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diff --git a/old/45792-0.txt b/old/45792-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7ffcef --- /dev/null +++ b/old/45792-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,20520 @@ +Project Gutenberg's London's Heart, by B. L. (Benjamin Leopold) Farjeon + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: London's Heart + A Novel + +Author: B. L. (Benjamin Leopold) Farjeon + +Release Date: May 28, 2014 [EBook #45792] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LONDON'S HEART *** + + + + +Produced by Transcribed by Charles Bowen from page images +provided by Google Books +(http://books.google.com/books?id=7AktAAAAYAAJ&dq and +Princeton University) + + + + + + + + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + 1. Page scan source: + http://books.google.com/books?id=7AktAAAAYAAJ&dq + (Princeton University) + + + + + LONDON'S HEART. + + + + + + + LONDON'S HEART. + + + + A Novel + + + + + BY + + B. L. FARJEON, + + AUTHOR OF "GRIF," "JOSHUA MARVEL," "BLADE-O'-GRASS," "GOLDEN + GRAIN," AND "BREAD-AND-CHEESE AND KISSES." + + + + + New Edition + + + + + LONDON: + TINSLEY BROTHERS, 8 CATHERINE ST. STRAND. + 1874. + + + + + LONDON: + SWIFT AND CO., REGENT PRESS, KING STREET, + REGENT STREET, W. + + + + + + + CONTENTS + + + I. IN WHICH MR. PODMORE DECLARES THAT HE IS NOT + ACCOUNTABLE FOR HIMSELF + + II. IN WHICH GRIBBLE JUNIOR DISCOURSES ON CO-OPERATION + + III. INTRODUCES THE ROYAL WHITE ROSE MUSIC-HALL + + IV. MR. DAVID SHELDRAKE COMES TO A SHREWD CONCLUSION + + V. MR. DAVID SHELDRAKE DOES A GOOD NIGHT'S WORK + + VI. GRAVE NEWS + + VII. THE IRON BOX + + VIII. THE REVEREND EMANUEL CREAMWELL STOPS THE WAY + + IX. THE REVEREND EMANUEL CREAMWELL AND HIS SON TAKE + DIFFERENT VIEWS OF THINGS + + X. FELIX GOES OVER TO THE ENEMY + + XI. FELIX, DISSATISFIED WITH THE REALITY, SETS UP AN + IDOL, AND WORSHIPS IT + + XII. POLLYPOD WANTS TO KNOW + + XIII. THE WINNER OF THE NORTHUMBERLAND PLATE + + XIV. TRAPS FOR GULLS----HOW SPIDERS CATCH THE FLIES + + XV. SUGGESTS THE DOUBT WHETHER EVERY FRIEND IN NEED + IS A FRIEND INDEED + + XVI. THE CAPTAIN ARRIVES + + XVII. A HAPPY NIGHT + + XVIII. THE BEATING OF THE PULSE + + XIX. MR. SHELDRAKE SUGGESTS THAT IT IS TIME FOR MUZZY + TO TURN OVER A NEW LEAF + + XX. AN UNEXPECTED PROPOSITION + + XXI. LIZZIE TELLS A VERY SIMPLE STORY + + XXII. LOVE LINES + + XXIII. THE COMMENCEMENT OF A HAPPY DAY + + XXIV. SELFISH YEARNINGS AND UNSELFISH LOVE + + XXV. ALFRED NEGLECTS THE WARNING OF DON'T TOUCH ME, + AND RUES IT + + XXVI. SURPRISES + + XXVII. FELIX COMFORTS MARTHA DAY + + XXVIII. LIZZIE IN HER NEW HOME + + XXIX. FELIX FINDS HIS OYSTER DIFFICULT TO OPEN + + XXX. JIM PODMORE HAS A "DAZE" + + XXXI. THE SWINDLE WHICH THE LAW PROTECTS KNOWN BY THE + TITLE OF DISCRETIONARY INVESTMENTS + + XXXII. THE POLISH JEW + + XXXIII. LIZZIE DEEMS IT NECESSARY TO CALL CUNNING TO HER AID + + XXXIV. GOOD COUNSEL + + XXXV. MR. PODMORE WISHES TO BE INSTRUCTED UPON THE + DOCTRINE OF RESPONSIBILITY, AND DECLARES THAT HE + HAS A PRESENTMENT + + XXXVI. HOW FELIX GAINED A CLUE + + XXXVII. JIM PODMORE HAS A DREAM, AND WAKES UP IN TIME + + XXXVIII. FELIX BECOMES A LANDLORD + + XXXIX. ALFRED'S LAST CHANCE + + XL. ON EPSOM DOWNS + + XLI. ON THE WATCH + + XLII. THE CLOUDS BRIGHTEN FOR LILY + + XLIII. MR. SHELDRAKE MAKES A BOLD MOVE + + XLIV. A CRISIS + + XLV. HOW MR. SHELDRAKE PLAYS HIS GAME + + XLVI. FATHER AND DAUGHTER + + XLVII. FELIX CHECKMATES MR. DAVID SHELDRAKE + + + + + + + + LONDON'S HEART. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + IN WHICH MR. PODMORE DECLARES THAT HE IS NOT ACCOUNTABLE + FOR HIMSELF. + + +The scene opens in the locality of Soho--that labyrinth of narrow +paths which always wears a depressed and melancholy air, as if it had +just gone into mourning. If Soho ever had bright days in the shape of +a sunny youth, it must have been very long ago. No trace of them +remains; a settled sadness lies upon its queer narrow thoroughfares +now and for evermore. The very voices of its residents are more +subdued and resigned than other voices are in other places. + +No locality in London contains so strange a variety of life's phases +as may be found in Soho. And yet it is full of mystery, and its ways +are dark and secret. Men and women may live there for years, and their +antecedents and present modes of life shall be as little known as if +they lived in the most remote corner of the earth. Soho is the molehill +of the Great City. You may have a thousand pounds a year and spend it in +Soho, and your neighbours not only shall not notice it, but shall be as +utterly indifferent to you as if you lived on tenpence a day--as hundreds +of poor fellows are doing at this present moment. Hard-working mechanics +live there; weary-eyed needlewomen; libertines; ballet-girls, whose +salary is twenty shillings a week, and who wear furs and false hair +and diamond rings; and man-owls, who sleep by day and prey by night. On +the doorstep of some of the houses in which these persons dwell, +children in the afternoon play with marbles and broken pieces of +crockery. Here is a group composed of half a dozen dirty-stockinged +little girls, who look at you shyly as you pause before them, and put +their fingers in their mouths and giggle surreptitiously. Speak to this +one--a clear gray-eyed girl of some eight summers, with intelligent +well-formed face and beautiful light hair. Question her, and bribe her +with pence, and you may obtain from her the information that she lives +in the next street, at the baker's, on the second-floor back; that +mother and father live there, of course; that seven brothers and +sisters live there, making a family party of ten in all; that they +have only one room, in which mother cooks the meals, and in which +they all sleep; and that sometimes Uncle Bob pays them a visit, and +eats and sleeps with them for a few days. Wondrous is the inner life +of Soho. It is the abode of much seediness and much suffering. Many +a poor gentleman eats his bread-and-dripping there, and, if he can +afford it, cooks his herring there, and thinks sadly of times, gone +by, when his life had its days of sunshine. He looks forward yearningly +to the time to come; but rich as is the harvest that grows in the fields +of Hope, the chance of its ever being gathered is a dismal one indeed. +The poor gentleman, ill-fed, ill-dressed, reads faded letters in his +garret, kisses pictures there, and dreams hopefully of the future, +which contains for him nothing but a grave. + +In one of Soho's quiet streets--belonging to that peculiar family of +streets which are invariably round the corner--is a tallow-chandler's +shop, ambitiously designated by its proprietor, J. Gribble senior, as +an oil and colour warehouse. This designation glares at you from over +the blue shopfront in yellow letters--glares at you defiantly, as if +it is aware beforehand that doubt of its assertion must necessarily +rise in your mind. The window of the shop, in which the stock is +displayed, is dusty and dirty, and everything behind it has a faded +and second-hand appearance. In a corner of the window is a sheet +of note-paper, on which is written--in feeble and uncertain +letters--"Down with Cooperation!" There is an exception, however, to +the generally dusty aspect of the window. In a centre pane, which is +kept clean, is a square of blue cardboard, on which the following +announcement is neatly written, in yellow round-hand: + + + + + _J. GRIBBLE JUNIOR_, + _PROFESSOR OF ANATOMY_. + + * * * * * * + + _Broken Ribs or Bones_ + _Carefully Re-set or Neatly Mended;_ + _In fact_ + _The Whole Frame speedily Recovered on Moderate Terms_. + + * * * * * * + +_J. G. junior informs the neighbouring Gentry that he has had a most +Extensive Practice, and that, although he has had_ + + _THOUSANDS OF PATIENTS_ + +_under his Treatment, he has never turned out one Incurable_. + +_J. G. junior has had Numerous Patients brought to him Partly Deformed +or Weakened through Improper Treatment, and has in a very few Hours +invariably restored to them their Original Strength_. + + * * * * * * + + _Consultations, Examination, and Operations performed Daily + from 8 a.m. till 10 p.m_. + + * * * * * * + +_Patients admitted on application, and without the vexatious delay +which is occasioned by references being required_. + + _NO CURE, NO PAY. ADVICE TO ALL GRATIS_. + + * * * * * * + + + _J. G, junior's Royal Umbrella and Parasol Hospital, + Second-floor Front_. + + +The stock has not a very inviting appearance: comprising, for the most +part, candles, mouse-traps, balls of twine, bars of yellow soap--so +arranged as to be suggestive of prison-windows--and limbs and wings +and dead bodies of flies. These latter seem to be the peculiar +attribute of shop and parlour windows in Soho. One might almost be +pardoned for the supposition that every discontented fly in London +makes it a practice to go to Soho and die. + +The shop has its public entrance for customers, and its private +entrance for the residents of the house--so private indeed, so +circumscribed and squeezed up, that scarcely one out of fifty +passers-by would know that it was there; and that one, seeing it by +merest chance, might well be lost in wonder at the perplexing idea of +a stout man struggling through the narrow passage into which the +mockery of a door must necessarily open. Three bell-handles display +themselves on each side of the door to snare and entrap the +uninitiated; a goggle-eyed knocker (with a face so hideous that babies +have gone into convulsions at the sight of it) also adds to the +entanglement of ideas. For, knowing that the house contains many +inhabitants who have no connection with each other, and some of whom +may indeed be at variance, the uninitiated brings confusion upon +himself by ringing the wrong bell or knocking the wrong knock. A +woman, who lodged somewhere in the vicinity of the coal-cellar, was +often the occasion of much distress to the knockers and ringers. This +woman, who always made her appearance fresh from the washing-tub, and +who came up-stairs invariably wiping her wet arms upon her apron, was +afflicted with the perpetual conviction that a ring or a knock, +whether single, or double, or treble, was certainly intended for her; +and as her temper was none of the sweetest, unpleasant scenes +occurred. Many a box on the ears did youthful knockers and ringers +receive from the damp hands of the disappointed woman, and many an +angry mother would make her appearance in the passage a few minutes +afterwards and exchange shrill civilities with the bad-tempered +castigator. Sometimes these angry mothers would go almost into +hysterics because the woman below declined to comply with such +invitations as, "Come up, and I'll show yer!" or, "Come up, and I'll +scratch yer eyes out for yer!" or, "What d'yer mean by slappin' my boy +Billy about on the 'ead, which was weak from a babby? What d'yer mean +by it, yer minx?--What d'yer mean?" (This last _fortissimo_.) "Come +up, and I'll tear the 'air out of yer 'ead!" After which challenges +and defiances the angry mothers, with very white faces, would issue +into the street, and form the centres of little knots of female +neighbours only too willing to discuss the matter and express their +opinions. A facetious person, who had called several times at the +house, and who was never able to solve the mystery of the bells, once +hit upon what he conceived to be a happy idea. He gave a postman's +knock; but the rush of eager feet from all parts of the house, and the +glare of angry faces that met his smiling one when the door was +opened, were sufficient warnings to him never to try it again; and he +never did. + + +In the front room of the first floor of this house sits an old man, +working in somewhat idle fashion on a few wooden castors or wheels. It +is Saturday on a summer evening in June. The window is open; on the +sill are two flower-pots. The room, which is a humble one, is very +clean and tidy, and there are evidences of comfort, even of refinement +about it, humble as it is. Some cheap graceful ornaments are on the +mantelshelf: a pair of shells; a shepherd and a shepherdess, condemned +by the exigencies of art to live apart from each other, +notwithstanding their languishing looks; and, in the centre of the +mantelshelf, a vase with two of yesterday's roses in it. These roses, +as they are placed in the vase, touch the photograph of a young girl, +which hangs in a frame above them. She is pretty and fresh-looking, +and there is a smile upon her face which induces gladness in the +beholder: as spring flowers and bright skies do. On either side of the +portrait, hung on a higher level, is a picture of the same young girl, +disguised. On the right-hand side of the mantelshelf she is dressed in +a Spanish costume; on her shoulders is a black-lace shawl arranged +with the most charming negligence; and as she looks at you from behind +a fan, you catch just a glimpse of laughing eyes. On the left-hand +side of the mantelshelf she is dressed in the costume of a century +ago, in brocaded silk dress, and with black beauty-spots on her +cheeks; she wears a white wig, and, in the act of curtseying, looks at +you saucily and demurely, coquetting the while with a white +handkerchief which she holds in her fingers. The stove is hidden by an +ornament of paper flowers, the colours and arrangement of which are +more artistic than the majority of those sold in the streets. There is +one singular peculiarity about the furniture in the room: everything +movable is on wheels. The chairs, the table, a footstool, the very +ornaments on the mantelshelf--all on wheels made expressly for them. +There is no carpet on the floor; but the chairs make no noise as they +are moved, for the wheels (made of box or deal, according to +requirement) are covered with leather. Even the flower-pots on the +window-sill have wheels, and the old man is at present occupied in +making wheels for a work-box, which it is not difficult to guess +belongs to the young girl whose portrait hangs above the roses. He +works noiselessly and slowly, and with great care. It is evident that +he is engaged on a labour of love. He handles the wood as if it were +sensitive; he looks at his handiwork fondly, and holds it up to the +light and examines it with loving interest. Once he rises and stands +before the mantelshelf, and gazes with a tender light in his eyes at +the picture of the young girl. Then he returns to his tools, and +resumes his work. A slight sound disturbs him, and he pauses in his +work to listen. As he listens he raises his hand to his ear, and +directs his eyes towards a screen, which makes, as it were, a second +apartment of the cosiest corner of the room. Something that the old +man loves lies behind this screen, which is so arranged that the +pictures on the mantelshelf and the roses and the ornaments of paper +flowers can be seen by the person lying there. A pale, thin, bent old +man is he: not bent by age, but by constant stooping; with long +hair--a fringe of it only round his head--nearly white, and with a +thoughtful expression on his face that would well become a student; +which this old man is not, in the ordinary acceptation of the term. +Among the decorations on the mantelshelf is the smallest of clocks, in +a case of wood, carved most likely by Swiss hands. As the old man sits +and works, a click from the Swiss clock warns him that another hour is +nearly gone. "Five minutes to nine," he whispers, and he steps softly +towards the screen, and moves it so that, when he returns to his seat, +he can see what it has before hidden from his sight. With the +exception of the click, and presently of the striking of the hour in +thin bell-notes, not a sound is heard in the room; for the old man has +list slippers on his feet. The shifting of the screen has disclosed a +single iron bedstead, on which lies a woman asleep. She is careworn +and middle-aged; and when her features are composed, a likeness may be +discerned in them to the picture of the girl on the mantelshelf. But +at the present moment her lips wreathe distressfully, and an +expression of pain rests upon her face. + +So, in this quiet room, the sick woman sleeping and the old man +working, the minutes pass swiftly, and the click of the little Swiss +clock is heard again. Five minutes to ten. The old man, who has been +growing restless, and who has several times gone to the bed to see if +the woman is awake, grows more restless still as he hears the last +click. "Alfred promised to be here by this time," he says, with an +anxious look at the door as he lays his work aside. On a little table +near the bed are two medicine bottles, one large and one small, which, +with their labels tied nattily round their necks, look ridiculously +like clergymen with their bands on. The old man takes one of these +medicine bottles, and reads the directions: "Two tablespoonfuls to be +given immediately she awakes, and after that, the same quantity every +four hours." + +"And she won't take it from any other hand than mine or Lily's," he +muses. "If Alfred doesn't come home, and she doesn't wake, I must get +somebody to go for Lily." + +As he stands debating with himself what is best to be done, he hears a +tap at the door. It heralds the appearance of a young woman, one of +the lodgers in the upper part of the house. She has her hat and shawl +on, and a basket is on her arm. + +"Ah, Mrs. Podmore," he says abstractedly, "will you step inside?" + +"No, thank you, Mr. Wheels," she answers; "I'm in a hurry. How's your +daughter to-night?" + +"Not so well, not so well," he says. "She's wandering a little, I +think. The doctor was here in the afternoon, and I could tell by his +face that he thought she was worse. And I have to give her her +medicine directly she wakes." + +"I'm sorry she's not well. We've all got our trials, Mr. Wheels! My +sister's little boy's down with the fever too. I'm going to take a run +round to see how he is." + +"Not serious, I hope?" + +"I don't know," replies Mrs. Podmore gravely; "he seems to me to be +sinking--but we're all in God Almighty's hands. One thinks of one's +own, Mr. Wheels, at such times. Thank God, _our_ little one's +upstairs, asleep, safe and well. But we feared we was going to lose +her in the spring, and I never see a child struck down but I think of +_her_." + +"I often think of little Polly, too," says the old man sympathisingly, +"and of how near she was to death. Do you remember how Lily grieved?" +"Remember it!" exclaims Mrs. Podmore, with grateful enthusiasm. "I +shall remember it to my dying day. What I should have done without her +I don't know. When Polly was a-laying there so quiet and solemn and +white, and my heart was fit to break, Lily used to come and cheer me +up. She was the only comfort I had, bless her kind heart and pretty +face!" + +"Yes, yes," cries the old man eagerly; "and how Polly took to her +after that! and how fond she was of my girl! But who could help being +that--who could help being that?" + +"I had enough to do, what with looking after Jim and Polly," continues +the homely woman. "What with keeping the place clean and sweet, and +making the things the doctor ordered, and mending Jim's clothes, and +getting his dinner and tea ready for him every morning before he went +out; and what with him coming home dead-beat and worried with anxiety +about Polly, I wonder how I ever got through with it. As for doctors, +my blood curdles again when I see them looking so steady and cold at +somebody that's a-dying before their very eyes. Our Polly had been +abed nigh upon three weeks, when the doctor comes and looks at her and +feels her pulse, and shakes his head. My eyes was never off his face +for a second; and when I saw him shake his head, I turned so faint +that I thought I should have dropped. He was going away without a +word, when I stopped him in the passage. I tried to speak, but I +couldn't, and I thought it was cruel of him to be so particular about +buttoning his gloves, while I was in that state of agitation that I +could hardly stand. 'Don't take on so, Mrs. Podmore,' he said; 'you've +done your best, and that ought to be a consolation to you.' As if +anything could have been a consolation to me! I asked him if he +couldn't give me a bit of hope; but he shook his head again, and said, +'While there's life there's hope.' I knew what that meant, and I had +to catch hold of the banisters to steady myself. Then I went and sat +by Polly's bed, and began to cry. It seemed to me that she was gone +from us already, and that home wasn't home any more. And I was +frightened when I thought of Jim. His heart's bound up in Polly, you +see, Mr. Wheels; they used to have quite a little play between them of +a morning. She'd creep close to him in bed, and put her arms round his +neck, and there they'd lay a-cuddling one another for half an hour +before he had to get up. When he had had his breakfast and had kissed +her a dozen times, and was out in the passage going to work, she'd +call him back and make fun of him, and they'd laugh together that +cheery like that it did my heart good to hear 'em. Sometimes she +wouldn't call him, and he'd wait in the passage. She knew he was +waiting, and she'd set up in bed, with a cunning little smile on her +lips, and her head bent forward, and her pretty hand raised, +listening. He knew what was going on inside that little head of hers, +and he'd stamp his feet and pretend to go downstairs. Then she'd call +out to him, 'Father, father!' and he'd say, 'Here I am, Pollypod!' and +they'd have another romp together, until he said, 'Now I _must_ be +off, Pollypod!' and away he'd run, waking half the people in the house +with his clatter. I was always easy in my mind about Jim when he went +away like that. I thought of all this after the doctor gave Polly up, +and I was frightened. Jim was very late that night, and Lily was with +me when he came home. 'How's my little Pollypod?' he said; but he +didn't wait for an answer--he saw it in my face. I thought he'd have +gone mad; but we got him quieted after a bit, and Lily sat up with me +that night watching. Well, it was a little past four o'clock in the +morning, and Jim was asleep, and Lily and me was watching and fearing, +watching and fearing! Ah! it's an anxious time that watching of a +night, when you fear you're a-going to lose something that's dearer to +you than life! The tick of the clock then isn't like the tick of the +clock at any other time. It seems to bring a warning to you, like; it +sounds so solemn, that it brings a creeping feeling on you, and you're +almost too frightened to look over your shoulder. That night we could +have heard a pin drop, everything was so quiet. Polly was so still +that I put my face close to hers on the pillow to catch her breathing, +and I was laying like that when she opened her eyes quite wide. It +gave me a dreadful turn, for I didn't know what was going to happen. +But she opened her eyes for good, thank God! 'Where's father?' she +asked. I couldn't have heard her, she said it so soft, if my face +hadn't been close to hers, and if my heart hadn't been in my ears. +'Where's father?' she asked. I motioned to Lily, and she woke Jim; and +Polly moved her thin little hand towards him and smiled. She wanted to +put her hand on his neck, but she was that weak she couldn't. So Jim, +with the tears running down his face, but making believe to laugh as +if they was having a game together, puts his face quite close to hers, +and kisses her, and from that moment Polly mended; and father and her +they romp together in the morning as they used to do, and pretend more +than ever, I think." + +Here Mrs. Podmore wipes her eyes, and asks the old man to forgive her +for being such a gossip. "I've come to ask you, as you're going to +stay in, to tell Jim, if he comes home before I'm back, that I won't +be gone long." + +"I'll tell him; and perhaps, Mrs. Podmore, you wouldn't mind my asking +your husband if he would go to the music-hall, and bring Lily home. I +can't leave my daughter, you see, and Alf's not here, and I don't like +the idea of Lily walking through the streets by herself." + +"Ask him and welcome," says Mrs. Podmore; "but, love your heart Mr. +Wheels, Jim'll be that sleepy when he comes upstairs that I don't +think he's to be trusted. He can hardly see hisself home when he's +done work, he's that worked off his legs; and he's worse on Saturday +than on any other night. How he manages to tumble through the streets +is more than I can tell; it's a mercy he ain't run over. He always +waits in the passage for me to come and help him up, and when he _is_ +up, he tumbles down dead beat. That's why I asked you to tell him +about my being out, you being nearest the street-door. To be sure +Jim is a little brighter sometimes than others, and he may be so +to-night." + +The old man clings to this hope, and nods to Mrs. Podmore, who hurries +out of the house. Then the old man falls to counting the seconds until +Mr. Podmore makes his appearance. He has not long to wait. In a short +time he hears the street-door opened and slammed-to. "That's Mr. +Podmore," says the old man, starting from his chair and listening +anxiously; "I hope he's not too tired to go." + +Mr. Podmore seems to be not only too tired to go, but too tired to +come. When he has slammed the street-door, he leans against it, and +dozes. He has no need to close his eyes, for they were closed when he +opened the door. He remains in this position for a few moments, then +shuffles along the passage. Coming to the stairs, he sits upon the +lowest step, and yields to the soft-sleeping murmurs which are +overpowering him. Rousing himself, he sets himself in motion again, +and begins to ascend the stairs, dragging his feet wearily, and falls +asleep again before he arrives at the landing. In this way he reaches +the old man, who is waiting to speak to him, and who is already +tormented by the fear that this is not one of Mr. Podmore's bright +nights. + +Mr. Podmore is followed by a dog--a rough, yellow Scotch +terrier--every hair in whose body bristles with watchfulness. It is a +small dog, viciously faithful, and as it waits patiently and +intelligently upon its master's movements, observing every motion with +its watchful grey eyes, it declares clearly, "Here am I, wide awake, +and armed at all points. Touch him if you dare with any but a friendly +hand! Address him at your peril in any but a friendly voice! I'm on +guard, faithful and true, and I can distinguish friends from foes. I +can smell them." No signs of impatience are visible in the dog's +demeanour at Mr. Podmore's slow progress upstairs. It follows its +master's footsteps with serious attention, watches while he dozes, +pricks up its ears as he sets himself in motion again, and now stands +on the landing before the old man with its nose close to its master's +legs. + +"Good-evening, Mr. Podmore," says the old man. + +"Good-evening." + +He blinks at the light which the old man holds in his hands, closes +his eyes, and shows so decided a disposition to lean against nothing, +that the old man has to save him from falling. This arouses him for a +moment, and seeing the door open, he staggers into the room, and sinks +into a chair. He is a well-made man, thirty years of age perhaps, and +belongs unmistakably to the working classes--to one of the most +perilously-worked of the working-classes. He carries a blue-cotton +pocket-handkerchief containing an empty basin and plate which has held +his dinner, and his hands and face are black with dirt. As he sits in +the chair, having fallen rather heavily into it, the dog stretches +itself under the seat, with its nose between its master's legs. You +can see nothing of it but the tip of its nose and its two watchful +grey eyes, steady and clear and humid, on the look-out for squalls. + +"Where's my wife?" murmurs Mr. Podmore drowsily. + +"She asked me to tell you," replies the old man, regarding Mr. Podmore +doubtfully, "that she's gone to see her sister's child, who is ill. +She'll be back soon." + +"All right," says Mr. Podmore, upon whose ears the old man's gentle +voice falls so soothingly that the soft sleep-murmurs take more +complete possession of him; he sways forward in his chair, and is on +the point of falling to the ground on his face, when he recovers +himself by a sudden convulsive movement. + +"Hush!" says the old man, casting an apprehensive look towards the +bed. "Don't make a noise." + +"Never fear," murmurs Mr. Podmore. "I have enough--noise--every +day--to last me--my life-time." + +He does not say this all at once, but breaks off two or three times to +doze. Seeing him in this condition, the old man relinquishes his +intention of asking him to go for Lily; his great anxiety now is to +get rid of the tired-out man. But Mr. Podmore, overpowered by +exhaustion, and wooed by the quiet that prevails, is so desperately +bent upon falling into a deep sleep, that the old man has much +difficulty in arousing him. + +"Come, come," he urges, "rouse yourself, Mr. Podmore. Don't you think +you would be more comfortable in bed?" + +"I'm comfortable--enough," says Mr. Podmore, leaning his head on the +old man's breast; "if you'll--let me be. I'm dead--beat. Where's +my--precious--little Pollypod?" + +"Up-stairs. Waiting for you. I want to take you to her." + +Mr. Podmore rises unresistingly, and they stagger up-stairs to his +apartment on the third floor. The dog follows them. A candle is alight +in the wash-bowl, and Pollypod is in bed, asleep. The dog, satisfied +that a safe haven is reached, leaps upon the bed, and after licking +Pollypod's face, curls itself at the foot of the bed, following its +master's movements now with lazily-watchful eyes. Mr. Podmore clings +to the old man, who assists him on to the bed, and determines to wait +until the tired-out man is asleep. Mr. Podmore, nestling close to +Pollypod, thinks it necessary to enter into an explanation before his +senses entirely desert him, and he mingles his apologies with +expressions of endearment towards his child. + +"You see, Mr. Wheels," he murmurs, at intervals, "when a man's--a +pointsman--(my little darling!)--and has to be at it--fourteen and +sixteen and eighteen--hours a day--he ain't accountable--for hisself. +The company says--he is--and the public says--he is; but I'm--a +pointsman--and I know--better. (Don't I, Pollypod!) I've been on +duty--now--since five o'clock--this morning--and I'm dead--beat. +(Dead--beat, Pollypod!) What'd the public--say to that--if they knew +it? I'm dead--beat--and I ain't accountable--for myself. (Am I, +my pretty?) I wish the public--and the company--'d try it +theirselves,--for a month. (To-morrow's Sunday, Pollypod, thanks be!) +Last week--there was a--a accident--on our line--you saw it--in the +papers. One woman--was killed--and others was--shook. The papers had +articles on it--and the pointsman--who was dead--beat--was took in +custody--and the coroner--said--said----" + +But what the coroner said is not repeated on the present occasion, for +Mr. Podmore falls into utter unconsciousness, and being undoubtedly as +dead-beat as it is in the power of mortal to be, sleeps the deepest of +deep sleeps. While the faithful dog, cozily coiled up on the bed, +blinks and blinks at the candle, in a state of uncertainty as to +whether a lurid star which gleams in the long dull wick is friend or +foe. + + + + + CHAPTER II. + + IN WHICH DRIBBLE JUNIOR DISCOURSES ON CO-OPERATION. + + +The old man, leaving Mr. Podmore in paradise, walked slowly +down-stairs, and paused before a door on the second landing, on which +was inscribed--again in yellow round-hand on a blue ground: "Umbrella +and Parasol Hospital. Knock and enter." After a slight hesitation, he +knocked and entered. + +J. Gribble junior was hard at work mending ribs and bones, and +speedily recovering frames on moderate terms. Mrs. J. Gribble junior +was also hard at work on silk and gingham. The heir of the house of +Gribble junior was asleep in a corner under an umbrella tent. + +There could not have been fewer than a hundred umbrellas and parasols +in the room, and there was not one of them which did not show signs of +having seen a great deal of life--evidently much more than was good +for it. Here was one reclining against the wall, surmounted by a great +knob set upon one side of its head. It had a rakish and dissipated +air, and seemed to declare that it had been out late at nights, in all +sorts of company and all sorts of weather, and liked it; and that when +the slits in its silk coat were mended, it intended to resume its +dissolute life. Here was one, a sad-looking gingham, very faded and +worn, telling by the plainest of signs the story of its poor life and +that of its owner. In your fancy you could see the faded gingham, on +its rickety frame, being borne along through wind and sleet; and if +you peeped beneath the awning you would see a patient-looking woman, +meanly dressed, and you would know, without being told in so many +words, that the burden of life had withered all the roses that once +bloomed on her cheek; for a dozen years since she could have been but +a girl, and could not have been otherwise than pretty. Here was one, +thin and sleek, with ivory handle, which said, "I am faded gentility." +It needed no great stretch of the imagination to see the hand in its +well-worn and much mended glove that had clasped that handle in the +streets for many months. Here was one which proclaimed, "I have been +dropsical from early youth, and there is no cure for me;" and indeed +all Gribble junior's skill would not avail him if he endeavoured to +get the bulge out of it. In addition to these and other types--almost +as various as the types to be found in human beings--were naked +umbrellas and parasols which had been stripped of their clothing. +Here was one battered and bruised, with half-a-dozen ribs broken. Here +was one which asserted proudly, "I am Paragon, and I glory to show +myself!" Here was the dainty frame of a parasol standing like a +shamefaced girl by the side of the frame of an old-man umbrella that +had led a bad life. + +"Ah, Mr. Wheels!" said Gribble junior. "I thought it was too late for +a patient.--Mrs. J. G., a chair." + +"Thank you, thank you, Mr. Gribble," replied the old man. "I'll not +sit down, please. The little one well, Mrs. Gribble?" + +Mrs. Gribble junior went to the umbrella tent, and softly raised it. +But the face of the heir of the house of Gribble junior was hidden +by a parasol, of which the child had made an inner tent, like the +box-within-a-box Chinese puzzle, and which it held tightly in its +hand. + +"Quite well, thank you, Mr. Wheels," said the mother. "How is your +daughter to-night?" + +"I don't think she's improving. She wanders a good deal." + +Gribble junior, who had been gazing with a satisfied air at the +umbrella tent, nodded gently two or three times to express sympathy +with the old man, who remarked, speaking of the child, "He takes to +the business early, Mr. Gribble." + +"Took to it from a baby," said Gribble junior complacently. "He sucked +in the umbrella and parasol business with his mother's milk, as a body +might say. For the top of his cradle was made of two umbrellas, and +when he opened his little eyes and looked up, the only roof he saw, +until he could crawl, was a roof of silk and whalebone. Nothing like +commencing young! That there young un's going to be a useful member of +society. I made up my mind to that before Mrs. J. G. made up her mind +to present him to me, as a body might say. He can use his left hand as +well as his right. No rights and lefts for me. They shall both be +rights. It's robbing a young un of half his chance in the world to +train him up to a useless hand. You might almost make up your mind to +train his left leg to limp. That's not the way to keep moving. I +shouldn't wonder if, when the young un's a man, he invents a new +umbrella to astonish the world and make our fortunes." + +The old man smiled, and remarked that Gribble junior was at work late. + +"Obliged to be. My motto, you know--keep moving. I always think," and +Gribble junior sent a pleasant merry look in the direction of the old +man, "that it's going to rain to-morrow, and that people'll want +umbrellas." + +"Very good of you, very considerate," murmured the old man. + +"It wouldn't be so bad," continued Gribble junior, "if other people, +whether they're professors of anatomy or not, would think the same +way; if _they'd_ think it was going to rain to-morrow, and if _they'd_ +prepare their umbrellas to-day--as a body might say." + +"Surely, surely," said the old man, contriving by an effort to arrest +his wandering thoughts. "And how's business, Mr. Gribble?" + +"Never was so bad," replied Gribble junior cheerfully. "Father's +experience'll carry him a good deal farther back than mine will, as +you may guess, Mr. Wheels, and he says times never was so bad as they +are now." + +(It is remarkable, be where you will and at any period, here or in any +other part of the world, now or twenty years since or twenty years to +come, that "times never were so bad" as they are certain to be at the +moment of inquiry.) + +"What is the cause of the bad times?" asked the old man, who had not +yet found the opportunity of introducing the object of his visit, and +who knew that Gribble junior must always "have his say." + +"Well, Mr. Wheels," said Gribble junior, hammering softly on a +dislocated rib, "some _will_ have it it's because the Queen don't come +out more; but that's an old cry, and I don't believe in it. Though I +think it would be better if the Queen came amongst us more than she +does. It's queer how people _will_ stick to old cries. Old cries are +like old boots. You wear tight boots long enough, and they'll become +easy and comfortable, and you don't like to throw 'em off. Father says +it's the co-operative stores, and he's bitter on 'em accordingly. If +father's got a sore place, it's co-operation. You should start him on +the subject one night; he'd open your eyes for you. There isn't an +article you can mention that co-operation hasn't laid hands on--except +cats'-meat, perhaps. The co-operative men don't draw the line nowhere, +except at cats'-meat. There isn't a thing that father sells that they +haven't gone into: not that father's business is the only business +that's put upon. They go into coffins, and that's going far enough, +I'm sure--as a body might say. They take a penny off everything; +tallow-dips, yellow soap and mottled. As for scented and brown +windsor, father hasn't sold a cake for a month. And if things don't +sell, they spoil. Dust won't be denied. Then soap withers. It's like +us, Mr. Wheels; the bloom goes off, and we ain't worth as much a pound +as we were once on a time. We don't weigh so much neither: the sap +goes out. Flies make inroads. They're like co-operation; they touch +everything. The very mouse-traps get blown. As for what ought to be +inside of 'em--mice--I needn't tell you what a hole they make in +profits. I pity the small grocers now that co-operation's got hold of +things." + +During the brief pause that followed, the old man listened for a sound +from the sick-room. Mrs. Gribble observed his anxiety, and knowing her +husband's weakness when he was on a favourite theme, rose and said, + +"Do take a chair, Mr. Wheels. I'll go and sit in your room for a few +minutes." + +The old man gave her a grateful look as she went out, and sat down +patiently. He had not, long to wait before Gribble junior resumed. + +"When trade began to fall off, I painted that sign outside for father, +and I think it did a little good, but not much. Trade soon fell back +again, and co-operation kept moving. Then he wrote, 'Down with +co-operation!' on a bit of writing-paper, and put it in the window, +as if that'd stop it. I told father not to do it, but he wouldn't +take my advice. What's the consequence? The paper's fly-blown, and +co-operation keeps moving. Father says he doesn't know where it's +going to stop, and what's going to be the end of it, and says that +people ought to set their faces against it. But catch 'em doing it +when they think they can get a penny off everything, and catch 'em +doing it as long as the women's got the buying of things. When they +get the chance of making the market penny, they're sure to try and +make it into the market shilling That's the way of women, bless 'em!" + +The old man nodded in satisfaction, for although Gribble junior's +words might have sounded very like grumbling from another man's lips, +they bore the most refreshing construction as they fell from his. He +had one of the pleasantest faces that eyes ever looked upon, and his +voice was as pleasant as his face. Everything about this small plump +man was round and agreeable. He was one of that kind of men who go out +walking with their wives on the day of rest, and who carry their +babies in the streets, and enjoy it. Gribble junior was often seen in +this position, and, as he walked along by the side of his wife, would +occasionally hold up his son and heir to the gaze of the public, as +much as to say, "Here he is; he can use his left hand as well as his +right, and is going to keep moving. Here is the cleverest baby in the +world: what do you think of him?" There is a great deal of character +to be learnt by observing the manner in which fathers carry their +babies in the streets, and notwithstanding that the custom is +considered by the majority of people to be namby-pamby, it is often +not an unpleasant sight to witness. One father carries his treasure +carefully and proudly, and proclaims, "This is Ours, and we think all +the world of it!" While another holds his burden loosely, and +proclaims, "This is Ours, and I wish it was Yours!" See this last +specimen of the British father slouching along, and his wife walking +discontentedly a few steps behind him. He carries his baby in the most +uncomfortable of positions, with its head hanging down. He is a +miserable dissatisfied man. He does not look this way or that, but +straight before him, surlily and wearily. He seems to say, "A nice +kind of thing this is, after my hard week's work! I can't go out for +my