringrose found his mother; it +is a slightly larger one in the same mansions on a higher floor; and +instead of Weber's Last Waltz, a lusty youth, who arrived there on the +same night as Harry, supplies the unsolicited accompaniment inseparable +from life in a flat. + +Only one room has been gained by the change; but in it sleeps a +servant, an old retainer of the family; and the sitting-room is larger, +so that there is ample room in it for the rather luxurious desk which +Harry has bought himself, and at which we find him seated, his back to +the books and his nose in his rhyming dictionary, taking his most +trivial task seriously, as was ever his wont, on a warm night in the +middle of September. + +He is a little altered--not much. He is thicker set; the legs in the +pyjamas are less lean. His face is older, but still extremely young. He +has tried to grow a moustache, but failed, and given it up; and the two +blots of whisker show that he has no candid girl friend now; and the +blue stubble on his chin means that his mother is away. His black hair +inclines to length, not altogether because he thinks it looks +interesting, but chiefly because he has been too busy to get it cut. He +has not yet affected the _pince-nez_ or the spectacles of the average +literary man. But he is smoking at his desk; he will be smoking +presently in his bed; and on a small table stand a bottle of whisky and +a syphon. + +Suddenly a ring at the bell. + +At half-past twelve at night a prolonged tattoo on the little steel +drum! + +Harry was greatly startled, as a man may easily be who is working at +night after working all day. Yet he would have been much more startled +the September before. + +Since then his books had come out, and he had made a number of friends. +Only the night before a play-actor had looked in after his "show," and +they had sat up reading Keats against Shelley, and capping Swinburne +with Rossetti, until the whisky was finished and daylight shamed them +in their cups. Harry thoroughly enjoyed a Bohemian life in his mother's +absence, though indeed she let him do exactly as he liked when she was +there. Was it the actor again, or was it.... + +Not for months had the old fancy seized him with the ringing of the +bell. It was only the lateness of the hour which brought it back +to-night. Yet the look with which the young fellow rose was one that he +wore often enough when there were none to see. It was a look of utter +misery barbed with shame unspeakable and undying. Sometimes the mother +had seen it--and taken the shame and the misery for his share of their +common hidden grief. She little knew! + +The gas was burning in the passage, but lowered on the common landing +outside. Harry could see nothing through the ground glass which formed +the upper portion of the door. He flung it open. A tall man was +standing on the mat. + +"Good evening, Mr. Ringrose," said he, and took a tremendous pinch of +snuff as Harry drew back in dismay. + +It was Jeremiah Scrafton. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +SCRAFTON'S STORY. + + +Harry had not heard of him for nearly four years, had not set eyes on +him since their scuffle at the school. But only a few days later +Leonard Bickersteth had called at the flat with strange news of +Scrafton. He had never returned to the Hollies; he had disappeared from +his lodgings; it was impossible to trace his whereabouts. The motive of +his flight, on the other hand, seemed pretty clear. Mrs. Bickersteth +had been questioning the boys, with the result that Harry's charges +were sufficiently proved, as Scrafton must have known they would be, +and hence his sudden desertion. Leonard Bickersteth had proceeded, on +his mother's behalf, to make Harry an apology and an offer which did +that lady equal credit. But the younger man was too perturbed either to +accept the one or to decline the other as cordially or as civilly as he +desired. He had his own explanation of Scrafton's flight. It had been a +nightmare to him ever since. And here was the central figure of that +nightmare standing before him in the flesh, with his snuff-box in his +hand, and the old ferocious grin upon his pallid glistening face. + +"Surprised to see me, are you?" cried Scrafton, taking another pinch. + +"I am," said Harry, looking the other in the face, and yet reflecting +its pallor. + +"You'll be still more surprised when you hear what I've come to tell +you. Ain't you going to ask me in?" + +"Come in by all means, if you wish," said Harry, coldly. + +"I do wish," was the answer. "Are you alone?" + +"Absolutely," said Harry, as he closed the door and led the way into +the sitting-room. + +"I thought you lived with your mother?" + +"She is away." + +"Do you keep a servant?" + +"Yes." + +"Not next door, I hope?" said Scrafton, tapping the wall to gauge its +thickness. + +"No, at the other end of the flat; and she's used to late comers." + +Scrafton glanced at Harry obliquely out of his light-blue eyes. Then +they fell on the whisky bottle, and he favoured Harry with a different +look. + +"Help yourself." + +Scrafton did so with his left hand so clasped about the glass that it +was impossible to see how much he took. His hand seemed bonier than +formerly, but it was no less grimy, and the fingernails were still +rimmed with black. He was dressed as of old, only better. It was a +moderately new frock-coat, and as he sat down with his glass Harry saw +that he did wear socks. His beard and moustache were whiter; they +showed the snuff-stains all the more. + +It was the rocking-chair this man was desecrating with his pestilent +person; while Harry, having shut the door, had reseated himself at his +desk, but turned his chair so that he sat facing Scrafton, with an +elbow on his blotting-pad. + +"I have come," said the visitor, putting his glass down empty, "to tell +you the truth about your father." + +"I thought as much." + +"The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," continued +Scrafton, eying the bottle wistfully. "Do you suppose now that he is +living or dead?" + +"I have no idea." + +"He is dead." + +Harry did not open his mouth. He could not appreciate the news of his +father's death, but then he would have been equally slow to realise +that he was alive. So completely had the missing ironmaster passed out +of the world of ascertainable fact and of positive statement; so dead +was he already to his son. + +"When did he die?" asked the latter presently; and his voice was +unmoved. + +"On the night between Good Friday and Easter Day." + +"This year?" + +"No; over four years ago." + +Harry leapt to his feet. + +"Where was it he died?" + +"At sea----" + +"At sea!" + +"Between Newhaven and Dieppe." + +"But how--how?" + +"He was murdered." + +Harry seemed to have known it all along. He could not utter another +syllable. But his wild eyes and his outstretched hands asked their +question plainly. + +"By your friend Gordon Lowndes," said Scrafton coolly. + +Harry came down heavily in his chair, and his hands lay on the desk, +and his face lay in his hands; but he was acutely conscious, and he +heard the furtive trickle as Scrafton seized the opportunity of +replenishing his glass. The man drank. To anybody but an innocent it +might have been obvious four years ago. He was one of those whom drink +made pallid and ferocious; to get more from him while still sober, +Harry started up as suddenly as he had subsided, causing the other to +spill some liquor in his beard. + +"Take all you want," cried Harry, "only tell me everything first. I +must know everything now. I have suspected it so long." + +He leant forward to listen, this time with an elbow on each knee, but +with his face again buried in his hands. Scrafton kept a gleaming eye +upon him, as he dried his beard with his coat-sleeve, and supplemented +the spirit with a couple of his most sickening inhalations. + +"I will begin at the beginning," said he; "but you needn't have any +fears about my not reaching the end, for I've never had less than a +bottle a night when I could get it, and the man doesn't breathe who +ever saw Jeremiah Scrafton the worse. What you have here is only enough +to make me thirsty, and I may want another bottle broached before I'm +done. Meanwhile, to begin at the beginning, you must know that it is +some years now since I made our friend's acquaintance at Richmond. We +spotted each other one night by the river, and though he was old enough +to be your father, and I was old enough to be his, I'm hanged if it +wasn't like a man and a woman! He took to me, and I took to him. We +were both clever men, and we were both poor men. His head was full of +ways of making his pile, and my head was full of one way worth all his +put together. You're a dunce at mathematics, Master Ringrose. Have you +ever played roulette?" + +"Never." + +"Then you wouldn't understand my system, even if I was to tell it you, +and I wouldn't do that for a thousand pounds. Lowndes has offered me +more than that for it--wanted to form a syndicate to work it--offered +me half profits; but not for Jeremiah! I'll double the capital that's +put in, and I'll pay it back with cent. per cent. interest, but I'll +rot before I do more. I told him so years ago, and I've never budged. I +never told him or anybody else my system, and I never will. I may not +live to work it now. I may never get another chance of the capital. But +if I don't benefit from it, nobody else ever shall; it's my secret, and +it'll go with me to the worm. One comfort is that nobody else is likely +to hit upon it--no other living mathematician has the brain!" + +Harry could not help looking up; and there sat Scrafton in his mother's +chair, his head thrown sublimely back, a grin of exultation amid the +rank hair upon his face, and the light of drunken genius in his fiery +blue eyes. There was something arrestive about the man; a certain vile +distinction; a certain demoniac fascination, which diverted Harry's +attention in spite of himself. It was with an effort that he shook the +creature from his brain, and asked how all this affected his poor +father's fate. + +"There is a weak point common to every system," replied Scrafton, "and +want of money was the one weak point of mine. Without capital it was no +use." + +"Well?" + +"With a thousand I'd have backed myself to bring it off; with five it +was a moral certainty; with ten a dead certainty. Now do you see where +your father came in?" + +"It was ten thousand pounds Lowndes got him!" + +"And twenty I'd have handed him, cent. per cent., on what he put in." + +"Go on," said Harry, hoarsely. + +Scrafton grinned until his yellow fangs gleamed through their snuffy +screen; he took another pinch before complying. "It's waste of breath," +said he, "for you must see for yourself what happened next. Lowndes +knows I've been waiting all my life for a man with ten thousand pounds +and the nerve to trust me, but he comes to make sure of me before going +down to your father with the ten thousand and the dodge of making it +twenty. I'm his man, of course; but your father won't listen to it; as +good as shows our friend the door, but keeps the money, and says he'll +pay it back himself, and then fail like an honest man. Back comes old +Lowndes to Richmond, with his tail between his legs, on the Thursday +night. Next day's Good Friday, and your father spends it at +home--thinking about it--thinking about it--saying good-bye to +everything--making up his mind to fail next day. All right, I'll stop +if you like; he couldn't do it, that's all; and on the Saturday +evening, just as I was going to ask Lowndes if the crash had come, and +if we couldn't run down together and try again before it did, who +should I meet coming out of the gate but Lowndes and the man himself! +He'd caved in of his own accord. I was the very man they wanted, and in +five minutes we were all three on our way to the station. It was then +after eight, I recollect, but we just caught a fast train to Waterloo, +and from there we galloped to London Bridge, and jumped into the +boat-train as she was moving out of the station at nine sharp." + +"Which boat-train?" asked Harry suspiciously. It was his first chance +of cross-examination. Up to this point every statement tallied with the +statements of Fanny Lowndes, made now nearly four years ago, but +unforgettable in the smallest detail. And for an instant he was back in +the little room at Richmond, the bright fire within, the white fog +without, and the face of his beloved red with shame and wet with agony. +Good God, what a barrier it had been! Her father the murderer of his! +He remembered that the thought had occurred to him, but only in his +wild moments, never seriously. And she must have suspected--might even +have known it--at the time! + +"What did you say?" said Harry, for, in the sudden tumult of his +thoughts, Scrafton's answer had been lost upon him. + +"It was the train for Newhaven, that runs in connection with the boat +to Dieppe." + +"What was your destination?" asked Harry, alert and suspicious once +more. + +"Monte Carlo." + +"That was no way to go." + +"It was an unusual way; your father insisted upon it on that account; +he was the less likely to be seen and recognised." + +Harry started up, mixed some whisky and soda water for himself, and +tossed it off at a gulp. + +"Now," he said, "tell me the worst--tell me the end--and you shall +finish the bottle." + +"As you like," said the other. "It isn't the most hospitable way of +treating a man; but as you like--especially as there's very little to +tell. I'll tell you exactly what I saw and discovered; neither more nor +less; for, first of all, you must understand that we were all three to +travel separately. I went third in the train and second on the boat, +but they took first-class tickets right through. They were not to look +at me, nor I at them. At Newhaven I saw them, but turned my back. They +were both very quiet, and I foresaw no trouble. Of foul play I never +dreamt until Lowndes stole into the second saloon and touched me on the +shoulder. Nobody saw him, for it was a nasty night, and all but me were +sick and prostrate. But I was practising my little combination with a +pencil and a bit of paper, and I tell you his face gave me a turn. He +said it was sea-sickness; but I knew better even then. + +"I was to go aft and see Ringrose that minute. What was the matter? He +was trying to back out--swearing he'd return by the next boat and face +his creditors like a man. Would I go and reassure him of the absolute +certainty of doubling his ten thousand? So I got up, and Lowndes led +the way to the private cabin your father had taken for the night. + +"And a wicked night it was! I recollect holding on for dear life as we +made our way aft along the gallery where the private berths were. On +one side the rail hung over the sea, on the other a line of doors and +portholes hung over us, and underneath you had a wet deck at an angle +that felt like forty-five. It was very dark, just light enough to see +that we had the lee-side down there to ourselves. And when Lowndes +opened one of the doors and climbed into one of the cabins he nearly +fell out again on top of me. Or so he pretended. The cabin was empty. I +pushed him in and shut the door, and stood with my back to it. Your +father had vanished; yet there were his ulster and his travelling cap +on the settee; and Lowndes's teeth were chattering in his head. + +"'He's jumped overboard!' says he. + +"'You pushed him over,' says I. 'You may as well make a clean breast of +it, for I see it in your face.' + +"In another minute he had confessed the whole thing. Your father had +been leaning over that rail, feeling fit to die, and swearing he was +going back by the next boat. In a fit of passion Lowndes had tipped him +over the side, and in the black darkness, and the noise of the wind and +the engines, he had gone down without a cry. That was the end of Henry +Ringrose. He was drowned in the Channel in the small hours of Easter +Day, four years and a half ago. Instead of a runaway swindler he was a +murdered man--and now you know who murdered him!" + +Harry never spoke. His face was still in his hands. + +Scrafton opened his snuff-box and took an impatient pinch. + +"I tell you that your father is a murdered man," he cried, "and Gordon +Lowndes is his murderer!" + +Harry looked up with a curious smile. + +"It's a lie," said he. "He wrote to my mother from Dieppe." + +"Show me the letter." + +"I can't; and wouldn't if I could." + +"It was a forgery." + +"But I have seen it." + +"I can't help that." + +"I thought it might be a forgery until I came to examine it," admitted +Harry. + +"It was one. You can only have examined the first page." + +"What do you mean?" + +"It was genuine; the next was not. The letter was written on both sides +of half a sheet, and the other half torn off. If you could get hold of +it I would show you in a minute." + +"You shall show me!" cried Harry Ringrose. "If you prove what you +say----" + +He checked himself with a gesture of misery and bewilderment. What was +he to do if the man proved what he said? What would it be his duty to +do? + +He knew where his mother kept the letters she most prized, the ones +that he had himself written her from Africa, and this