Sunday walk without dragging the brat along with me. What a fool I +was to get married!" And though really the burden is as a feather's +weight in the strong man's arms, his discontent makes it as weighty as +so much lead. There isn't a bright bit of ribbon in the child's dress, +and if you could see into the man's heart, you would learn that it +would not be a very great grief to him if the child were to die +quietly in his arms. You may depend upon it that the home of this man +and woman is not a happy one, and that life is truly a burden to +them. See this other and better specimen. Working-man father and +working-woman mother, in precisely the same position of life as the +discontented man. He carries the baby carefully and tenderly, and the +mother walks briskly by his side. There are refreshing bits of colour +about the woman's dress, and the baby's dress is, pretty and bright. +Sometimes the man pauses, and his wife uncovers the baby's face, and +they both look at it lovingly while she makes a fuss and pretence +about setting something right with the baby's hood. He gazes about him +cheerfully and seems to say, "This is one of my brightest bits of +sunshine. I shouldn't enjoy my Sunday's walk without it. What a happy +day for me was the day I got married!" And he thinks that soon--in +twelve months, perhaps--his little treasure will be able to toddle +along by his side, and throw bread to the ducks in the Park. And +though the child is plump and heavy, love makes it light. Happy +father! Happy home! + +No such reflections as these passed through the mind of Gribble junior +as he continued the enunciation of his sensible philosophy. + +"My way is, to take things as they come, and to keep moving. You knock +your head against things, and you're sure to rasp your skin. What's +the use of fretting? You only chafe yourself, and nobody takes any +notice. Make the best of things. That's what I tell father; but he +doesn't agree with me. The consequence is, that he shows his weak +hand, as a body might say. And that's not wise. If you have a +weakness, keep it to yourself. Don't let the world see it. Father said +to me one night last week when he was shutting up--(he'd only taken +three and fourpence the whole day, and that's enough, I own, or isn't +enough, perhaps I ought to say, to drive a shopkeeper wild)--that if +he could catch hold of a co-operation manager, he'd pitch into him. I +told him that if he did, he'd very likely get locked-up for it; and he +said, 'Never mind, I shouldn't be the only martyr that's suffered in a +good cause.' The fact is, Mr. Wheels, father belongs to the old +school--he won't keep moving; and as all the world's on the move, he's +left behind. I belong to the new school; and I run along with the tide +as fast as I can. Mrs. J. G. belongs to the new school, and so does +her brother. His name is Thompson. He's got a shop about half a mile +from here. He advertises himself everywhere as Thompson the Great. He +has thousands of bills circulated: 'The great Thompson! the unrivalled +Thompson! Thompson the First! Come and see him to-night. No charge for +admission. Where's Thompson? Who's Thompson?' That's his style. He has +an illumination over his shop every night, with his portrait in the +middle--although he's not a handsome man by any means. And what do you +think his business is? He keeps a little paper-hanging shop. By-and-by +he'll have a big paper-hanging shop. He keeps moving." + +Here Gribble junior gave a finishing tap to the patient in hand, and +whipped off his apron. + +"I've done work for the night," he said. + +At the same moment Mrs. Gribble entered, and whispered to the old man +that the woman down-stairs was sleeping soundly. + +"That's where it is," said the old man, with a disturbed look; "that's +what I've come in for. She's got to have her medicine given to her +directly she wakes, and she won't take it from any other hand than +mine or Lily's; and it's now half-past ten o'clock, and I ought to be +at the Hall to bring Lily home, although it'll be an hour yet before +she's ready. Lily can't walk home by herself, especially on Saturday +night, when there are so many roughs about and so much money spent in +drink." + +"Where's Alf?" asked Gribble junior. + +"I don't know; he promised to be here at ten o'clock; but he hasn't +come." + +"Do you want Mrs. J. G. to sit with your girl down-stairs while you go +and fetch Lily?" + +"Didn't I tell you," said the old man fretfully, "that my daughter's +got to have her medicine given her directly she wakes, and that she +won't take it from anybody but me or Lily?" + +"Well, then," asked Gribble junior, with great good-humour, "do you +want me to go and fetch Lily?" + +"Yes--yes--yes," with a jealous little sigh between each yes, as if +the speaker were unwilling to give to another a task that he would +fain perform himself. "I came in to ask you. I thought of Mr. Podmore +at first; but he's dead-beat." + +Gribble junior's coat was off before the old man was finished, and he +was plunging his face in water. + +"What makes Lily late to-night?" he called out in the midst of his +plashing. + +"They've changed the programme, and she's got a new song to sing; and +her turn won't come on until past eleven o'clock. The manager's an +artful man, and knows what an attraction Lily is; the people'll stop +to the last to see her pretty face and hear her pretty voice. My +Lily!" He uttered the last words softly to himself, in a tone of +infinite tenderness. "Here are the tickets. This admits to the Hall; +show it to the man at the door, and he'll let you in. Wait until Lily +comes on; and when she has finished--which'll not be until they call +her back two or three times--go out at once, and ask your way to the +stage-door. This ticket'll admit you to the side of the stage. Tell +Lily I couldn't come because mother's not awake, and that I've sent +you to take care of her, and to bring her home." + +"All right," said Gribble junior, twisting himself into his coat, +delighted at the opportunity of getting free admission to a +music-hall. "Get supper ready, Liz, by the time I come back. I'll +bring Lily safe home, Mr. Wheels." + +With a parting nod, the cheerful little man skipped down the stairs +and into the street, and the old man went back to his room. The woman +was still sleeping. He took up the work-box on which he had been +working, and looked at it affectionately. "My Lily!" he murmured +again, in the same tone of tenderness he had used before; and so sat +musing, with that yearning of deep love which is almost painful in its +intensity. Soon the Swiss clock struck eleven, and the old man laid +the cloth for supper. There was the little cruet on wheels, and the +breadbasket, and the salt-cellar; and each plate and dish had a wooden +rim on the bottom, in which very small wheels were inserted. He took +these and the remains of a small joint of roast beef from a cupboard +on the landing; placed the vase with the roses in it in the centre of +the table; went out for beer; and when he returned, arranged the +supper-things again and again, until he was satisfied that everything +was in the exact place to please his darling. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + + INTRODUCES THE ROYAL WHITE ROSE MUSIC-HALL. + + +Gribble junior had the finest spirits of any man in London. Nothing +jarred upon him. From the days of his infancy, when he used to munch +his knuckles contentedly, to the present time, he was never known to +be out of temper. He had never had a ten-pound note to call his own, +and he was always blithe and happy. His father had been a struggling +small tradesman all his life, taking just enough over his counter to +keep body and soul together, as he expressed it; and therefore, +although Gribble junior was his son, he could scarcely be called his +heir. But the lucky junior came into a rare inheritance from his +mother--the inheritance of a cheerful nature. Such a patrimony is +worth more than great estates and much money. + +He was in one of his happiest moods as, in accordance with his own +maxim, he pushed along and kept moving towards the Royal White Rose +Music-hall. It was not ten minutes' walk from his lodgings in Soho; +but it might have been situated in another land, so great was the +contrast between his quiet street and that in which the Royal White +Rose asserted itself. The difference between the two localities was +something similar to that between a poor peaceful woman treading +life's path humbly and unassumingly, and a flaunting shameless madam, +painted and bedizened, with everything glaring and everything false +about her. The narrow pathway that led to the Royal White Rose was +almost blocked up by the busy crowd of men and women and boys and +girls with which it was filled. The living stream moved, it is true; +but the waters were unhealthful and turbid, and ran sluggishly. In one +part of the thoroughfare it was dark, and the shops were closed; in +another--that portion which was in immediate contiguity to the Royal +White Rose--every shop was open and driving a busy trade. Hansom cabs, +with senile men and painted women in them, were rattling along; +man-rakes and boy-rakes--from the twelve-year-old smoking his penny +cigar with his hands in his pockets, to the fifty-year-old with his +hat on one side and his black whiskers and dandy cane--sauntered idly +this way and that, and often stopped to exchange light words and looks +with the girl-rakes and women-rakes, who out-vied them in numbers and +boldness. Unrestrained license prevailed in this saturnalia. Laughing +indecency, painted misery, and flagrant violations of all that is +modest and good, unblushingly proclaimed themselves in the very eye of +the law. The corruption was open. There was no attempt at disguise in +this legalised Mart of Shame, through which, as it forms an important +lung of the City, many good men and women must necessarily walk. How +innately pure must be that rose of modesty that can escape defilement, +when brought into contact with it! + +The Royal White Rose Music-hall was situated almost in the centre of +the Mart of Shame, and Gribble junior paused for a moment at the +entrance of the Hall, which was blazing with light. Dozens of pompous +and fascinating announcements, in the largest letters and in the most +brilliant of coloured inks, lined both sides of the passage which led +to the pay-place. Upon these announcements Gribble junior gazed +admiringly. The Great This will appear. The Great That was engaged. +The Inimitable Noodle, who had been patronised by Royalty, would sing +his choicest songs. The Flashiest Man in London to-night. The Pretty +Lily at half-past eleven. The Incomparable Lackbrain (the Pet of the +Drawing-room) would sing "Fie, for Shame!" and "The Only Way to enjoy +Life." And so on and so on. + +Gribble junior made his way into the Hall, which was crowded to excess +with flash men and women, with working people of both sexes, and with +boys and girls sucking in bad and foolish lessons eagerly. The +Incomparable Lackbrain was on the stage, singing "Fie, for Shame!" to +the intense delight of his hearers. He was a tall lank man, with a +painfully vacuous countenance, and "Fie, for Shame!" was the recital +of the doings of a young man and a young woman who had met on a penny +steamboat, and whose vulgar words and allusions continually elicited +from one or the other the exclamation, most enjoyably uttered, "Fie, +for Shame!" The title of the song was the refrain of the chorus, in +which the audience were invited to join by the singer. Amazing were +the zest and vigour with which they complied with the invitation; the +men and women laughed and winked at one another, and cried, "Fie, for +Shame! Fie, for Shame!" and when the Incomparable disappeared, after +many an ungainly slouch, they clapped their hands and shouted for him +to return. The Chairman struck twice upon his bell, and the well-known +signal provoked another burst of applause. In the interval between the +songs, Gribble junior observed and admired; for it would be useless to +deny that the honest fellow enjoyed the scene immensely. His ticket +admitted him to the stalls, where the Chairman, with a dyed moustache +and a large nose, sat upon his throne, the cynosure of a thousand +admiring eyes. Gribble junior managed to squeeze himself into a seat +near this potentate, who was looked upon with awe by the youthful +portion of the audience, and whose chief duty appeared to consist in +smoking unlimited cigars and drinking unlimited brandies and whiskies +hot at the expense of certain favoured frequenters of the Hall. In the +programme, which Gribble junior had purchased for a penny, was a +portrait of the Chairman, in which his large nose was considerably +toned down, as a body might say (to use one of Gribble junior's +favourite phrases), and his moustache presented a noble and imposing +appearance. A biography of the distinguished man was also given, in +which he was credited with many rare qualities, and from which you +would infer that his career was one of spotless virtue; but had you +been aware of the true facts of the case, you would have regarded the +biography with considerable doubt. Gribble junior read also in the +programme an advertisement of an eminent music-seller in the West, who +had published those justly popular and refined favourite songs, "Fie, +for Shame!" and "The Only Way to enjoy Life!" with a portrait of the +composer on the title-page. As he was reading this, the band struck up +a well-known air, and the Incomparable Lackbrain appeared in an +outrageous costume to instruct the audience in "The Only Way to enjoy +Life." According to his laying down of the law, the only time to enjoy +life was after midnight; the only place, in the streets; and the only +method, to drink champagne and brandy hot until you reeled home to +your bed at three o'clock in the morning in a state of intoxication. +The Incomparable illustrated the last phase. He set his hat at the +back of his head, pulled his hair over his eyes, untied his cravat and +let it hang loose, hitched his coat off one shoulder, buttoned his +waistcoat awry, and pulled one leg of his trousers nearly up to his +knees. In this condition he reeled about the stage, and drivelled and +laughed like an imbecile; and, having thus distinguished himself, +retired, after an egregiously stupid speech, in which he returned +ungrammatical thanks to his admirers for their appreciation of his +efforts. Then another singer appeared, who sang only one song; for as +this was the last night of his engagement, it was the Chairman's +policy to show by his indifference that the popularity of the Royal +White Rose Music-hall would not be diminished by the retirement of +this performer. Consequently he did not lead the applause by rapping +on the table with his little hammer, and did not give the usual signal +on the bell for the singer's reappearance. But he did rap very loudly +before he rose to announce, with great pleasure, the fascinating Lily; +and when he sat down he led the applause smartly and vigorously. +Gribble junior was not the only one who joined in the applause with +spirit. Nearly every person in the Hall lent a hand, and great +clapping came from a private box at the corner of the stage, towards +which many a curious and envious gaze had been directed during the +night. There was a little table in that box, on which were a +champagne-bottle and glasses, and two gentlemen were there, one +sitting and the other standing. The one who was standing was the +well-known manager and proprietor of the Royal White Rose Music-hall, +and every now and then he leant from the box and surveyed his patrons, +some of whom nudged each other, and pointed him out as the great +manager who had risen from nothing. About an hour ago a bottle of +champagne had been sent down from the box to the bottle-nosed +Chairman, who had filled his own and one or two other glasses, and, +before he drank, had looked towards the donor with a half-respectful, +half familiar glance. These small circumstances had rendered the box +an object of interest to the audience. + +A working-man said to his wife, "There's a swell up in that box; he's +drinking champagne, and treating the manager." + +"What's champagne like, Bill?" the wife asked. + +"Don't know; never tasted it," was the gruff rejoinder. + +"It must be dreadfully nice," said the wife, with a woman's longing +for things. + +These paradoxical phrases are not confined to working-women; +ladies in polite society are in the habit of giving utterance to such +unmeaning combinations of words that we may expect presently to hear +certain matters spoken of as sweetly murderous or delightfully +disgusting. + +The gentleman in the box, then, who sat with his back to the audience, +applauded energetically when the fascinating Lily was announced, and +the manager, as in duty bound, applauded also, but more graciously +than the other. + +"You've only seen her once," observed the manager. + +"Only once," replied the gentleman. "I strolled in last night to kill +half an hour, and was surprised to see such a little beauty come on +the stage. How long has she been out?" + +"Nearly eight months. There's nothing very striking about her, but +she's pretty and simple and innocent----" + +"Pretty--and simple and innocent!" interrupted the gentleman, with a +light laugh. + +"Yes, I'm hanged if she isn't!" exclaimed Storks energetically. + +"And been in the Royal White Rose Music-hall, or any other music-hall, +rose or dandelion, for eight months?" interrupted the gentleman again, +in the same light manner. + +Manager Storks looked displeased. "You've got the common notion," he +said; "because a girl's a ballet-girl or a singer, she can't be +honest, I suppose! You don't know so much about them as I do, that's +clear." + +It came into the gentleman's mind to answer, "I don't suppose I do; +_I_ didn't marry a ballet-girl." But as Manager Storks did marry a +ballet-girl, who was a good and industrious wife, and as he was at +present master of the situation, the gentleman wisely held his tongue. +Storks proceeded: + +"I could show dozens of ballet-girls who'd reckon you up in no time, +and who'd snap their fingers at your----" + +"There, there!" cried the gentleman, putting his fingers in his ears. +"Stop it, there's a good fellow. I don't want a lecture upon the +virtues of ballet-girls. I only meant that it's against the order of +things for a pretty girl to be in a music-hall for eight months, and +to be as simple and innocent as you make out Lily to be. She may be as +goody-goody as a missionary's daughter, for all I care." + +But although he expressed himself in this indifferent manner, he was +not at all indifferent when Lily came on the stage. + +"By Jove!" he exclaimed, under his breath, "she _is_ a little beauty!" +And he clapped his hands, and threw a handsome bouquet to her. + +As Lily stooped and picked up the flowers, the applause was redoubled. +She stood before the motley assembly with the flowers in her hand, and +her sweet innocent face beamed like a star amidst the atmosphere of +smoke and heat. Truly, what had been enacted previously within the +Royal White Rose Music-hall gave the lie to the title; but here was a +rose, a pure white rose, which justified it. She was dressed in white +silk, and had white flowers in her hair. She recognised Gribble +junior, and gave him a little smile, which filled him with delight and +made him look round with pride. The gentleman in the box saw the +smile, and the individual at whom it was directed. + +"Does she know that cad down there?" he asked of Manager Storks +curiously. He would have given something for such a smile, but Lily +did not raise her eyes to the box. + +"Seems like it," was the reply. + +"He looks like a potman. Hush! What a sweet voice she has!" + +The sweetest of voices--pure and fresh, sounding strangely indeed in +such a place. There was not one in the Hall to whom her simple song +and almost childlike manner did not afford pleasure. "How pretty she +is! How young! Is that hair all her own? She paints o' course. What a +stunnin' little foot she's got! Let's 'ave 'er in agin. Ah, _she'll_ +soon get spoilt! Lackbrain's awfully sweet on her, I heerd. So is that +gent in the box." Suchlike comments were made freely in the Hall, as +were also a few others of a different nature. Said one painted young +woman in pink silk to another in blue, "She's the very image of my +sister Bess as she was twelve years ago. I've got a picture of her at +home." And another, a faded woman--you could see she was that, +notwithstanding all her finery--sighed and said to her companion, +"That was mother's favourite song. Many's the time she's sung it to +me." And the memory of the days when she led a better life acted upon +her parched heart for a few moments like drops of dew. But the +softening influence soon died away in the glare and the smoke and the +bad surroundings. + +The noise in the Hall was at its highest as Gribble junior pushed his +way through the pleasure-and-pain seekers. Being directed by the +attendant, he soon found himself on the stage. It was dark and almost +quiet. The last song had been sung, and the last strains of music had +died away; the curtain was drawn up, and the waiters were collecting +the glasses and assisting to the door two or three "jolly dogs," who +were unable to assist themselves. + +Gribble junior surveyed these proceedings with considerable interest. +It was the first time in his life that he had ever been behind the +scenes, and he was surprised to find the place dirty and shabby and +unattractive. Although the Hall was closed, and no more business was +supposed to be done, there were a dozen persons at least drinking at a +bar in a corner. The Incomparable Lackbrain, the Inimitable Noodle, +and the Flashiest Man in London, were there, laughing and drinking +with the manager and the gentleman who had occupied the private box. +He was a fair man, in the prime of life, and had just ordered a fresh +bottle of champagne. As he raised his glass to his lips, he glanced +towards the stage, and saw the shadow of Gribble junior, who was +advancing towards Lily. + +"Oh, Mr. Gribble," she said, "how strange to see you here! Where's +grandpapa?" + +"He sent me for you, Lily," answered Gribble junior, "and told me to +tell you that he couldn't come for you himself, because your mother +wasn't awake, and he had to give her her medicine." + +"You must wait a little while," said Lily, with something of +disappointment in her voice, "as I have to fold my dresses. I always +put everything in order Saturday night. I sha'n't be long." + +And she tripped away, leaving Gribble junior looking after her +admiringly, and thinking what a bright little creature she was. + +"Who's that fellow?" asked the gentleman at the bar of the manager. + +Manager Storks did not reply; but, being jealous of strangers, and +probably having the fear of detectives in his mind, walked on to the +stage, followed by his friends. When Gribble junior explained that he +had come to fetch Lily home at the request of her grandfather, Manager +Storks grumbled, and told him to tell the old man to come himself for +Lily for the future. + +"I can't have all sorts of strangers knocking about my stage," he +said. + +Gribble junior received the rebuke humbly; he was fully sensible of +the privilege he was enjoying in being allowed to linger, if only for +a few minutes, behind the scenes. Some of the singers and performers +had followed Manager Storks, and they stood about in little groups, +talking--not in the most refined language, it must be confessed. The +luxury of adjectives was by far too freely indulged in. Gribble junior +did not think so; he positively glowed with delight. Was he not almost +rubbing elbows with the Inimitable Noodle and the Flashiest Man in +London, whose dress and walk hundreds of boys in London were +imitating! As for Lackbrain the Vacuous, his dull common face was +regarded with reverence by Gribble junior. In such enchanting company +the minutes flew away until Lily appeared, with the bouquet and a +little bundle in her hand. Gribble junior was advancing toward her +when he was pushed aside by the gentleman of the private box. + +"A friend of mine is anxious for an introduction, Miss Lily," said +Manager Storks. + +The friend of the manager, who was introduced as Mr. Sheldrake, raised +his hat, and Lily bowed and cast just a look at him; he murmured his +pleasure at being introduced to such a charming lily--"the fairest +flower in the entire Royal White Rose bouquet," he said gallantly. +Ready of speech and smooth of manner was Mr. Sheldrake as he addressed +Lily. He was not satisfied with Lily's bow, but held out his hand, on +the little finger of which was a plain band of gold, in which a +valuable diamond was set. Every respect was paid to the young girl, +who replied with smiles and simple words to the civilities of speech +with which she was greeted by one and another. Lackbrain the Vacuous +offered to see her home. + +"Thank you," she said, advancing to Gribble junior; "I have an +escort." And she placed her hand on Gribble's arm, and gave him the +bundle to carry. + +"Let me have the pleasure of driving you home," said Mr. Sheldrake in +his most agreeable voice; "my brougham is at the door." + +Lily shook her head laughingly, and thanked him, but she preferred to +walk. + +"Then I'll walk a few steps with you," he said pertinaciously. + +Gribble junior did not like the proposal, neither did Lily approve of +it; but Mr. Sheldrake was not to be shaken off. When they left the +Hall it was half an hour after midnight. The Sabbath-day had +commenced, and had not commenced well. The glare of a noonday sun +could scarcely have been more powerful in its effect than the bright +light which fell from the open shops on the people and the +thoroughfare. Fish-shops and glove-shops, cigar-shops and refreshment +houses, the first and last especially, were driving a brisk trade. The +pushing, the struggling, the anxious faces, the drunken forms, the +senseless enjoyment, the joyless mirth, the fevered life, the various +aspects in which human nature was there presented, were sad to +witness. Here and there in the scene were patches of shade formed by +narrow thoroughfares where no light was, and at the corners of these +thoroughfares, standing in the shade and forming part of it, policemen +might occasionally be seen, waiting quietly to play their part in the +torrent which the law allows to flow. Before one of these guardians of +the peace--most paradoxical designation in such a scene--two men of +the lower classes paused, and were immediately desired to move on. +They were costermongers; their appearance was as rough as their +speech. But that one of them at all events was logical, and that there +was reason in his logic, were in some measure proved by his speech. + +"This is Sunday, ain't it?" he asked. + +"Yes," answered the policeman good-humouredly, "and time for you to be +abed." + +"Thank yer for nothin', Bobby," he said, swaying slightly before the +policeman; "but my mate 'ere wants me to arks yer somethin' fust. He +wants to know why these 'ere swell shops is allowed to keep open arter +twelve o'clock on Saturday nights, and why he was summonsed afore the +beak for sellin' wegetables last Sunday?" + +"Come, move on," was the only reply from the policeman. + +"But, look 'ere now," urged the costermonger; "'ere he is with 'is +barrer----" + +"Yes, that's it, Dropsy!" exclaimed the second man, illustrating the +position with eloquent action. "That's it. 'Ere I am with my +barrer----" + +But the policeman, not at all disposed to parley, and not at all +curious to know the history of the man's "barrer," used effectual +arguments to relieve himself of the controversial costermongers, who +consoled each other, as they staggered away, by agreeing that "it was +a blazin' shame, that's what it was!" + +Through such scenes as this, Lily and her escort walked to the humble +home in Soho. Mr. Sheldrake almost entirely monopolised the +conversation, talking much about himself, and about the pleasure it +would give him to improve an acquaintance so agreeably commenced. +Notwithstanding that it was past midnight, he threw out hints that +nothing could afford him so much pleasure as being invited into the +house; but as no invitation followed the expression of this desire, he +was compelled to bid Lily good-night at the street-door. + +When he was alone, he stood in the quiet street, looking up at the +light in the room where the old man had been waiting anxiously for his +darling Lily. + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + + MR. DAVID SHELDRAKE COMES TO A SHREWD CONCLUSION. + + +Mr. David Sheldrake, smooth and bland in voice and manner, lingered +about the streets for several minutes. It was a beautifully clear +night, and he may have been inclined for meditation. His appearance +was sufficiently respectable for such an indulgence, and a policeman +who stood in the shadow of a doorway quietly observing him did not +think it necessary to interfere with him. He glanced up at the +first-floor window, and saw the shadow of a woman upon the blind. "I +wonder if that is her room," he thought. "What a little nugget she +is!" He wished that somebody would come to the street-door, that he +might ask if Lily lived on the first-floor; but no one came, and the +narrow street was still and quiet. "David," he said to himself, "that +girl's pretty face has quite bewitched you." He seemed to take +pleasure in the thought, and smiled to himself complacently. It was +evidently not the first time that he had been bewitched by a pretty +face. He took his cigar-case from his pocket, and, turning to a +doorway to obtain a light for his cigar, saw the policeman. + +"A fine night, policeman," he said. + +"Yes, sir," acquiesced the policeman civilly. + +"Been on this beat long, policeman?" + +"A considerable time, sir." + +"Pretty quiet about here, isn't it?" + +"Pretty quiet, sir. But we get enough trouble out there;" with a nod +of his head in the direction of the Royal White Rose Music-hall. + +"Ah, I daresay. Saturday nights especially." + +"As you say, sir; Saturday nights especially." + +"A cigar, policeman?" + +"No, thank you, sir; not allowed to smoke." + +Mr. Sheldrake coughed, and the policeman coughed in sympathy. + +"Can we get anything to drink about here, policeman?" + +"Not to-night, sir," said the policeman somewhat stiffly. + +"The houses shut at twelve, Saturday nights." + +His two bribes having been refused, Mr. Sheldrake bethought himself of +another. But first he said, as he put his hand into his pocket, + +"Who lives in that house opposite, policeman?" + +"Quite a number of people, sir. Half a dozen families, I should say." + +Here the jingle of money fell upon the policeman's ears. It produced a +curious effect upon him. He coughed a little cough, which might have +been interpreted, "Behold me, one of her Majesty's servants, always +ready to do my duty." Then he looked up at the sky, and down on the +pavement, and round on the houses, and anywhere but in the direction +where Mr. Sheldrake stood; murmuring at the same time dreamily, in a +soft musing tone, + + + "_Quite_ half a dozen families, I should say, sir." + + +As he murmured this, his hand may be said to have resembled a sly +rascal peeping round the corner, to find out things without wishing +to draw observation upon himself. Mr. Sheldrake's hand sought +that expressive hand, and found it in a lurking--not to say +slinking--position, hiding itself demonstratively in the cuff of the +policeman's coat. He slipped a piece of silver into it, and the jaws +of darkness instantly devoured it up. The policeman was evidently in +an unconscious state; for with the air of a man whose thoughts were +far away, he received the coin obliviously, and, in an absent manner, +conveyed it to the nearest pocket; then he coughed again, and assumed +the air of one just aroused from a little sleep. + +The "open, Sesame," having been thus discreetly administered, Mr. +Sheldrake learned from the policeman as much as that functionary knew +concerning Lily. Yes, Lily was her real name; everybody about here +knew her, and everybody liked her--children especially. She _was_ very +pretty and very young: not more than nineteen, he should say. Yes, she +lived on the first-floor of that house. She sang at the Royal White +Rose Music-hall, you know; his missus had often heard her, and was +quite in love with her. So was a good many others--not women, you +know. But she was different from some other girls in that +establishment who lived about here. How different? O, better, you +know. Couldn't tell how long that would last; no more could any one +else. He had seen a good many stage girls commence well and end badly. +How badly? Well, fast, you know. It was enough to turn a girl's head; +the lights, the music, the dresses, and the lots of swells with money +hanging round 'em. Didn't think it would turn this one's, though. Any +relatives? O, yes, she had a brother. Younger than her? No, a couple +of years older, he should say; very much like her; come home late +sometimes; a little fast, the young fellow was. And a mother, +bedridden; the doctor often goes there. And a grandfather; a strange +old fellow--a character. Immortality Wheels, people call him. Was that +his proper name? O, no; nicknames both of 'em. Why Immortality? Well, +he didn't quite know himself, but he'd been told it was because the +old fellow was fond of talking about the immortality of the soul. Why +Wheels? Well, he _did_ know that. Because the old fellow was always +saying that everything in the world ought to go upon wheels. Perhaps +there was something in the notion; things certainly would go easier. +He _had_ heard that the old fellow had made wheels for everything in +his place. Harmless old fellow; but curious notion, wasn't it? So the +young fellow's a little wild, eh? Well, most young fellows are, +nowadays. Very fond of each other, brother and sister are. + +While the policeman was distilling these scraps of information in a +leisurely manner, he and his companion were walking slowly towards the +Royal White Rose Music-hall, and just at the point of his asking +whether the old man's fancy was not a curious notion, they became +suddenly aware of a street disturbance in a thoroughfare not many +yards ahead of them. + +The policeman strolled leisurely in the direction of the noise, +pulling his belt tighter as he neared the spot from which the sounds +proceeded. Presently they came upon an angry crowd of men and women of +all ages and degrees, most of whom, judging from their excited +demeanour and noisy exclamations, had a personal interest in the +disturbance. "Let 'em go! What do you mean by pushing people about? +Bonnet 'em! Great hulking fellows like you!" Then a woman's voice, +very shrill, "Who am _I_, interfering? I'm a honest woman, that's what +I am! Ain't I? I'll make you prove your words! You want the papers +down on you agin, that what _you_ want. We sha'n't move on! We'll stop +here as long as we like!" And in the midst of all a clear and angry +voice, crying, "Take your hands off me! Take your hands off me, I +say!" The voice acted like a charm upon Mr. Sheldrake; he made his way +into the centre of the crowd, and soon ascertained that it was nothing +but an ordinary street row common to the neighbourhood, caused in the +first place by two or three persons lingering on the footpath, and +being desired to move on, and perhaps touched on the shoulder by a +policeman. The principal offender, and the most violent, was a young +man with a handsome face, the sight of which produced on Mr. Sheldrake +the same effect as his voice had done. And yet it was the first time +that these two had ever met. Upon such slight chances often does the +future hang, that men who have fought life's battle with all their +trength, and been bruised and bruised, may sometimes be pardoned for +thinking that it is mockery to struggle. + +At the moment of Mr. Sheldrake's appearance upon the scene, the young +man, in a state of great excitement was explaining to the people about +him that he was doing no harm; he was simply talking to a friend about +the Northumberland Plate, the race that was soon to be run at +Newcastle-on-Tyne, when the policeman pushed them into the road, and +said he would take them into custody if they stood there a moment +longer. The crowd cheered him as he spoke, and the police began to +lose their temper. The policeman who had accompanied Mr. Sheldrake, +and who fancied that that gentleman, from the interest he exhibited, +knew the offender, whispered to him, that if he wanted to save the +young fellow from getting into trouble, he had best get him away as +quickly as possible. + +"Now, then, _will_ you move out of this?" exclaimed another official, +about to lay hands upon the young man; Mr. Sheldrake quietly stepped +between them, knowing that the touch of the policeman's hand would be +adding fuel to flame. But for Mr. Sheldrake's interposition it would +have fared ill with the young fellow, who had worked himself into a +most unreasonable passion. + +"Come, come," said the peacemaker in a persuasive tone; "you don't +want to be locked up all night. The policemen have their duty to +perform, and you mustn't obstruct them." + +"I don't want to obstruct them, and I don't want to be locked up," +said the young man; "but what right had they to interfere with me and +my friends? Ask any one here if I was in the wrong." + +A dozen voices supported him in various ways, all of them +uncomplimentary to the police, one of whom grew so exasperated that he +exclaimed, in a tone of dangerous decision, "Now, then, if you don't +move off this minute, we'll march you to the station-house." He +produced his stave, and the others followed his example. This action +caused many among the mob to take to their heels, and they scampered +away, hooting as they ran. + +"They had _no_ business to interfere," whispered Mr. Sheldrake +hurriedly, placing his arm in that of the young man; "but don't you +see, that though you might have been in the right at first----" + +"Might have been!" interrupted the unreasonable young fellow hotly. "I +was!" + +"Well, although you _were_ in the right at first, you are in the wrong +now. Come, take the advice of a friend, and let us get out of this. +I don't like to see a young gentleman like you mixed up in such an +affair. Look at the riff-raff about. Where are your friends? Why, +_they've_ gone off, you see, and didn't mind leaving you in the +lurch.