last letter from +her husband. He went into her room and broke open her desk without +compunction. It was no time for nice scruples on so vital a point. And +yet when he returned to the other room, and found Scrafton smacking his +lips over the tumbler that he had filled and almost drained in those +few moments, it seemed a sacrilege to let such eyes see such a letter. +Instinctively he drew back from those outstretched unclean talons; but +Scrafton only burst into hoarse laughter. + +"Don't I tell you it's more than half a forgery?" cried he. "Oh, keep +it yourself, by all manner of means. I've seen it before, thank you. +But it's waste of time looking at the front page; that's genuine, I +tell you; turn over and try the other." + +"I believe that's genuine too." + +"Then you'd believe anything. Why, it's written in different ink, to +begin with. Hold it to the light and you'll see." + +Harry did so; and the ink on both sides looked black at first sight; +but closer inspection revealed a subtle difference. + +"It was begun in blue-black ink," gasped Harry, "and finished in some +other kind." + +"Exactly." + +"But the pen seems to have been the same." + +"It was the gold pen your father used to carry about with him in his +waistcoat pocket. But it seems he felt hot when he returned to the +berth, after writing this letter in the saloon, for I found his +waistcoat hanging on one of the hooks, and the pen was in the pocket." + +"You say 'after writing this letter.'" + +"I meant the first page of it. The second is a forgery. Look again at +both, and you will see that whereas there is a kind of regular +irregularity about the first page, due to the motion of the boat, the +irregularity of the second is a sham. It was the most difficult part to +imitate." + +Harry could see that it was so; but at these last words he looked up +suddenly from the letter. + +"You speak as though you had committed the forgery yourself," said he. + +"I did," was the calm reply. "Lowndes couldn't have used his pen like +that to save his life. Don't excite yourself, young fellow. I make no +secret that I was his accessory after the fact. I am going to confess +that in open court, and I don't much care what they do with me--so long +as they hang the dog who refused to give me a sixpence this evening." + +He glared horribly out of his now bloodshot eyes, and took snuff with a +truculent snap of his filthy fingers. + +"So that's what brings you to me?" said Harry Ringrose. "You would have +done better to take your confession straight to the police; but since +you are here you had better go on if you want to convince me. You say +my father went overboard in mid-Channel. How was it he was afterwards +seen in Dieppe?" + +Scrafton leant forward with his demon's grin. + +"He wasn't," said he. "_I_ was seen in his ulster, with his comforter +round my beard, and his travelling cap over my eyes. It was I who +walked into thin air, as the papers said, from the _café_ in Dieppe. +And it was in the _café_ the second page of the letter was written, as +you see it now. As your father wrote it, the letter finished on the +fourth page, the two in between being left blank. I finished it on the +second page, and then tore off the fourth. I have it here." + +And he produced the greasy pocket-book which he had used as a +score-book in Bushey Park. + +"Let me see it," whispered Harry. + +"Will you give me your word to return it instantly?" + +"My word of honour." + +The page of writing that was now put into Harry's trembling hands is +printed underneath the genuine beginning of his father's letter, and +above the forgery. + + "S.S. _Seine_, + "Easter Morning, + "188-- + + "My dearest Wife, + + "Half frantic with remorse, degradation, sorrow, and shame, I sit + down to write you the last letter you may ever receive from your + unhappy husband. + + "When I said good-bye to you this morning I could not tell you that + it might be good-bye for ever. I told you I was going up to town on + business. How could I tell you that the business was to take my + passage for the Continent? Yet it was nothing else, and I write + this midway between Newhaven and Dieppe, where I shall post it. + + "My wife, I could not bear to give back the ten thousand pounds + that was only half enough to save us. I am going where I hope to + + (genuine) + + double it in a night. A man is going with me who has an infallible + system; also another man who swears by the first man, and whom I + myself can trust. I know that it is a mad as well as a wicked thing + to do. I am going to gamble with other men's money--to play for my + home and for my life. Yes; if I lose, my end will be the end of + many another dishonest fool at Monte Carlo. You will never see me + again. + + "I am altogether beside myself. I am not mad, but I am near to + madness. I do not think I should have done such a wild thing in my + sane senses--and yet these men are so sure! Forgive me whether I + win or lose, whether I live or die, and let our boy profit by my + example and my end. I can say no more. My brain is on fire. I may + or may not post this. But I was obliged to tell you. God bless you! + God bless you! + + "Your distracted husband." + + (forgery) + + "be forgotten altogether, going with other men's money! I know that + it is a mad as well as a wicked thing to do. I do not think I + should have done such a wild thing in my sane senses, but I am + altogether beside myself. I am not mad, but I am near to madness. + + "Good-bye for ever. You will never see me again. Forgive me whether + I live or die; and let our boy profit by my example and my end. I + can say no more. My brain is on fire. God bless you! God bless you! + + "Your distracted husband." + +The devilish ingenuity of the fraud was not lost upon the reader. +Hardly a word, hardly a phrase was used in the forgery for which there +was not a definite model in the original, and the imitation was no +less miraculous as a whole than when taken word by word. The very +incoherence of the letter was one of its most convincing features; the +way in which it began by saying it might be "good-bye for ever," and +ended by confessing that it was, was just the way a maddened man might +choose for breaking the news of his terrible intention. + +Judged impartially, side by side, the genuine page looked no more +genuine than the other. + +The clock struck two: the younger man raised his face from a long +reverie, and there were the terrible eyes of Scrafton still upon him. +He was equally at a loss what to think, what to believe, what to do; +but all at once his eyes fell upon the "copy" on his desk; it must go +by the three o'clock post, or it would be too late for the next issue. + +Mechanically he began folding up his various contributions--punning +paragraphs--four-line quips--a set of verses that he had completed. The +other set, upon which he had been engaged on Scrafton's entry, he +tossed aside, but all that was ready he put into a long envelope, which +he addressed, weighed, and stamped as though nobody had been there. +Scrafton watched him with his grinning eyes, but leapt up and overtook +Harry as he was leaving the room. + +"You're not going out, are you?" + +"Yes, to the post." + +"What, like that?" + +"Not a soul will be about, and there's a pillar just under the +windows." + +"What is it you want to post?" + +"Nonsense for a comic paper." + +Harry held up his envelope. The other read the address, and it quenched +the suspicion in his fiery eyes, but opened them very wide. + +"So you can think of your comic paper after this!" + +"I must think of something, or I shall go mad." + +"Well, where's another bottle of whisky before you go?" + +Harry fetched one from the dining-room, and in another moment he was on +the stairs, with an overcoat over his pyjamas, and the latch-key in his +hand. His brain was in a whirl. He had no idea what to do when he +returned, what steps to take, and no clear sight of his duty by his +dead father. If he was dead, there was an end. But how could he believe +the word of that ghoul upstairs? And yet, was there anything to be +gained by his returning with the police? For the very idea had occurred +to Harry, of which Scrafton had at first suspected and then acquitted +him. + +He could see his way no farther than the posting of his "copy"; that +little commonplace necessity had come as a timely godsend to him; he +only wished the pillar was a mile instead of a yard away. + +As he emerged from the mansions a couple of men retired farther into +the shadow of the opposite houses; as he turned from the pillar-box one +of these men was crossing the road towards him, having recognised +Harry; and it was the very man of whom he was thinking--of whom he was +trying to think as his own father's murderer. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +A MASTERSTROKE. + + +"Well, Ringrose!" + +Gordon Lowndes did not look a day older since Harry had seen him last. +He wore a light cape over his evening dress, a crush-hat on his head, +and behind and below the same gold-rimmed glasses there twinkled and +trembled the shrewd eyes and the singular sharp-pointed nose. The eyes +were as full of friendship as in the earliest days of the intimacy that +had come to a violent end nearly four years ago. And they had lost the +old furtive look which had inspired vague suspicion from the first; +nothing could have been franker or kindlier than their glance; but +Harry recoiled with a ghastly face. + +The story he had just heard was still ringing in his ears. It might not +be true in every detail, but it was circumstantial, there was the proof +of the letter, and much of the rest bore the stamp of truth. Certain it +was that a foul crime had been committed, and that one of these two men +had been the other's accomplice, if not in its commission then after +the fact. And what was Lowndes doing here, and what was Scrafton doing +upstairs, unless they were accomplices still? + +A vague feeling that he had been tricked and trapped, to what end he +could not conceive, made Harry put his back to the railings, clench his +fists, and set his teeth; yet there was nothing in the other's look to +support such a theory. + +"Come, Ringrose," said he, "I think I know what's the matter! I know +whom you've got upstairs. I can guess what he's been telling you." + +"You can?" + +"Certainly I can. In point of fact, it's not guesswork at all. He was +good enough to warn me of his intention." + +"Well?" + +"He's been telling you that I did what he did himself." + +"Which of you am I to believe?" cried Harry in a frenzy. "You are +villains both! I believe you did it between you!" + +"Steady, Ringrose, steady. I have given you provocation in the past, +but I am not provoking you now. That your father's fate was different +from what I led you to believe it would be idle to deny any longer, +especially as I am here to clear up the mystery once and for all. Take +me upstairs and you shall know the truth." + +"What! Trust myself to the two of you?" + +Lowndes pointed to the shadowy figure across the road. + +"And to the man who is with me." + +"Who is he?" + +"The first detective in London," whispered Lowndes, in his pat, +decisive way. "Now, will you take me up to bowl out Scrafton, or shall +I call to him to come down, and make a scene here in the street? My +dear Ringrose, I may have my faults, but do you seriously mean to take +his word before mine?" + +"Come up if you like," said Harry, shortly; and Lowndes turned to the +man in the shadow. + +"When I throw up a window," Harry heard him say, and he led the way +upstairs, feeling once more as though he were walking into a trap with +his eyes open. + +"Leave the key in the door," whispered Lowndes again as they stood on +the mat. "Then he will be able to come and help us if necessary." + +There was something strangely trustworthy in his face and his voice; +something new in Harry's knowledge of the man. He left the key in the +door, and he felt next moment that he had done right. Scrafton had +leapt to his feet with fear and ferocity in his face, and the empty +spirit-bottle caught up in his hand. + +"What do _you_ want?" he roared. "What are _you_ doing here? You fool, +I've told him everything! Shut the door, you, young fellow; now he's +come we won't let him slip." + +Harry humoured him by shutting it. He had only to look on their two +faces to see which was the villain now. + +"I've told him!" repeated Scrafton, in a loud, jeering voice. "I told +you I'd round on you if ever you went back on me, and I've been as good +as my word. He knows now who persuaded his father to go abroad, and he +knows why. He knows who went with him. He knows who pushed him +overboard and took the money." + +"It's pretty plain, isn't it?" said Lowndes to Harry. "Be prepared to +close with him the moment he lifts that bottle higher than his +shoulder, and I'll tell you honestly what I did do. It will save time, +however, if you first tell me what this fellow says I did." + +Harry did so in the fewest words, while they both stood watching +Scrafton, grinning in their faces as he held the empty bottle in rest. +His grin broadened as the tale proceeded. And so strange was the +growing triumph in the fierce blue eyes, if it were all untrue, that at +the end Harry turned to Lowndes and asked him point-blank whether there +was any truth in it at all. + +"Heaps," was the reply. "It's nothing but the truth up to a certain +point. I am not here to exonerate myself from fault, Ringrose, and not +even altogether from crime. It is perfectly true that it was at my +instigation your father consented to go abroad and put his faith in +this fellow's system. It was a wild scheme, if you like, but it was +either that or certain ruin, and I'd have risked it myself without the +slightest hesitation. I firmly believe, too, that it would have come +off if we'd kept cool and played well together--for make no mistake +about the mere ability of our friend with the bottle--but it never came +to that. Your father weakened on it halfway across the Channel, and +vowed he'd go back by the next boat and fail like a man. That's true +enough, and it's also true that after reasoning with him in vain I went +to send Scrafton to reassure him about the system; and here's where the +lies begin. I didn't go back with him to the empty cabin. I followed +him in a few minutes, and there he was alone, and there and then he +started accusing me of what he'd obviously done himself." + +"Obviously!" jeered Scrafton. "So obviously that he made no attempt to +prove it at the time!" + +"I stood no chance of doing so. It would have been oath against oath. +And meanwhile, Ringrose, there were the two of us in a tight place +together--and the French lights in sight! There was nothing for it but +to pull together for the time being, and to avoid discovery of your +father's disappearance at all costs. What was done couldn't be undone; +and discovery would have meant destruction to us both, without anybody +else being a bit the better. So Scrafton went ashore muffled up in your +father's ulster, as he has told you himself; and, indeed, the rest of +his story is--only too true." + +"You consented to this?" cried Harry, recoiling from both men, as one +stood shamefaced and the other took snuff with a triumphant flourish. + +"Consented to it?" roared Scrafton. "He proposed it, bless you!" + +"That's not true, Lowndes?" + +"I'm ashamed to say it is, Ringrose. We were in a frightful hole. +Something had to be done right there and then." + +"So you went ashore together?" + +"No; we arranged to meet." + +"To concoct the forgery I've been shown to-night? You had a hand in +that, had you?" + +"I had a voice." + +"Yet none of the guilt is yours!" + +The tone cut like a knife. Lowndes had been hanging his head, but his +spectacles flashed as he raised it now. + +"I never said that!" cried he. "God knows I was guilty enough after the +event; and God knows, also, that I did what I could to make it up to +you and yours in every other way later on. You may smile in my face--I +deserve it--but what would you have gained if I had blown the gaff? +Nothing at all; whereas I should have been bowled out in getting your +father abroad with the very money I'd raised to save the ship; and that +alone would have been the very devil for me. No Crofter Fisheries! Very +likely Wormwood Scrubs instead! I couldn't face it; so I held my +tongue, and I've been paying for it to this ruffian ever since." + +"Paying for it!" echoed Scrafton. "Paying _me_ to hold _my_ tongue; +that's what he means!" + +"It is true enough," said Lowndes quietly, in answer to a look from +Harry. + +"He admits it!" cried Scrafton, snuffing horribly in his exultation; +"he might just as well admit the whole thing. Who but a guilty man pays +another to hold his tongue?" + +"I have confessed the full extent of my guilt," said Lowndes, in the +same quiet voice. + +"Then why were you such a blockhead as to put yourself at my mercy +to-night?" roared the other, his bloodshot eyes breaking into a sudden +blaze of fury. + +Lowndes stood a little without replying; and Harry Ringrose, still +wavering between the two men, and as yet distrusting and condemning +them equally in his heart, saw all at once a twinkle in the spectacled +eyes