--All right, policeman, we're going." + +Thus urging and humouring, Mr. Sheldrake induced the young man to move +with him through the throng of people, who were inclined to hoot him +now for showing the white feather. The excitement, however, being +over, they rapidly dispersed, grumbling at the peaceable issue of the +affair. Soon Mr. Sheldrake and his charge were in a quieter part of +the neighbourhood, when the latter, still almost at fever-heat, asked +offensively, as if it were absolutely necessary he should fall foul of +somebody, + +"Perhaps you'll tell me who you are, interfering with my affairs. I +don't know you." + +"I don't suppose you do," replied Mr. Sheldrake with perfect good +humour. "Are you going home?" + +"What business may that be of yours?" asked the young man, not abating +his offensive tone. + +"I'll walk a little way with you if you are, that's all. Shall I make +a shrewd guess, and say that you live in Soho? Come, come; I see +that you are angry with me for interfering; but you must admit that +the position you are in now is better than being hauled along by +half-a-dozen policemen, with a mob hooting at their heels. Come, now, +admit that." + +"I sha'n't admit anything," exclaimed the young man sulkily. + +An angry impatient look passed like a flash of light into Mr. +Sheldrake's face at the young man's uncivil manner: but he suppressed +it instantly. They were walking slowly as they conversed, and Mr. +Sheldrake, allowing his companion to lead the way, observed with +secret satisfaction that they were walking in the direction of Lily's +house. + +"And neither should I, if I were in your place," he said. "I +should feel as indignant as you feel; it is only natural; but at the +same time, I think I should acknowledge to myself--not to any one +else--that it's better to be indignant and to cool oneself alone here +in the quiet streets, than to be dragged to the station-house, and +have the clothes torn off one's back. You were not born yesterday! +_You_ know what the police are, and how the magistrates side with +them. They'll swear anything when their blood's up; and there's never +any telling what kind of a scrape a man may get himself into with +them. I daresay you wouldn't like your people at home to see your name +on the wrong side of a police-court report." + +"That's true," said the young man in a somewhat softer tone, though +still with constrained manner; "it wouldn't be a nice thing for them." + +"Say that you had a sister now, how would she like it?" + +As Mr. Sheldrake hazarded this question, he threw a sharp look at his +companion, and smiled in self-approval when he heard the reply. + +"She wouldn't like it at all, and I wouldn't like it because of her." +He struggled to rid himself of his ungracious bearing, and partially +succeeded. "It seems to me, after all, that I have to thank you for +getting me out of the mess." + +He held out his hand. Mr. Sheldrake shook it cordially, saying, + +"A nice state of things it would be, if one gentleman wouldn't assist +another in such a case! Let us suppose that you are under an +obligation to me. Wipe it off by giving me a promise." + +"What kind of a promise?" asked the young man. + +"Why, that when you come upon me in a similar scrape to that I found +you in to-night, with my blood up, hot and naturally indignant, you'll +come and help me out of it as I've helped you. You'll see how I'll +take it! I shall be savage with you of course, at first, but give me +time to cool down, and you'll not find me backward in acknowledging +that you have acted by me and stood by me like an out-and-out friend." + +The young man laughed and promised, but did not express himself +confident of being able to act as judiciously as Mr. Sheldrake had +done. "For you're cool, you know," he said, "and not so easily fired +up as I am. Why, if you had answered me as I've answered you, I +couldn't have helped quarrelling with you." + +"I'm glad for one person's sake that I managed to escape that +unpleasant contingency," observed Mr. Sheldrake. + +"Do you mean for your own sake?" asked the young man coolly. + +"Not this time," replied Mr. Sheldrake, mentally confounding the young +fellow's impertinence. + +"For whose, then, may I ask? Not for mine, I hope; if so, you may save +yourself from farther anxiety upon the point." + +"O no, not for yours; for your sister's." + +"For Lily's! You know her then; and that's the reason of your coming +to my assistance." + +Mr. Sheldrake accepted this interpretation, and said, + +"If you tell her of what has occurred to-night----" + +"Of course I shall tell her," interrupted the young man. "I tell Lily +everything." + +"You may mention, then, that the gentleman who had the pleasure of +walking home with her to-night did you a little service. She spoke of +her brother to-night as we walked home. Your name must be Alfred." + +"Yes; that is my name." + +"Mine is Sheldrake. I shall be glad to improve our +acquaintanceship--that is, if you are willing." + +"O, I'm willing enough," replied Alfred half graciously; "but I'm not +a swell, you know." + +"Meaning that I am. None the worse for that, eh?" + +"No," said Alfred, throwing sufficient expression in his hesitating +manner of uttering that small word to express, "No, you're none the +worse for it; but I consider myself as good as you, or any man." + +"And it isn't a bad thing to be a swell nowadays, let me tell you," +remarked Mr. Sheldrake genially, clapping Alfred on the shoulder. "One +gets behind the scenes, and sees all sorts of things, and learns all +sorts of things. And after all it's only a question of money. Once a +gentleman, always a gentleman." + +"That's true," assented Alfred complacently, being now on very good +terms with himself. + +"Only a question of money," repeated Mr. Sheldrake, slowly and +thoughtfully; "and there's plenty of ways of making that." + +"That's true again," exclaimed Alfred eagerly, accepting a cigar from +Mr. Sheldrake's cigar-case. "Plenty of ways. I know a way. I'm going +to make a heap." + +"With a little luck and a little pluck, a man with brains--which +you've got, I'll be bound--can be as good as the best of them. He can +go up like a rocket." + +Mr. Sheldrake did not carry the simile farther. The rocket being in +the clouds, it suited his purpose to leave it there. "Plenty of ways +of making money! I should think there were, indeed; and these are just +the times." + +The speaker was evidently of the opinion that some of his words were +pearls of price, which should not be lost sight of. His utterances +just now seemed to be thickly studded with these pearls, for he +repeated thoughtfully, "Just the times." + +"So they are--so they are. You know a thing or two, I see." + +"Know a thing or two!" exclaimed Mr. Sheldrake, with modest +boastfulness. "Well, yes, I fancy I do." + +"I can put you up to something good," said Alfred, with a furtive +glance at his companion, "if you like, and if you'll keep it quiet." + +"Ay," returned Mr. Sheldrake, with an appearance of gratitude; "I'll +keep it quiet enough." + +"Do you do anything in racing?" + +"A little now and then. Between you and me, I made a good thing on the +Derby." + +"I thought so!" cried the young fellow in an exultant tone. "I thought +you knew all about racing! I say, do you keep a book? Do you belong to +any of the Clubs? Let's take a turn up the street." + +"But isn't it time for you to be in?" suggested Mr. Sheldrake, as if +unwilling to carry the conversation farther. + +"No, no; it doesn't matter for a few minutes. Lily's sure to wait up +for me. Besides, I have a latch-key. I wish we could go and sit down +somewhere, and have a chat and a drink. But all the places are shut, +worse luck." + +"Didn't I tell you that I was behind the scenes?" said Mr. Sheldrake +airily. "One never need be at a loss in London if he knows the ropes. +Now I'll be sworn there's a house ready to receive us within a hundred +yards of where we stand, although it is past one o'clock on Sunday +morning. I know others, but they are too far away." Alfred followed +every word with admiring interest. This man of the world, this swell +who was behind the scenes, and who seemed to know everything worth +knowing, was a superior being in his eyes. "Let us walk towards the +policeman. Don't be surprised; it will, be a pleasant meeting enough, +although your late experience might lead you to an opposite opinion." + +"But why towards a policeman?" asked Alfred. + +"He'll tell us of a house of entertainment, where we can have that +chat and a drink you proposed. If a thief wants to hide, let him hide +in a crowded city. If you want to do an illegal act, do it in the eye +of the law. As I'm going to do this, with of course a proper +application of the magic key." + +Alfred thought his companion one of the most genial and brightest of +men, and inquired what Mr. Sheldrake meant by the magic key. + +"Tip," replied that gentleman; "the greatest institution of the age. +Tip, the palm-tickler. If it hadn't been for that, how do you think I +could have got you out of your scrape to-night? I've travelled about +here and there, and I don't think there's a city in the world where +the institution of Tip is so thoroughly understood and appreciated as +in this very city of London. It will carry you anywhere, effect any +object, get you out of any scrape, if you know how to apply to it. +But it requires to be administered delicately, its nerves being very +fine." + +In front of them they heard the policeman's measured step. From the +rear came the sounds of a man racing towards them. His hurried tread +sounded in the quiet night like the rattle of steam feet rushing +along. As they turned, the man passed them. He was panting for breath, +and his clothes seemed to have been hurriedly thrown on. His braces +were hanging loose, and he was struggling with his coat as he ran, +suggesting the idea that he was racing and dressing himself for a +wager. He did not notice the faces of the men as he passed them, but +Alfred recognised him, and cried, "Why, that's Mr. Gribble!" The next +moment Gribble junior was round the corner and out of sight, and the +calm footstep of the watchman of the night heralded Mr. Sheldrake's +friendly policeman. He touched his hat to Mr. Sheldrake, and while +that gentleman held brief conference with him, his slinking hand +asserted itself up his coat-sleeve, where it may be said to have +lurked, thirsting for Tip. The comedy, which had been so successfully +performed once before during the night, having been repeated +successfully, the policeman (awaking from another little sleep) +leisurely led the way, Alfred being in the rear. As they walked thus +in single file, Mr. Sheldrake's thoughts, put into intelligible +language, would have read thus: "That was a shrewd conclusion you came +to, David, when you heard this young cub's voice, and guessed that it +belonged to Lily's brother! A nice young fool he is! But he'll serve +your turn, David, with that little nugget--he'll serve your turn. Make +the pretty Lily grateful for having befriended her brother, and get +the young fool himself quietly in your hands, and the rosy-cheeked +apple falls plump into your open mouth, David--plump into your open +mouth!" The contemplation of the rosy-cheeked apple falling plump into +his mouth was so agreeable, that David Sheldrake smiled frequently, +and in a gay and airy manner blew a kiss in the direction of Lily's +house. + +They paused at the side door of a house of entertainment, closed +according to the law, and the mystic summons of the policeman gained +them admittance. + +"Let us have a quiet room, and some brandy-and-water," said Mr. +Sheldrake to the waiter who had opened the door, and who, with his +shirt-sleeves tucked up and his thick bull-neck, looked like a +prize-fighter. "Policeman, you'll come in and have a drink?" + +"No objections, sir." + +The liquor having been brought, the policeman treated his conscience +to "something hot," and departed to pursue his duties, ready at any +moment with his slinking hand to prove himself a worthy watchman of +the night and a proper guardian of the public peace. + + + + + CHAPTER V. + + MR. DAVID SHELDRAKE DOES A GOOD NIGHT'S WORK. + + +Mr. Sheldrake helped himself to brandy-and-water, lit a fresh cigar, +threw his cigar-case to Alfred with the air of an old acquaintance, +and seemed as if he would have been perfectly satisfied to smoke and +drink without conversation. But Alfred was not so disposed. + +"So you did a good thing on the Derby," he commenced familiarly; +"backed the Zephyr Colt, eh? I wish I had!" + +"Backed it at the right time, my boy; backed it in April, and got +thirties to one three times in hundreds." + +"Nine thousand to three hundred," Alfred put in rapidly and enviously. + +"That's a good calculation of yours, and quickly done," observed Mr. +Sheldrake, with a nod of approval. + +"O yes, I'm good at mental arithmetic," was the conceited answer. + +"That's what's wanted in racing matters. You go to a race, and you +hear the odds bawled out, and you want to hedge, perhaps; the odds are +constantly changing, and you've got to seize them at the proper +moment. To do that properly, you must be smart at figures, and then +you're all right. I know many a man who can't write anything but his +own name, and who makes pots of money because he can calculate the +odds quickly. It's a gift, and you've got it, my boy. Fill up your +glass." + +Alfred filled his glass, his face beaming with conceit. + +"Go on with the Zephyr colt," he said. "You stuck to the bet, didn't +you?" + +"No, I didn't; I hedged, like a fool." + +"Ah, _I_ shouldn't have done that!" + +"No more ought I, and no more should I, if I had had some one to +advise me. You know it was at the commencement of April that the colt +was at thirty to one, and a fortnight afterwards it was at twelve. I +hedged at those odds to win my three hundred pounds, and make myself +safe." + +"So you stood to win five thousand four hundred and to lose nothing," +said Alfred rapidly, having been looking out for another opportunity +to exhibit his prowess in mental arithmetic. + +"What wonderful calculation!" exclaimed Mr. Sheldrake in admiration, +to Alfred's intense delight. "You could make a fortune in the ring." + +"Do you think so? _I_ think I could." + +"I'd give a thousand pounds this minute to be able to reckon up +figures as you can." + +"You make plenty, though, without that." + +"I only do what any man can do, if he keeps his head cool. Did you +back anything for the Derby?" + +"Yes, worse luck," replied Alfred, with a groan, emptying his glass to +wash down a rising remorse. "I wish I had known you then. You might +have told me to back the Zephyr colt. You would, wouldn't you?" + +"That I would, for your pretty sister's sake. I wish we _had_ known +each other then! What did you back?" + +"Three horses--Bothwell, King of the Forest, and Digby Grand. +Everybody said Bothwell was sure to win, and that's why I backed it, +although I didn't fancy it." + +"It's a bad thing to back three horses; never back more than one, and +stand to it to win a good stake." + +"That's what I'm going to do on the Northumberland Plate. I ought to +have backed the Baron's horse, for he always runs straight, doesn't +he?" There was something painful in the speaker's eagerness as he +looked for consolation in the face of his companion. "And you won over +five thousand on it, and I might have done the same if I had known. If +only one of my three had come in first, I should have been right. As +it is----" + +Alfred paused, and beat his foot fretfully on the floor. + +"As it is," prompted Mr. Sheldrake, with a keen watchfulness of +Alfred's manner. + +Alfred stirred his empty glass with the spoon. He had drunk more than +was good for him, and this may have been the cause of the sudden +paleness that came over his face. He laughed nervously, and said, + +"Well, it's only the same predicament that hundreds of other young +fellows are in--I owe a little money, that's all. When I saw the +horses coming round Tattenham-corner, and saw King of the Forest +running so strong, I made sure that it was right. All the people round +me cried out, 'King of the Forest wins! King of the Forest wins!' It +was all over in a moment, and the Zephyr colt shot by the winning-post +like a flash of lightning. I should have won a couple of hundred if +it hadn't been for that. But I shall make up for it all right on the +Northumberland Plate. Christopher Sly's sure to win; don't you think +so? All the prophets say he can't lose. Look here;" and he pulled out +a handful of letters and papers, and, trembling with eagerness and +excitement, made selections, and read from them. "Hear what Pegasus +says: 'Never in the Annals of racing has there been such a certainty +as Christopher Sly for the Northumberland Plate. The race is as good +as over, and those who were fortunate enough to back the horse when it +was at twenty to one will have a rare haul. Indeed, the money is as +safe as if it were in their pockets.' Here's Delphos: 'Christopher Sly +has been especially reserved for this event; he is meant to win, and +nothing can stop him. The race is a dead certainty for him.' Delphos +ought to know, oughtn't he? They all say the same; all the prophets in +the daily papers go in for him. What do you think? Don't you think +he's sure to win?" + +"It looks very like a certainty. If the odds were a little longer on +him, I'd back him for fifty myself." + +"You'd do right! I've got all sorts of odds about him--fifteen to one +in one place. You can only get six to four about him now," said Alfred +exultantly. "But what does it matter about the odds if you're sure to +win?" + +"What do you stand to lose?" + +"O, I don't know. I know what I stand to win--over three hundred. I +shall pay off what I owe then, and go in for something big." + +"That's the sort!" cried Mr. Sheldrake gaily, clapping the young +fellow on the shoulder. "Nothing venture, nothing have. You're just +the stamp of man to break the ring. When it's known that you can +afford to lose a few hundreds, you must join the Clubs. I'll introduce +you. I'd keep quiet till then, if I were you." + +Alfred nodded and laughed; all traces of anxiety had vanished from his +countenance. He became pressing in his advice to Mr. Sheldrake to back +Christopher Sly, admired that gentleman's cigar case and his diamond +ring, and boasted of the gimcracks he intended to buy for Lily and +himself when he received his winnings. By the time they had finished +their brandy-and-water it was half-past two o'clock in the morning; +and when they reached the streets, Mr. Sheldrake gave Alfred his card, +and said he would be glad to see him at his office. + +"All right, old fellow," said Alfred; "I'll come." + +"And look here," said Mr. Sheldrake, hooking Alfred by the +button-hole, "I wouldn't say much at home of what we've been +speaking about. Wait till you make a haul. It's best always to keep +these things to oneself." + +Alfred nodded acquiescence. + +"If you want a friend at any time," added Mr. Sheldrake, "you know +where to come to; and you'll find that what David Sheldrake says, +David Sheldrake means." + +They shook hands and parted, Alfred going his way impressed with the +conviction that Mr. Sheldrake was one of the best fellows in the +world, and that gentleman going _his_ impressed with the conviction +that he had found a fine tool to assist him in working into pretty +Lily's favour. + +"You've done a good night's work, David," said the modern man of +fashion, communing with himself, according to his favourite habit; "a +very good night's work. You can win that nugget through her fool of a +brother. Lily! What a pretty name! Lily! Charming Lily! Why, David, +the girl's bewitched you!" + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + + GRAVE NEWS. + + +It was with a feeling of shame that Alfred put his boasted latch-key +into the street-door. He knew that Lily was waiting up for him, and +that it was inconsiderate in him to keep the young girl from her bed +until so late an hour; and although his brain was disturbed by drink, +he strove to administer a salve to his conscience by thinking that +Lily would do anything for him; but the effort was not quite +successful. Something whispered to him that it was unfair to take +advantage of the girl's love and devotion for him, and to cause her +anxiety. This was not the only unwelcome thought suggested by the +silent monitor that keeps watch in the mind of a man whose sense of +right is not entirely blinded; and Alfred received the points of these +nettles discontentedly, as others are in the habit of receiving them, +making excuses in response which he vainly strove to believe were not +shallow. He fell back at last upon the most ordinary of all +subterfuges. "What's the use of bothering?" he thought. "I'm not the +only young fellow who keeps out late once now and again." It is the +commonest thing in the world for us thus to throw the responsibility +of our own inexcusable actions upon other people's shoulders. "O, +well, I am not worse than my neighbours!" is the ointment we apply +when our conscience mildly pricks us but we cannot deprive the nettles +of their sting by suchlike sophistry. + +As Alfred closed the street door behind him, a stream of light fell +upon the stairs from the room on the first-floor. Lily had heard him +come in, and now glided down to meet him. + +"I am so glad you have come home," she said, with her arm round his +neck. "How late you are!" + +Something in the hushed tones of her voice, some new tenderness in her +manner, expressive of pity for herself and for him, struck strangely +upon his senses. At the same time, he was ashamed of himself for the +condition he was in. His gait was unsteady, and his voice was thick. +His senses were not so clouded, however, as not to be able to perceive +that something of a grave nature had occurred in the house. Lily +seemed to cling to him for comfort, and, hiding her face in his neck, +strove to shut out creeping fears by which she was oppressed. + +"How's mother, Lily?" he asked. + +The sound of his voice came upon her like a shock. She was +inexpressibly grieved to learn from it that he was drunk. Her first +impulse led her to shrink from him, but only for a moment. The next +she linked her hand in his arm, and besought him to come up-stairs +quietly. He stumbled up by her side, and every slip he made caused her +to quiver with keenest pain. That he should come home at such a time +and in such a condition was one of the greatest sorrows the young girl +had known. He was about to enter the room where his mother was lying, +but Lily laid her hand upon his arm with nervous force. + +"No, no!" she whispered, but so clearly and with such intensity that +her whisper was almost a cry; "no, no! Not there, Alfred; not there!" + +"Why not?" he questioned wonderingly, and inclined to force his way. + +But she stood before him, and said, + +"Not as you are, Alfred; not as you are! You will be sorry! Come into +my room." + +He obeyed her sullenly, and she, keeping tight hold of his arm, drew +him into her little room, where he sank unsteadily upon her bed. There +was no light in the room, and she made no attempt to light a candle +for she felt that it would be greater shame to see him drunk than to +know he was drunk and not look upon his face. But her suffering showed +itself in her voice. All that she said was, "O Alfred, Alfred!" and +sank upon her knees by the bedside, and hid her face in the clothes, +sobbing quietly. In a blundering way he drew her to him; but even +while she lay with her head upon his shoulder, she seemed to shrink +from him and to be ashamed of him. + +"Are you making all this fuss because I've taken a glass too much to +drink?" he asked. "There! be quiet, and I'll promise not to do so +again." + +Promises were the easiest things in the world for him to make. Weak +pliable natures such as his are continually building airy havens, in +which they do painless penance for their faults. + +Before Lily could answer, the door was opened, and old Wheels entered +with a light. He looked at the young man half sternly and half sadly. +So significant in its rebuke was his look, that Alfred, glad of an +opportunity of attacking somebody in his own defence, started to his +feet in unreasoning anger. But, what with his passion and his +condition, the words that came from his lips were not distinct; and +old Wheels raised his hand with an action almost of horror, and +exclaimed, + +"At such a time, at such a time! Are the sins of the father really +visited upon the children?" Then, with a compassionate glance at Lily, +he muttered, "I pray not, I pray not--for _her_ sake!" + +"What do you mean, grandfather?" cried Alfred. "Is it such an +unheard-of thing for a man to come home an hour later than usual, that +you should treat me as if I have committed a crime?" + +"Crime!" echoed the old man, looking steadily into Alfred's eyes. "God +keep you free from it!" + +Whatever answer Alfred was prompted to give, it did not pass his white +and trembling lips. But presently he mustered up a blustering courage, +and cried in an injured tone, + +"I won't stand it; I'll go away this minute! Let me go, Lily! I'll get +a bed somewhere else." + +He knew his power over her; and even in this moment of weakness, when +he felt himself at such disadvantage, and so clearly in the wrong, he +had the cunning of a weak mind, and used it. He smiled in selfish +triumph as Lily's arms tightened round him. + +"He does not know, grandfather!" she said, in an imploring tone. +"Don't speak harshly to him; he does not know." + +"O, I know very well, Lily," he said, thinking she referred to his +condition; "I've taken a glass too much. I'm not ignorant of that; and +if grandfather thinks he can bully me without my answering him, he is +mistaken. He takes advantage of your being here, and of my being fond +of you, to cast out all sorts of insinuations against me." + +"I have not accused you of anything, Alfred;" said old Wheels sadly. + +"You hoped I should be kept free from crime," exclaimed Alfred +violently. + +"Hush, Alfred," implored Lily, in awe-struck tones; "you don't know +what has occurred. Don't speak so loud! Your voice sounds sinful used +in such a way, and at such a time." + +"I don't understand you, Lily. What's the matter with the time? It's a +little late, that's all." + +"Lost to all sense of shame!" muttered old Wheels. "It is like fate. +So I parted from the father, and the son is before me, with the same +curse upon him." + +"O, I can't stand this, and won't!" exclaimed Alfred roughly. "I'll +see if mother is awake, and then I'll go to bed." + +He was moving towards the door, when Lily's terrified look, and the +old man's solemn gesture, made him pause. For the first time a fear +fell upon him. + +"Why do you look so?" he asked of her; and then of his grandfather, +"and why do _you_ seek to prevent me going in to see mother?" + +"Because you are drunk, and in your present state would not desire to +appear before her, if you knew----" + +"If I knew what? Is mother worse? Why don't you answer? I _will_ go in +and see her!" + +"Stop, Alfred," said the old man, quietly and solemnly; "Your mother +is dead!" + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + + THE IRON BOX. + + +The shock of the news sobered Alfred instantly; the full disgrace of +his condition came upon him, and made him ashamed to look his sister +in the face. + +"You--you have been very hard to me, grandfather," he said +hesitatingly. + +"I have been to you as you deserved, Alfred. Has your conduct to-night +been such as should make me affectionate to you?" + +"I have no excuse to make," replied Alfred, thoroughly humbled; "but +you will do me the justice to believe that it would not have been so +with me had I known." + +"The remorse of a too-late repentance, Alfred, is a bitter +experience." + +A resentful answer rose to Alfred's lips, but he checked it. + +"When--when did mother die, sir?" he asked. + +The words were long in coming. It seemed to him a hard question to +ask. + +"An hour ago. I saw a change come over her, and Mr. Gribble ran for +the doctor." Alfred remembered seeing Gribble junior tear along, +struggling with his coat, and it was another sting to him that a +stranger should have performed his duty. "When the doctor came she had +passed away." + +"What did she say? Did she ask for me?" + +"She did not speak; she was unconscious." + +"And she died without a word to you or Lily, grandfather? without a +thought of me?" + +"Who can tell her thoughts? Her mind may have been awake. She passed +away in her sleep--peacefully, thank God! Her life has not been a +happy one; and it is God's mercy that she was spared in her last +moments the pain of seeing you as you are. It would have recalled her +bitterest memories." + +"I am better now, grandfather. May I see her?" + +"Yes. Lily, my darling!" and the old man took her in his arms and +kissed her; "you must go to bed--you are tired." + +But she clung to him, and entreated to be allowed to sit up with them. + +"No, dear child," he said; "we shall want you to be strong to-morrow. +What is that you say? You are frightened! Nay, nay, dear child! Sleep +will compose you. Alfred and I have much to talk of, and we must be +alone. Good night, dear child!" + +When they left the room, Lily looked round and shuddered. The silence +was full of terrors for her, and it was with difficulty she restrained +herself from calling out. The events of the night had unnerved her. +She went into the passage, and, listening, heard the buzz of voices in +her grandfather's room. She could not catch the words, but it was a +comfort to her to hear the sound; it was companionship. She crouched +upon the ground, and lay there, with her head against the wall. A +thousand fancies crowded her brain: the music-hall, with its glare of +lights, and its great concourse of people, laughing, and drinking and +applauding, presented itself to her in a variety of fantastic shapes, +each image being perfect in itself and utterly engrossing, and yet +fading entirely away in a moment, and giving place to a successor as +vivid and as engrossing as any that had gone before. Other images +presented themselves. Mr. Sheldrake, with his studied polished manner, +and his smooth voice; Alfred and she in the dark passage; her +grandfather, with a stern bearing quite unusual to him: the doctor, +with his grave face and measured tones; and her mother lying dead, +with grey stony face. Everything but the image of her mother was quick +with life; through all the bustle and vivid movements of the other +figures in her fevered fancies, that one figure presented and intruded +itself in many strange ways, but always cold, and grey, and still. +Presently the entire interest of her dreams centred itself in this +image. Between her and her mother no great love had ever existed; the +dead woman's nature had been repressive; an overwhelming grief had +clouded her life, and she had yielded to it and sunk under it. She had +hugged this grief close, as it were, and so wrapped herself in it, +that her natural love had become frozen. So that the feeling which +Lily experienced now in her dreams, for her dead mother, had nothing +in it of that agonising grief which springs from intense love. And yet +she shuddered at the part she was playing towards that grey cold form. +It was lying before her, and she, dressed in bright colours, was +dancing and singing round it. The contrast between her own gaiety and +the dreadful stillness of the form she was dancing and singing to, +impressed her with horror, and she strove to be still, but could not. +Her struggles made her hysterical in her sleep--for Lily was sleeping +now--when suddenly peace stole upon her, and she was calm. But it was +not a comforting, refreshing peace; it was oppressive and painfully +intense. A man stood before her, with his eyes fixed steadily upon +hers. This man was one who, a few weeks before, had performed for a +benefit at the music-hall. He was an electro-biologist, and Lily had +been terrified by his performances. He had stolen away the wills of +some of the persons upon whom he had operated, and made them do this +and that at his pleasure; to pull down the moon; to drink water and +believe it wine, then soapsuds; to shiver with cold; to be oppressed +with heat; to dance; to stand still; to be transfixed like stone; to +form friendships, hatreds, and a hundred other things as strange and +inexplicable. She watched him do all these things. When the +performance was over, the man, coming off the stage, had noticed the +interest with which she had followed his experiments, and had said to +her, "You are a good subject; I could do with you as I please." She +was terrified at his words, and tried to move away from him, but could +not, and could not take her eyes from his face. Perceiving this, he +said to her, "Stretch out your arm," and she obeyed him; "Take my +hand," and she took it, surrendering her will entirely to him. At this +point they were interrupted, and she escaped him, thankfully; but for +hours afterwards she was dazed, and thought much of the incident, +dreading to meet the man again. Now he stood before her in her dreams, +and commanded her to rise; she had no power to resist him, and she +rose at his bidding. Here a diversion occurred by the word "Father!" +falling upon her ears. It was not fancy, being uttered rather loudly +by one of the speakers in the room, and it raised the image of her +father. The last time she saw him, she was quite a little child, and +then he was drunk, and was leaving her mother with words of anger on +his lips. As he turned his face, in her sleeping fancies, towards the +form of her mother lying dead before her, it suddenly changed to the +face of Alfred, and she was pained and grieved at the likeness between +father and son. Thus far the running commentary of her dreams. + +Meantime an impressive scene was being enacted between her brother and +her grandfather. Alfred went behind the screen, and uncovered the face +of his mother. It was hard and cold in death, as it had been hard and +cold in life. The light of love had not illumined her latter days, and +strength had not been given her to fight with grief. Alfred was awed +into good resolution as he looked at the dumb inanimate clay. "I won't +drink so much," he thought, "I'll try and be better. If Christopher +Sly wins the Northumberland Plate, I shall be able to be better." And +then a strange half-prayer dwelt in his mind, that Christopher Sly +might win the race. + +To his side came old Wheels. + +"She looks like an old woman," he said; "almost too old to be my +daughter." + +Alfred turned his eyes to the old man's face. Youth had not departed +from it; it seemed indeed younger than the face of his dead daughter. + +"You were her first-born, Alfred. Think of the joy that filled her +when she first pressed you in her arms, and look at her now. Time is +but a breath--but a breath--but a breath!" + +Old Wheels mused of the time gone by, and wondered, as we all must +wonder when we think of them and now, and of the changes that have +occurred in our lives. The gay spirit chilled; the cheerful heart +dulled by long suffering; the hope that made life bright dead and cold +long, long ago--killed in the battle we have fought! But if love be +left!---- + +Ay, if love be left, all the bruises we have received in the fight, +all the hurts and wounds, shall not make life despairing. The flowers +we have gathered and held to our hearts shall never wither if love be +left! + +"She looks very peaceful, grandfather," said Alfred almost in a +whisper. + +"She _is_ at peace; she is with God and nature." + +Better influences were stirred into action by the old man's words, and +Alfred sank upon his knees by the bedside, and perhaps loved her +better at that moment than ever he had done before. + +"I have heard," continued the old man, "that many faces in death +assume the beauty they possessed in youth. I would give much that it +had been so with your mother, and that you might have seen her face as +it was when she was young." + +The old man's thoughts travelled back to the time when he first looked +upon the baby-face of the cold hard grey form before him. He recalled +the thrills of pleasure that hurried through him as he held the pretty +child in his arms, and looked at his wife smiling happily in bed. His +wife had died soon after the birth of this their only child, who had +been a comfort to him until trouble came. It was all over now, and a +new life had commenced for her. + +"I have thought sometimes," he said aloud, pursuing the commentary of +his thoughts, "of the strangeness of spirits meeting under certain +conditions of things." + +Alfred looked up in wonder, and the old man answered the look. + +"Ay, of spirits meeting. If you believe in immortality, you must +believe in the meeting of spirits. What shape or form do they bear? +Here, before us, is my daughter and your mother, an old woman in +looks, aged by a grief that was hard enough to bear without being made +harder by constant brooding. When my wife died, your mother was a +babe, and my wife was almost a girl. So they parted. How do they meet +now? This child of mine looks old enough to be the mother of my wife. +How do they meet?--as mother and babe again? It is a strange thought, +not to be answered. Yet by and by it shall be made plain to us." + +Alfred listened and wondered. Although he had not been unaccustomed to +hear his grandfather speak of such matters, he had never before been +impressed by them. As he bowed his head to the bed, other thoughts +than selfish ones came to him,--thoughts which brought with them a +consciousness of something higher than the aspirations by which he had +hitherto been guided. If such influences as those which softened him +and made him better for the time were less fleeting and more +endurable, we should be the gainers. But in most cases they are as +intangible in their effect as a breeze that touches us lightly. Winds +come, and rain, and heavy clouds; and the unhealthful passion and +desire that are stirred by the storm sweep the chastening thought into +a lost oblivion. + +The old man looked hopefully upon the form of his grandson in its +attitude of contrition and softened feeling, and he waited long before +he desired Alfred to rise. With a distinct purpose, which he was +anxious not to disguise, he at the same time moved the screen, so +that, as he and Alfred sat at the table, the bed upon which the dead +daughter and mother lay was not hidden from sight. + +"Alfred," the old man said, after a slight pause, "have you anything +to tell me?" + +"What should I have to tell you, grandfather, except--except to repeat +that I am ashamed of myself for coming home dr---- not quite sober, +and that I beg your pardon?" + +The old man did not look up; he toyed with Lily's workbox, which was +on the table, and said gently, pointing to the bed, + +"Ask pardon there. But you have done that, I think." + +"Yes, grandfather, indeed." + +"That is something. At such a time as this we should be considerate of +one another. These occasions happily come but seldom in life, and +sometimes they open the road to amendment. Tell me, Alfred, have I +been kind to you?" + +"Yes, grandfather." + +"And you look upon me as a friend?" + +"Yes." + +"Yet you have nothing to say to me--no confidence to repose in me?" + +"Nothing particular that I can think of." + +A shade of disappointment passed across the old man's face like a +cloud. But a rift of light chased it away as he said, + +"You love Lily?" + +"Indeed I do that, grandfather." + +"She has but you and me, Alfred, as protectors; and she needs +protection. She is surrounded by temptation. I am growing very old; my +strength may fail me any day, and you may be called upon suddenly to +play the part of guardian to her. You are young for it." + +"But I'm strong enough, don't fear, grandfather. Lily will be all +right; I'll see to that! I'll take her away from the music-hall soon. +I don't like her being there----" + +"You forget, Alfred, she earns our living." + +"Yes, I know; but it isn't to be expected that she should always do +that." + +"I am glad to hear you say so. Yet you yourself are doing but little +at present; you only earn----" + +"Fifteen shillings a week. I know! Tickle and Flint are the stingiest +old brutes in London. Of course I can't do much out of fifteen +shillings a week. I must have clothes, and other things; and I can't +help spending a shilling or two, and somehow or other it all goes. I +must do as other young men do. I asked Tickle and Flint for a rise +once; but the old screws shook their heads, referred to the agreement, +and told me not to ask again." + +"They were right. If you are industrious and painstaking, a prosperous +future is before you." + +"O, but it's too slow!" exclaimed Alfred, with an impatient shake of +the head. "I am bound to them for three years more before I can make a +start. It's preposterous! Never mind, I'll show them! I know a way." + +"What way?" asked the old man suddenly, looking at his grandson. + +"Never mind now," replied Alfred evasively. "You'll see by-and-by." + +"There is but one way," observed the old man quietly--"the straight +way. Alfred, go to the cupboard, and bring me a small iron box you +will see there." + +A sudden paleness came over Alfred's face. + +"A small iron box, grandfather?" he echoed, with a curious indecision, +and with a nervous trembling of the lips. + +"Yes," said the old man sadly; "you know the box. You have seen it +many times." + +Alfred hesitated for one moment only, and then, as if much depended +upon prompt action, walked swiftly to the cupboard, and taking out a +small iron box, laid it before his grandfather. The old man took a key +from his pocket, and put it into the lid, but did not turn the lock. + +"I daresay," he said, slowly and distinctly, "you have often wondered +what was in this little box. Every house, every family, has its +skeleton. This box has contained ours." + +"Why speak of it to-night, grandfather?" asked Alfred, nervously. +"Surely it is time to go to bed. Leave this matter till to-morrow." + +"Nay, it must be spoken of now, in the presence of your dead mother +and my daughter. I asked you a few minutes since if you had anything +to tell me. You answered not in the manner I hoped and expected. I ask +you again now. Have you anything to say to me? Is there anything on +your mind that it would relieve you to speak of? Think a little. +Errors may be repaired; but a time comes when it is too late for +reparation. Look at your mother, and say if it is not too late to +make reparation for unatoned suffering. If I wrong you in speaking +thus to you, I ask your pardon, my boy; but I am speaking with a +strong fear upon me--a fear that a life may be wrecked by wrong-doing, +as was one very near to you." + +Alfred, who had listened with eyes averted from the table, caught +eagerly at the last sentence. + +"You _do_ me wrong, grandfather," he said, in tones which he vainly +strove to make firm--"a cruel wrong--in speaking in this way to me! I +don't understand you. It is not the first time to-night that you have +thrown out these insinuations. What did you mean by saying to me that +the remorse of a too-late repentance is a bitter experience? And then, +saying, God keep me free from crime?" + +"I repeat it, Alfred. Once more I pray to God to keep you from crime! +Once more I say that the remorse of a too-late repentance is the +bitterest of experiences!" + +"I deny your right to say these things to me!" cried Alfred violently. +"I deny it entirely. I'll not stand it, grandfather! I shall go!" + +"Stay!" exclaimed the old man in a tone of command. "I made a promise +to your mother to speak to you this night of your father." + +"My father!" Alfred caught at the table, and his heart beat wildly at +the thought of what was to come. + +"I have never spoken of him to you before, but the wishes of the dead +must be respected. Sit down and listen. In this box I have been +accustomed for years to put by small savings for a special purpose, of +which you shall presently hear. Lily's earnings lately and my own +trifling pittance were more than sufficient for our wants, and money +was saved, little by little, until a fortnight ago I had very nearly +one hundred pounds in this box. When you learn to what purpose this +money was to be applied, you will better understand my motives for +speaking of it in this manner. One hundred pounds was the exact sum +required, and I hoped in a month to have counted it out, and to have +completed a tardy atonement for a life's disgrace." Alfred turned to +his grandfather in amazement, but did not speak. "Shilling by +shilling," continued the old man steadily, "the little heap grew and +grew. No miser ever valued gold and silver more than I did the money +this box contained. I hoarded it, counted it, reckoned upon my fingers +how many days would elapse before the sum was reached. No one knew of +it, as I thought, but your mother and I. Certainly no one but we two +knew the purpose to which it was to be applied. Three weeks this +night, leaving the box in the cupboard, I went to bring Lily home from +the hall. I was away for more than an hour. When I returned, I found +your mother strangely agitated, but could not ascertain the cause. I +questioned her, but learned nothing. The following day I opened this +box. It was empty. The money was gone!" + +He turned the key and opened the box. It contained nothing but two +pieces of faded yellow paper. + +"See," said the old man, directing Alfred's attention to the box; +"there is nothing in it but these sheets of paper. Every