which weighed more with him than words. A twitch of the sharp nose +completed a characteristic look which Harry could neither forget nor +misunderstand; it was not that of the losing side; and now, for the +first time, the lad could believe it was a real detective, and not a +third accomplice, who was waiting in the street below. + +"Do you think I am the man to put myself at your mercy?" asked Lowndes +at length, and with increased serenity. + +"You've done so, you blockhead! You've put the rope round your own +neck!" + +"On the contrary, my good Scrafton, I've simply waited until I was +certain of slipping it round yours. You would see that for yourself if +you hadn't drunk your brain to a pulp. You would have seen it by the +way I sent you to the devil this evening. However, I think you're +beginning to see it now!" + +"I see nothing," snarled Scrafton; "and you can prove nothing! But if I +can't hang you, I can tell enough to make you glad to go out and hang +yourself. It doesn't much matter what happens to me. I'm old and poor, +and about done for in any case, or I might think more of my own skin. +But you're on the top of the wave--and I'll have you back in the +trough! You're living on the fat of the land--you shall see how you +like skilly! Never mind who did the trick; who took the money when it +was done?" + +Harry turned once more to Lowndes, and, despite his late convictions, +the question was reflected in his face. + +"The notes went overboard with your father," said Lowndes. "The gold we +found in his bag in the cabin." + +"And what did you do with the gold?" + +Scrafton echoed the question with his jeering laugh. + +"Ringrose," said Lowndes, "it didn't amount to very much; what I +consented to take I used for your mother and you, so help me God!" + +"Your mother and my eye!" cried Scrafton. "A likely yarn!" + +"I believe it," said Harry, after a pause. + +"You believe him?" screamed Scrafton. + +"Certainly--before you." + +"After all the lies he's owned up to?" + +"After everything!" + +Scrafton gnashed his teeth, and his bloodshot eyes blazed again. + +"You had my version first, you blockhead!" he burst out. "You never +would have had his otherwise. Can't you see he's only trying to turn +the tables on me? I tell you he threw your father into the sea, so he +turns round and says I did it! Let him prove a word of it. Do you hear, +you lying devil? Prove it; prove it if you can!" + +Lowndes stepped over to the window and threw up the centre sash very +casually. + +"It's a warm night for this sort of thing," he remarked. "Prove it, do +you say? That's exactly what I'm going to do, if you'll give me time. +Steady with that bottle, though--watch him, Ringrose--that's better! So +you still insist on having a proof, eh? Do you think I'd have refused +your demands this evening if I hadn't had one? My good fellow, there +was a man in my house at the time who is in a position to convict you +at last. He has been on your track for years--and here he is!" + +As the door opened, Harry kept his eyes on Scrafton, and on the empty +bottle he still gripped by the neck. Instead of being raised, it +slipped through his slackened fingers and fell upon the hearthrug. A +moment later Scrafton himself crashed in a heap where he stood. + +Harry turned round; a bronzed gentleman with snow-white whiskers had +entered the room and was holding out his arms to him, the tears +standing thick in his eyes. + +"My son--my son!" + + * * * * * + +The mist was clearing from Harry's eyes; a trembling hand held each of +his; trembling lips had touched his forehead. + +"Father--father--is it really you?" + +"By God's mercy--only." + +"They said you were drowned!" + +"I was saved by a miracle." + +"Yet you have kept away from us all these years!" + +"It was the least I could do, Harry. The slur was on you and your +mother. I had cast it on you; it was for me to remove it; or never to +show my face again. God has been very good to me. I will tell you all. +I am only sorry I consented to this scene." + +Lowndes was kneeling over the prostrate Scrafton, loosening the snuffy +raiment, feeling the feeble heart, pouring more whisky into the fallen +mouth that reeked of it already. + +"Is there nothing we can do?" said Mr. Ringrose. + +"He will be all right in a minute or two." + +"I am sorry I was a party to this business!" + +"Not a bit of it, my dear sir! It was what he deserved. Sorry I told +you your father was a detective, Ringrose. I wanted you to believe me +for once before you saw him, that was all. You'll never believe me +again--and that's what _I_ deserve." + +He had looked round for a moment from the senseless man; now he bent +over him once more; and father and son stepped forward anxiously. The +high forehead, the dirty, iron-grey hair, and the long lean nose, were +all that they could see; the glistening skin was of a leaden pallor. + +"Is it more than a faint?" asked Mr. Ringrose. "Ah! I am thankful." + +The blue eyes had opened; the flowing beard was moving from side to +side; a feeble hand feeling for a waistcoat pocket. + +"My snuff-box," he whined. "I want my snuff-box." + +Harry found it and gave it to him; and after the first pinch Scrafton +was sitting upright; after the second he was struggling to his feet +with their help, and scowling at them all in turn. He shook off their +hands as soon as he felt his feet under him; and with a fine effort he +tried to stalk, but could only totter, to the door. Harry was very loth +to let him go, but it was his father who held the door open, while +Lowndes nodded his approval of the course. + +But in the doorway Scrafton turned and glared at the trio like a sick +grey wolf, and shook an unclean fist in their faces before he went. + +They heard him taking snuff upon the stairs. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +RESTITUTION. + + +Shortly after Scrafton's departure, Gordon Lowndes also took his leave. +It was not, however, until he had offered Harry his hand with much +diffidence, and the younger man had grasped it without a moment's +hesitation. At this the other coloured and dropped his eyes, but stood +for some moments returning Harry's pressure twofold. + +"Ringrose," he faltered, "I would give all I'm worth to-night to have +told the truth in the beginning. But how could I? I might as well have +blown my brains out. I--I tried to be your friend instead. I suppose +you'll never let me be your friend any more?" + +It is doubtful whether any man could have said these words to Harry +Ringrose, in any conceivable circumstances, without receiving some such +response as that which instantly burst from his lips. Want of +generosity was not one of Harry's faults; yet he had no sooner forgiven +Lowndes, once and for all, and with a whole heart, than an inner voice +reminded him that he had but served self-interest in doing so; and the +reason, coming home to him like a bullet, gave a strange turn to his +emotions. + +The father was sitting in a deep reverie in his wife's chair: his face +was in his hands: he neither saw nor heard. Harry looked at him, +hesitated, and in the end not only saw Lowndes to the door but +accompanied him downstairs in the first leaden light of the September +morning. He had something more to say. + +He merely wanted to know whether Miss Lowndes was in town, and whether +he might call. Yet he only got it out as they were shaking hands for +the last time. + +"You mean at Berkeley Square?" said Lowndes. + +"Yes--if I may." + +"You'll have to be quick about it, Ringrose. We leave there in a day or +two. The men are already in the house. Still, I've no doubt she'll be +glad to see you." + +"Taking a country seat?" asked Harry, smiling. + +"No, a suburban one: the sort of thing we had at Richmond, only rather +better." + +"You don't mean it!" + +"A fact." + +"But the Crofters are paying such a dividend?" + +Gordon Lowndes shrugged his shoulders with a gesture that reminded +Harry of former days. + +"A paltry fourteen per cent.!" said he. "I'm sick of it. I thought we +should all be millionaires by this time. I've sold out, and, of course, +at a good enough figure; but we've been doing ourselves pretty well +these last few years, and I haven't got much change out of the Crofters +after all. In point of fact, it would take a few thousands to clear me; +but, on the other hand, the credit's better than ever it was, and I'm +simply chock-a-block with new plans. Loaded to the muzzle, Ringrose, +and just spoiling for the fray! I know my nature better than ever I +knew it before. I wasn't built for sitting in a chair and drawing my +salary and receiving my dividends. I've found that