shilling was +stolen." + +"I see, grandfather," said Alfred, with a furtive look into the box. +"Do you know who took the money?" + +"No, I do not know." + +"Did mother know?" + +"I am not sure." + +"How not sure, grandfather?" asked Alfred, with an effort to appear at +his ease. "Did mother speak of it?" + +"No; and I spared her the grief that telling her of the loss would +have caused her." + +"Then how can you say you are not sure whether mother knew? If she had +known, she would have spoken. You know," added Alfred, his manner, +which had hitherto been moody and embarrassed, brightening a little, +"that I am going to be a lawyer, and lawyers are fond of asking +questions." + +The change in Alfred's manner produced a singular effect upon the old +man; it rendered him more sad and troubled. Hitherto he had exhibited +a strange eagerness when Alfred showed most embarrassment; and as this +disappeared, and Alfred became more at his ease, an expression of +absolute grief stole into the old man's face. + +"The lock has not been tampered with," observed Alfred, examining the +box carefully; "how could it have been opened? You kept the key in +your pocket always, of course?" + +"I have been foolish enough on occasions to leave it on the +mantelshelf, but on those occasions I think I may say with certainty +that the cupboard in which the box was placed was always locked. I was +never without one key or the other. Say that once when this occurred, +the thief, knowing that the box contained money, watched me out of the +house. That then he entered the room, and, going to the cupboard, +found it locked. That, being baffled by this circumstance, he saw upon +the mantelshelf a key, which he guessed was the key of the iron box; +that he took an impression of this key----" + +"In what?" interrupted Alfred, almost gaily. "In wax or putty? If he +had either by him he must be a professional burglar. There are plenty +of lodgers in the house, but I hardly suspected there was a person of +that description here." + +"I don't think there is a person of that description in the house. +Remember, Alfred, that what I am narrating is merely guess-work." + +"Capital guess-work, I should say, grandfather; you ought to have been +a lawyer. But go on." + +"That he took an impression of this key," continued the old man, "in +wax or putty, as you suggest. He may have come in prepared, or taking +an impression in either may have been an afterthought. That from this +impression he had a false key made. That on this night three weeks, +when I had gone to the music-hall for Lily, the thief entered the +room, found the cupboard open--it _was_ open, I remember--and +completed the robbery." + +"A good case, grandfather, but quite circumstantial, you know." + +"Yes, I know, Alfred; quite circumstantial. In my thoughts I go +farther even than this. I think that when the thief was opening the +box, your mother may have been awake, or perhaps in that half-wakeful +condition during which fancy and reality are so strangely commingled +as not to be distinguishable one from the other. I think that, being +in this condition, she saw the robbery committed, and that perhaps she +knew the thief----" + +"Grandfather!" The exclamation was forced from Alfred's trembling +lips; he could not have repressed it for his life. + +"What is the matter, Alfred?" + +"Nothing," stammered the young man; "it is late, and I was not well +when I came home. Go on." + +"That knowing the thief, and not knowing whether what she saw was +reality or a trick of the imagination, she dreaded, for a reason you +shall presently be made acquainted with, to assure herself of the +truth. I saw the dread in her watchful face and manner whenever I went +to the cupboard; I saw the subject upon her lips and the fear to +speak. I saw gratefulness struggling with doubt, as day after day went +by and I did not refer to the loss. She yearned to know, and dreaded +to ask. For had she asked and learned the truth, the bitterness of the +past would have been sweet compared to the bitterness of the present! +And so she passed away and was not sure." + +"I don't understand all this," said Alfred sullenly; "you are speaking +in enigmas, and I'm not good at solving them. I have no doubt that one +of the lodgers took the money." + +"It would not be very difficult to ascertain, Alfred. There were notes +in the box of which I have the numbers, and a shrewd detective would +most likely soon discover where the false key was made. But I have +resolved to let the matter rest; perhaps I, like your mother, dread to +know the truth." + +"Suppose you leave it to me, grandfather?" suggested Alfred with +nervous eagerness: "it will be practice for me you know." + +"Yes, Alfred, I will leave it to you; I promise not to stir in the +matter myself. You may be able to recover the money, or part of it, +and it may be applied to its original purpose." + +Alfred gave a sigh of relief, and his manner brightened again, as he +inquired what was the purpose to which his grandfather referred. + +"Do you remember your father?" was the question asked in return by the +old man after a pause. + +"But slightly grandfather. I was very young when we lost him." + +"When we lost him!" mused the old man. "What memories come to light at +the thought of that time! To what end your mother made me promise to +tell you the story of her life and to speak plainly of your father, it +is not for me to say, but I believe she intended it to act as a +warning to you." + +"There again!" exclaimed Alfred fretfully. "Why as a warning?" + +"That is for you to answer. Perhaps she saw in you the faults that +brought shame to your father, misery to her. As you sit before me now, +so sat your father when he asked me for my daughter's hand. I did not +know the vices that were in him, or I would have seen her dead at my +feet rather than have given her to him. She loved him and had already +pleaded with me for him. We were living then near Gravesend. I had +money and a house of my own. Remembrance of the happy life she lived +there before she was married caused her last week to express a wish to +be buried there, and I shall respect her wish. Your father, I thought, +had a fair future before him. I gave him my daughter's hand, and they +came to London to live--not in such poor lodgings as these, but after +a better fashion. I gave my daughter such a dower as I could afford, +and they started in life with the fairest of prospects. It was not +long before troubles came; it was not long before your mother learned +that she had married a drunkard--worse, that she had married a +gambler. These things are hard for me, your mother's father, to tell, +and hard for you, your father's son to hear. But they are true, and if +they serve to point a warning finger to the quicksands of life where, +if you do not avoid them, all that is honourable and good for you may +be engulfed, they will not be told in vain! I spare you the pain of a +long recital; I simply tell you that step by step your father sank, +and dragged your mother with him. He would not work, and constant +appeals were made to my purse to supply the means of living. I gave +and gave; spoke to your father again and again; appealed to his self +respect, to his feelings of honour; and received in return--_promises_ +of amendment, promises of amendment, promises forgotten as soon as +each temporary want was provided for. Shall I tell you more? Shall I +tell you that, so low did drink and gambling bring him, he raised his +hand against his wife----" + +"No, no, sir!" cried Alfred, with a beating heart. + +"It is true," said the old man sternly; "it is true, and it must be +told. He raised his hand against the wife who had loved him and been +faithful to him. And yet there was a time when he would have been as +shocked as you are now, had such an accusation been made against him; +but he was weak and easily misled; unstable as water, as Reuben was; +selfish in his desires and pleasures; with no gratitude for love; with +no thought that life has solemn duties, and that there is in it +something purer, brighter, sweeter, than the false glitter that +attracts weak minds; therefore he wrecked his life and broke your +mother's heart--your mother, whose sufferings you can imagine when I +tell you that she was once as trustful as Lily, as tender as Lily! You +were born; Lily was born. The downward course went on, and he and all +of you sank into deeper misery, deeper shame, until I thought the +worst had been reached. But I was mistaken." + +The old man paused, reluctant to proceed; but Alfred said, + +"Go on, sir; I must hear all now." + +"It is right that you should. You will understand how, under these +miserable influences, your mother's nature changed; how gradually, +from a light-hearted trustful girl, she became a hopeless despairing +woman. I gave up my house, and came to live with her. Your father was +away sometimes for days together, and your mother had no dependence +but me. One night late, long after we had retired, your father came +home without warning. He stole into my room stealthily, and roused me. +He had been in hiding for weeks; the police were after him, and were +hunting him down; a warrant was out for him. He told me the shameful +tale. I knew that he was a drunkard and a gambler, but I did not know +before that night that he was a thief!" + +Alfred sank on his knees in uncontrollable agitation, and hid his face +in his hands. + +"Circumstances had unfortunately placed it in his power to embezzle a +large sum of money; he obtained possession of it, and drank and +gambled it away. What was to be done? The name that I bore had never +had a stain upon it. I and mine had lived honourable lives. I loved +your mother, loved you and Lily. I had no others belonging to me--you +were my all. If I made no attempt to save him, we should in the eyes +of the world be sharers of his crime and his disgrace. His shame would +have clung to you all your lives. He gave me the name of the man whom +he had robbed. By daylight I was in the wronged man's house, by his +bedside. This man loved money better than justice. I represented to +him that he could not have both. He chose the first. I made terms with +him, and sacrificed all but a bare pittance. Between us we compounded +a felony. But I had not sufficient to pay the whole of his claim. I +promised, however, to pay the rest as I could, and he took my word. +Alfred, little by little I have been all my life since that time +wiping off the debt of disgrace. One hundred pounds only remained to +be paid, and very nearly that sum has been stolen from this iron box. +Whoever stole that money stole the honour of our family!" + +A long pause ensued. A new day was dawning, and the faint light rested +upon the solemn face of the dead woman, to whom peace had come at +last. Alfred turned his eyes towards it, and shuddered. Then he turned +to the old man, and said in a low voice, + +"And my father, sir?" + +"In this iron box are two papers," said the old man; "one from him, +promising never to trouble his wife and children more, and one from +the man he wronged, giving quittance of what is set down as a debt. +Your father kept his word. I have never seen him since that time." + +Alfred kissed his mother's face, and covered it. Then he held out his +hand to his grandfather, who took it in silence, and looked at him +wistfully. But Alfred only said, humbly, + +"I am tired, sir. You have been very good to us, and I will try to +deserve it." + +They went to the door, and the old man opened it, and saw Lily lying +on the ground. + +"Lily!" he cried, in alarm. + +The girl slowly rose and stood before him. Her eyes were closed; she +was asleep. + +"Lily, my darling!" he said, tenderly placing his arm round her, "why +have you been sleeping here?" + +The girl did not answer, but nestled in his arms as if she found +comfort there. He led her into the room, and she accompanied him +unresistingly. + +"She has been overwrought, poor child," said the old man in a troubled +voice. + +They stood in silence for a few moments, almost fearing to speak; she +still sleeping, with her sweet face turned towards the morning light, +which, gradually growing brighter, illumined the strange group. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + + THE REVEREND EMANUEL CREAMWELL STOPS THE WAY. + + +The parish of Stapleton, of which the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell was +pastor, was situated a very few miles from London, and contained, +it is to be presumed (and not to do violence to the science of +divine things), an equal number of human bodies and souls. The +number--reckoning the two as one--was not large, and the tithes were +small, a circumstance which it is waste of time to mention, for what +minister loves his emoluments better than his church? And yet in +common minds a mean suspicion is sometimes engendered as to the +comparative value of one and the other in the eyes of the clergy. +Without indorsing this suspicion--rejecting it, indeed, as the vilest +of calumnies--it is curious to observe that, when a minister has a +"call," the summons from heaven generally holds out the promise of an +increased earthly income. It is a proof of the base depths of which +the mind is capable, and the fact of the divine summons being very +generally joyfully responded to, should engender a tittle of +suspicion. But unfortunately there are in the world men to whose moral +perception purity of motive is a human impossibility; to such men the +flesh-pots of Egypt contain the most powerful argument it is possible +to conceive. + +Stapleton was a tumble-down little parish, and bore unmistakable signs +of being badly off. Everything in it and about it had been crumbling +away for many generations. Magnates there were in it of course--most +of them elderly gentlemen, with puffy faces and big stomachs, at whom +the poor children of the parish, in dirty pinafores, their large eyes +staring upwards, and their hands behind them, would gaze in worship. +The predecessors of these great men were crumbling away in the +picturesque old churchyard, making the soil rich for buttercups and +daisies, with which the dirty children played and pelted one another. +There were many picturesque bits of scenery about Stapleton; +notwithstanding its poverty, it was not an undesirable living for a +clergyman, and the patching-up and medicining of souls--which, +according to doctrinal teaching, are always lame and diseased, coming +into the world so, and so remaining--went on pretty much in the same +way and quite as unsuccessfully as in most other parishes. Doctors for +bodies and doctors for souls are so abundant, and increase and +multiply so amazingly, that the human machine on two legs which walks +the earth, and which Leigh Hunt's fish so very properly laughed at, +may be said to be in a very bad state indeed. + +Such, at all events, the preaching of the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell +went to prove. According to his pulpit-doctrine, corruption was the +normal state of man--and woman also, of course. This condition was bad +enough in all conscience, but it was a miserable thing to be compelled +to believe that it could never be bettered. The conviction was forced +upon them by their pastor; his utterings were destructive of hope. He +had preached to them a library of sermons, and middle-aged sinners of +his congregation had grown old during his term. Inevitable time was +pushing them nearer and nearer to the grave; but there was no more +hope for them now than there had been long ago, when there were many +years of life before them. Sinners then, sinners now. How was +salvation to be obtained? They went to church, and listened to their +pastor's words, but found no consolation in them. The refrain of his +sermon was the same now as it had been the first day on which he +ascended the pulpit, and preached to them not salvation but the other +thing. As he and the members of his flock grew older, he grew more +stern, and they more disconsolate. The time for them for reaching +grace was getting very short, and still corruption held them fast, +would not let them go indeed. When the Sabbath service was ended, they +wended their way home, depressed and in the saddest of moods. For +their pastor hurt and bruised the miserable sinners without mercy. He +said, "This shall ye do out of fear of the Lord;" and no suggestion of +love brought light to the benighted ones. He told them to cleanse +their souls; he had told them to do this any time for twenty years, +but he did not supply them with the divine soap and water necessary +for the operation. He spoke in parables, and left them to draw the +moral. He presented problems to them, hard nuts of divinity which they +found it impossible to crack. He used the Bible like a catapult, and +from this engine he, week after week, hurled terrible inflictions at +their hands, until some impressionable souls grew to believe that God +was a very dreadful creature, and that it would have been better for +them if they had never been introduced into this world of sorrow, +which was to be followed by another full of penalties. + +Not one of his parishioners loved him. But they thought he was a good +man, notwithstanding--so good, indeed, that goodness became +disagreeable in their eyes, and some of them deemed that it must be +exceedingly pleasant to be naughty. The fact of this man having the +charge of many precious souls (to use the stereotyped vernacular), and +preaching the highest and holiest lessons for years to persons who did +not, could not love him, was one of the strangest of anomalies. In his +exhortations he seemed to declare, "I am sent to bruise, not to heal; +here is a stone for you; here are vinegar and salt for your wounds; +here are shadows and awful images to appal you, and to make your +death-bed agonising; here are the waters of grace--taste them, and +find them bitter!" After such exhortation, how could they love +God?--how could they love His minister? Prisoners do not love their +gaolers. And this man, having the charge of souls, held them in grim +custody with the hard spirit of a gaoler. + +They writhed and suffered in his grasp, but they had no word to say +against him. He was an eminently respectable man; had never been seen +to smile; and they touched their hats to him, and paid him every +deference. But it was remarkable that no person had ever been known to +utter a word in praise of him. Women--especially women in humble +life--did not like him; and he produced a curious effect upon +children. Sometimes they cried when they saw him, and sometimes they +stood aside as he passed, with a kind of fear on them--petrified as it +were. The effect was something similar to that which Medusa's head +might have produced upon them. + +His home was like his preaching. There was no light in it. It was dark +and sombre. All the furniture was of dark wood; the paper on the walls +of every room was dark. In the whole house, from roof to basement, +there was nothing graceful in form or colour. The ornaments on the +mantelshelf were ugly figures in dark wood and stone. Flowers were +never seen in the house. The gas was never lighted until night had +completely fallen. Nothing more oppressive can be conceived than the +effect which this gloomy house and the gloomy fashion in which it was +conducted would produce after a time upon a sensitive spirit. In the +eyes of many, all this added to his respectability as a man of God. +What wanted he with pomps and vanities? It was his mission to preach +against them. Should he, then, indulge in them? + +How many are there who exhibit an outward pride in living thus--who +raise their eyes and hands against harmless enjoyments--whose words +would rob life of its sunshine and flowers and tender feeling, and who +grudge to the hungry every sweet morsel that kind impulse and kinder +nature hold out to them with pitying hand! If the inner and private +lives of these moralists were laid bare, what kind of lesson would +they teach? + +It must not be supposed that this reflection in any way touches the +Reverend Emanuel Creamwell. There was not a visible stain upon him; +the breath of slander had never been raised against him; he was above +reproach. He may have been a little stiff and uncompromising, a little +too severe in his notions of this and that, but his morality and +goodness were not to be questioned. As for his judgment there were at +least two persons in the parish who relied implicitly upon it. + +These two men were Justices of the Peace. Their names, unlike +themselves, are of no consequence. It would be hard to give any other +reason for their being appointed Justices of the Peace than that one +was a retired colonel and the other a retired sugar-baker; and +doubtless it would be a distinct libel to declare that they knew as +much of law as the man in the moon. Undoubtedly they must have been +worthy; undoubtedly they must have been just. What is known as +"Justices' Justice" has been a theme for satire and rebuke as long as +we can remember, and it is a blessing to live in a land where it +would not be tolerated that one in power having committed a gross +injustice--having, perhaps, helped to make infamous what might have +been made beneficial--should be permitted to retain an authority which +is only used to be abused. So perfect are our institutions, that it +would be next to impossible that one who had proved himself by his +acts to be unworthy of the distinction should be allowed to sit in +judgment on his fellows year after year, to dispense unequal and +merciless justice. It would be monstrous otherwise. + +The Reverend Emanuel Creamwell was to these two Justices as a staff to +lean upon--a staff that would not yield or bend, however great the +pressure. He frequently sat upon the Bench with one or the other, or +with both, and prompted and advised them, and indeed directed their +verdicts; so that it might almost be said that they spoke out of his +mouth. Dressed in his little brief authority, the retired colonel or +the retired sugar-baker would sit in state pompously, with his +reverend counsellor by his side, and strike terror to the heart of the +hardened criminal. As thus: + +A boy of tender years, in the employ of a baker, was charged with +stealing a pound of flour, valued at twopence, from his master. The +facts of the case were somewhat singular. The master discovered the +theft, and in hot temper sent for a policeman, who straightway locked +up the ferocious thief. Then the master repented of his hasty action, +made inquiries, and from what he learned, deemed that the boy was more +deserving of pity than of blame. When he made his appearance in court, +he stated that he was anxious not to prosecute, and he begged that the +boy might be discharged with a caution. + +"But he stole the flour?" asked the Justice, prompted by his reverend +counsellor. + +"It wasn't worth twopence," was the evasive reply; "and I have learned +since----" + +"We don't want to know what he learned since," remarked the Reverend +Mr. Creamwell to the Justice. "Did the boy steal the flour, or did he +not?" + +"Yes," echoed the parrot Justice; "we don't want to know what you have +learned since. Did the boy steal the flour, or did he not?" + +"He did," replied the tradesman; "but----" + +"What have 'buts' to do with facts?" exclaimed the wise administrator. +"The boy is a thief, and he must--eh? yes, certainly; quite proper--he +must go to prison for three months, with hard labour." + +So the criminal (whose first offence it was, and who had never been +known to steal before) was sent to prison, where, surrounded by gentle +associates and humanising influences, he learnt some salutary lessons. + +Or thus: + +One very cold winter evening, a poor woman--so poor that she could not +afford to buy two-penny-worth of coal--was walking to her cheerless +home. The sharp wind pierced to her very marrow, and the prospect +before her made the cold colder. She was a charwoman, and had been +unsuccessful in obtaining work during the day. Jane Plummer was her +name. Her toes peeped out of her boots. Hapless Jane Plummer! She had +to pass by the side of a wood which belonged to wealthy Mr. Icicle, +and she saw a few rotten branches on the ground. They had dropped in +the autumn, and had been soddened into the earth by many rains. Think +of a sick man who for weeks had been debarred the blessings of sun and +sweet air--primroses could not have gladdened his sight more than +these ugly sticks gladdened the sight of Jane Plummer; fresh violets +could not have been more welcome and refreshing to him than these +black bits of wood were to her. They held out the hope of light and +warmth. They were temptingly within reach. She stooped and picked them +up, and put them into her apron, the humble badge of the Order of the +Poor. Unfortunate Jane Plummer! Behind her was a policeman with a true +policeman's spirit. He was off duty, but the ruling passion for taking +people into custody was strong within him, and he never missed a +chance. Besides, he yearned for promotion; he looked forward to being +a sergeant. Animated by this blessed hope, he was as zealous a +subordinate as could be found in the ranks. He knew Jane Plummer; knew +that she was the poorest of the poor; knew that she had no fire, and +no money to buy fuel; knew the meaning of her hesitating gait and +wistful looks as the fatal branches came into view. What, now, if at +this point he had turned and fled? Pooh, not to be thought of. He +waited cunningly until the sticks were in her apron, and she was +shuffling along with them; then he pounced upon her, and bade her come +along with him. She trembled, and dropped the rotten sticks. He made +her pick them up again. She sobbed and implored--unavailingly. The +heart of the zealous policeman was not to be touched. Side by side +they marched; he with his dreadful hand upon her arm, she holding with +reluctant fingers the corners of the apron which contained the proofs +of her crime. Jane Plummer passed that night in the police-station, +and the next morning was brought face to face with Justice. The +policeman, with modest triumph, gave his evidence. + +"Taken red-handed," observed the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell to the +dummy by his side, who nodded with the wisdom of an owl, and asked the +prisoner what she had to say for herself. + +Tremblingly and with sobs, Jane Plummer said, + +"If you please, your worship, it was bitter cold, and I had no fire at +home, and no money to buy coal; and as I was passing by Mr. Icicle's +wood, I gathered a few sticks to boil my kettle. There is a path +through the wood, and I picked up the sticks by the side of the path. +I didn't think there was any harm in it; the sticks ain't worth a +ha'penny!" + +"Had prisoner any money upon her, policeman?" + +"A penny and a farthing, your worship." + +Thereupon the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell remarked that the rights of +property must be respected; and the sapient Justice of the Peace, +having property, read Jane Plummer a lecture upon her offence, and, +looking at some writing on a paper handed to him by his reverend +counsellor, passed sentence--two shillings and sixpence fine, and +three shillings and sixpence costs, or seven days' imprisonment. + +"And I hope," added the law's administrator, with more owl's wisdom, +"that this will be a caution to you never to touch sticks in +gentlemen's woods again." + +Jane Plummer sobbed that she would never, never, never do so again and +went to prison to brood upon her sin. + +These are but two cases out of many which the Reverend Emanuel +Creamwell was instrumental in deciding. No doubt that, being actuated +by a love for justice presumably more merciful (in these enlightened +times) than the old Mosaic law of eye for eye and tooth for tooth, he +often had to wrestle with his tender feelings; but he overcame them, +as Jacob did the angel. And this mention of Jacob suggests the vision +of his ladder. Say that the steps of the ladder by which the Reverend +Emanuel Creamwell was to ascend to heaven were to be formed by good +and just actions, surely such sentences as those he was instrumental +in passing upon the baker's boy and hapless Jane Plummer would not be +forgotten. If this thought ever occurred to him, it must have afforded +him much consolation. + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + + THE REVEREND EMANUEL CREAMWELL AND HIS SON TAKE DIFFERENT + VIEWS OF THINGS. + + +This that we see before us might be, to a fanciful mind, the +commencement of the ladder to heaven referred to in the last chapter. +It is but a sunbeam, slanting from window to floor. Strangely out of +place it seems in the gloomy study which it illumines, but the myriad +motes within it sparkle and flash merrily, without reference to +surrounding things. It is but a sunbeam, slanting from window to +floor, but there are contained within it that you and I might be the +better for knowing. At the simple suggestion of the thought, a darker +cloud casts a shadow upon the window through which the sunbeam has +stolen, and it vanishes, leaving the study utterly dreary and gloomy. +The furniture in the study is heavy and ponderous, the curtains to the +windows are heavy and dark, and the bookcase is oppressive and +burdened with lore. Can the house, of which this funereal study forms +part, be a home? The cloud passes, and the sunbeam is alive again. +Truant flashes of light dart in, and shifting restlessly in the +corners of the room, strive vainly to hide themselves, as if they are +conscious that they have no business in a place so serious and solemn, +and wonder how they could have been so unwise as to enter. In the +midst of their tribulation the door opens, and the Reverend Emanuel +Creamwell enters. A deeper frown than usual is on his face. He holds a +letter in his hand, which he has evidently been reading more and more. + +"A Wesleyan Methodist!" he mutters. "Never been baptized in the Church +of England! And the man's name is Verity, too. How could it have +escaped me before? The very man, perhaps, to whom this paper refers." + +He takes a small packet of papers from his desk, and selects one. + +"A strange story," he muses, after reading it; "no person has any +legal claim to what is due upon the debt. The statute of limitations +has wiped off the obligation years ago. But the moral claim remains. I +will see the man if he comes. I have some slight remembrance of him, +as a man of strong opinions." + +He refers to other papers, the perusal of which is evidently +displeasing to him, if one can judge from the expression of his face. +He pushes them aside, and leans back in his chair to think. Of what? +Of his wife, who has been dead for twenty years. Not with affection +does he think of her. But for a living remembrance she left behind +her, she might have been to him as one who had never existed. This +living remembrance is a child--a son--who, having completed his +studies abroad (a phrase peculiarly adapted to fiction), has come home +after many years of absence, with no prospects, no profession, and no +settled aims or views for the future. Not that this gives the young +gentleman the slightest concern. He is as careless a soul as is to be +met with here and there, and he can spend a sovereign or a sixpence +with equal pleasure. An uncle, who had paid all the expenses of his +training and education (upon the express understanding that his nephew +was to live away from home), had lately died, and this afternoon had +been appointed for the father and son to confer together upon business +matters. And upon mention of the subject, here he is. A young +gentleman with no trace of seriousness in his manner, with almost +laughing face, and with an easy self-possession that it would +evidently take a great deal to disconcert; altogether (asking pardon +first for the irreverence of the comparison) no more like his father +than was Hyperion to a satyr. A bright flower is in his coat. + +"Good-day, father." Although it is afternoon, it is the first time +they have met to-day. + +"Good-day, Shad----" + +But before he can get the name out, his son laughingly interrupts him. + +"Felix, father; Felix, if you love me!" + +The Rev. Emanuel Creamwell waives the latter proposition, and says in +a displeased tone, + +"I cannot understand your reason for changing your name." + +"I don't like it, father. It sounds mean. Shadrach!" + +"It is a Scriptural name," says the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell +solemnly. + +"So is the one I have chosen in its place--Felix. I never could +respect a man with the name of Shadrach. Besides," adds Felix, with +twinkling eyes, "it is unfair to the firm." + +"To what firm do you refer?" + +"Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. They should never be parted. You +know well enough, father, that you never think of the one but the +other two partners pop up, as much as to say, 'Don't forget us, +please! We belong to the firm.'" + +Hard lines come about the thin-lipped mouth of the Reverend Emanuel +Creamwell, and he says, with deepening frowns, + +"The light manner in which you speak of these things is especially +displeasing to me, and is entirely out of place in my presence and in +this house." + +"I almost seem to be out of place myself here," says Felix, with the +slightest trace of vexation in his manner. + +"Perhaps so; we will discuss that presently. Whoever lives here must +conform to my rules. You were smoking in your bedroom last night." + +"True, sir." + +"I do not allow smoking." + +"I will not smoke here again. I'll smoke my cigar in the open air for +the future." + +"I should prefer your not smoking at all; _I_ don't smoke." + +"Why, sir, you wouldn't keep everybody from smoking because you don't +smoke? If it were not for tobacco, the revenue of nations would go +to----" + +"Blazes," he is about to say, but he checks himself in time. There is +so little in unison between these two natures, that when they meet it +seems to be almost a necessity that they should clash. One is harsh +and sour; the other is tolerant and sweet. Felix was more the son of +his mother than the son of his father; the sweetness of her nature had +come to him with the milk he had drawn from her breast. Father and son +had not been brought together for very many years until now, and the +experience they have gained of each other is not agreeable to either +of them. + +"You scarcely need me to tell you," says the Reverend Emanuel +Creamwell, as his son stopped at the dangerous word, "that your +remarks do continual violence to my feelings." + +"We certainly don't seem to pull nicely together, father. You have +some business matters to speak to me about. Perhaps it will be as well +to proceed to them." + +The Reverend Emanuel Creamwell looks among the papers on the table, +and says, + +"Your uncle, as you know, died six weeks ago." + +"So your letter informed me. Did you see him before he died?" + +"I have not seen him for years. I did not approve of him; and but for +its being understood that he intended to leave you as his heir, I +should have declined to be upon friendly terms with him." + +"He was my mother's brother, and he has been kind to me." + +"So far as defraying the expenses of your education----" + +"_All_ my expenses, father," interrupts Felix. "Please to remember +that he made me a regular allowance." + +"By which you intend me to remember also," says the Reverend Emanuel +Creamwell with a frown, "that you have been no expense to me." + +"If you please to put it that way, you can. But I should prefer your +thinking that I reminded you of the circumstance in order that you +might do justice to the memory of my uncle." + +"I do not need you to remind me of my duty; I need _no_ reminding of +that. It is always before me. The tone of your remarks, and your +general bearing towards me, proceed from the stipulation made by your +uncle that you should be educated away from me and from this house." + +"I mean no disrespect to you, father, believe me," exclaims Felix +eagerly; "but everything about me here is so--so different from what I +have been accustomed to, that I feel myself almost in a strange land." +He might have said more, but he restrains himself. He might have said, +"Coming home as I have done, ready and wishful to be upon affectionate +terms with a father who never showed any love for me--coming home with +a studied resolution to try and conform to my father's wishes, and to +gain for myself a place in his affections--I find myself baffled at +every turn. When my father met me, after years of absence, he met me +with no smile upon his face. He might have been a man of stone for all +the warmth he showed to me; a stranger could not have exhibited less +tenderness in his greeting. And so it has gone on from the moment I +set foot in this house, which is cold enough and gloomy enough to +chill one's blood." Felix does not say this, but he thinks it, and +much more to the same effect, and at the same time wonders a little +whether he is in any way to blame for things being so different from +what he hoped and expected. + +"The stipulation made by your uncle," proceeds the Reverend Emanuel +Creamwell, "has thrown you into scenes and into a way of living that +would certainly not meet with my approval; and if you wish to remain +here, you must positively conform to my views. It is for you to +change, not for me." + +"Before we speak of this," says Felix, in as calm a tone as he can +command, for the uncompromising bearing of his father grates strongly +upon him, "will you be kind enough to tell me something more of my +uncle? I have my future to look to now, and although it does not give +me any anxiety, for I am sure to be all right"--with a careless wave +of his hand to show that all the world was at his feet--"I would like +to know what I have to depend on. My uncle must have died very +suddenly." + +"Sudden death is what we should all prepare ourselves for. I hope you +have reflected seriously upon this and other matters not appertaining +to this life." + +"I don't know that I have, father," says Felix laughingly; "it's bad +enough when it comes." + +"I feared it!" exclaims the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell. "Not prepared! +not prepared!" + +The tone in which his father utters this lamentation is so exactly +similar to the other lamentations which he has heard in other places, +and which he has been in the habit of looking upon as unworthy of +regard, that Felix with difficulty suppresses his disdain; but he is +of too frank and open a nature not to make upon the instant a +confession of faith--a confession so dreadful that the Reverend +Emanuel Creamwell listened in undisguised wrath. + +"I don't suppose I am prepared, father, in the way you mean, and I +must confess that I don't see what necessity there is for it. I am not +sent into the world to mourn; there are things in it that I like to +enjoy, and that I think I was sent to enjoy; otherwise, they would not +be provided. I sha'n't be the worse for enjoying them, if I live till +I am seventy, and I shouldn't be the better for avoiding them, or for +looking upon them as sinful." + +Felix is aware of the bad impression he is producing upon his father, +but he deems it a point of honour not to falter, and he goes on to the +end with a certain manliness that would be refreshing in any other +place than the cheerless study in which he is sitting. + +"May I inquire what you call yourself in the matter of religion?" asks +the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell gloomily. + +"Well, father," replies Felix, with a certain puzzled hesitation, "I +suppose I should call myself a Church-of-England man; but I would much +prefer to call myself a Christian." + +"It is useless, I expect," observes the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell, +after a pause, "to enter into a discussion upon these subjects with +you?" + +"Quite useless, I should say, father." + +"Then we will continue about your uncle's affairs," said the Reverend +Emanuel Creamwell, with the air of one who, encountering a difficulty, +finds it insurmountable; and, curiously enough, with the air of one +who feels relieved in consequence. "As I was your uncle's nearest +relative, and it was understood that you were his heir, I thought it +my duty, immediately I heard of his death, to hasten to his house. I +then, to my astonishment, discovered that he had expended the whole of +his property in the purchase of a life annuity, which, of course, dies +with him. After payment of certain claims, which could not be +resisted, the estate leaves you, as your uncle's heir, the exact sum +of one hundred and ten pounds." + +A sour smile plays about the lips of the Rev. Emanuel Creamwell; +thankful as he would have been for a more fortunate issue of his +brother-in-law's death as relieving him of a responsibility which he +is afraid may fall upon him, and which he is wishful to be rid of, he +is not displeased at this triumph over his son. But Felix is more +surprised than hurt; there is no such feeling in his breast as +animosity towards his uncle because a fortune is not left to him. He +says in a gentle voice, + +"I am not the less grateful to him for what he has done for me; and I +cannot say exactly whether I am sorry that he did not leave me a +fortune. I can understand now the reason of his urging me to choose a +profession. He knew that he had nothing to leave me, and that I should +have to depend upon myself. But he did not think that he would have +died so soon; he was a healthy strong man, and the probability was +that he had many years of life before him." + +"I told you," interposes the Rev. Emanuel Creamwell grimly, "that we +should all be prepared for sudden death; he was not prepared for it." + +"We have spoken of that already," replies Felix, in a dry tone, "and +it will not profit us to pursue the subject. I know that many a bad +word was said about him, but after all perhaps he was not much worse +than many of his neighbours. I, at all events, have cause to be +grateful to him. I have no doubt that, had he lived, he would have +helped me