out. It's worrying +the thing through that I enjoy; there's some sport in that. However, +I'm as lively as an old cheese with schemes and ideas; and one of them, +at least, should appeal to you. It's a composite daily paper on +absolutely new lines--that is, on all existing lines run parallel for a +penny. My idea is to knock out the _Times_ and the _Guardian_ on one +hand, and _Punch_ and the _Pink 'Un_ on the other. What should you say +to coming in as comic editor at a four-figure screw?" + +"Where's the capitalist?" was what Harry said. + +"Where is he not?" cried Lowndes. "Every man Jack of them would jump at +it! I made such a success of the Crofters that I could raise a million +to-morrow for any crack-brained scheme I liked to put my name to. Yes, +my boy, I'll have my pick of the capitalists this time; have them +coming to me with their hats in one hand and their cheque-books in the +other; but, between ourselves, I don't think we shall have far to seek +for our man, Ringrose!" + +"What do you mean?" cried Harry, his curiosity whetted by the other's +tone. + +"Ask your father," was the reply. "I may be mistaken, and he mayn't +have made such a pile as I imagine; but he'll tell you as soon as he +has you to himself; and meanwhile I'll warn Fanny that you're going to +look her up." + +A hansom tinkled and twinkled across the jaws of Earl's Court Road; and +as the light-hearted rapscallion darted off in pursuit, few would have +believed with what a deed he had been connected; fewer still with what +emotion he had lamented his wickedness not five minutes ago. + + * * * * * + +The father had not stirred, but he looked up as Harry burst in, +breathless and ashamed. + +"What, have you been out?" + +"Yes, father," with deep humility. + +"And where is Lowndes?" + +"I have been seeing him off." + +"I never heard him go," said Mr. Ringrose, with a deep sigh. "The old +things about me--they carried me back into the past. One question, +Harry, and then you shall hear all you care to know. We found out from +the commissionaire that your mother is at Eastbourne. What is she doing +there?" + +"I thought it would set her up for the winter." + +"Is she not well?" + +"Perfectly, father; but--she likes it, and--we were able to do it last +year." + +"She is in lodgings, then, and alone?" + +"Yes." + +"When does the next train leave?" + +"Eight-ten," said Harry, a minute later. + +Mr. Ringrose had shaded his eyes once more. They shone like a young +man's as with a sudden gesture he whisked his hand away and snatched at +his watch. + +"Only five hours more! Thank God--thank God--that I can look her in the +face to-day!" + + * * * * * + +"Do you remember how I taught you to swim when you were a tiny shrimp? +It was my one accomplishment in my own boyhood, my one love among +outdoor sports, and I sometimes think it must have been implanted in me +for the express purpose of saving my life when the time came. Certainly +nothing else could have saved it; and I cannot think that I was spared +by mere chance, Harry, but intentionally, for better things. Mine had +been an easy life up to that time; even in my difficulties it had been +an easy life. Well, it has not been easy since! + +"He stunned me first--that's how it happened. He struck me a murderous +blow as I was leaving him to go in search of Lowndes. I knew no more +until I was in the water. Then, before my head was clear, my limbs were +doing their work. I was keeping myself afloat. I kept myself afloat +until close upon daylight, when a French fisherman picked me up. He +carried me to his cottage on the coast, and treated me from first to +last with a kindness which I hope still to reward. At the time I bought +his silence, with but little faith in his sticking to his bargain; now +I know how loyally he must have done so. When I left him it was to find +my way to Havre, and at Havre I took ship for Naples. I had still a +little paper-money which had not come to me from Lowndes, and which I +did not think likely to leave traces. With this money I transhipped at +Naples, after reading of my own mysterious disappearance from Dieppe. +Yes, that puzzled me; but I thought and thought, and hit at last upon +something not altogether unlike the actual explanation. No, I never +contemplated returning to unmask the villain who had attempted my +murder. I was beginning to feel almost grateful to him. It was to him I +owed such a fresh start as no ruined man ever had before.... Harry, +Harry, don't look like that! My ruin was complete in any case. How +could I come back and say I had been running away with the money, but +had thought better of it? I could have come back in the beginning, and +met my creditors without telling them what I had been tempted to do. +This was impossible now. It was too late to undo the immediate effects +of my disappearance; it was not too late to begin life afresh under +another name and in another land. Rightly or wrongly, that is what I +resolved to do--for my family's sake as much as for my own. They must +forgive me, or my heart will break!" + + * * * * * + +It was to Durban that the fugitive had taken ship at Naples. He had +landed on those shores within a month of the day on which his son had +quitted them. And the first man he met there was one who recognised him +on the spot. But good came of it; the man was an old friend, and proved +a true one; he was down from Johannesburg on business, and when he +returned Mr. Ringrose accompanied him. With this staunch friend the +ironmaster's secret was safe; and partly through him, and partly with +him--for within the year the pair were partners--the man who had lost a +fortune bit by bit in the old country had made another by leaps and +bounds in the new. Which was a sufficiently romantic story when Harry +came to hear it in detail at a later date. At the time it was but the +bare fact that the father cared to chronicle or the son to hear. It was +the result on which Mr. Ringrose preferred to dwell. That very day he +had returned with interest (before he knew that his wife had been +paying it all these years) the money those four old friends had lent +him through Gordon Lowndes. He had barely touched it, and would have +returned it long ago, only he did not want his wife and son to know +that he was alive until he could come back to them a rich enough man to +atone in some degree for the wrong that he had done them--for the +poverty and the shame they had endured for his sake. + +Harry said that Lowndes had spoken as though his father was a +millionaire. Mr. Ringrose smiled slightly as he shook his head. + +"That's entirely his own idea," said he. "There might have been some +truth in it in a few more years; but, as it is, it was no great pile I +set myself to make, and I am more than content in having made it. In +point of fact I am a poorer man than I was when you were born, but I am +a free man for the first time for many years. This very day I have paid +every penny that I owed here in town. A cheque is also on its way to +the old firm, with which they can settle to-morrow any outstanding +liabilities, and put the rest into the works in my name. And now I can +face your mother. I could not do it until I could tell her this." + +Yet he had not been a dozen hours in England; the cheques had been +written on board, and posted the moment he landed. On reaching London +he had gone straight to Gordon Lowndes, and it was only the almost +simultaneous arrival of Scrafton which had kept him so long from +seeking his own. Scrafton, who had latterly taken to pestering his +victim almost daily, had ultimately left him (to the delight of +Lowndes) with the avowed intention of carrying out his old threat and +going straight to Harry Ringrose. In what followed Harry's father had +once more yielded, against his better judgment, to Gordon Lowndes. + +"It was his frankness that did it," said Mr. Ringrose; "he told me +everything, before he need have told me anything at all, in his sheer +joy at seeing me alive. He told me everything that he has since told +you, and upon my word I am not sure that you or I would have acted very +differently in his place. It was while we were talking that Scrafton +called, and I learned for myself how Lowndes had suffered at his hands. +I could not refuse to give him his revenge, though I should have vastly +preferred to give it him there. Scrafton had gone, however, and Lowndes +seemed almost equally anxious that you should judge between them, as it +were, on their merits. So he had his way ... I am glad you have made it +up with him, Harry. He is a strange mixture of good and bad, but which +of us is not? And which of us