to make a career for myself. But that is still before me; I +haven't the slightest fear. The circumstance of his leaving so small +an estate speaks for him. It proves that in the allowance he made me +he went to the full extent of his means, and that between us we +managed to swallow up his annuity pretty well to the last shilling." +In his anxiety to do justice to the memory of his uncle, his generous +mind seizes every point that reflects credit upon the dead man. "Be a +lawyer, he wrote to me over and over again, be an architect, be an +engineer, be something, whatever it is, and come home and let us set +about it. That showed he was in earnest, and meant to stand by me." + +"We are not likely to agree upon this or any other subject. I have but +few words to say in conclusion, relating to your uncle's affairs. He +left a request behind him, in a document written some years ago, that +when he died all his papers and letters should be burnt. This was +done; they were all burnt with the exception of one, which contains +the recital of a singular story; I thought it desirable to keep it, as +it may be worth money, and as I think it concerns a man who once dwelt +in this locality. And that, I believe, is all I have to say respecting +your uncle." + +A long and embarrassing silence follows, each knowing that the most +momentous part of the interview is to come. Felix is unusually grave, +for he cannot but feel that the relations existing between himself and +his father are to some extent unnatural. Anxious as he is to find the +road to his father's good wishes--affection seems to be out of the +question--the consciousness is forced upon him that the only road open +to him is one the treading of which will compel him to be false to +himself. And that he cannot be. Come what may, he is determined not to +play the hypocrite. He is the first to break the silence. + +"You have something else to speak of, father." + +The Reverend Emanuel Creamwell clears his throat, in precisely the +same way as he was in the habit of doing when he was about to deliver +a more than usually disagreeable discourse to his congregation. This +clearing of the throat did not have the effect usually produced; it +did not clear his voice. On the contrary, his tones on these occasions +invariably became more harsh and discordant--like rusty iron. It is in +these rusty-iron tones he speaks now, and every word he utters grates +upon Felix, and sets his soul on edge. + +"I have something else to speak of, but the subject is the +same--yourself. I am disappointed in you." + +"I am sorry for it, father." + +"The opinions you entertain of religious matters are sinful in my +eyes. I should so regard them if they were entertained by a stranger, +and it is not because you are my son that I should exercise an unwise +leniency towards you in matters which I deem of the utmost importance. +You have contracted habits which I do not approve of. Your views I do +not approve of. Your dress, your manner, your general conduct, are not +in accordance with my ideas. That gay flower in your coat is +unnecessary. Outward observances show the inward spirit." + +"Not always, father," said Felix, with somewhat of recklessness; "I +have known men who wore masks." + +"Is that meant as an imputation upon me?" asks the Reverend Emanuel +Creamwell, the gulf between father and son widening at every word that +is spoken. + +"I was thinking at the moment," replies Felix, urged on by a feeling +he cannot resist, "of what a French writer said upon the subject of +outward observances and inward spirit. He said that the true man is +that which exists under what is called man, and that, strictly +speaking, the human visage is a mask." + +"Such vague generalities are after the common manner of French +romancists, whose writings lead the soul astray." + +Here Felix thinks scornfully, "Why drag the soul in?" but he does not +speak his thought. + +"They take us," continues the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell, joining the +tips of his fingers and thumbs, and making an arch of them, "from the +point we are speaking upon. I must desire that you do not break in +again with such unseemly interruptions." + +"I wish you would remember, father, that I am a man, and not a child. +I have opinions of my own, and it is no fault of mine if they do not +agree with yours." + +"You are my son, and, as such, owe me implicit obedience. You have not +decided yet as to a profession?" + +"No." + +"Your uncle dying leaves me in an unpleasant position. I am not rich; +I have but little money to spare. Something the world will expect me +to do for you----" + +"O, pray, sir," interrupted Felix, "don't study the world. I shall get +along well enough without assistance, I haven't the slightest doubt." + +"Something, I say, the world will expect me to do for you; but if I do +it, out of my small means, I shall require from you deference, +respect, obedience. I have expressed my opinion of your views. You say +in reply that you are a man, and have opinions of your own. Those +opinions you will perhaps find it advisable to change. Until a +profession is determined upon, you can stay here; but only upon the +express understanding that you conform to my rules. You are the best +judge whether this arrangement will suit you." + +Felix, with a wry face, is about to reject this ungracefully-offered +hospitality, and to say that perhaps it will be better for him to find +a lodgment elsewhere, when an interruption occurs. Voices are heard in +the passage, and the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell's housekeeper makes +her appearance at the study-door. Strictly speaking, she might be +described as a colourless woman, her dress being black, and her face +being white. + +"Some persons to see you, sir," she says. + +"I cannot be interrupted," replies the Reverend Mr. Creamwell. + +"But they insist, sir." + +"Name?" + +"Verity." + +"Let them come in." + +The next moment old Wheels with Lily and Alfred enter the room. + + + + + CHAPTER X. + + FELIX GOES OVER TO THE ENEMY. + + +Humbly they stood before the minister and his son, and there was +silence for a moment or two in the gloomy study. From the window of +the study the parish churchyard could be plainly seen, and Felix, +looking through the window while the conversation between his father +and the housekeeper was taking place, saw a coffin lying by the side +of a newly-made grave, and a little group of persons standing about it +in the sun's light. This group was composed of Gribble junior and his +wife, and Mrs. Podmore and her little Polly. Gribble junior's heir was +also there, under shade. The youngster was asleep on the turf at the +foot of a tall and weary tombstone, on which was an inscription to the +effect that the soul that had once animated the clay beneath it had +assuredly gone to the place where the wicked ceased from troubling and +the weary are at rest. The letters which recorded this desirable +consummation of a life's labour were nearly worn away by time, and the +woeful tombstone, as it leaned towards the earth, exhibited in its +attitude a yearning to fall upon its face, and to go also to the place +where the weary are at rest. Over the head of Gribble junior's heir a +large umbrella was spread to protect him from the sun. The umbrella +served two purposes--it kept the child in shade, and advertised the +business. For glaring upon the Cambridge blue silk was an +advertisement, in yellow paint, of Gribble junior's Royal Umbrella and +Parasol Hospital; and the proprietor of that establishment, +complacently surveying the announcement, did not seem to think that it +was at all out of place in the old churchyard. Little Polly, to whom +everything that she had never seen before possessed surpassing +interest, was looking about her with that solemn wonder which is often +seen on children's faces. The gravedigger, a young man who should have +known better, stood with his foot resting upon his spade; and the +group was completed by two very old men who took an interest in +funerals, and three dirty children with the usual dirty pinafores and +the usual staring eyes. + +The occasion was made quite a holiday by Mrs. Podmore and Mrs. Gribble +junior. When Lily's Mather died, there was much sympathy expressed for +her and her grandfather in the crowded house in Soho; and the women, +notwithstanding they had ordinarily not a minute to spare from their +pressing duties, busied themselves unostentatiously in assisting Lily +and the old man through their trouble. Thus, Mrs. Podmore took upon +herself Lily's household work, and cleaned and tidied the rooms, and +cooked the meals for them until after the funeral; and Mrs. Gribble +junior, being a perfect marvel with her needle, set to work at once +making a black dress and bonnet for Lily. This quick practical +sympathy is very common and very beautiful among the poor. Then Mrs. +Podmore and Mrs. Gribble junior had settled that they ought to go to +the funeral, which was to take place somewhere near Gravesend, in +accordance with the wish of the dying woman. They spoke of it to their +respective husbands. Gribble junior said, "We'll all go; and we'll +take the young 'un. He's never been to a funeral; it'll open up his +ideas, as a body might say." As if such an opportunity should, for the +baby's sake, on no account be allowed to slip. Mrs. Podmore told _her_ +husband when they were in bed. He had come home, worn and tired out as +usual, and while his wife expressed her views, he held his little +treasure--his darling Pollypod--close to his breast. He had a very +perfect love for his child. + +"All right--old woman," he said, in his weary manner, when his wife +had finished. "Go. It will be--a holiday for you." + +"And Polly?" said Mrs. Podmore "What shall I do with Polly?" + +"What shall you do--with Pollypod?" he repeated drowsily, hugging the +child. "Take her with you. It will be a treat--for her. My Pollypod! +She'll smell--the country--and see--the sun." He was falling off to +sleep, when he pulled himself up suddenly, and said, "And look +here--old woman! Don't bother about--my dinner. I'll make +shift--somehow." + +"Lord bless you, Jim!" exclaimed Mrs. Podmore: "I shall have a nice +meat-pudden for you. My man ain't going without his dinner." + +So it was settled, and when Mrs. Podmore, the next morning, spoke of +it to old Wheels, he was grateful for the attention, and said there +would be plenty of room in the coach for them all. Mrs. Podmore's +great difficulty was a black dress to go in; she could not go in a +coloured dress, and could not afford to buy a new one. But on the day +of the funeral she made her appearance in black, having borrowed her +plumes of a neighbour who was in mourning; Pollypod went in colours. + +As they had nearly twenty miles to go, the coach was at the door early +in the morning. All the neighbours round about came into the street to +gaze at it and the mourners. They stood and talked in whispers. Their +sympathy was chiefly reserved for Lily and the coffin. "Hush-sh-sh! +There's the coffin. Hush-sh-sh!" as if their very whispers might +disturb the dead. Then, when Lily came out, the women shook their +heads, and said, "Poor dear! Poor dear! How pale she is! Ah, she +didn't look like that the other night at the White Rose." Presently +they expressed surprise because the children were going, but said, a +moment afterwards, "Ah, well, it will be a nice ride for them." + +Gribble junior's father, master of the chandler-shop, and foe to +co-operation, having been assured by his son that his late lodger was +not to be buried by co-operation, also patronised the starting of the +funeral with his presence. He had a corrugated face, not unlike the +outside of an old walnut-shell, and it would have been difficult to +have persuaded him that there was hope of salvation for the deceased +if the coffin had been a co-operative production. + +The party being large a one, a coach of an extra size had been +provided. Gribble junior rode outside the coach, with the driver; the +others, each mother with her child on her lap, and the coffin, were +inside. He liked his position on the box, and thoroughly enjoyed the +ceremony. As he sat there, he looked round with a sad gentle smile +upon his neighbours. The day was fine, and the coach moved slowly +through the narrow streets, as was befitting and proper. Common as the +sight is, everybody turns his head or pauses for a moment to look at a +coach with a coffin in it. Women come to the windows and gaze at it +with a kind of quiet fascination; dirty children suspend their games +and stand in admiration at the corners of the streets; idle +shopkeepers come to their doors in their aprons; and mothers bring +their babies to see the coach go by--truly suggestive of the cradle +and the grave. Gribble junior relished this attention on the part of +the public. He took it in some measure as a tribute to himself, and +even derived satisfaction from the thought that many of the persons +who stopped and gazed must believe him to be a near relative of the +deceased. He was as little of a hypocrite as it is in the nature of +human beings to be, but he deemed it necessary to his position to +assume a mournful demeanour; and he did so accordingly, and sighed +occasionally. When the coach got away from the narrow streets, it +moved faster. Gribble junior had brought a Cambridge blue-silk +umbrella with him, which, however, he did not open on the journey. He +and his wife and Mrs. Podmore enjoyed the ride amazingly. To escape +for a few hours from the narrow labyrinths of Soho was good; to get +into a little open country where grass and flowers were growing and +blooming was better; and to see bright colour come to the children's +cheeks and bright sparkles to their eyes was best of all. It was as +Mr. Podmore said, a treat for them. The wives had brought sandwiches +and bread-and-butter with them, and water in ginger-beer bottles. +(Gribble junior, outside the coach, had two bottles filled with +beer--four-penny ale--which he and the driver drank and enjoyed.) The +women offered part of their refreshments to the relatives of the dead +woman, but not one of the mourners could eat. In the early part of the +journey, little Pollypod was inclined to show her enjoyment of the +ride somewhat demonstratively, but Mrs. Podmore whispered to the +child, "Hush, Polly dear! Lily's mother's in there!" pointing to the +coffin. Pollypod had blue eyes, very bright, though not very large; +but the brightness went out of them and they grew larger as she +learned this fact and looked at the coffin. A little while afterwards, +having watched and waited and debated the point with herself, without +being able to come to a satisfactory conclusion, Pollypod asked why +Lily's mother did not get out of the box. + +"_I_ would!" said Pollypod. "If I was shut up there, I'd cry, and +you'd let me out; wouldn't you? Wicked box! Father couldn't play with +me if I was shut up in you!" And listened and wondered why the clay in +the coffin did not cry to escape. + +Once during the ride, Lily nursed Polly for comfort, and the child, +with her lips to Lily's ear, said, + +"Lily, I want to know!" + +It was one of Pollypod's peculiarities that she was always wanting to +know. + +"Well, Polly?" + +"Was Lily's mother naughty?" + +"O, no, Polly! O, no!" + +"What is she shut up in the box for, then?" + +"She is gone from us, Polly dear." + +"Was _you_ naughty, Lily?" continued the inquisitive little Pollypod; +"and is _that_ the reason why she's gone?" + +"No, Polly, dear." + +"What is the reason, then, Lily?" inquired the pertinacious little +maid. "I want to know." + +"God has taken her, Polly," said Lily, in a tearful voice. + +"Where has God taken her to, Lily?" + +"There!" pointing upwards. + +What did the matter-of-fact little maid do, there and then, but go to +the window, and look into the bright sky for Lily's mother? Mrs. +Podmore kept her there, and whispered to her that poor Lily was not +well and must not be teased. But the child, at intervals, turned her +perplexed eyes to the coffin and then to the beautiful clouds, not at +all satisfied in her mind, and with all her heart "wanting to know." + +At length the ride, weary to some and pleasant to some, was over, and +they were in the churchyard and by the grave. There a man, taking old +Wheels aside, spoke a few words to him. An expression of amazement, +almost of horror, came into the old man's face. + +"It is impossible!" he exclaimed, in a tone of uncontrollable +agitation. "Here--beneath God's sky!--Surely you are mistaken." + +The man replied that there was no mistake. + +"Where is the minister?" inquired the old man. "Is that his house? I +will go and see him. Come, children, come with me." + +And leaving his friends by the grave, the old man, followed by his +grandchildren, walked swiftly to the house of the Reverend Emanuel +Creamwell. + +When the relatives of the dead woman entered the gloomy study, Felix, +seeing a tender girl among them, offered Lily a chair. She bowed +without looking into his face, and although she did not sit down, she +rested her hand upon the chair, as if she needed support. If the +thoughts which animated the minds of the five persons in that sombre +study had been laid bare, the strangest of contrasts would have been +seen. There sat the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell; behind him was his +son. They were at variance with one another, and each felt himself so +much in the other's way, that if it had not been for the tie of +kinship that bound them, their opposing natures would have led to the +plain expression of scorn and contempt on the one side, and of harsh +and bitter condemnation on the other. + +There stood the delicate girl, whose nerves during the last few days +had been strung to the highest point of which her nature was capable. +A pure and tender lily indeed, as graceful as the flower from which +she derived her name, and whose white bells, as they arch among the +vivid leaves of green, tremble in the lightest breath from zephyr's +mouth. It was so with Lily at this time. A harsh word would have +caused her to quiver with pain. The effect which the suddenness of her +mother's death, and the terrifying dreams that followed, had produced +upon her had not passed away. Like the lily she stood there, dependent +upon surrounding things almost for very life itself; kind looks and +sweet words gladdened her and helped to make her strong, as kind +sunshine and sweet breezes gladden and make strong the flower. And +like the flower, the light in which she stood seemed to come from +inward brightness and purity. + +Her brother Alfred stood by her side. What was stirring in his mind? +Well, it was the day on which the Northumberland Plate was run for at +the Newcastle-upon-Tyne races. The race was over by this time. Had +Christopher Sly won? He trembled to think that it might have been +beaten--had come in second, perhaps; had lost "by a head." If it had, +there was woe in store for him. If he were in London, he would know; +this uncertainty was torturing. Now he was in the depth of misery: +Christopher Sly had lost, and he had to pay money, and to make money +good, out of an empty purse. Now he was in the height of gladness: the +horse _could_ not lose--every one of the prophets had said so; +Christopher Sly had won, and everything was right. It was like a +reprieve from death. + +Lastly, the grandfather. What his thoughts were will be shown in +words. A strange and unexpected trouble had been added to his grief, +and his handsome thoughtful face showed traces of perplexed anxiety. + +When Felix had offered Lily a chair, the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell +had killed the proffered courtesy with an irritable wave of his hand, +which expressed, "You will not presume to sit in my presence." In +everything that Felix did he found cause for anger, and he believed +that his son was animated by a distinct wish to thwart and oppose him; +this very proffered courtesy to one of these persons was another +argument in his mind against Felix. Marble in the hands of a +sympathetic worker was more capable of tenderness and gentleness than +was the face of the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell as he sat in his +arm-chair and waited for the intruders to speak. + +"My name, sir, is Verity," commenced the old man, in a humble and +respectful voice. + +"So I understand," said the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell, in a hard and +cold voice. + +Lily shivered as the harshly-spoken words fell upon her ears. + +"These are my grandchildren," indicating Lily and Alfred. + +"A gentleman," thought Felix, as he followed the courteous action of +the old man. + +The Reverend Emanuel Creamwell received the intimation with a scarcely +perceptible nod, and a colder chill came upon Lily's sensitive spirit +as she raised her eyes to the dark face of the minister. + +"They are the children of my dead daughter," continued the old man, +"who before she died expressed a wish to be buried in the place which +had been familiar to her in her younger and happier days." + +"These details are scarcely necessary, I should say. What are you here +for?" + +The old man's agitation was so great that he was compelled to pause +before he answered; but strength seemed to come to him as he looked at +the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell's stony face. + +"The mother of these children is waiting in the churchyard to be +buried." + +"You received my message, I have no doubt." + +"Some words were spoken to me as coming from you." + +"Were not they sufficient?" + +"I could not believe, sir, that the words which were delivered to me +came from the lips of a minister of God." + +A flash of something very like anger lighted up the small eyes of the +Reverend Emanuel Creamwell. + +"And so you come here to revile His minister?" + +"I come here in all humility, sir," replied the old man. + +"Do you wish me to repeat the message?" + +"I wish to know, sir, that I have been mistaken. I cannot believe that +what I have been told is true." + +"It is the evil of the ungodly that they cannot answer straight. Do +you wish me to repeat the message?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"It is very simple. My intimation was to the effect that I cannot +perform any service over the deceased woman." + +"The prayers for the dead----" exclaimed the old man imploringly. + +"Are not for her!" said the minister, finishing the sentence sternly. + +At these dreadful words Felix started forward to Lily's side; the +young girl was trembling, and he feared she was about to fall. Indeed +she would have fallen, but for his helping hand. Inward fire possessed +the soul of the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell at the action of his son +and his wrath was expressed in his face. Felix saw it, but did not +heed it; his lips were firmly set as he yielded Lily to her +grandfather's arms, who, as he bent over her, murmured, + +"I would have spared you the pain, my darling! But I thought that your +helplessness and your innocent face would have pleaded for us." + +Then he turned to the minister. "Why do you refuse to perform the last +rites over the body of my daughter?" + +"I am mistaken if you have not been informed. Her parents were members +of the Wesleyan Methodist body, and the woman was not baptized in the +Church of England. Therefore I cannot say prayers over her." + +"Is that God's law?" + +"It is mine!" replied the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell, with +inconsiderate haste. If, when he heard the rejoinder, he could have +caused the old man to fall into dust at his feet, he would have done +so. + +"You say truly, sir," said the old man, in a tone of bitter calmness. +"It is not God's law; it is yours." + +The Reverend Emanuel Creamwell shaded his face with his hand; he did +not choose that the feeling there expressed should be seen. He knew, +by his son's sympathetic movement towards Lily, that Felix had gone +over to the enemy, and a consciousness possessed him that Felix was +not displeased at his discomfiture. Still it was his duty to assert +himself, and he did so accordingly in severe measured terms, and in +tones utterly devoid of feeling. + +"I have already told you that you came here to revile--to revile God +through His minister. It is such as you who set men's minds afire, and +drive them into the pit." + +But the old man interrupted him with, + +"Nay, sir, do not let us argue; I at least have no time. A dead woman +is waiting for me. I must go and seek a minister who will say prayers +over the poor clay. Come, my children." + +"To seek a minister!" echoed the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell. "What +minister?" + +"A Methodist minister, as that is your will." + +"Presumptuous!" exclaimed the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell, in wrath so +pious that a colour came to his usually pale face. "No Methodist +minister can be allowed to pray in _my_ churchyard!"--with a +protecting look and motion of his fingers towards the ground where the +dead lay--a look which said, "Fear not! My lips have blessed you; my +prayers have sanctified you. Ye shall not be defiled!" + +"How, then, is my daughter to be buried?" asked the old man, with his +hand to his heart. + +"The woman must be buried in silence," replied the minister. + +As if in sympathy with the words, a dark cloud passed across the face +of the sun, and the sunbeam, with its myriad wonders, vanished on the +instant, while the truant flashes of light that were playing in the +corners of the room darted gladly away to places where light was. + +The old man bowed his head, and the words came slowly from his +trembling lips. + +"Cruel! Unjust! Wicked!" he said. "Bitterly, bitterly wicked! Do we +not all worship the same God? What has this innocent clay done, that +holy words may not fall upon the earth that covers her? What have we +done, that the last consolation of prayer shall be denied to us?" Then +looking the minister steadily in the face, he said in a firm voice, +"According to your deserts may you be judged! According to your +deserts may you, who set your law above God's, and call yourself His +priest, be dealt with when your time comes!" + +Turning, he was about to go, when the voice of the Reverend Emanuel +Creamwell stopped him. + +"Now that you have done your reviling, attend to me for a few moments. +You lived in this parish once?" + +"Twenty years ago," replied the old man. "All my life up to that +time--I and my poor daughter. There will be some here who will +remember me." + +"I remember you myself. You had a son?" + +"No; I had but one child, she who lies yonder." + +"Psha! it is the same--you had a son-in-law----" + +The old man looked up with apprehensive eagerness, and Alfred, who had +hitherto been perfectly passive--having indeed for most of the time +been engrossed in torturing himself about Christopher Sly and the +Northumberland Plate--made a sudden movement forward. The old man laid +his hand upon his grandson's arm, cautioning him to silence. + +"The father of these young persons," continued the Reverend Emanuel +Creamwell. "Where is he?" + +"Alfred," exclaimed the old man, "take Lily away. It is too close for +her here. I will join you presently outside." + +Indeed, Lily was almost fainting. The long weary ride, the abstention +from food for so many hours, and the sufferings she had experienced +during the dialogue between her grandfather and the minister, had been +too much for her strength. Seeing her weak state, Felix stepped +forward to assist Alfred, and presently they were in the porch. + +"Stay one moment, I pray," exclaimed Felix hurriedly; "only a moment." + +He darted into the house, and brought out a chair. + +"There!" he said. "Let her sit here for a minute or two. It will do +her good. The sun is the other side of us." + +It is a fact that Felix, with quick instinct, had selected this place +as being likely to revive the girl. They were out of the glare of the +sun. + +"Now, if you will oblige me and not let her move," he said in the same +hurried eager tone, "you will lay me under an obligation that I shall +never be able to pay." + +The words were scarcely out of his mouth before he was upstairs, in +his own room, tearing open his valise; he scattered the things wildly +about, and came flying down again, with a fine white handkerchief and +a bottle of Cologne water in his hand. He poured the liquid upon the +handkerchief, and, with a delicate consideration, handed it to Alfred. + +"Bathe her forehead with it; place it on her forehead, so. Now blow +gently--gently. Let me!" + +He blew upon the handkerchief, and the deliciously cool breeze revived +the fainting girl. She looked gratefully into his face, which turned +crimson beneath her gaze. But his task was not yet completed, it +seemed. He took from his pocket a flask, which he had also found in +his valise. There was a little silver cup attached to the flask, and +he poured a golden liquid into it. + +"Taste this; it will do you good. Nay, put your lips to it; there's no +harm in it. Your brother will drink first to show you how reviving it +is." + +His voice was like a fountain; there was something so hearty, and +frank, and good in it, that it refreshed her. Alfred emptied the +silver cup, and her eyes brightened. + +"Take a little, Lily," he said; "it _will_ do you good." + +She drank a little, and felt stronger at once. + +"Where's grandfather?" she asked then. + +"He will be with you presently," replied Felix. "I am going into him. +I will tell him to come to you. But before I go," and here his voice +faltered, and became more earnest, "I want you to say that you forgive +me for any pain that you may have felt in--in there," pointing in the +direction of the room they had left. + +"Forgive you!" said Lily, in surprise. "Why, you have been kind to us +It was not you who said those dreadful words to grandfather. There is +nothing to forgive in you." + +"There is much to forgive," said Felix impetuously; "much, very much, +if it be true that the sins of the father shall be visited on the +children. I am in that state of remorse that I feel as if I had been +the cause of your suffering and your pain." + +"Nay, you must not think that," she said, in a very gentle voice; "I +am not well, and we have come a long, long way." + +"Well, but humour my whim," he persisted; "it will please me. Say, 'I +forgive you.'" + +"I forgive you," she said, with a sad sweet smile. + +"Thank you," he said gravely, and touched her hand: and as he walked +into the house again, and into the study where his father and old +Wheels were, Lily's sad smile lingered with him, and made him, it may +be presumed, more unreasonably remorseful. + +While this scene was being enacted outside the Reverend Emanuel +Creamwell's house, the conversation between the minister and old +Wheels was proceeding. When Lily was out of the room, the old man +said, + +"Will you please detain me here as short a time as possible, sir, as +we have much to do and far to go?" + +"I will not detain you long," said the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell, in +the tone of a man who is about to smite his enemy on the hip; +"possibly you would not have remained, had you not been curious to +know what I have to say respecting your son-in-law." + +"Possibly not, sir; you may guess the reason why I wished the tender +girl who was here just now not to be present while you spoke." + +"Because I might say something unpleasant. Well, it is not a +creditable story. Searching among the papers of a deceased man, having +warranty to do so, his effects being the property of my son, I came +upon this paper. It recites a singular story of an embezzlement, which +took place--let me see; ah, yes--which took place nearly eighteen +years ago. You know the story, probably?" + +"There are so many stories of embezzlement. Is my name mentioned?" + +"Otherwise I should not have spoken of the matter to you. After +reciting the manner of the embezzlement and the name of the criminal, +it speaks of intercession by you on his behalf, and how, somewhat out +of compassion and somewhat out of policy, criminal proceedings were +withheld. You undertook to repay the money, and after the payment of +one large sum, dates are set down on which smaller sums were paid on +account from time to time." + +"Anything to deny?" asked the minister. + +At this point Felix entered the room. + +"Nothing to deny. The story is true." + +"And you," exclaimed the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell loftily, "the +father of a criminal who should be expiating his crime in prison, +presume to lift your voice against me! Truly, I should but be doing my +duty to society if I were to make the matter public." + +"Do I understand that the man from whom the money was embezzled is +dead?" + +"He is dead." + +"There is a balance still due," said old Wheels; "one hundred pounds. +Has he left the claim to any one?" + +"My son is heir to the property," said the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell. + +"Your son!" There were traces of disappointment in the old man's voice +as he looked at Felix. "Is this he?" + +"This is he." + +"You shall be repaid, sir," said the old man humbly to Felix, "to the +last farthing." Felix, who had stood before the old man with head +inclined, turned away abruptly at these words, and looked out of +window. "It is but just," continued the old man in firm and gentle +tones, "that you and he should know, that no one was to blame but the +unfortunate man who committed the crime--for crime it was undoubtedly, +although the law judged it not. The children who were here awhile ago +were babes at the time, and it was to save all of us from shame and +misery that I undertook to repay the money. I have been all my life +paying it, as you may see by the statement in your hand. I did not +know that such a document was in existence. I have a signed quittance +for the money at home, and have had from the time I paid the first +instalment, which, as you see, was large enough to wipe off at once +three-fourths of the debt. But the moral claim remained and remains. +It is my pride to think that some part of my dear granddaughter's +earnings have gone towards the clearing of her father's shame, of +which, up to the present moment, she has never heard. Depend upon it, +sir, the balancer that remains shall be faithfully paid. Have you +anything farther to say to me?" + +"Nothing farther. You can go." + +The old man lingered as though he were wishful to say a word to Felix; +but that young gentleman, standing with his back to him, gave him no +opportunity, and he left the study in silence. Then the Reverend +Emanuel Creamwell rose and, paced the room, indulging in bitter +meditations. It had been an unfortunate afternoon for him; everything +but this last small triumph had gone wrong with him; he had been +crossed, almost defied, at every turn. First, his son; then, this +presumptuous old man, whose words were still burning in his mind. And +his son's silence now irritated him. Every moment added to his +irritation. Felix, standing with his face to the window, looking out +upon the churchyard, and upon the figures of the old man and his +grandchildren walking towards the grave, showed no disposition to move +or to speak. In the eyes of his father this implied disrespect. He was +not destitute of a certain decision of character, and in harsh tones +he called upon Felix, to speak. + +"I have been considering, sir," said Felix. "I ask your pardon for +keeping you waiting." + +"Considering what?" demanded the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell. + +"The proposition you made to me before these persons intruded upon us. +You offered me a shelter here, until I determined upon a profession. + +"On the express understanding that you conform to my rules." + +"I do not forget, sir. Those were your very words. Will you permit +me?" He took from the table the document which had been referred to in +the conversation that had lately taken place. "And this old man has +been all his life paying a debt for which he was not liable! There is +hope yet for human nature, sir." A queer smile came upon his lips as +he uttered these words in a half-gentle, half-bantering tone. + +"Speak plainly," was the stern rejoinder of the Reverend Emanuel +Creamwell. + +"I will try to do so. My uncle left a request that all his papers +should be burnt, and I am my uncle's heir. Why was this preserved?" + +"You have heard: for your good. It is worth money to you. The man +admits the claim." + +"Money!" exclaimed Felix, with a light laugh, in which there was +bitterness: "But the dead must be obeyed." + +He went to the fireplace, struck a match, and applied the light to the +paper. The Reverend Emanuel Creamwell, with face white with anger, +watched the burning of the paper. Felix let the ashes fall into the +fender, and tapped his fingers lightly together, with the air of one +wiping away a soil. + +"So!" he said. "I wash my hands of that." + +"You know what you have done?" said the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell, +placing his hand upon the table to steady himself. + +"Yes, sir," answered, Felix gravely; "I shall never trouble you +again." + +Then he left the room quietly and sadly. + + + + + CHAPTER XI. + + FELIX, DISSATISFIED WITH THE REALITY, SETS UP AN IDOL, AND + WORSHIPS IT. + + +In the passage Felix was confronted by the colourless housekeeper. He +had a kindly feeling for her. She had been his father's housekeeper +ever since he could remember. She was a young woman and well-looking +when he was a little child. When he came home, a man, she had +addressed him in the old familiar way, and he was surprised at the +change in her; but he soon recognised that living all her life within +the influence of his father's house had made her what she was. Now, +as, she confronted him, he gave her a kind nod, and would have passed +her: but she laid her hand upon his arm to detain him. + +"Where are you going?" she asked. + +"Into the churchyard," he answered. + +"Where, after that?" + +"A subtle question, Martha. Who knows where he goes to after he gets +into the churchyard?" + +"Where, after that?" she repeated. + +"Ask the worms," he replied; and added, somewhat bitterly, "or the +preachers." + +"Answer me, Felix," she said. + +"I can't;" and again he attempted to pass her. + +"Nay," she said, almost entreatingly; "let me speak to you for a +minute or two." + +"Come outside, then; I cannot speak to you here." + +She followed him into the porch. The chair which he had brought for +Lily was there, but Lily was gone. The fragrance of the scented water +he had sprinkled upon his handkerchief lingered in the air. He placed +his hand upon the chair, and in his fancy the sweet air became +associated with the tender girl who had rested there awhile ago. He +smiled, half gladly, half sadly, as the fancy came upon him. The +housekeeper watched him earnestly, as if striving to read his +thoughts. + +"Now, Felix, where are you going afterwards?" + +"I can't tell you, Martha," he replied--softly, for he was thinking of +Lily. "My plans are unformed." + +"When do you return?" + +"Never; unless something dearer than life brings me back." + +"You have had a quarrel with your father?" + +"You are a witch," he said lightly, "and ought to be burnt." + +"You have had a quarrel with your father," she repeated, showing no +temper at his light manner, but even seeming to take pleasure in it. + +"Something like that. We don't agree. There are not two rights, are +there, Martha?" + +"I am not sure; there may be." + +"I _am_ sure. My father's right and mine are as the north and the +south pole. If I am right, I must not stay here and vex him: it would +be unfilial. If he is right, I must sit in sackcloth and ashes, and +pray for fresh blood and bone and brain before we can meet again. Any +way I must go; that is settled." + +"Who settled it?" + +"He, or I, or both of us. Are you not witch enough to guess for +yourself? It came, somehow. That is enough. If you entertain the idea +that the difficulty is to be smoothed over----" + +"I do not," she interrupted. "I know your father." + +"And me--do you think you know me?" + +"I think I do." + +"Therefore you must see how impossible it is that he and I, having +disagreed upon a vital point--it _is_ vital, to my thinking--can live +together. I have a fancy in my head, Martha; I'll tell it to you. To +have a father and not have a father--as is the case with me--is +dreadful. For father and son to disagree is dreadful also. So I shall +imagine a father, and as he is sure to agree with me, we shall be the +best of friends. I shall picture him tender, and good, and kind; +tolerant, yet conscientious; merciful, yet just. I can see him, and I +love him already!" + +Light as his words were, there was a vein of seriousness in his tones +that showed how deeply his feelings had been stirred. + +"When I left the Continent," he continued, "I had a friend with me who +also had been absent from home for years. At intervals during our +journey, he spoke with enthusiasm of home delights and of the +happiness in store for him when he and his family came together. He +showed me letters from them which made me think. We crossed from Paris +to Dover, and there he met his father, who had travelled a hundred +miles to welcome his son the moment he set foot on English soil. They +threw their arms round each other, like boys, and laughed to keep away +the tears. When I came to the railway station here--just half a mile +from where we stand--I looked about me with a dim hope that _my_ +father had come that distance to welcome his son home. But there are +fathers and fathers, Martha. Now, if I had been wise, and had set up +my imaginary father before the train stopped, I should have seen him +waiting for me on the platform; I should have been able to throw my +arms round his neck, to press him to my heart, and to see in his eyes +a kindly welcome; I should have been able to grip his hand, and to +say, 'Bravo, dear old fellow! I love you!' But I was not