does not need forgiveness from the other? +I--most of all--need it from you!" + +"And I from you," said Harry in a low voice. + +"You? Why?" + +"Four years ago I suspected foul play. I was sure of it. Some other +time I will tell you why." + +"I rather think Lowndes has told me already. Well?" + +"I held my tongue! I found out most on the promise of not trying to +find out any more. I shall never forgive myself for making that +promise--and keeping it." + +"Nay; thank God you did that!" + +"You don't know what I mean." + +"I think I do." + +"Every day I have felt a traitor to you!" + +"I think there has been a little morbid exaggeration," said Mr. +Ringrose, with his worn smile. "What good could you have done? And to +whom did you make this promise?" + +Harry told him with a red face. + + * * * * * + +The night was at an end. Milk-carts clattered in the streets; milkmen +clattered on the stairs. Harry put out the single light that had been +burning all night in the sober front of the many-windowed mansions; and +in the early morning he took his father over the flat. The rooms had +never seemed so few--so tiny. Mr. Ringrose made no remark until he was +back in the only good one that the flat contained. + +"And your mother has made shift here all these years!" he exclaimed +then, and the remorse in his voice had never sounded so acute. + +"Oh, no; we have only been here a year." + +"Where were you before?" + +"In a smaller flat downstairs." + +"A smaller one than this? God forgive me! I was not prepared for much; +but from what I read I did expect more than this!" + +"From what you read?" cried Harry. "Read where?" + +A new light shone in the father's face. "In some paragraphs I once +stumbled across in some paper--I have them in my pocket at this +moment!" said he. "Did you suppose I never saw your name in the papers, +Harry? It has been my one link with you both. I saw it first by +accident, and ever since I have searched for it, and sent for +everything I could hear of that had your name to it. So I have always +had good news of you; and sometimes between the lines I have thought I +read good news of your mother too. God bless you ... God bless you ... +for working for her ... and taking my place." + + * * * * * + +The old servant wept over her old master as though her heart would +break with gladness. Her breakfast was a sorry thing, but no sooner was +it on the table than she was sent down for a hansom, and she was still +whistling when the gentlemen rushed after her and flew to find one for +themselves. It was ten minutes to eight, and their train left Victoria +at ten minutes past. + +Mrs. Ringrose was reading quietly in her room--reading some proof-sheets +which Harry had posted to her the day before--when she heard the bell +ring and her boy's own step upon the stairs. "You have news!" she cried +as he entered; then at his face--"He has come back!" + +"Mother, did you expect it?" + +"I have expected it every morning of all these years. I have prayed for +it every night." + +"Your prayer is answered!" + +"Where is he?" + +"I left him in the cab----" + +"But he could not wait!" cried a broken voice; and as Harry stood aside +to let his father pass, he could see nothing through his own tears, but +he never forgot the next words he heard. + +"I have paid them all--all--all!" his father cried. "I can look the +world in the face once more!" + +"I care nothing about that," his mother answered. "You have come back +to me. Oh! you have come back!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +A TALE APART. + + +Harry Ringrose used sometimes to complain of his life from a literary +point of view. This piece of ingratitude he was wont to couch in the +technical terminology with which his conversation was rather freely +garnished. He acknowledged that his "African horse had good legs," as +Gordon Lowndes would remind him; it was the later years that set him +grumbling. In Harry's opinion they were full of "good stuff," which he +longed to "handle"; but the facts were so badly "constructed" (as facts +will be) that all the king's horses and all the king's men could not +pull them to pieces and put them together again without spoiling them. +Then there were the "unities": our author was not quite clear as to +their meaning, but he had an uncomfortable presentiment that they would +prove another difficulty. And the "dramatic interest" lacked +continuity. It was also of too many different kinds. The play began in +one theatre, went on in another, and finished across the river. Worst +of all was the "love story:" it disappeared for years, and then came +altogether in a lump. + +This was true. It did. And if Harry Ringrose had essayed the task to +which his innate subjectivity and the want of better ideas often drew +him, there is no saying how much he would have made of scenes which the +impersonal historian is content simply to mention. Of such was the +meeting which took place within a few hours of that other meeting in +the Eastbourne lodgings. Yet this proved to be the beginning of a new +story rather than the end of an old one, which poor Harry meant it to +be, as he returned alone to town the same afternoon, and drove straight +to Berkeley Square. + +His excitement is not to be described. It seemed but a day since the +leave-taking in the little shabby drawing-room on Richmond Hill. He +remembered his own words so clearly. He remembered her replies. There +were no more mysteries now; there were no more quarrels; and he cared +still, as he had always done, Heaven knew! If only she still cared for +him--if only there was nobody else--what was there to hinder it for +another minute? + +Nothing, one would have thought: yet it was dusk when Harry rang the +bell in a shivering glow of hope and fear, and nearly midnight when he +came away downcast and disheartened: and during all those hours but one +he had been pressing an unsuccessful suit: though he had her word for +it that there was nobody else. + +What was there, then? + +Those six years which had once given Harry Ringrose a misleading sense +of safety. + +And literally nothing else! + + * * * * * + +He called again next day. He hindered the removal on the plea of making +himself useful. And in season and out of season he tried his luck in +vain. + +In the broad light of day he was met by a new and awful argument: his +beloved showed him what she declared to be a genuine and flagrant +crow's-foot; and he only a boy of twenty-five! + +The removal was soon over, and for Harry the town emptied itself just +as it was filling for everybody else; so then he took to writing +tremendous letters; and an answer was never wanting in the course of a +day or so; only it was never the answer he besought. + +Her fondness for him was obvious and not denied; only she had got it +into her head that those six years between them were an insuperable +bar, that a boy like Harry could not possibly know his own mind, and, +therefore, that it would be manifestly unfair to take him at his word. + +So the thing resolved itself into a question of time; and, in the midst +of other changes in his life, Harry did his best to bury himself in his +work; but his comic verses were as much as he could manage, and for +several weeks in succession these were the feeblest feature in _Tommy +Tiddler_. + +Then he went to her in despair. + +"I can't stand it any longer!" + +"Then give it up." + +"I've waited five months!" + +"I said six." + +"Surely five is enough to show whether a fellow knows his own mind?" + +"Some of it may be mere obstinacy." + +"Well, then, it's playing the very mischief with my work." + +"Then what _will_ it be when we are married?" + +"I beg your pardon?" + +"I mean to say if we ever are." + +"Fanny, you said _when_!" + +"I meant _if_." + +"But you _said_ WHEN!!" + + * * * * * + +It was the thin edge of the wedge. + + * * * * * + +This protracted siege had other sides. It was not a joke to either +party. Yet each tried to treat it as one. The man tried to conceal his +disappointment, his inevitable chagrin; the woman, her deep and +selfless anxiety as to whether, in all the years before them, he would +be happy always--truly happy--happy as a man could be. She looked so +far ahead, and he such a little way. Sometimes they told each other +their thoughts; sometimes they were less happy than lovers ought to be; +but all these months their inner lives were very full. They did not +stagnate in each other's love. They lived intensely and they felt +acutely. And that is why, if Harry Ringrose were to tell his own love +story, and tell it honestly, it would be a tale apart. + + * * * * * + +When the time came there was some little heart-burning as to who should +perform the ceremony. Harry had set his heart on being married by his +dear Mr. Innes. This man still filled a unique place in his life. +Indeed the many friendships that he had struck up in the last year or +two only emphasised the value of that friend of friends: there was no +one like Mr. Innes. They had not seen a great deal of each other during +these last years; but they had never quite lost touch; and of the many +influences to which the younger man's nature responded only too +readily, as strings to every wind, there was none so constant or so +helpful as that of the old master to whom he was now content to be as a +boy all his days. It was not that he had paid very many visits to the +school at Guildford: it was that each had left its own indelible +impress on his mind, its own high resolves and noble yearnings in his +heart. So it was natural enough that Harry Ringrose should want that +man to marry him to whom he vowed that he owed such shreds of virtue as +he possessed. And Fanny wished it too, for she had been with Harry to +Guildford, and caught his enthusiasm, and knelt by his side one summer +evening in the chapel where he had knelt as a boy. But it was not to +be; there was a clergy-man in the family; it would be impossible to +pass him over. + +Harry thought it would be not only possible but highly desirable, since +his Uncle Spencer disapproved so cordially of Gordon Lowndes; but Mrs. +Ringrose (with whom her son had warm words on the subject) very justly +observed that such disapproval had not once been expressed since the +engagement was announced; nor had her brother uttered one syllable to +mar her own great happiness in her husband's return, but had shown a +more tender sympathy in her joy than in her trouble; after which he +must marry them, or they could be married without their mother. The +matter was settled by a private appeal to Innes himself, who sided +against Harry, and by a note from Mr. Walthew, in which that gentleman +accepted the responsibility with fewer reservations than Harry had ever +known him make before. + +"To tell you the truth," wrote Uncle Spencer, "it is against all my +principles to make engagements so many weeks ahead; but every rule has +its exception, and I shall be very happy to officiate on December 1st, +if I am spared, and if it has not seemed good to you meanwhile to +postpone the event. I must say that in my poor judgment a longer +engagement would have shown greater wisdom: your Aunt and I waited some +five years and a quarter! As you say that you are determined to depend +(almost entirely) on your own efforts, it would have been well, in our +opinion, to follow our example, and to wait until your literary +position is more established than your warmest admirer can consider it +to be at present. At the same time, my dear Henry, if marriage leads +you into a less frivolous vein of writing (such as I once hoped you +were about to adopt), I for one shall be thankful--if only you are also +able to make both ends meet." + +Gordon Lowndes read this letter with such uproarious delight that Harry +was sorry he had shown it to him. + +"There's that brother of mine," said he; "the chap we wired to for the +tenner; _he_ would want a finger in the pie if he knew. But he's +forgotten our existence since we left Berkeley Square, and I'm hanged +if I remember his again. Besides, he's as High as your uncle's Low, and +they might set on each other in the church. On the whole I'm sorry it +isn't to be your schoolmaster friend. I want to meet that man, +Ringrose. I want to turn that school of his into a Limited Liability +Company." + + * * * * * + +It took place very quietly on a bright keen winter's day. Harry's +parents were there, and Gordon Lowndes, and another. Mr. Walthew +performed the ceremony in a slow and sober fashion which added +something to its solemnity; the church was very still and empty; and in +one awful pause the bridegroom's voice deserted him, in the mere +fulness of his boyish heart. But the hand that he was holding pressed +his with the familiar, firm, kind pressure, and it was from his heart +of hearts that the lagging words burst: + +"I will!" + + +THE END. + + +PRINTED BY CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED, LA BELLE SAUVAGE, LONDON, E.C. + + + + +SECOND EDITION. + +MY LORD DUKE. + +By E. W. HORNUNG, + +_Author of "The Rogue's March," "Tiny Luttrell," "A Bride from the +Bush," etc._ + +Price 6s. + + "'My Lord Duke' is _thoroughly clever and amusing_."--_Athenæum._ + + "From the first page to the last Mr. Hornung's story is + _fascinating and powerful_."--_Pall Mall Gazette._ + + "_Worth any dozen of the novels_ which would compete with it for + popular favour."--_Daily Mail._ + + "One of the most agreeable novels that we can + remember."--_Academy._ + + "Mr. Hornung is to be congratulated on having produced _a bright + and amusing story_."--_Daily Telegraph._ + + "'The Dook,' as he first calls himself, and Olivia are _delightful + creations_ of an undeniable freshness and originality."--_Morning + Post._ + + "Full of boisterous mirth, and _leaves the pleasantest of + impressions_."--_Scotsman._ + + "With this tale Mr. Hornung has made a _distinct step forward_ + as a novelist. 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She interests us in her heroine + in the very first chapter."--_Daily Chronicle._ + + +_By FRANK BARRETT._ + +Out of the Jaws of Death. 3s. 6d. + + "An originally treated and cleverly constructed plot."--_Saturday + Review._ + +The Admirable Lady Biddy Fane. _Cheap Edition_, 3s. 6d. + + "A tale of adventure than which we have read few more thrilling, + and it may possibly rank even above 'Allan Quatermain.'"--_Athenæum._ + + +_By EGERTON CASTLE._ + +"La Bella" and Others. 3s. 6d. + + "'La Bella' will be welcomed with a sense of refreshing pungency by + readers who have been cloyed by a too long succession of insipid + sweetness and familiar incident."--_Athenæum._ + + +_By BARRY PAIN._ + +Playthings and Parodies. 3s. 6d. + + "For whimsical audacity and quaint unexpectedness, 'Playthings and + Parodies' would be hard to beat."--_Punch._ + + +_By MAJOR ARTHUR GRIFFITHS._ + +A Prison Princess. A Romance of Millbank Penitentiary. 3s. 6d. + + +_By LILIAN TURNER._ + +The Lights of Sydney. Illustrated. 3s. 6d. + + +_By Mrs. MOLESWORTH._ + +Leona. 3s. 6d. + + +_By MORLEY ROBERTS._ + +The Reputation of George Saxon; and other Stories. 3s. 6d. + + +_By W. CARLTON DAWE._ + +Mount Desolation. An Australian Romance. 3s. 6d. + + +_By ELIZABETH STEWART PHELPS._ + +Fourteen to One, etc. 3s. 6d. + + +_By LAWRENCE FLETCHER._ + +Into the Unknown. 3s. 6d. + +Zero the Slaver. 3s. 6d. + + +_By HEADON HILL._ + +Spectre Gold. + +By a Hair's-Breadth. 6s. + + "How refreshing is a real good story of organized crime and its + detection.... The book kept at least one reader out of bed an hour + after his usual time for retiring."--_Athenæum._ + + +_By ELLEN THORNEYCROFT FOWLER._ + +Cupid's Garden. 6s. + + "Most delightful stories of love and marriage, and the humours of + the human heart. Most delectable are the surprises that await us. + The conversation is amazingly clever."--_Methodist Times._ + + +_By FRANCES HEATH FRESHFIELD._ + +The Wrothams of Wrotham Court. 6s. + + "A love story of the seventeenth century. The pictures of London + which form the background of the story have been carefully + done."--_Academy._ + + +_By SARAH PITT._ + +A Limited Success. 6s. + + "'A Limited Success' is a clever story, cleverly told, and + decidedly interesting."--_Christian World._ + + +_By W. G. TARBET._ + +Ill-Gotten Gold: A Story of a Great Wrong and a Great Revenge. 6s. + + "'Ill-Gotten Gold' is a story of stirring interest.... A series + of exciting events lead to a powerful and highly dramatic + ending."--_Scotsman._ + + +_By E. W. HORNUNG._ + +Young Blood. 6s. + +My Lord Duke. 6s. + + "The plot is ingenious, and bright with graphic scenes. From the + first page to the last Mr. Hornung's story is fascinating and + powerful."--_Pall Mall Gazette._ + +The Rogue's March. Cloth gilt, 6s. + + "A most spirited and interesting story, admirably told, and without + a dull page from cover to cover."--_Sketch._ + +"Tiny Luttrell." 6s. + + "'Tiny Luttrell' has a young Australian lady for its heroine--a + charming incorporation of contradictions and + inconsistencies."--_Daily Telegraph._ + + +CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED, _London; Paris & Melbourne_. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Young Blood, by E. W. Hornung + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42902 *** |