wise, and to +be forewarned by my fears was not with me to be forearmed. It is not +too late, though--it is never too late. Away, you shadows!" + +He flicked his handkerchief in the air, as if the reality oppressed +him with a phantom presence, and said in a mock-serious tone, in which +earnestness struggled not vainly for a place: + +"Here I raise a father whom I love. I kiss his hand, and vow to pay +him all respect. He shall go with me, and we shall live together." + +There was nothing in the housekeeper's appearance to denote that +freaks of the imagination would find favour in her eyes, and yet +gleams of pleasure--all the more strange because she sought to +suppress them--brought light to her dull white face as Felix with +fantastic grace stooped to kiss the hand of the shadow he had raised. +But these signs faded away as soon as Felix had finished speaking, and +her face resumed its usual dulness of expression. + +"Those persons who have just gone, Felix--had they anything to do with +your quarrel with your father?" + +"I never saw them before," he replied. + +"Had they anything to do with the quarrel with your father?" she +persisted. + +"There's something of the bull-dog in your nature, Martha," he said, +laughing. "You never leave a subject until it is settled." + +"I would not hurt you, Felix," she said, softly. + +"I don't believe you would. Well, yes, they _had_ something to do with +the immediate cause of my leaving--though it would have come to the +same thing without them. We were on the verge of the precipice as they +entered. I must go and see how they are getting along, and if I can be +of any use to them; but I shouldn't wonder if they shrunk from me and +looked upon me as an unclean thing. Are you surprised at all this, +Martha?" + +"No," she replied tranquilly. "This is no house for sunshine. I knew +when you came that you would not be here long." + +"You can do me a service. I shall soon look my last on this place; +will you pack up such things as are mine, and give them to a messenger +I shall send?" + +"Yes; they shall be ready this evening." + +"Then that is all, and the world is before me for me to open. Where is +my oyster-knife?" He felt in his pockets with a comical air. "Ah, it +is here," and he touched his forehead confidently. "So now good-bye, +Martha." + +She did not relinquish the hand he held out to her, but clasped it +firmly in hers. + +"You will let me know where you live, Felix?" + +"O, yes; I will let you know." + +"I have but little money of my own, unfortunately----" + +"Stop, stop, stop!" he cried, with his fingers on her "Enough has been +said, and I must go. Good-bye." + +"Good-bye; I think you do right to leave, Felix." + +"I should be compelled to leave, sooner or later," he replied; "I +could not live without love or sympathy. The cold austerity of this +house is enough to turn heart and face to stone. I pity you, Martha. I +have sometimes wondered how you could have stood it so long." + +"I earn money here, Felix. Your father pays me liberally--for +him--because I suit him; and I am not entirely without love. I have +something to work for, thank God. Good-bye. May every good fortune be +yours!" + + + + + CHAPTER XII. + + POLLYPOD WANTS TO KNOW. + + +When Felix reached the churchyard, the grave was still empty. The +coffin lay upon the earth by its side, and the women of the party were +sitting on convenient tombstones. Of the men, only Alfred remained; +Gribble junior and the old man were absent. + +Gribble junior's baby was sleeping peacefully beneath the umbrella +tent, the gay outside of which had caused the two old men to go for +two other old men, and the girls in dirty pinafores to go for other +girls in dirty pinafores. These new-comers were as interested in the +unusual sight as their friends, and expressed their admiration by +staring persistently in the dullest possible manner. + +Pollypod, wandering about, was in a state of delight and wonderment. +Truly the old churchyard was a world of wonders to the child. To her +young mind there was nothing suggestive of corruption in it. The "Here +lies" and "Here lieths" brought no melancholy thoughts to her, +although she was curious about them. But, when she asked, wanting to +know, her mother bade her "Hush!" as she had done in the coach, and +Pollypod was fain to hold her peace. It was not difficult for her to +let the matter rest for a time, as there were plenty of other things +to occupy her mind. Now and then a butterfly flew by, and she watched +it with delighted eyes till it was out of sight. She found ladybirds +on leaves, and wished that she had a little bottle to take them home +for father. But she could take him some buttercups and daisies, and +she was plucking the prettiest and the most golden when her eyes +lighted on Felix. + +Pollypod was not by any means a bashful child. She had her likes and +dislikes, as all children have, but she had more of the former than of +the latter. And she was fond of society. She had tried to make friends +with the dirty girls who stood staring at the umbrella and the coffin, +and the strange folk, but had not been successful. All her advances +had been received with stupid stares, and not a word could the little +maid extract from the juvenile bumpkins. Then she had tried the old +men; but when she plucked their trousers, they moved away without a +word. She had therefore given up the attempt as hopeless. Now, all at +once, here was a handsome young man, handsomely dressed, and he +immediately became an object of interest to Pollypod. Felix, seeing +the child gaze at him, smiled at her, and Pollypod smiled in return; +and to show that she was prepared to give good interest for +amiability, came and stood by his side, and looked into his face with +frank interest and curiosity. The healthy exercise had brought bright +sparkles into Pollypod's eyes, and a bright colour to her cheeks. +Felix was fond of children, and invariably found favour in their eyes. +At parties where grown-up people and children were, the youngsters +always claimed him as one of themselves, and played and romped with +him without restraint. Children have an instinct for the discovery of +amiable matures in their elders, which is very seldom wrong. + +"Well, little girl," said Felix, by way of commencement. The sight of +the child's artless face did him good, and tended to dispel the +vapours which clouded his mind. + +Pollypod nodded a reply, and arranged the buttercups and daisies in +her hand, without looking at them. Her attention was fixed upon his +smart clothes and bright face, and the flowers in his coat. These +latter had an especial attraction for her. She thought how pleased +father would be if she could take them home to him in the middle of a +bunch of buttercups and daisies. But suddenly, as she looked, her face +became clouded, and she retreated a step or two. + +"What's the matter, little one?" he asked, seating himself upon a +tombstone. "You are not frightened of me, are you?" + +"I don't know," replied Pollypod; and then, with her finger to her +lips, and her head inclined forward, she said solemnly, "Are you the +naughty man?" + +"What naughty man?" he inquired, amused at the child's attitude and +manner. + +"The naughty man who won't bury Lily's mother." + +The cloud on the child's face was reflected on his as he replied, "No, +I am not." + +Pollypod came close to him immediately. + +"I am glad of that; I'm very, very glad of that!" + +"Why, little one?" + +"Because I like you." + +The artlessness of the child pleased and soothed him. It was nature +speaking. + +"If the naughty man was here," continued Pollypod, clenching her +little fist, and stamping her little foot, "I'd beat him for making +Lily cry." + +"Is that Lily?" pointing to the girl. + +"Yes, that's Lily, and that's Lily's brother Alfred, and that's Mrs. +Gribble, and that's my mother, and that's the baby. And that's Lily's +mother in the coffin. Who are you?" + +"My name is Felix." + +Pollypod pondered upon the name, and presently nodded her head two or +three times, to express approval, In proof that she was disposed to +treat him fairly in the matter of information, she said, + +"My name's Pollypod." + +"Polly----" + +"Pod. Father's name is Jim Podmore, and I'm his little Pollypod." + +Thereupon--confidential and affectionate relations being completely +established--she sat down on the tombstone beside him. She put him at +once upon on equality with her by asking, in the most serious manner, + +"Do you like butter?" + +And gravely held a buttercup beneath his chin, he laughingly +submitting to the test. The golden reflection of the flower being seen +on his chin, she declared that he _did_ like butter, and the +triumphant tone in which she announced the discovery evidently +enhanced his value in her eyes. Then she asked, Did she? and held up +her face for the test, which Felix applied with becoming seriousness. +The answer being satisfactory, they became more confidentially +familiar. + +"This is a churchyard," said the little maid. + +"Yes." + +"Where people are buried." + +"Yes." + +"Lily's mother is going to be buried here." + +"Yes." + +"I want to know if Lily's mother is shut up in a box, how can she be +up there?" + +Felix, seeing that he was in danger of being entangled in a +theological disputation with an opponent who thirsted for facts, +answered simply, + +"God lives there, and when we die we go to Him." + +"Mother has told me so often and often, but I want to understand." + +"Inquisitive little maid!" exclaimed Felix. "Is not that a beautiful +place?" pointing upwards. + +"It _is_ pretty--and bright; that cloud looks like blue-and-white +feathers. Mother says we'll go to heaven if we're good. And that's +heaven. I'm going to be very good. But I want to know! How can we be +here and there at the same time?" + +Felix felt that it was a hard question to answer, and he despaired of +making it clear to so young an understanding. + +"See now," he said, with an attempt at simplicity; "you are a little +girl. By-and-by you will become a woman; then you will grow older and +older, and your hair will turn white, and you will be an old woman. +When we are old, we die." + +"_Must_ we die--all of us?" + +"All of us, little one. But God gives us a soul which is always young; +it never grows old, and when our bodies are worn out, our souls go +back to God and heaven." + +"I give my soul to God to keep," murmured Pollypod, repeating a line +which she said in her prayers every night. She did not understand, but +she had faith in Felix. She murmured the words so softly that Felix +did not hear them. + +"So that our body is here, and our soul is there, little maid. Earth +takes care of one, and heaven takes care of the other." + +"I suppose it is right," said Pollypod, with her hands clasped +in her lap, where the flowers had fallen loose. She looked into his +face as she spoke. + +"Yes, little one, it is right." + +"And Lily's mother _is_ there, although I can't see her." + +She gazed earnestly, at the clouds for a few moments before she spoke +again. "I want to know!" she then said. "Everybody who dies is not +old." + +"Some die young. God wants them." + +"I hope God won't want me till I'm old, for I want to grow up to be a +woman----" + +"And then, little maid?" + +"And then you shall marry me," said Pollypod, coming down to earth, +and placing her hand in that of her companion. "I'll be your little +wife." + +"That's a bargain," said Felix merrily; "we're sweethearts from now." + +"You ought to kiss me," said the forward little maid; and after being +kissed, she fell to bunching her buttercups and daisies together. + +"And now tell me, Pollypod," said Felix, anxious to learn something of +Lily and the old man. "Where do you all come from?" + +"O, along, long, long way! It was such a nice ride!" + +"Then you live a long way from here?" + +"O, yes, we live in London, in Soho." + +"That is a long-way indeed, Pollypod. Are you Lily's cousin?" + +"O, no; we're none of us relations, not even the baby! But we all live +together. Lily lives on the first floor; baby and Mr. and Mrs. Gribble +live on the second floor--they're umbrella makers; father and mother +and me live on the third floor." + +"That's very high up, Pollypod!" + +"I like it because of that; there's such a lot of light! It's nearer +the sky, father says. Father's a railway man, and comes home so late! +But we play in bed every morning. And we've got a dog; Snap's his +name. He goes out to work every morning with father, and comes back at +night. We have such fun together! We've got such a nice room." + +"Only one, Pollypod?" + +"Yes; we don't want more, do we?" inquired the little maid. "There's +such pretty paper on the walls. Roses--_such_ red ones! Father's fond +of flowers, that's why. I like to look at them before I go to sleep; +sometimes I see pretty faces in them, like Lily's. I dream of +everything. I shall dream of you to-night, and shall look for your +face among the roses. I'm making a bunch of buttercups and daisies for +father, but they're all one colour"--with a wistful look at the +flowers in her companion's coat. + +Felix saw the wish in the look, and taking the flowers from his coat, +gave them to Pollypod. + +"If you put these in the bunch," he said, "there will be more than one +colour." + +Pollypod held up her face to be kissed again, and nestled closer to +him. + +"I knew you were good," she said. + +When she had arranged the flowers, Felix found a piece of string in +his pocket, and tied them together for her. The party near the coffin +were in the same position as they had been when he came into the +churchyard; the old man and Gribble junior had not returned. Having +nothing better to do, and burning with a desire to know more of the +fair girl whose acquaintance he had made in so strange a manner, Felix +resumed his conversation with little Pollypod. He had no difficulty in +doing so; Pollypod was brimful of talk. + +"So you dream of everything," he said. + +Pollypod nodded, repeated "E-ve-ry-thing" under her breath, and held +up her bunch of flowers admiringly, turning them this way and that, +and thinking how pleased father would be with them. + +"What did you dream of last night?" + +"I don't remember," replied Pollypod, after a little consideration. "I +know what I dreamt of the night before." + +"Of what?" + +"Of my Doll," said the little maid, showing by her manner that the +subject was of very serious importance. "And, O, it looked so +beautiful! It had large blue eyes--and moved them!--and a pink face, +and red lips, and it was dressed in blue silk, with such a lovely +bonnet!" + +"Was it as pretty as your own doll?" inquired Felix. + +Pollypod shook her head a dozen times, and pursed her lips. "I haven't +got one," she said wistfully, "I never saw it; I only dream of it." + +Felix did not say anything in the pause that followed, knowing that he +was about to be enlightened. + +"It's in father's ship. Father told me, O, such a long time ago! that +when his ship came home, he would give me the Doll; and the naughty +ship won't come home. Father is so angry sometimes because it's so +long away. There's a toy-shop not far from where we live, with such +funny things in the window--and there's a Doll in the middle of them, +just like mine that's in father's ship. Father says mine is handsomer, +and that mine has a smaller nose and pinker lips. I go to look at it +whenever I can, and wish, and wish, and wish that father's ship would +come home! I often dream that it has, and when I wake up I say, +'Father, has your ship come home?' and he says, 'No, Pollypod;' and I +know by his voice that he's sorry." + +"Now, Pollypod," said Felix, holding up his finger to denote that she +was to give him all her attention, "I'm going to tell you something. +I'm a wizard." + +"A wiz-ard," repeated Pollypod thoughtfully; and then said, with a +sharp look at Felix, "I want to know!" + +"What a wizard is! So you shall, little one. A wizard can see things, +and tell things before they occur." + +"Can he!" exclaimed Pollypod, her blue eyes dilating. "Can you see and +tell anything now?" + +"Yes." + +"What?" + +"I can see a little girl lying in bed, looking at the roses on the +wall." + +"That's me," said Pollypod, in a tone of infinite content. "Who's in +the room with the little girl? Not father!" + +"No; not father, because father comes home so late." + +"And the little girl is asleep before he comes home." + +"Fast asleep, Pollypod. But there's some one else in the room--mother +is there, working." + +"That's right! that's right!" cried Pollypod, twining her fingers +together in her excitement. "You _are_ a wizard!" + +"The little girl is lying with her eyes open, looking at the roses. +She fixes her eyes upon one, and it changes. Lips come--like Lily's; +eyes come, bright--like Lily's. Presently Lily's face is in the rose, +smiling at the little girl. But the face fades----" + +"Does it?" whispered Pollypod anxiously. + +"And in its place a Doll appears----" + +"Yes! yes!" + +"And the little girl falls asleep and dreams of it, and holds it in +her arms. And while she dreams, I see a ship coming over the seas----" + +"Father's ship!" cried Pollypod in ecstacy. + +"No; another ship." + +"O!" sighed Pollypod, drooping. + +"Here it comes sailing--sailing--sailing; and the waves are +curling--curling--curling; and the captain is bowing--bowing--bowing; +and the stars are shining--shining--shining into the waters, lighting +them up with smiles! But what is this I see on the ship? A Doll!" + +"Doll!" cried Pollypod, reviving. "For the little girl?" + +"Yes, for the little girl. The little girl's Doll! Pollypod's Doll! +And as sure as we sit here talking, the captain, if he's alive, will +bring it home before the week's out." + +In a very flutter of delight Pollypod jumped to her feet, and clasped +her hands. + +"You mustn't be frightened of me, Pollypod," said Felix, sharing in +Pollypod's delight; "I'm a good wizard." + +"I know that! I know that!" said the little maid, almost in a whisper. +"But I want to know! Is She beautiful?" + +"Yes, she is beautiful," replied Felix, dwelling long on each +syllable. + +"And has she got blue eyes?" + +"The bluest in the world." + +"And a pink face?" + +"As pink as this rose, Pollypod." + +"And red lips?" + +"Red as cherries." + +"And what is She dressed in?" + +"Blue silk, with a large sash behind, and mauve boots, and the +loveliest bonnet that ever was made." + +So filled with joy that she could not speak, Pollypod sat down on the +tombstone, shut her eyes, and saw Her in all Her silken glory. The +little maid was in a state of beatific bliss; and she saw the ship +sailing, and the waves curling, and the captain bowing, and the stars +shining, and the beautiful Doll eclipsing them all. + +Presently she opened her eyes, and said reflectively, + +"I hope Snap will like her. You're sure he'll come?" + +"The captain? As sure as can be. Mother's calling you." + +Away raced Pollypod, the happiest little girl in all England, towards +her mother; and Felix strolled out of the churchyard with the idea of +ascertaining why the old man and Gribble junior were so long absent. + +He was arrested in his purpose by an incident that claimed his +attention. + +Near to the entrance to the churchyard was the mourning-coach which +had conveyed the party from Soho, and near to the mourning-coach was +the driver, in a condition bordering closely on intoxication. Whether +it is that sorrow requires inward moistening, or that there is some +other equally strong cause to account for it, every churchyard has +in its immediate neighbourhood a handy public-house, or two, or +three--according to whether the churchyard does a flourishing business +or otherwise. There is nothing strange in the circumstance; for +public-houses are everywhere, and churchyards should no more be +deprived of the consolation their presence affords than other places. +No sooner had our driver got rid of his load of flesh and clay than he +sought the handy ale-house, to bait his cattle and moisten his sorrow. +The former task was quickly accomplished, but the latter occupied a +much longer time--a proof that his sorrow was very keen, and needed a +great deal of moistening. When Felix approached him, he had paid at +least half a dozen visits to the ale-house, and his sorrow had turned +into anger at the time he had been kept waiting. His face, which had +grown puffy in the exercise of his profession, was inflamed, and he +was muttering to himself that he would see the whole party in a very +warm place before he would wait for them a minute longer. The +assertion was not only irreverent, with a churchyard in view, but (as +he would have to be there to see) it was injudicious as regarded his +own fate after he had shuffled off his mortal coil. + +Felix saw the state at once, and saw also that the driver was not in a +fit condition to drive the party home. A very few words with the man +convinced him of this. He was quick at expedients, and eagerly took +advantage of the opportunity that presented itself. + +"My guv'ner," said the driver, in a thick voice, and with occasional +hiccoughs, "didn't bargain that I was to stop here till I got blue in +the face." + +Which (supposing that the contract had been entered into between him +and his "guv'ner") was so manifestly impossible of accomplishment in +sight of his inflamed countenance, that Felix could not help smiling. + +"And _in_ consequence," continued the driver, with sarcastic emphasis, +"as it wasn't in the bargain, and as the job's paid for beforehand, +and as I've got my family to look arter, you can tell the party +inside, as you're a friend of their'n, that I'm off." + +With that he gathered up the reins, and prepared to mount. His foot +was in the air when Felix invited him to "Come and have a pint." + +The invitation was not to be resisted, and they adjourned to the +ale-house, where, over the pint, Felix learnt the name of the street +and the number of the house in which Lily lived. His purpose being +served, he allowed the man to depart, and, with some satisfaction, saw +the mourning-coach on its way to London. + +"There would have been an accident for certain," said Felix to +himself, as if in apology for allowing the man to depart, "and it will +be better for them to have a sober driver than a drunken one. Besides, +I myself must sleep in London to-night." + +Then he went to an hotel of a better kind, where he was known, and +made arrangements for the hire of a waggonette and a pair of good +horses, and ascertained where he could stable them for the night in +London. + +"Harness the horses," he said, "at once, and let them stand at the +entrance of the churchyard: I shall return in the morning. I wonder," +he mused, as he walked towards the churchyard again, "whether they +will refuse to accept a courtesy from my father's son." + + + + + CHAPTER XIII. + + THE WINNER OF THE NORTHUMBERLAND PLATE. + + +"Though the prayers of a priest are denied to you, not less sanctified +is the ground in which you lie. Tender thoughts and tender remembrance +accompany you, and these are the best of prayers. It is better as it +is, perhaps; better that your dust should be buried thus in silence; +than that the cold words of a harsh sorrowless minister should fall +upon your grave. Peace be with you!" + +These words were spoken inly by Lily's grandfather, as he stood, with +head uncovered, by the side of the grave into which the coffin was +being lowered. He and Gribble junior had been in search of a Methodist +minister, in the vague hope that something might be suggested to +afford consolation to the dead woman's children; but their search had +been unsuccessful, and as the day was waning and they had far to go, +they had no alternative but to comply with the Reverend Mr. +Creamwell's decree. As they stood about the grave, the men were silent +and sad; tears were streaming down the faces of the women; and +Pollypod for a few moments forgot her Doll and the ship that was +bringing it home over the seas. The heir of the house of Gribble +junior was awake and in his father's arms, and the enthusiastic +umbrella-doctor tilted the baby over the grave, so that the child +might have a good view of the coffin, in the belief probably that it +would "open up his ideas, as a body might say." Notwithstanding the +minister's decree, Lily's mother was not buried: in complete silence; +for the twittering of birds and the soft hum of insect-life were +heard, and the breeze was as peaceful, and the clouds as bright, as if +a thousand human voices had been raised in her glorification. The old +man picked up a handful of dust, and scattered it lightly upon the +coffin, and then the earth was shovelled in and the grave was filled. +Slowly they walked out of the churchyard, Pollypod in a state of +restlessness about Felix, and wondering what had become of him. When +she caught sight of him, standing by the waggonette he had hired, she +ran eagerly to him, and plucked his coat. He inclined his head to +hers. + +"The Captain's sure to bring my Doll this week?" she whispered. + +"Quite sure, little maid," he answered. + +"Do you see the ship now?" + +"Yes," he said, "and the wind is fair." + +But when he raised his eyes, and saw a shadow on the old man's face, +he was not so certain that the wind was fair. He had a task to +perform, however, and he addressed himself to Gribble junior, and +telling him that the mourning-coach was gone, delivered the driver's +message, in milder terms than he had received it. The old man, +listening, glanced sharply at Felix. + +"I think it is as well," pursued Felix, addressing the company +generally, though he looked only at Gribble junior, "that the man +_has_ gone, for he was drunk, and in no fit condition to drive you +home." + +"Then how are we to get back?" inquired Gribble junior in perplexity, +more of himself than of Felix. + +"I feel that I am in some measure responsible for the difficulty," +rejoined Felix, "for I might have detained the man, though, as I have +said, the wisest course was to let him go. Will you allow me to place +this waggonette at your disposal? It will be pleasanter driving than +in the close coach, and you will reach home more quickly." All but the +old man looked up gratefully at the proposal. "The evening will be +fine, and I will ensure a safe and speedy journey. Nay," he continued +hurriedly, in answer to a motion of the old man's hand indicating +refusal, "before you decide, grant me the favour of one minute's +private conversation." + +There was much in the voice and manner of Felix to recommend him, and +the old man saw that he had found favour in the eyes of the rest of +the company. He himself also, against his own judgment as it seemed, +felt inclined to the young man. This feeling, no less than his +perplexity, induced him to comply with the request, and they stepped +aside, out of hearing of the others. + +"Sir," then said Felix, "the offer is made out of pure +disinterestedness, believe me." + +He blushed slightly as he said this, for he thought of Lily, and of +the share she unconsciously bore in the transaction. + +"It is somewhat incomprehensible," said the old man, gazing +attentively at the earnest face of Felix; "I cannot be mistaken. You +are the young gentleman who was present during my interview with the +minister." + +"I am he, sir," replied Felix, "but----" + +"And you are his son," interrupted the old man. + +"There is no doubt of that. I am my father's son--in the flesh. For +the share I took in that interview by my presence, I humbly ask your +pardon. Do me the justice to believe that I am in earnest." + +"It would be hard to believe otherwise." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"Yet it is difficult to reconcile." As he spoke he thought of the +young man's kindness to Lily, and it seemed to be not so difficult. +But if the kind offer sprang from sincere and unselfish impulse, +father and son must be at variance. "Your father----" he said. + +But Felix broke in abruptly with, "Nay, sir, pardon me. Do not let us +speak of fathers and sons. The subject is a painful one. My father and +I differ upon certain points. I am under suspicion, I know; I should +be surprised were it otherwise. But come, sir, your own sense of +justice will grant me this. Let me be judged, not by you alone, but by +those who accompany you. If they decide against me, I will drive to +London alone, with only my thoughts for company. If they decide for +me, I will resign my whip, or drive you home, as you determine." + +By this speech Felix proved himself to be a master of generous +cunning. He knew that he had a true friend in little Pollypod, who +necessarily carried her mother's vote, and he hoped also that Lily and +her brother were on his side. But he did not know that when he said, +"Do not let us speak of fathers and sons; the subject is a painful +one," he had unconsciously uttered words which served him in good turn +with the old man also. Thought of Alfred's father, who had brought +shame on all of them, came to the old man's mind as he heard the +words. He walked to where the others were standing, and found Pollypod +in a state of feverish delight at the prospect of being driven home in +such a beautiful carriage. Mrs. Podmore, of course, was equally +pleased, because of the treat in store for her child, and because she +fell in love immediately with any one who was kind to Polly. Gribble +junior spoke in enthusiastic terms of the handsome offer; and Alfred, +quivering with eager anxiety to know whether Christopher Sly had won +the Northumberland Plate, fretted at every moment's delay that kept +him from the London streets, where the evening's newspapers would tell +him the news. Lily was silent, but the old Man saw in her eyes that +she wished him to accept the offer. This at once decided him, and he +waived all personal feeling in the matter. He returned to Felix, and +said, + +"They all decide for you. I am the only one against you." + +The young man's face flushed with delight. + +"You will not be always against me, sir. Shall I resign my whip?" + +"I doubt if any one is competent to take it. And after all, it would +be but a churlish way of accepting your courtesy. No; the obligation +shall be complete, if it is not trespassing too much upon your time." + +"I am alone in the world, sir. My time is my own." + +He turned his face towards his father's house, and gazed at it for a +few moments, not with regret, but with a grave consciousness that this +was a serious epoch in his life. Martha the housekeeper was sitting at +one of the upper windows, evidently watching him. He waved his hand to +her, and walked slowly to the waggonette, where Gribble junior was +busy arranging the party. + +"Will you let me sit next to you?" asked Pollypod of Felix. + +"I am going to drive, little one," replied Felix, "and you might fall +off." + +"I'll take her in my lap," said Gribble junior, and by this offer +secured the place of distinction on the box. + +So it was arranged, and in a few moments they were all seated, and on +their way to London. As Gribble junior declared afterwards, it was the +pleasantest ride that he had ever had in his life, notwithstanding the +solemnity of the occasion. He and Pollypod and Felix chatted together +in the pleasantest manner, but in a subdued tone, so as not to intrude +upon the grief of the mourners in the waggonette. Pollypod told all +about the ship that was bringing home her Doll; and Gribble junior, +understanding in a literal manner the kindness of Felix, entered +readily into Pollypod's enthusiasm, and looked upon that young +gentleman as a model of generosity. Gribble junior himself was not +disposed to be silent. He was fond of expatiating upon his +establishment and business, and he seized the opportunity of airing +himself and his views after his own harmless fashion. + +"Why hospital?" he repeated, in reply to a query from Felix. "Well, in +the first place, it's curious, and curiosity is a good advertisement. +It brings business. You see, what you've got to do nowadays if you +want to get along is to strike out. That's what I'm always telling +father. Strike out, I say; but he hasn't got it in him. All he does is +to shake his head and put his hands in his pockets. As if a man can +get along that way! When that youngster's knickerbockered," with a +backward notion of his head toward his baby, lying in his wife's lap, +"I've made up my mind that his clothes sha'n't have any handy pockets +in them where he can hide his hands. It breeds idleness. I've seen +lots of fellows who think when they've got their hands in their +pockets that they're following an occupation. I believe it _is_ a real +business with a good many. That's a good advertisement, isn't it?" he +asked, opening his blue-silk umbrella, with its yellow announcement +painted on it, and gazing on it in pride. + +Felix nodded, amused, and remarked that it must puzzle a good many +persons. + +"I dare say but then they've got no brains," said Gribble junior. "If +they'd only consider a little, they'd soon find out the sense of it; +but more than half the people in the world are fools. An umbrella has +ribs and bones and a frame and skin, like a human being; and they +break their bones and get bent and out of order, like human beings. I +call myself the surgeon; I set the limbs and ribs, and put the frame +in order. My wife is great in skin complaints. She patches up and +mends the alpaca and silk." + +In this manner he chatted on, and Felix for the most part listened in +amused silence. Before they were a great way on their road home, they +overtook the mourning coach which had conveyed them from Soho. The +driver was in a state of perfect happiness, and his countenance was +more inflamed than ever; but he evidently resented the circumstance of +their driving home in such a smart carriage, for as Felix drove +briskly past him, he whipped his horses and tried to overtake the +party. But his cattle knew their business, and had been too well +brought up to do more than amble; all the whipping in the world would +not have made them gallop. + +Felix had placed refreshments in the waggonette, of which they all +partook, even Lily and the old man. The sincerity and honesty of their +driver were so apparent, that they could not regard him with any but +grateful feelings. It was past sunset when they entered the London +streets. + +"This is my world," Felix thought exultantly. + +The brilliant lights and the thousands of people hurrying hither and +thither quickened his pulses. It seemed to him as if he were born into +a new life. Unfettered, free to do as he pleased, and blessed with +that great blessing, a grateful nature, he gathered from everything +about him hope for the future. He saw no shadows; did not dream of +them. He turned to look at Lily. Her head was resting upon the old +man's breast; she was asleep, and there was peace in her face. The old +man smiled gratefully and thoughtfully upon Felix, and the smile made +him glad. How could shadows come? Everything was fair for him. He felt +a soft touch upon the hand which was not occupied with the reins; it +was Pollypod's hand stealing into his. Another good omen. The little +maid was very sleepy, but she was filled with joy; this had been the +most eventful day in her young life. In a very little while they were +winding through the labyrinth of the narrow streets of Soho. + +"I am so sorry," said Pollypod. + +"Why, little one?" + +"We are just home. This is our street. And I should like to keep +riding all night." + +"Stupid little Pollypod! Why, you are so sleepy and tired now that you +can't keep your eyes open." + +"That would make it nice. I should like to sleep and wake up, and keep +on riding and riding!" + +Felix smiled; he, like the child, regretted that they had come to the +end of their journey. The rattle of the smart waggonette brought all +the neighbours to the doors and windows again, and Felix was +scrutinised and discussed in a manner that ought to have made his ears +tingle, if he had any respect for old-fashioned proverbs. + +"I can but repeat my thanks," said the old man to Felix, as they stood +by the street door. "You have laid us under a deep obligation." + +"I hope not," replied Felix; "indeed I believe not. I have a theory of +my own that every human act is dictated by a feeling of selfishness. +What I have done, I have done to please myself." + +The old man shook his head. + +"You believe better of human nature than your theory would lead one to +suppose. Of that I am certain.--Will you step upstairs?" + +"No, I thank you," said Felix, after a moment's hesitation, during +which he decided that the presence of a stranger was not desirable +after the day's fatigue; "but if you will allow me, I will call in a +day or two to pay my respects." + +The old man expressed acquiescence, and looked round for Alfred; but +the young man was gone. He had slipped away to obtain an evening +paper, in which he would learn whether Christopher Sly had won or +lost the Northumberland Plate. Instead of Alfred, the old man saw Mr. +David Sheldrake, who, happening to pass through the street, paused +when he saw the group at Mr. Gribble's door. Mr. Sheldrake raised his +hat. + +"I heard of your loss," he said to Lily, in a tone of confidential +respect, "and I beg you to accept my sincere sympathy. The White Rose +is quite disconsolate at your absence. I hope it will not be long +before we hear your charming voice again. This is your grandfather. +Allow me to present myself: Mr. David Sheldrake. I know your grandson, +sir, Master Alfred; a fine young fellow, sir. We all grieve, for your +granddaughter's sake, at the loss you have sustained." + +The old man bowed, but did not reply, and Mr. Sheldrake, raising his +hat again, passed on. Although he had not seemed to notice Felix, he +had really, in a quiet manner, observed Felix closely, and had taken +note of the handsome waggonette. + +"Who is this interloper?" he thought, as he walked away; "but Master +Alfred will tell me. Where is he, I wonder?" He pondered for a few +seconds, and his countenance brightened as he thought, "Ah, they have +just come from the funeral; the woman was to be buried in the country, +I heard. And Master Alfred has disappeared to look after Christopher +Sly. You're a sharp one, David; never at a loss." + +With which self-paid compliment he turned the corner, smiling. + +"Then we will wish you good-night," said the old man to Felix. + +"Good-night," said Felix, shaking hands with the old man. Lily held +out her hand, and gave him a grateful look, which, supposing any +payment were required, paid him a hundred times over for the little +service he had rendered them. When Lily and her grandfather had passed +indoors, Felix would have departed, but his left hand was in +Pollypod's, and she held it tight. + +"Good-night, Pollypod. I must go now." + +"No; you mustn't go yet," said the forward little maid; "I want you to +carry me upstairs." + +"Don't tease the gentleman, Polly!" exclaimed Mrs. Podmore; "you +mustn't be tiresome." + +"She isn't tiresome," said Felix good-naturedly, taking Pollypod in +his arms; "I'll carry her up-stairs if you'll allow me." + +Certainly if ever man had the knack of winning a mother's heart, Felix +had it; and if he could have read Mrs. Podmore's thoughts as he +stepped into the passage with her child in his arms, he would have +found himself there enshrined as the very pink and perfection and +pattern of goodness. + +"Go up slow," whispered Pollypod to him, as she lay with her head on +his shoulder; the cunning little maid was in a delicious trance, and +was wishful not to wake up too soon; "isn't it nice and dark? Can you +see the Ship?" + +"Yes." + +"And the Captain?" + +"Yes." + +"And the Doll _is_ there?" + +"I can see it, Pollypod." + +"And the stars are shining?" + +"Beautifully, Pollypod." + +"Yes," she murmured, "it is night, and the stars are shining." + +The roses on the wall of Mrs. Podmore's room were red enough to assert +themselves even in the dim light, and Felix thought that Pollypod's +idealisation of them was one of the prettiest of pretty fancies. + +"I'm sure we're all very much obliged to you, sir," said Mrs. Podmore +to him as he placed the child on the bed. + +"You could not be more welcome to anything," replied Felix. "Good +night, little maid." + +He stooped to kiss her, and she encircled his neck with her arms. + +"There's a kiss for the Ship," she whispered, "and a kiss for the +Captain, and two for You! I shall tell Snap about you when father +comes home." + +Gribble junior was waiting on the landing of the second floor to wish +him good night. + +"Did you see that gent that stopped and spoke to Miss Lily?" asked +Gribble junior. + +"Yes." + +"What do you think of him?" + +Felix smilingly replied that it was impossible for him to form an +opinion. + +"I don't think much of him myself," said Gribble junior dryly; "he +ain't one of my sort." + +"Tell me," said Felix, "if it is not rude to ask, what did he mean by +saying that the White Rose was quite disconsolate at Miss Lily's +absence? What is the White Rose?" + +"Don't you know the Royal White Rose Music-hall?" interrogated Gribble +junior, wondering at the young man's ignorance. "That's where Miss +Lily sings. You should see her and hear her! She looks like an angel, +and sings like one. She's not like any of the others. You see, a girl +must do something, and between you and me, I don't think the old +gentleman would be able to get along if it wasn't for the money that +Miss Lily earns. Master Alfred, he doesn't do much." + +About an hour afterwards, Felix found himself in the Royal White Rose +Music-hall, wondering that so pure and simple a girl as Lily should be +associated with some of the things he heard and witnessed there. +"But," he thought, "to the pure all things are pure. And there are +stranger contrasts in life than this." + +He had engaged a bed at an hotel where a night porter was kept, so +that he could get to his room at any time. He stopped out until late, +thinking over the events of the day, and musing upon the future. He +strolled over Westminster Bridge, and lingered in admiration; +thinking, and thinking truly, that he had never seen a more wonderful +and beautiful sight than the dark solemn water and the waving lines of +lights presented. And as he lingered and admired and mused, his +thoughts wandered to the little crowded house in Soho---- + +Where Lily was sleeping peacefully; + +Where Pollypod, pressed to her father's breast, and with her face +towards the roses, was dreaming of her Doll and of the Ship that was +sailing over the shining seas; + +Where, in the solitude of his room, a young man, with wild, haggard, +despairing face, was reading for the twentieth time the account of the +race for the Northumberland Plate, which had been won by an old horse +called Taraban; and muttering, with white and trembling lips, +imprecations on the false prophets by whose advice he had backed +Christopher Sly with money that did not belong to him. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV. + + TRAPS FOR GULLS--HOW SPIDERS CATCH THE FLIES. + + +At the corner of a desponding thoroughfare in the neighbourhood of +Vauxhall is a chemist's shop, where every cure for every ailment is +dispensed. The thoroughfare is one of a numerous family of streets so +exactly alike in their melancholy aspect, that you can scarcely tell +one from another; they are all very sad-looking, and they are all +composed of rows of private houses, two stories high, exactly of a +height, and of a dismal flatness, which look dejectedly at one another +across the road. The name of Dr. Cadbury is over the door of the +chemist's shop, and a neat inscription on a brass plate informs the +public that the doctor may be consulted (gratis) at from 11 till 1 +o'clock in the morning, and from 6 till 8 in the evening. It is a +queer-looking shop and wonderfully comprehensive, notwithstanding that +it is much cramped. The consultation-room is a small apartment at the +back of the shop, and, viewed from the outside, has quite a +pretentious appearance. The word "Surgery" over the door is suggestive +of dreadful instruments of bright steel, which shine with a savage +desire to cut into you; but there is really nothing to be alarmed at +in the apartment, the most noticeable article in it being a turn-up +bedstead; for at night it is converted into a sleeping apartment for +the doctor's assistant. This assistant, who has a passion for too much +bitter beer, and who tells the customers under the pledge of secrecy +that he is a partner in the concern, is a moon-faced, bald-headed man, +who has walked the hospitals, as the women whisper to one another. He +is mysteriously spoken of as being very highly connected, and he +continually talks of going down somewhere for a week's shooting; but +he never goes. His present lowly position is popularly supposed to be +due to his having been a little wild, and it is rumoured that he is in +hiding, which immensely enhances his reputation. The queer little shop +has quite a bustling appearance during the hours of consultation; but +very different pictures are presented in the morning and evening. In +the morning it is the males, who, chiefly in their dinner-hour, throng +to the doctor for his advice; but the evening is sacred to the wives. +As the consultation hour draws nigh, all the poor women in the +neighbourhood who are in an interesting condition gather together +until the little shop is crowded with them. They wait to consult the +"dear doctor"--he is such a dear man! they say to one another; and +while they wait they relate their experiences, and exchange +pleasantries with the moon-faced assistant. The doctor's fee for +confinements is only a guinea, attendance and medicine included, and +this guinea he sometimes takes in instalments, and sometimes does not +take at all--which is not his fault, but his misfortune. It is quite a +relaxation to the poor women to assemble together on these occasions; +and when they come away from their consultation, they have none but +words of praise for Dr. Cadbury, who is such a pleasant man, and has +told them such funny stories, that they declare they would send for +him--ah, that they would!--in the dead of night, if they lived ever so +far away. For which marks of favour Dr. Cadbury could not be, and +certainly was not, sufficiently grateful. + +The doctor occupies only the ground-floor. Who occupies the upper +portion of the house? Let us step up and see. The first-floor will be +sufficient for our purpose. + +It is the day after the running for the Northumberland Plate, and a +man about thirty-five years of age has just laid down a paper where he +has read, not for the first time, how that the morning opened +unfavourably at Newcastle, the rain pouring steadily down, and how the +sporting fraternity grew despondent in consequence; how deserted the +Newcastle streets were, when upon every previous Plate-day they had +been crowded with betting men; how the weather took a better turn +about noon, and hope revived in the ardent breasts of the men who laid +the odds and the dupes who took them; how the special trains from +Northumberland and Durham began to arrive with eager excursionists, +and matters began to look brighter; how all considerations of the +weather, and every other consideration whatsoever, paled to +insignificance before the news that a noble sportsman had insisted +that Christopher Sly, the sensational animal of the day, who had been +backed for pounds, shillings, and pence, should carry a ten pound +penalty for winning another race a short time since; how the question +was discussed and what excitement it caused, those who had backed the +horse trembling in their shoes lest they should be "done" out of their +soon-to-be winnings at the last moment; how the stewards were unable +to decide the point before the race, and how the horse declined in the +betting from 6 to 4 to 2 to 1, still being first favourite however; +how eight runners came to the starting-post, Christopher Sly being one +and looking as fresh as paint; how, after two or three false starts, +the horses were fairly slipped; how, soon afterwards, Christopher Sly +threw his jockey clean over his head, and then tumbled down and rolled +over the lad, who was carried off the field in an insensible state; +and how, after some other slight mishaps, an old horse, Taraban by +name, came in the winner, to the discomfiture of more persons than +one, and to the utter confusion, and if they have any shame in them +(which may be reasonably doubted), of every prophet and tipster in the +United Kingdom. All this and more the occupant of the room reads with +exceeding relish, slapping his thigh and rubbing his knees in delight, +as if it is the finest joke he had ever heard of. + +"Not one of 'm thought of Taraban," he exclaims; "not one. What a sell +for the talent!" + +He says this in a tone which implies that the "talent," whatever that +may be, is his natural enemy, and he rejoices in its discomfiture. The +furnishings of the room in which he sits are very simple--a deal +table, three or four chairs, and a safe. But that it is a room in +which serious work is performed is evident from the appearance of the +table, upon which are pens and ink, piles of letters, half a dozen +different descriptions of circulars, some account-books, and cuttings +from newspapers. From the addresses on the letters, the firm which he +represents must be an extensive one, comprising many partners. Here is +one pile addressed to Adolphus Fortescue, Post-office, Rugby; here is +another addressed to Horace St. John, 43, Diddledom-place, W.C.; here +is another addressed to James Middleman, Box 67, Post-office, +Leicester; here is another addressed to W. and B. Tracey, 87 1/2, +Essex-road, E.C.; and others to other names and other addresses, all +of which he has opened with his own hand, as if he were one and all of +these persons combined. Perhaps he is; he looks confident enough and +shrewd enough to be a score of men in one. Perhaps his own proper +name, which any detective would be able to tell you without going to +the bottom of a well to seek for it, is too common a one for his +profession; and if the success of that profession depended on the +catching of gudgeons, the presumption is that many an unwary one which +would have turned up its nose at plain Smith or Robinson would for a +certainty fall into the spicy trap labelled Adolphus Fortescue or +Horace St. John. But, unexplained, it is a very riddle to the simple +and uninitiated. Riddle me riddle me ree, tell me who this man can be? +Perhaps some of the documents on the table will supply a clue to the +seeming mystery. Here is an advertisement cut out of a sporting +newspaper. What does it say? + +"An Absolute Moral for the Doncaster St. Leger. Horace St. John is in +possession of certain important information concerning this race, +which he is willing to impart to Gentlemen and to no others. The Horse +that will Win is a dark horse, and has been reserved especially for +the Leger. No one else is in the secret, except the Stable, and they +have kept it dark, and intend to back it for every shilling they can +raise. Not one of the favourites has a chance. Horace St. John is no +vulgar tipster, but a Gentleman moving in the very Highest Circles, +and his honour is unimpeachable. A TERRIFIC Sum will be won upon this +Moral Certainty, which will absolutely WALK IN. But remember--only to +Gentlemen will this secret be imparted, and only upon the +understanding that it will not be imparted to outsiders. At present, +100 to 1 can be obtained. This is the greatest certainty in the annals +of racing. Send immediately 5_s_. worth of postage-stamps and your +Word of Honour that, after the race, you will remit five per cent of +your winnings to Horace St. John, 43, Diddledom-place, W.C., and the +name of the horse with all particulars will be forwarded by return +post. Subscribers, remember the enormous sums you won over H. St. J.'s +tip for the Derby--remember his earnest words, 'The Zephyr Colt and no +other'--and send at once, before the bookmakers take the alarm. To +those who wish H. St. J. to undertake their commissions for them, 100 +to 1 will be obtained." + +Here is another advertisement, in which James Middleman, Box 67, +Post-office, Leicester, vindictively advises you (impressing it upon +you after the manner of Macbeth's Witches) to-- + +"Break the Ring! Break the Ring! Break the Ring! If you want to know +the Winner of the Chester Cup, send six stamps and a stamped directed +envelope for the greatest certainty on the face of the earth. Break +the Ring! Now or never! Now's the day, and Now's the hour! Faint +hearts never won great fortunes yet. Trust not to stable-boys and +specious impostors, but send six stamps and a stamped directed +envelope immediately to James Middleman, and reach the height of your +cupidity! (_sic_.) The horse could win with three stones more on his +back. The greatest _coup_ on record. Now or never! James Middleman, +Box 67, Post-office, Leicester." + +Here is an advertisement from W. and B. Tracey, who "implore you not +to throw away your money upon ignorant tipsters, whose worthless +selections will bring you to ruin. Send a stamped envelope for our +system--our infallible system--by which loss is rendered an +impossibility. £10,000 is waiting for you this season. With a capital +of £5, a fortune is certain. Be wise in time." + +Here is another, addressed, + +"To gentlemen of honour.--A Turfite of high position (recent owner of +race-horses and member of Tattersall's) desires to communicate the +Winner of the Goodwood Stakes to Gentlemen who will Pledge their +Honour to respect his confidence, and send him ten guineas from +winnings. This advertisement emanates from no common tipster, and well +merits the confidence of the public. To prevent merely inquisitive and +unprincipled persons from benefiting by it, a post-office order (or +stamps) for 7s. 6d. must accompany each application." + +But, indeed, you may spend hours in reading the traps for the unwary +set by the person who occupies the room, and who is known to his +private friends as Con Stavely. He is a sharp cunning rogue indeed, +and has as many aliases as Argus had eyes; and the mine in which he +digs is rich enough, in all conscience, to make the fortunes of a +thousand such rogues as he. Gulls and dupes abound, and it has become +part of our social system that, turn which way you will, spiders may +be seen lying in wait for flies. + +Some of Con Staveley's systems are simplicity itself. It was only last +week that, in the innocence of his heart, he was explaining to an +intimate friend the machinery of one which seldom failed to bring +grist to his mill. + +"It is very easy," said Con. "Here, now; the Northumberland Plate is +going to be run for. You advertise, a fortnight or three weeks +beforehand, that you will send the winner for twelve stamps, and a +promise of five per cent. on their winnings. Throw in something strong +when you write the advertisement. Say you will forfeit a thousand +pounds if the horse you send doesn't win, or that you will eat the +horse, or something of that sort. Plenty of fools'll believe you. +You'll get lots of answers, and any number of stamps--more than enough +to pay for your advertisements six times over. Well, then, you make a +list of the horses that are likely to start for the Plate. You've only +got to know the ropes to do this easily. There won't be many starters; +about ten or a dozen, probably. Here is your list:--The Boy. The +Dwarf. Christopher Sly. Mineral. Taraban. Lord Hawthorne. Falkland. +Cap-à-pie. Myosotis. Miss Hervine. You get some circulars printed, +leaving a space to write in the name of the horse." + +"But why," asked Con's friend, "send answers at all? Why not stick to +the stamps and have done with it?" + +Con Stavely winked, thrust his tongue into his cheek, put a wing to +his nose, and in other delicate ways asserted the superiority of his +judgment to that of his friend. + +"My very worthy and particular," he replied oracularly, "you've got a +thing or two to learn before you're quite awake. Why? Because it pays +better the other way. To each one of your subscribers you send a +circular, with the name of one of the horses from your list, so that +if you get three hundred subscribers, and divide the list fairly, +there will be thirty subs to every horse. Of course the circular says +that it is impossible for the horse to lose; that the stable are +backing it heavily, and all that sort of thing. Well, one of the +horses wins--Taraban, Christopher Sly, or any other--it doesn't matter +which. Then you look out the names of the subs to whom you sent the +winning horse, and you send them congratulatory letters--you hope they +have won a pot, and that they will send you a percentage on their +winnings; you've got a rare good tip for the next big race, which you +will be glad to send to them. You'll get something from them, depend +upon it, if it's only half-a-crown's worth of stamps. A fellow sent me +a fiver only last week, and I've got plenty of post-office orders for +sovs. That's the reason why, my worthy particular. Because it pays +better, and because" (tapping his nose with his finger knowingly) +"honesty's the best policy." + +If all Con Stavely's systems are as simple as this one, gulls must +abound, indeed, to make them profitable. + +As Con Stavely sits and smokes and works on this summer afternoon, he +hears an uncertain foot upon the stairs. + +"It's the old un," he says. + +The reference to the "old un," which to uninstructed ears might have +borne a diabolical signification, applies to an old man--older than +his years, which may be about fifty--who presently enters the room. An +old man, with restless eyes that seek the ground, as if fearful of +looking any one in the face; a very shabby, sad, and worn old man. All +his clothes are too large for him, and are kept together by a very few +buttons and a great many pins. + +"Well, Muzzy," says Con, "got plenty of letters?" + +Muzzy, with trembling hands, produces letters from every pocket, and +deposits them on the table. All these letters are addressed to Captain +Leonard Maginn, who, as represented by Muzzy, is certainly not a +credit to the army; and they all contains stamps from persons eager to +be let into the precious secret which Captain Maginn, otherwise Muzzy, +is willing to impart to them for a trifling consideration. + +"Is this the lot, Muzzy?" inquires Con Staveley, when the old man has +completed the slow process of emptying his pockets. + +"Yes, Mr. Con, that's the lot," is the answer, in a shaky, hesitating +voice. + +"Haven't kept a few stamps back to get drunk with, eh, Muzzy?" + +"No, sir; no, Mr. Con," in querulously indignant tones, and with a +vain endeavour to express injured innocence with his eyes; but he +can't get them to the level of Con's face, strive as he may. "I +haven't kept a few stamps back, Mr. Con. You ought to know better, +Mr. Con, than to ask me such a question. I don't want them, sir, I +don't want them. I backed the winner yesterday; I backed the old +horse. I put a dollar on him, and the governor said he'd get me +starting-prices--twelve to one, that's what the old horse started at." + +"Why, who put Taraban into your head?" asks Con, good-humouredly, as +he opens the letters Muzzy has brought. "Not one of the prophets went +for him. You ought to set up in business for yourself, if you're as +clever as that." + +"No, sir; no, Mr. Con; I'm too old, sir--too old. My time's gone by. +If I were younger, as young as you, Mr. Con, I'd make a fortune. I'll +tell you how I spotted the winner, Mr. Con. I wrote the names of the +horses on pieces of paper, sir, and shook 'em up in a hat, and the +first one I drew out was Taraban so I backed him for a dollar. Back +your luck, always, Mr. Con, if you want to win; back your luck +always." + +Muzzy's voice and his hands and his whole body tremble and shake in +sympathy, as he relates the luck that has befallen him. + +"I hear the governor's step," he says. "Yes, that's him, on the +stairs. I'll ask him for my twelve dollars." + +"You're precious sharp on him, Muzzy; it isn't settling-day yet." + +"I know it isn't, Mr. Con, I know it isn't; but the governor's always +good to me. I'll give him a dollar if he let's me have the money now. +I'll take eleven dollars--eleven fives are fifty-five. That's good +interest, Mr. Con, and that's what the governor likes." + +"Hullo, Muzzy," exclaims Mr. David Sheldrake, as he enters the room, +"what are you shaking and quavering about for, eh? How much did you +back Taraban for altogether?" + +With an easy nod to Con Stavely, Mr. Sheldrake seats himself and +lights a cigar. + +"Only a dollar, sir, only a dollar with you," replies Muzzy. "I'd have +backed it for more--for all I could raise--but a dollar was all I had, +and I couldn't raise another shilling." + +"Just like your luck, eh, Muzzy?" + +"Yes, sir, just like my luck. I've spotted many a winner, sir, and +never had the money to back them. But luck's been against me all my +life, sir--all my life!" + +He passes the back of his hand slowly across his mouth half a dozen +times, and stands looking timidly at Mr. Sheldrake, with an uncertain +look in his eyes. + +"Well, Muzzy, what do you want now?" asks Mr. Sheldrake, with an +inward chuckle, knowing the old man's thoughts. + +"I thought, sir, you might be so good as to pay me the odds on +Taraban. I'm in want of money, sir, badly, very badly." + +"To get drunk with, eh?" + +"No, sir; I don't drink, sir; I've given it up," cries Muzzy, with no +consciousness that everything about him gives the lie to his words. +"I've taken the pledge a dozen times--a dozen times, sir, and I'll +take it again if you want me to." + +Mr. Sheldrake laughs; but something in the old man's earnest imploring +manner makes him suddenly serious, and he gazes attentively at the +shaking form before him. + +"Listen to me, old man," he says impressively. + +Muzzy leans forward to denote obedience. + +"Look at me." + +But Muzzy finds it impossible to comply with this demand. He raises +his eyes a dozen times, but he cannot control them. Invariably they +seek the ground. + +"I see you, sir," he murmurs apologetically. + +"Do you think it possible that you could look respectable if you had a +respectable task to perform?" + +"Yes, sir, I think so; I am sure so, sir; but I should want better +clothes than these," in apology for his rags. + +"And possible to keep sober, if it was worth your while?" + +"I'll take a solemn oath, sir, not to touch another drop of drink as +long as I live--not another drop! Shall I take my oath now? I'll take +it this minute, sir, upon the book!" + +In his eagerness he takes up a betting-book, and stands waiting for +the word of command. + +"Put down the book, you old fool! When I want you to take your oath, +I'll let you know." + +"Ready at any time, sir--at any minute." Which is literally true. + +"And when I want you to turn over a new leaf----" + +"As many as you please, sir; I'm ready." + +"You'd better do, if you don't want to go to the dogs. What would you +do if I were to say, 'Muzzy, old man, I've got no farther use for +you?' How would you live? Tell me that." + +Mr. Sheldrake knows that he is striking terror to the old man, for he +is the only friend Muzzy has in the world. Muzzy, standing in abject +humility before his patron and master, has no proper idea what a +valuable servant he is to that gentleman, not that the dirty work +which he performs for his employer would be poorly paid if he received +his wages threefold. All that he is conscious of is that he is an old +man, very feeble, very shaky, fit for nothing but the work--if it can +be called so--he is engaged in, and that it is in Mr. Sheldrake's +power to deprive him of the only pleasure the world affords--the +pleasure of getting drunk in private. + +"I'll do my best, sir," he says humbly. "You may depend on the old +man, sir. He's a little bit shaky sometimes, but Muzzy's to be +depended on." + +"All right, then; you can go now." + +But still Muzzy lingers, passing the back of his hand over his mouth +with a parched air. When he has mustered sufficient courage to speak, +he says, + +"Taraban started at twelve to one, didn't he, sir?" + +"That's the price, Muzzy, and I wish I'd known what you knew, you old +dog." + +"I only had a dollar on, sir--it was the last I had in the world. I'll +take eleven dollars if you'll settle with me now, sir. The landlady'll +be down on me for my rent to-night, and I haven't a copper to buy a +loaf with." + +Mr. Sheldrake pays Muzzy two pounds fifteen shillings, retaining the +odd crown for interest, and the old man slouches out of the room and +into the streets, and when he is near a favourite public-house, gives +the lie direct to his earnest words. + +No one who knew him had ever seen him take a glass of liquor at a +public-house bar. His enjoyment was indulged in secretly. He would +linger about the public-house where he bought his liquor until a small +bar marked "private" was empty; and then he would slink in, and, +without a word, take a bottle and place it upon the counter, casting +apprehensive looks at the door lest any one should come in and detect +him. The barman, knowing his wants, would fill the bottle. If Muzzy +was rich, he would produce a second bottle from another pocket, this +the barman would also fill. Quickly placing the bottles in his pocket, +Muzzy would lay upon the counter the exact price of the liquor (having +provided himself beforehand with the necessary change), and glide +swiftly away. Hugging the bottles to his breast, hiding them so that +no one should see, or even, as he believed, suspect, Muzzy would make +his way to his garret, and lock the door. Then he would experience +thrills of pleasure at the prospect before him, and he would sit and +drink and drink and mumble until every drop was gone; then he would +sigh and wish for more. + +Such was the bad sweetness which life contained for this ill-starred +man. + + + + + CHAPTER XV. + + SUGGESTS THE DOUBT WHETHER EVERY FRIEND IN NEED IS A + FRIEND INDEED. + + +"Con," said Mr. Sheldrake, "I want you to assist me in a private +little matter of my own, and to ask no questions." + +"Fire away, governor," was Con's rejoinder. + +"A young man will call upon you in half an hour, with one of my cards, +on which I have written, 'Do what you can for the bearer, a friend of +mine.' He wants to borrow some money." + +"And I am to lend it to him. How much?" + +"Stop a bit. He wants to borrow money; he is in difficulties. Backed +Christopher Sly, and lost; he's in a mess, and I want to do him a good +turn. He _must_ have the money, so you can put the screw upon him." + +"What interest shall I charge him?" + +"Whatever you like. It will be as well to make it something handsome; +he will agree to anything so long as he can get the money." + +"They generally do agree to anything," observed Con, sagely; "it makes +me laugh to see their long faces sometimes. What security can he +give?" + +"None, I expect. You'll have to take his bill." + +"Is it to be a long dated bill?" + +"No, short; not longer than three months. I don't expect he'll be able +to pay it when its due, but that's my affair." + +This was so contrary to Mr. Sheldrake's general mode of procedure, +that Con gave a low whistle--a whistle of curious inquiry, which +expressed, "What's his little game, I wonder?" Mr. Sheldrake did not +enlighten him, but proceeded with his instructions: + +"He'll tell you, of course, that he can't give you any security, and +you'll tell him, of course, that it will be impossible for you to lend +him money under the circumstances. But don't let him go away. Angle +with him until I come. I shall stroll in upon you quite accidentally, +and you can take your cue from me. Do you understand?" + +"Perfectly." + +"You can speak about me as if I was a soft-hearted, good-natured +fellow, always too ready to do a good turn. I've been taken in by a +great many persons, and you don't feel inclined to let me be taken in +again, or to follow my example. My great fault is that I think too +well of people: I believe that everybody is as honest and +straightforward as I am myself. I think that I am as sharp and cunning +as any man, but you know better. Directly my susceptibilities are +appealed to, I am as soft as a pat of butter." + +Con laughed heartily, and Mr. Sheldrake continued: + +"You and I are not in anyway connected in business, you know, and if +you feel inclined to do anything for him, it is only upon my +recommendation." + +"O, of course," said Con, still laughing. + +"I persuaded you to do a good turn to a fellow last year, who turned +out to be a scamp. You didn't lose any money by the transaction--I +took the liability upon myself, and paid you out of my own pocket, +although you hadn't the slightest claim upon me. It was only the week +before last that I took a poor man out of prison, and paid his debts +for him, and set him upon his legs again, because he had a wife and +family. But I don't like these things mentioned to my face. I'm the +sort of man who goes about doing all sorts of kind actions on the +quiet." + +Con opened his eyes wider, and still wondered what on earth Mr. +Sheldrake's little game was. + +"Then, of course, you're very short of money yourself," said Mr. +Sheldrake, in self-satisfied tones; for if there was one thing in the +world he had confidence in more than another, it was in his own +cunning and cleverness; he was always shaking hands with himself. +"You've had losses lately; all your money's locked up, and you've been +disappointed in people not keeping their promises; besides, it's a +very risky affair, lending upon personal security, especially to a man +you don't know anything of--and you're generally disinclined to +accommodate him until I make my appearance." + +Con gave a nod of acquiescence to each of these instructions, and Mr. +Sheldrake presently took his departure, and left the spider waiting +for the fly. + +He had not long to wait. The fly soon made his appearance. + +A very anxious-looking fly indeed. His countenance betokened nothing +but care and overwhelming trouble; looking very much like a fly who +had not had a wink of sleep last night--which, indeed, was the fact. + +Con Staveley received the card which the fly handed to him, and waved +his hand to a seat. Alfred sat down, holding his hat between his legs, +and looked nervously at Con Staveley; but finding no comfort in that +gentleman's face, looked into his hat with a like result. He was +terribly distressed. It seemed to him that life and death hung upon +the words of the judge in whose presence he was sitting. + +Con Staveley read the words on the card aloud: + +"'Do what you can for the bearer, a friend of mine.' Happy to see you. +Any friend of Mr. Sheldrake is a friend of mine. What can I do for +you?" + +Although his tone infused hope into Alfred's breast, the young man did +not know how to commence. Observing his hesitation, Con rattled on, +without waiting for him to speak: + +"Sheldrake's a fine fellow. A little too easy, a little too confiding, +but a fine fellow for all that. Doesn't look sharp enough after +Number One, though; and that doesn't do nowadays. You can take care of +yourself, I'll be bound; you look after Number One." + +With dry lips, Alfred muttered assent to the proposition. + +"Do you want to back a horse for the Cambridgeshire or the +Cesarewitch? Now's the time; the early bird catches the worm. I'll +give you sixty-six to one against any horse you can name. Spot the +winner and put a few tenners on. There's an old fellow I know spotted +Taraban yesterday for the Northumberland Plate. What do you think he +did, the old fool? Backed it for a crown. No pluck. He might have won +a heap of money, and now the chance has gone. About this time last +year a fellow came in--just as you have done now--asked about a horse +for the Cambridgeshire--wanted to know the odds. A hundred to one I +offered. 'I'll take it to fifty sovs.,' he said. I gave it to him, +five thousand to fifty. Hanged if the horse didn't win, with a stone +in hand, and I was nicked. He had pluck, that fellow, and took my +cheque for five thou. with a grin on his face. He's one of the +leviathans now--had a fifty thousand book on the Derby. Is that _your_ +little game? Have you come to take the odds? Well, I'll give them to +you, to any amount." + +"No," Alfred managed to say, "that isn't the business I've come upon." + +"Well, what is it, then?" inquired free-and-easy Con. "Fire away. Do +anything I can for a friend of Sheldrake's." + +"He told me to make a clean breast of it," said Alfred, playing +nervously with his hat; and Con Staveley thought, "What a soft young +fool he is!" "The fact is, I've been out of luck lately. I backed the +wrong horse yesterday." + +"Christopher Sly?" + +"Yes; it looked like a moral certainty for him." + +"It _was_ a sell," observed Con gravely. "Every one of the prophets +went for him. I was bit myself--heavily, too; so you're not alone in +the boat." + +Alfred derived no consolation from this statement. The reverse, +indeed. For the fact that the man he was about to ask to assist him +had lost heavily on the same race, rendered his chance of obtaining +money a less hopeful one than it had seemed. But he spurred on +desperately. + +"There wasn't one of the prophets or tipsters that went in for +Taraban. They all gave Christopher Sly. And if you can't believe them, +whom are you to believe? All the morning papers gave Christopher Sly +as the absolute winner--all the sporting papers too. Nothing else had +a chance. I sent five shillings to Horace St. John----" + +"Who is he?" asked Con innocently. + +"A gentleman. He advertises in the sporting papers. I sent him five +shillings for the tip, and got it--Christopher Sly. He sent me a +voucher with the tip--£20 to £2 against Christopher Sly. The horse was +then at only three to one, and he gave me ten to one. I sent him the +£2, and was afraid he would return it to me, because he had given me +too long odds. But he didn't; it was all right, I thought. I should +have won a little hatful of money if Christopher Sly had come in +first--but you know how it was." + +Alfred spoke fretfully, and without the slightest control over his +tongue. He felt that he was damaging the probable success of his +errand by whining about his misfortunes, but he could not help +himself. It was a necessity especially belonging to his nature to +endeavour to justify himself in his own eyes by attempting to prove +what an exceptionally unfortunate person he was. This is one of the +idiosyncrasies of weak and selfish natures, which seek to find comfort +in the fiction that all the world is in a conspiracy against them, and +that their misfortunes are caused, not by their own weakness and +selfishness, but by a predetermined effort on the part of everybody +and everything to persecute and crush them. + +"Well, I told all this to my friend Mr. Sheldrake," continued Alfred, +looking moodily at the floor, for Con Staveley's silence boded no good +result, "and told him I was in a hole, and wanted to borrow some +money. He would have lent it to me in a minute if he had had it--he +told me so--but he is short himself." + +"And always will be short," retorted Con grumblingly, "if he doesn't +give up being so soft-hearted. What with lending here and lending +there, taking this man out of prison and paying his debts, and setting +that man on his legs, he'll find himself in a mess one of these fine +days. The joke of it is, that he thinks himself the smartest man in +London." + +"He says to me," continued Alfred with a fainting heart, "'Go to my +friend Mr. Staveley, and take my card; he'll do what you want upon my +recommendation.' So I've come. You _do_ lend money, don't you?" + +"Yes, I lend money to responsible people," replied Con; "I've got a +good deal of money put into my hand for investment, and to lend out at +fair interest----" + +"I'll pay any interest," said Alfred eagerly. + +"But then of course my hands are tied so far as regards money that +doesn't belong to me. How much do you want?" + +"Fifty pounds I can manage with." + +"What security can you give?" + +"Security!" stammered Alfred. + +"Yes, this is a matter of business. You don't expect any +man to lend you money without security, do you? Have you got +prospects--expectations? I've lent money to a good many swells upon +their own and their friends' names, but then they have expectations, +and are sure to come into property; so that the money is certain to be +paid one day." + +"I haven't any expectations that I know of," said Alfred gloomily: +"but I'll be sure to pay you. Do you think I'd borrow money without +being sure that I can pay it back?" + +"I don't know," responded Con dryly; "some people do. What do you want +the money for? To pay betting debts? They're not recoverable in law; +and even if they were, isn't it as well for you to owe money to one +man as to another?" + +"But they're debts of honour," said Alfred, with a not uncommon but +very miserable assumption of high-mindedness; "no gentleman can afford +not to pay his debts of honour." + +"It seems you can't afford to pay them," observed Con mercilessly, +somewhat relishing the sport, "or you wouldn't come to me." + +If he had not been in a very miserable plight indeed, Alfred would +have replied hotly. But he was frightened and completely cowed. In +truth, if Con Staveley failed him, he did not know which way to turn. +And he dared not confess the truth; he dared not confess that, taking +advantage of his position in the office of his employers, he had +committed the common indiscretion of "borrowing" money for a few days. +If he did not replace it at once----well, he was terrified to think +what might occur. The minutes were very precious to him. Discovery +hung above him on a hair; any moment it might fall and overwhelm him. +These reflections kept him silent, and he suffered a very agony of +terror and remorse in the slight pause that followed Con Staveley's +taunt. + +"The only way in which you can get the money is by giving a bill for +it--to be paid in three months, say. Have you got a responsible +friend--somebody who is worth something--who will endorse the bill for +you!" + +"No," faltered Alfred, "I don't know anybody, except Mr. Sheldrake." + +"I don't want his name--he's good enough for any amount--but he would +most likely have to pay the bill when it's due (excuse my saying so), +and it wouldn't be friendly on my part to take it from him. The same +thing occurred last year. I accommodated a friend of his with three +hundred pounds; I did it only because Sheldrake persuaded me. Well, +the fellow didn't pay, and Sheldrake insisted on cashing up, though I +hadn't the slightest claim upon him. There's not one man in ten +thousand would have done it; but it was like Sheldrake all over. I +took the money, of course; it was business, you know, but it wasn't +friendly. I don't want the same thing to occur again. Sheldrake thinks +too well of people. He has a right to do as he pleases with his money, +but hang me if I like to be a party to his throwing it away. Then, +what do I know of you? It isn't reasonable of Sheldrake to expect me +to do this; upon my soul it isn't! Are you in business? Is your father +worth anything? Would he cash up if you put the screw on?" + +"I have no father," said Alfred, his heart growing fainter and +fainter, "and I'm not in business. I'm a clerk." + +"O, you're in a situation, I suppose." + +"Yes, I'm a clerk at Tickle and Flint's." + +"Salary?" + +"Fifteen shillings a week." + +At mention of which amount Con shifted some books from one part of the +table to another with very decided action, as if that settled the +matter. + +"I can put some of it by," exclaimed Alfred imploringly. "I can put it +all by, if you'll let me have fifty pounds for three months!" + +"Fifteen shillings a week wouldn't pay the interest, my boy," was +Con's rejoinder. "Wouldn't cover risk." + +"Then Alfred suddenly thought of Lily. If he mentioned her, it might +improve his standing in Con Staveley's estimation. + +"My sister earns money," he said in a shamefaced manner. + +"Indeed," very carelessly from Con. "What does she do?" + +"She sings at the Royal White Rose Music-hall. Her name's Lily. +Perhaps you've heard her?" + +Thought Con, of Sheldrake, "That is your little game, eh?" "O, yes, +I've heard her. So she's your sister. A pretty girl--I'd like to know +her. But about this fifty pounds you want--I really don't think I can +do it for you. Very sorry--very sorry, indeed, because you're a friend +of Sheldrake's; but to speak candidly" (which he did, with a display +of white teeth) "it isn't good enough. Best to be candid, you know." + +Alfred's weak hand was played out. The game was lost. He sat, looking +despairingly at the floor. What should he do? Run away? Try to hide +himself? That would draw attention to him, and bring exposure at once. +Besides, where would he be safe from the detectives? He almost groaned +aloud as he thought. The words of his grandfather came to him "Once +more I pray God to keep you from crime! Once more I say that the +remorse of a too late repentance is the bitterest of experiences!" He +was suffering this bitterest of experiences now, and felt the truth of +his grandfather's words. And yet he took credit to himself for the +good resolution he had come to, of being a better man if Christopher +Sly had won the Northumberland Plate. Whose fault was it that the +horse had not won, and that this monstrous undeserved misfortune had +come upon him? Not his. He had done his best: but he had been +deceived, swindled, robbed; those false prophets had ruined him, and +all the world was in a conspiracy against him. In this way he threw +the blame off his own shoulders, and felt no shadow of self-reproach +because he had been weak enough to allow himself to be duped by +tricksters. In the midst of his self-tormenting the door opened, and +he heard, in a pleasant voice, + +"Good-day, Staveley. How are things? Ah, Alf, you here! I thought it +likely I might catch you." + +Alfred looked up, and Mr. Sheldrake smiled familiarly upon him. "Like +Paul Pry, I hope I don't intrude," said Mr. Sheldrake. "Perhaps I'm +interrupting business." + +"O, no," replied Con; "our business is over." + +"Well, _that's_ all right!" and Mr. Sheldrake clapped Alfred on the +shoulder gaily. + +Alfred winced. He was labouring under a sense of injury, not so much +at the present moment on account of Con Staveley's refusal to +accommodate him, as on account of Sheldrake's recommending him to a +man who had failed him in this desperate crisis. But he could not +afford to quarrel with any man now; all his courage and insolence were +gone. He said, almost humbly, + +"Mr. Staveley won't lend me the money." + +"Nonsense!" exclaimed Mr. Sheldrake. "Not on my recommendation. Come, +come, Staveley, this isn't friendly, you know." + +"I think it is," replied Con; "there isn't a money-lender in London +would let him have what he wants. Why, he can't even give security! +Can't even give a good name at the back of a bill!" + +"Isn't my name good enough?" + +"For any amount; but we're friends, and I'm not to see you let in with +my eyes open----" + +"That's my affair," said Mr. Sheldrake warmly. + +"It happens to be mine as well. I don't want to take money of my +friends. Remember the three hundred you had to pay me last year, and +the hundred and twenty for that poor woman----" + +"Shut up!" interrupted Mr. Sheldrake. "Let my affairs alone. You've no +business to mention those things. You know I don't like it. How much +did you ask Mr. Staveley for, Alfred?" + +"Fifty pounds; that's all. For three months only." + +"A paltry fifty pounds!" exclaimed Mr. Sheldrake scornfully. "Why, you +might win it on a horse fifty times over in five minutes! There's the +Goodwood Cup and the Stakes going to be run for presently----" + +"I've got the tip for the Cup," cried Alfred eagerly; "I can get +thirty to one about it to-day. I'll pay Mr. Staveley directly the race +is over, and any interest he likes to charge, and I'll give him the +tip, too, if he likes." (Whereat something very like a grin appeared +on Con's face.) "The horse only carries five stone seven. He can't +lose!" + +"There, Staveley, do you hear that?" asked Mr. Sheldrake in a +reproachful tone. "Isn't that good enough for you?" + +Con Staveley shrugged his shoulders, indicating that it was not good +enough for him. + +"Curse me if I don't feel inclined to turn nasty!" then exclaimed Mr. +Sheldrake. "If I had the money to spare, I'd lend it to him on the +spot. But I shall be short for the next month." + +"Can't your friend wait till then?" + +With quivering lips, Alfred said, No; "he _must_ have the money at +once." + +"And you'll let him have it," said Mr. Sheldrake. + +"I don't feel at all inclined to," replied Con. + +Here Mr. Sheldrake took up his hat in pretended indignation, and +declared if this was friendship, curse him, he didn't want any more of +it! and otherwise expressed himself to the same effect in terms so +exceedingly warm, that Con Staveley began to lose patience. + +"Look here, Sheldrake," he retorted; "be reasonable. I'm doing this +for your protection, and you're infernally ungrateful. Your friend +wants the money to pay racing debts with; well, I told him before you +came in, that racing debts are not recoverable by law, so that whoever +he owes the money to _must_ wait until he can pay. Let your friend pay +his debts after the Goodwood Cup is run for; he'll be all right then. +As for friendship, you're a little too hard on me. You know fifty +pounds is no object to me, and if after what I've said you insist +upon becoming responsible for the sum, I'll let him have it. I can't +say fairer than that. But mind; I warned you." + +Mr. Sheldrake seemed impressed by what Con Staveley had said. He +considered a little, and asked if Con could let him have five minutes' +private conversation with Alfred. + +"You can have this room," said Con, rising. "I've got some writing to +do in the next. Call me when you have done." + +When they were alone, Mr. Sheldrake said, + +"After all, Alf, there's something in what Staveley says. Racing debts +are not recoverable. I can understand his feelings very well; he +doesn't know you, or anything about you. He is only anxious to protect +me. I _have_ been let in a good many times by one and another, and +I've paid him money which he has been obliged to take in the way of +business, and which he has lent, on my recommendation, to people I've +wanted to do a good turn for." + +"_I_ won't let you in," said Alfred. + +"I don't think you will, Alf. If I were in funds, you shouldn't have +had to come to Staveley for the money. But I can't shut my eyes to +what he has said. You must deal a little openly with me; you know I'm +your friend. You've lost this money on Christopher Sly?" + +"Yes." + +"Why not let the people you've lost it to wait?" + +"Because I've paid them already. I had to stake the money in advance." + +"You dealt with commission agents, then?" + +"Yes." + +Mr. Sheldrake hesitated before he asked the next question. + +"It wasn't your own money that you staked?" + +Alfred did not reply. + +"I don't want to press you unfairly, Alf," said Mr. Sheldrake, after a +few moments' study of Alfred's downcast face, "and I don't want you to +say anything you would rather not say. Young fellows often get into +scrapes. I suppose you're in one now?" + +"Yes, I'm regularly cornered," replied Alfred. "I wouldn't care so +much for my own sake--but there's Lily. She's fond of me, and it would +break her heart to see me in a mess." + +"Lily's heart sha'n't be broken, and you shall get out of your mess, +Alf. I'll stand your friend, as I said I would, and Con Staveley shall +let you have the money before you go." + +Alfred looked up, and grasped Mr. Sheldrake's hand. The revulsion of +feeling almost blinded him. + +"Mind," continued Mr. Sheldrake, "I do this for Lily's sake, so you +may thank your stars you've got such a sister." + +"She is the dearest girl in the world," cried Alfred, his good spirits +returning. + +"So she is, and I should like her to think well of me." + +"She'll do that, depend upon it. I'll let her know what a friend +you've been to me. You _are_ a trump! I'll pay Mr. Staveley after the +Goodwood Meeting." + +That astute person being called in, and Mr. Sheldrake's decision being +communicated to him, the next quarter of an hour was spent in the +drawing-up and signing of documents. Alfred signed everything +unhesitatingly, without reading the papers; he was too overjoyed to +attend to such small formalities. He signed a bill at three months for +seventy-five pounds, and would have signed it for a hundred and +seventy-five, without murmuring at the interest charged. The two +hundred per cent. per annum seemed to him fair enough, and when Con +Staveley gave him the cheque, and the business was concluded, he gaily +asked his friends to come and have a "bottle of fiz," an invitation +which they willingly and gladly accepted. Over the bottle of "fiz" +they indulged in a great deal of merry conversation, and Alfred forgot +his despair and remorse, and once more indulged in visions of shadowy +fortunes, and boasted of the grand things he was going to do. + +"I'll show them a trick or two," he said confidently. + +Poor fool! Not by such credulous selfish natures as his can tricksters +be tricked and dupers duped. They laugh in his face, and in the face +of stronger than he. Have they not reason? They are stronger than the +law, which is powerless to touch them. Yet it is a strange reflection +that a cunning rogue is allowed to swindle, and a starving woman is +not allowed to beg. But such is the law. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI. + + THE CAPTAIN ARRIVES. + + +If you were asked to come into Fairyland, you would expect to see +wonders, and you would consider it the height of presumption to be +conducted to a small room, nearly at the top of a house, in which a +child lies sleeping and a woman sits working. The roses on the wall +are sham ones; but there are two real roses in the centre of a bunch +of buttercups and daisies, which stands in a jug with a broken handle +near to the bed on which the child lies sleeping. It is eleven o'clock +at night, and the woman is working by the light of one candle. If ever +woman was happy, this woman is as she plies her needle and looks at +her child, and hums a few bars of a song softly to herself. The roses +on the child's face rival the real and artificial ones in the room. It +is a beautiful face to gaze at, and the brown eyelashes, and the curly +brown hair, and the lips deliciously parted, make a delightful +picture, which, were I a painter, I should love to paint. As it is, I +stoop in fancy and kiss the pure fresh lips of this innocent happy +child. What work is the woman doing? If this be Fairyland, is she busy +with the wings of grasshoppers making a cover for Queen Mab's chariot, +or collars of the moonshine's watery beams for the teams of little +atomies that gallop "athwart men's noses as they lie asleep?" No; she +is busy on some things very different indeed from these. And she is +doing good work--woman's work: darning stockings. + +And this is Fairyland! you say. And darning stockings is good work and +woman's work! you say. Can I detect a scornful ring in your protest? +But what are we to do, I humbly submit, if women will not darn the +stockings? Of course I mean poor women. Rich women, thanks to those +metaphorical silver spoons which are in their mouths when they are +born, do not need to darn. But poor women cannot afford to buy new +stockings every week; and they have to sit down to turn old lamps into +new ones, which they almost always do with infinite content, and with +a cheerful readiness which is not worthy of a better cause, for the +cause is a good one enough as it is. I declare it always gives me a +pleasurable sensation to see a good housewife--the true household +fairy--sit down of an evening at her fireside, and make preparations +to attack the contents of a basket where woolen stockings and cotton +stockings shake hands--no, I mean feet--together, and lie down side by +side in amicable confusion. What a homily might be preached upon the +contents of some of these baskets, which tell of many mouths to fill, +and of many little legs and feet to keep warm! What diversity is there +to be seen! and how suggestive is the contemplation of the thick +woollen stocking of the father and the dainty tiny Sunday sock of the +three-year-old darling! Yet have I not seen somewhere in print +articles and letters which give me the impression that women are at +length awaking from a hideous dream of centuries of slavery, and that +they consider it derogatory to their intelligence to darn stockings? +But if women will not darn stockings, who will? Or is darning as an +institution to be abolished? + +Say that in this woman and the work she is singing over there are no +graceful suggestions which, in their worth and purity and tenderness, +deserves to be ranked with imaginings and mental creations of +exceeding beauty--say, as some hard critics, aver, that she and her +occupation are the prosiest of prosy themes, and that the sentiment +which animates her and makes her contented and happy belongs of +necessity to the dullest of dull clay; tear from her and her +surroundings every vestige of ideality: divest her of everything but +what is coarse and common, and make the room in which she sits a place +to moan over the hard realities of life--still in this very room +Fairyland dwells. The little head that lies so peacefully upon the +pillow teems with wonders; imagination is bringing to the child +fantastic creations and scenes of exquisite loveliness and grace. +Though the strangest of contrasts are presented to her, there is +harmony in everything. The light, the fresh air, the brighter clouds +than those she sees in the narrow streets, play their parts in her +dreams in a thousand happy shapes and forms. She walks with Felix in a +field, gathering flowers more beautiful than she has ever yet seen; +there are silver leaves and golden leaves, and all the colours of the +rainbow hide themselves in flower-bells, and then peep out to gladden +her. There are lilies, and roses, and wallflowers, and daisies, with +the fresh dew glistening on their leaves and stems. She and Felix +wander and wander until they are tired, and sit down to rest amidst +the flowers, which grow and arch until they are buried in them, and +the light of day is shut out. Then they sink and sink through the +flowers, which dissolve and melt away, as it seems, and she and Felix +are walking among the stars. It is night, and the stars are all around +them. Suddenly, in the clouds which float in solemn splendour beneath +them, a valley of light appears, and she looks through wondrous depths +into a shining sea, with the only ship her world contains sailing on +it. When she and Felix are walking at the bottom of the sea--as they +do presently--the stars are still with them, and the Captain and the +Doll play their parts in her beautiful dreams. Happiest of the happy +is Pollypod. + +Up the stairs stumbles a tired-out man, with a dog close at his heels. +Mrs. Podmore jumps from her chair at the sound of his steps, and +almost in the twinkling of an eye the table is made ready for supper. + +"Well, old woman," says Jim, with a great sigh of relief at being home +at last. + +He speaks in gasps as usual, as if, after his day's hard labour, he +finds talking an effort. Mrs. Podmore takes a blue-cotton handkerchief +containing an empty basin from him--Jim's favourite dinner is a +meat-pudding, in the making of which his wife would not yield the palm +to the Queen's cook. Snap, the faithful dog, greets Mrs. Podmore with +sniffs at the hem of her gown, and when this duty is performed, leaps +upon the bed and licks Pollypod's face. + +"Did you enjoy yourself--old woman?" asks Jim Podmore. + +"That we did. We've had such a beautiful day, Jim!" + +Jim nods, and his hand wanders to Pollypod's neck, and caresses it. + +"What a colour--she's got--mother!" + +"Bless her little heart!" is the reply. "It's done her a power o' +good." + +He sees the flowers, and takes them in his hand. + +"They're for you, Jim," said Mrs. Podmore; "Polly's present for +father. She tried to keep awake to give them to you; but she could not +keep her little eyes open." + +He turns the flowers about tenderly, and a troubled look that was in +his eyes when he came home vanishes as he lays his great dirty face +and bushy head on the pillow. But when he sits down to his supper, +with the flowers before him to give an additional zest to his food, +the troubled look returns. Mrs. Podmore says quietly, + +"You're bothering your head about something, Jim;" and draws her chair +a little nearer to him. + +He does not answer her immediately, but makes a pretence of eating, +and presently lays his knife and fork on his plate, and pushes them +away. + +"Did you hear--the newspaper boys--a-calling out anything?" he asks. + +"No, Jim." + +"Nothing about--a accident?" + +"No, Jim. Has there been one?" + +"There's been--another smash-up--on our line. A lot o' +people--hurt--badly. I saw some of 'em. It made me sick." + +He takes the fork, and plays with it nervously. A look of apprehension +flashes into Mrs. Podmore's eyes as she notices his agitation, and she +asks, with white lips, + +"It wasn't your doing, Jim, was it? Don't say it was your doing!" + +"No, it wasn't my doing," he answers; but he evidently takes it to +heart almost as much as if he had been to blame. + +"It's bad enough, Jim," said Mrs. Podmore, relieved of her fear; "but +it would ha' been worse if you was to blame. It ain't your fault?" + +"It ain't my fault--no; but it might ha' been--it might ha' been. It +warn't his fault, either." + +"Whose, then, Jim?" + +"Whose?" he exclaims. "When a lot o' directors--works a feller--till +he's--dead beat--till blue lights--and green lights--and red +lights--dances afore his eyes--and he don't know what is real--and +what is fancy--is he to be made--accountable? Dick Hart--him as had +the accident--wouldn't lift his finger--agin man or child--and now +he's killed--two or three--and 'll be made--accountable. I never +saw--such a face--as his'n--to-night--when the people that was +hurt--was brought in. It was as white--as a bit o' chalk. He was hurt +as much as them. There was a child among 'em--a little girl"--(his +voice breaks here, and his eyes wander to Pollypod)--"they didn't know +what--was the matter with her. She breathed--and that was all. Dick +Hart--(he's got a little girl hisself, mother--and he wouldn't lift +his finger--agin any man)--Dick Hart--he trembles--and cries--when he +sees the little thing--a-laying so still--and he whispers to a +mate--as how he wishes--some one--'d come and strike him dead--where +he stands. As he says this--the little thing's mother--runs in +wild-like--and cries, 'Where's the man--as killed my child?' And Dick +Hart runs away--on the platform--and jumps on to the rails--scared +and mad--and if he hadn't been stopped--would ha' made away--with +hisself--somehow. But they stopped him--in time--and brought him back. +Another minute--and he'd ha' been cut to pieces--by a train--that was +coming in. They had to keep--tight hold on him; for when he was in the +room agin--and saw the little girl's--mother--on her knees by the +child--he fell a-trembling--and looked more like a animal--than a +man." + +"What will they do to him, Jim?" + +"The Lord knows! The law's pretty sharp--on us--for don't you see, old +woman, the public's got to be protected. Lord save us! As if it was +our fault! As if it was us!--the public's got to be--protected from! +It's a pretty how-do-you-do--altogether, that's what it is." + +"I pity his wife as much as him," says Mrs. Podmore, with all a +woman's sympathy. + +"She _is_ to be pitied. She's near her confinement, too--poor +creature!--and Dick, he's out of a billet now--and hasn't got +anything--put by. I tell you what it is, old woman--it's hard +lines--that's what it is--hard lines!" + +"But the Company'll see to her, Jim, surely!" + +"Will they!" exclaims Jim bitterly. "The Company'll pay you--pretty +regular--while you work--and 'll work you--pretty hard--while they pay +you;--that's what the Company'll do. You'd think--knowing, as they +know--that Dick Hart's got a wife as is near her confinement--and +knowing, as they know--that Dick Hart's wages is just enough to keep +him and her--and his little girl--and that it's next to impossible--he +could lay anything by--for a rainy day--you'd think, old woman--that +now Dick's in trouble--the Company'd pay him his wages--till he got +out of it! Catch 'em at it! That's not the Company's game. Their +game is--when an accident occurs--to make out--that they're not +accountable--and responsible--and that they're the victims--not us, or +the public. The Company'll see to--Dick's wife--will they, old woman! +Where's my pipe?" + +He has it in his hand, but is so engrossed in his theme that he does +not know it, and Mrs. Podmore quietly takes it from him, and fills it. +In truth there is another cause for Jim's agitation--a cause which he +dare not speak of, which he scarcely dare think of, as he puffs away +at his pipe. But it comes upon him, despite his reluctance to +entertain it, and fills him with terrible fear. This very night he +himself had a narrow escape from an accident. He was very tired, and +even as he stood waiting to shift the points for an expected train, he +fell into a dose. For how long he did not know--a second, a minute, or +many--but he was suddenly aroused by a furious whirl of sound. It was +the train approaching. In a very agony of fear, he rushed and adjusted +the points. Just in time, thank God! Half a dozen seconds more, and it +would have been too late. No one but he knew of the narrow escape of +the passengers, yet the anguish of that one almost fatal moment will +remain with him for many a year. + +It is with him now, as he smokes, and it remains with him during the +night, as he holds his darling Pollypod in his arms, and thinks what +would become of her if one night, when he was dead-beat, he should +fall asleep again on his watch, and not wake up until it was too late. +Then the fancy comes upon him that the little girl who was hurt in the +accident, and who lay like dead, was something like Pollypod; and he +shivers at the thought, and holds his darling closer to his breast. + +Pollypod is awake very early in the morning, and while her mother is +lighting the fire, and preparing breakfast for Jim, who has to be at +his post at half-past five, she tells her father all about the +adventures of the previous day. He listens in delight, and when she +comes to the part where Felix gave her the flowers, he says, "Felix is +a gentleman;" but Pollypod whispers, "No, he is a wizard;" and tells +of the ship and the Doll and the Captain, and speaks in such good +faith, that Jim is troubled in his mind, and thinks, "That all comes +along of my stupidity about my ship coming home! Polly'll break her +heart if she doesn't get the Doll." Jim cannot afford to buy one; he +is in the same boat as Dick Hart, and has not been able to put +anything by for a rainy day. He thinks that the very happiest thing +that could occur to him would be to pick up a sovereign as he goes to +his work. "If some swell'd only drop one now," he thinks absurdly, +"and I was to drop across it as I walk along!" + +When he is dressed and has had his breakfast, and stands by the +bedside kissing Pollypod before he goes, she makes him put some +flowers in the button-hole of his greasy old fustian jacket. + +"Now you look like Felix," she says, + +As Jim walks to his work, with the bright sun shining on him, he looks +anxiously along the pavements of the quiet streets in the ridiculous +hope that some swell had dropped a sovereign, and that it might be his +luck to come across it. But no such good fortune is his, and he wishes +with all his heart that he had not put the notion of the ship in +Pollypod's head. + +This ship that is coming home is always a poor man's ship, and many a +pretty conceit is woven out of it to gratify the poor man's child. It +is always sailing over the seas, freighted with precious treasure, but +it rarely reaches port. When it does, earth contains no greater +happiness and delight. + +The faithful dog, Snap, does not accompany his master on this morning. +Pollypod had said to her father, "Leave Snap at home, father. I want +to tell him something." + +So Snap is left behind, unconscious of the precious secret that is +about to be intrusted to him. Pollypod waits until mother is out of +the room, and then, kneeling upon her bed in her night-dress, she sets +Snap before her, and bids him listen. Snap, sitting gravely on his +haunches, but with some difficulty, for the bed is all tumbled about, +looks Pollypod straight in the face, with a serious demeanour worthy +of the occasion. He receives the intelligence that Pollypod imparts to +him with no other expressions of feeling than are contained in short +barks, and blinks, and rollings backward when he loses his balance; +but Pollypod finds this perfectly satisfactory, and tells him that he +is to be sure to be fond of the Doll, and not to growl at her or be +jealous of her. "For I'll love you all the same, Snap." Whereat Snap +licks her face, and by that act vows fealty to the Doll. + + +The week that passes after her mother's funeral is by no means an +unhappy one for Lily. A familiar voice and a familiar presence are +gone, and she grieves naturally. But she derives much comfort from +the restfulness and peacefulness of everything about her. The lodgers +in the house make as little noise as possible, and Jim Podmore, as he +goes down-stairs to his work in the early morning, treads as softly as +his heavy boots will allow him, so that he shall not disturb her. She +derives comfort also from Alfred's happier mood. The night after the +funeral he comes home with a bright look in his face, and greets her +with a kiss. With his arm round her waist, he draws her into her +bedroom, and tells her that she mustn't mind if he has not been so +affectionate to her lately as he ought to have been. + +"I have had some troubles," he says, "and have been very unhappy, +Lily. But now things look brighter. I'm going to love you more than +ever. I'm going to do something grand by-and-by. You'll see! I'm not +going to let you work much longer." + +"O, but I don't mind it, Alf," she replies, with her arm round his +neck. + +"Ah, but it isn't right. I'm going to work for you. I know a way! You +let me alone for knowing a thing or two. We'll have a better place +than, this soon, and we'll go about a bit." + +She listens to him with pleasure, in her innocence and trustfulness, +and kisses him softly. Alfred is proud of her--proud of her beauty, +proud of her gentleness and modesty--proud because she loves him and +thinks all the world of him. + +"I have made," he continues, "the best friend that any man ever +had--the noblest-hearted fellow I had ever seen or heard of." + +"O, I am glad of that, Alfred--I am glad of that! Who is it? He must +be my friend too. Do I know him?" + +Her thoughts turn to Felix as she asks the question, and an innocent +joy warms her young heart. + +"Do you know him!" he repeats gaily. "Do you know him, Puss! Why, of +course you do! You don't need me to tell you who it is. You can +guess--you do guess. There's only one--although he's only a new friend +after all, now I come to think of it. But he's a man every inch of +him. He gave a hundred and twenty pounds to a poor widow-woman who was +left penniless! The week before last he paid a poor man's debts--the +poor fellow had got into trouble somehow--and set him up in business +again, and made him comfortable--all because he had a wife and +children. What do you think of that, Lily?" + +"A noble nature, indeed!" says Lily softly, sharing Alfred's +enthusiasm, and wondering whether she shall ever see Felix again. + +"And he thinks himself so wise" (Alfred says this with a light laugh) +"that he's always being taken in." + +"That's a pity, Alfred." + +"O, but he don't mind; he can afford it, and likes it. If you knew +what a friend he is to me! And I shouldn't wonder if it was for +Somebody's sake----why, how you are trembling, Lily!" + +"You speak so warmly of this good friend, Alfred, that I am filled +with joy--for your sake, my dear, that you have found such a friend. +And yet I wonder, and cannot understand it." + +She almost whispers these last words. She has been carried away by +Alfred's enthusiasm. Certainly, Felix's kindness and gentle bearing +had made a great impression upon her, and her thoughts dwelt much upon +him. But it was only yesterday that she first saw him. It is all so +strange. Only yesterday! But it seems longer; it seems to her as if +she has known him for a long, long time. + +"So now you can guess who it is, Lily, can't you?" + +"I think I can, dear, and I am very, very glad! Glad to find he is as +good and noble as I believed him to be when I first saw him." + +"And it isn't so long ago that we first knew him!" + +"No, indeed, Alf dear--but yesterday!" + +"It might be yesterday. Why, it was only last Saturday night--just +five days ago--that he saw you home from the Royal White Rose." + +The little hand that was caressing his neck slowly withdraws itself, +and the flush of colour, that the excitement of the conversation had +brought to the cheeks, dies rapidly away. Her hands now lie idly in +her lap, her face is colourless, her eyes are drooping to the ground. +"You are speaking of"--she manages to say. + +"Mr. Sheldrake, Puss! The noblest-hearted man in the world. You +guessed at once--I saw it. Ah, Lily, that's a wise little head of +yours!" + +He takes the wise little head between his hands, and kisses her lips. +She kisses him thoughtfully, and gazes at him with a steady sad light +in her eyes. + +"And he is such a good friend to you, Alf?" + +"Haven't I told you!--and all, perhaps, for Somebody's----" + +With a rapid motion, she places her fingers on his lips. + +"And is really noble-hearted! And has done all these kind things!" + +"All, and more, Lily. It is quite by accident I heard of these; for he +is a queer character, and nothing displeases him so much as for +people to speak to him about his kindness, or that they know it. He +tries to show himself in quite a different light." + +Lily is silent and very thoughtful for a little time after this, but +she soon recovers, and her manner becomes brighter because Alfred's is +so. A great weight seems to have been lifted from his mind, and he is +more considerate of her than is usual with him. But she, in the +unselfishness of her affection, does not notice this; it is because he +is more cheerful that she is happier. + +The next evening is Friday, and Pollypod and her mother have tea with +Lily and her grandfather. Pollypod, of course, is engrossed by one +subject. She has the fullest faith in Felix, but as the end of the +week is very near, she is very curious about the Captain. She wants to +know so much--what a Captain is like; how the Captain will find the +house; whether the Captain will know her, and know that the Doll is +for her. Every knock and ring at the street-door makes her heart beat +loud and fast, and during the last two days she has tired out her +little legs by running up and down-stairs to see if the Captain is at +the door. Mrs. Podmore is not so sanguine. She tries to prepare +Pollypod for disappointment, but nothing can shake the child's faith. +He was the nicest-spoken gentleman (said Mrs. Podmore to Lily, in +confidence) that she has ever set eyes on. But Lord love you! he only +told Pollypod the story out of the goodness of his heart. He was as +good as gold, that he was; the way he carried Pollypod upstairs was a +sight to see; but all he wanted to do was to amuse the child, bless +him! What did he know of dolls, a gentleman like him? But Mrs. Podmore +does not win Lily over to her view of the question, for Pollypod has +also made a confidante of Lily, and she in her heart of hearts +believes that Felix will make the child a present of a doll. + +"Not such a handsome one as you say, Polly." says Lily to her; "but a +nice one, I daresay." + +"You'll see--you'll see," is all that Pollypod says in reply. "I wish +it was to-morrow! I wish it was to-morrow!" + +But although she wishes it were to-morrow, she looks out for the +Captain to-night, and listens to every footfall on the stairs. But the +night passes, and to-morrow comes, and still no Captain. As twilight +comes on, Pollypod's excitement is so great that Mrs. Podmore declares +she is afraid the child will work herself into a fever. So Lily +proposes that Pollypod shall come and sit with her and her +grandfather, and Mrs. Podmore consents, all the more willingly because +she wants to clean up for Sunday. Pollypod is glad to go down to the +first-floor, for she will be nearer to the street door. They sit at +the window, the three of them, Polly in Lily's lap, with all her heart +in her ear. Knocks come, and rings, but not one of them heralds the +Captain or the Doll. Lily believes in the Doll, but not in the +Captain; Pollypod believes in both. + +"If he doesn't come, Polly," says old Wheels, "I'll make you a doll, +on wheels." + +"He's sure to come! he's sure to come!" exclaims Pollypod. + +But twilight deepens, and the hope grows fainter. Pollypod's face is +on Lily's neck, and Lily feels the tears welling from the child's +eyes. Lily begins to feel sorry, also; sorry for more reasons than +one. Mrs. Podmore is busy upstairs, scrubbing the room; Sunday is a +day of rare, enjoyment to her and her small family. Old Wheels is on +the point of suggesting that they shall light the lamp, when a knock +comes at the street-door--a strange knock. Not a single knock for the +first-floor, not two deliberate knocks for the second-floor, nor three +for the third; but a rat-tat-tat, with a flourish which might be +intended for some person in this humble house who has distinguished +friends in the upper circles of society. Some one--never mind +whom--opens the door and a step that none of them recognises is on the +stairs. Pollypod jumps from Lily's lap, but Lily retains her hand. The +man lingers on the first landing. It is dark, and he is evidently a +stranger. + +"Does Mrs. Podmore live here?" he asks of Nobody, in a loud voice. + +"Yes," answers Old Wheels, going to the door. "On the third-floor, but +she's busy cleaning. What do you want of her?" + +"I have brought something for her little girl." + +"O, O!" cries Pollypod, and in her excitement Lily rises, and +accompanies the child to the door. "Are you a Captain?" + +"Yes." + +"What ship?" inquires Old Wheels, merrily for the child's sake, and +nautically in honour of the visitor. + +"The Fancy" replies the man in the dark. + +"Come in," says Old Wheels; "the little girl you want is here." + +And the Captain of the Fancy enters the room. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII. + + A HAPPY NIGHT. + + +The Captain of the Fancy, coming out of the streets where there was +little light, into a small room where there was less, could see +nothing of the occupants but shadowy outlines, and had to take it +for granted that he had brought himself to anchor in a friendly port. +He appeared to have no doubt upon the point; but then it belonged to +his profession to be as confident in danger as in safety, and to be +able to steer amidst rocks with a bold heart. So, like a true seaman, +he kept his own counsel. If he had any evidence to guide him to a +satisfactory assurance other than his sense of sight might have +afforded him, he did not show the acknowledgment of it. But there +being no sun, he could not take an observation; the darkness in the +room was like a fog at sea. He may have had other evidence; voices +that were familiar to him may have been one. As on the ocean, when +night usurps the place of day, and not an hour of the twenty-four +brings a glimpse of sunlight, peculiar murmurings of the solemn waters +whisper to the skilful ear warning of danger or assurance of safety. +But what familiar voices could he have heard in this humble room of +crowded Soho, seeing that he was Captain of the Fancy, and just come +ashore? And yet he seemed to consider himself quite at home, although +he and those in whose presence he found himself could not distinguish +each other's faces. + +He had a gruff and kindly voice had the Captain of the Fancy, and he +wore rough blue trousers, and a rough pea-jacket, and a rough cap. But +notwithstanding that everything about him outwardly was as rough as +rough could be, it is not unreasonable to assume that he had a kind +heart and a gentle spirit. Otherwise, he would scarcely have been +here on his present errand, where there was no freight charges to +receive--nothing but the overflowing gratitude of a poor little child, +who had never had a doll, and who lived contentedly upon the thought +of one, for a long, long time past. Insubstantial payment this, but +evidently sufficient in the Captain's eyes, as his conduct proved. He +could not have been more in his element on the ocean than he showed +himself in this dark room, in which he had set foot for the first time +on this summer evening. + +It was a peaceful evening, and everything in the narrow street was in +harmony with it. The window of the room in which he stood was open, +and there were flowers on the sill. There were flowers also on other +window-sills in the street, in pots and boxes; and he saw on the +opposite side, in a room which was lighted up, a woman covering a +bird-cage, in which doubtless a pet canary sang during the day. +Harmonious influences these: a weird contrast which was to be found in +a labyrinth of curiously-shaped thoroughfares a few hundred yards +away, in a very tangle of dwarf streets and alleys, where the glare of +light dazzled the eye and bewildered the senses. A strange scene +indeed, but so frequent and common in the great City as to possess no +novelty to the accustomed gaze; affording no food for reflection to +any but those whose hearts are in their eyes. Poor people were there +in shoals, bargaining and eking out their poor means to the best +advantage: trucks and barrows, filled with the commonest and meanest +necessaries of life, so choked the spaces as to render straight +walking an impossibility. Hoarse voiced men were bawling out +inducements to intending purchasers, who stood debating and reckoning +up before making the bold plunge. Some of the barrows were presided +over by pale-faced women, as nervous anxious-looking as many of the +timid ones who bargained for their wares. Here, a foreigner, having +made his purchase, hurried away with hanging head, as if what was +hidden beneath his coat was something to be ashamed of, or was so +precious that it needed swift lodgment in his garret before he could +consider it safe. Here lingered a hungry man, looking and longing, or +a cunning beggar who, by the counterfeit misery on his face, drew +pence and halfpence from others needier than himself. But what was +given was given ungrudgingly and with earnest sympathy. Here stood an +old man and a little girl with a basket on her arm. The old man was +sliding some coppers and two or three small pieces of silver in the +palm of his hand, calculating what it would buy for the Sunday dinner, +and the girl was looking up into his face with a pleasant light in her +eyes; a light which it was not hard to see often warmed the old man's +heart. He was a long time before he decided; and when he had made up +his mind, the foolish fellow jeopardised Monday's necessities by +purchasing a picture-book and a bunch of flowers for his little +granddaughter, Commerce, as represented in the market, did not show to +advantage. It was a shabby and second-hand institution; from the +damaged fruit and vegetables (which wore a frayed appearance) to the +old clothes, patched and mended, and the second-hand boots and shoes +(should it not be second-foot), with an excruciating polish on them, +like paint on the cheeks of age, to hide the ravages of time. Art was +not neglected; for here was a second-hand bookstall, and here an +inverted open umbrella, the interior of which was lined with prints +and engravings torn from old books, marked up at "a penny apiece, and +take your choice." The roar of voices from this busy mart came to the +Captain's ears, subdued and, sounding like the soft lapping of the +sea, added to the peacefulness of the quiet street. + +How it was that Lily's grandfather asked "What ship?" when the +stranger announced himself as a Captain, he could not have explained. +But it may be rightly surmised that it was prompted by his sympathy +with Pollypod, and by his gladness that she was not to be +disappointed. When Lily heard the Captain's voice--which most surely +have been unfamiliar to her, it was so gruff--she relinquished +Pollypod's hand, and softly went to her seat. There are some moments +which are very precious to us; now and again in our lives visions of +pure happiness come, and, indistinct and undefinable as they are, we +forget all else for the time; and with awe and gladness resign +ourselves to influences which fill the present with peace and joy. +Such times are the stars in our life's record, and the memory of them +never dies. + +Pollypod, standing by the Captain's side, exclaimed with tearful joy, + +"I'm the little girl." + +"And I'm the Captain." + +"I knew you would come!" (Her voice was so full and rich, that it was +a pleasure to hear it.) "Felix said you would, and he saw you such a +long way off. You _have_ brought her!" + +"Yes, here she is in my arms, little one. Dressed." + +"In what?" + +"Mauve silk, I think she told me." + +"O!" + +A volume of words could not have expressed more. + +"Hold hard!" cried the Captain, as he heard the scraping of a match +against a box, and guessed that it was intended to light up. "Let us +talk in the dark a bit." + +He knew that there were two persons, an old man and a little girl, +present besides himself, and the momentary flash of the match, as it +was drawn across the sand-paper, did not reveal to him a third, for +Lily was sitting in the darkest shadow of the room, and he was not +looking that way. The old man readily assented to the proposition to +talk in the dark a bit, and the shadows of the peaceful summer night +lay about the room undisturbed. But the Captain appearing to consider +that his proposition was too abruptly made, and scarcely justifiable, +he being a stranger and almost an intruder, added immediately, + +"That is, if you have no objection, and if you will pardon me for +suggesting it." + +"No apology is necessary," replied the old man, "from one accredited +as you are, and coming on such an errand." + +"It's a Captain's fancy," said the stranger. + +"And it's yours by right, as Captain of the Fancy," observed the old +man, in a gentle and courteous tone. + +"You are kind enough to say so. Of all the hours of the twenty-four, +I love that the most during which the day steals away to the other +side of the world. There's no time at sea so pleasant as night, when +it is fine and balmy, as this summer's night is, and when you can look +over the bulwarks into the water, and see it wake into living light as +the ship sails on. Then, when the moon rises, the heavens, as well as +the water, are filled with glory; though, for the matter of that, they +are always filled with natural beauty, whether it is dark or light." + +He spoke like a sailor, heartily though gruffly, and it almost seemed +as if the salt of the sea had got into his voice, and had given it a +flavour. So the old man thought evidently, and thought the flavour was +of the pleasantest (but there could be no mistaking that), for he +encouraged the Captain to proceed by asking, + +"How's the moon to-night, Skipper?" + +Thus showing that he had read of the sea, or at some time of his life +had travelled on it. + +"'Tis a few days old, and soon we shall see it, pure and clear and +bright--like truth, like modesty, like virtue, like the heart of an +innocent maid, like anything that is good." + +Almost a poet as well as a Captain. But what else could be expected +from one who commanded the good ship Fancy? The old man rubbed his +hands in satisfaction, and being drawn still closer to the newcomer by +the sympathy that dwells in kindly natures, farther encouraged him by +remarking, + +"You know all about the moon, Skipper?" + +"Not all, but something--sufficient for my purpose; and about the +stars also. I ought to, for they're the sailor's friends." + +"Yes," responded the old man; "they are nearer to sailors than to us. +They are more than visible signs at sea; they are testimony. On land, +we glance at them carelessly, regardless of their beauty and of the +lessons they teach. I never travelled much myself, but a generation +ago I knew one----" + +Here, however, the old man paused, as if he were being drawn on by the +attractiveness of the theme to speak at greater length than he deemed +proper, or as if this were not the right time to relate personal +experiences. But the Captain of the Fancy said, in a tone of the +deepest interest, + +"Proceed, sir, I pray. You knew one----" + +--"Who passed an adventurous life, and who, being wrecked, floated on +a spar on the wild seas for three days and three nights, being happily +picked up then by a passing vessel. What you said just now about the +stars brought him to my mind. He was alone, and but for the stars, +which were like companions to him, he would have relinquished his hold +of the spar, and bade good-bye to life. 'Hope on,' the stars said to +him; 'Do not despair. You are not forsaken.' The sight of them gave +him courage to persevere and to suffer; and they taught him the lesson +that, however lonely, however forsaken, however utterly wretched a man +may be in the world, the future contains for him a revelation in which +there is much goodness and sweetness. Which is surely true. For this +beautiful world, with all its wonders, was not made in vain; and we, +the highest form of intelligence it contains, have not played out the +parts allotted to us when the curtain drops upon our lives. The poet +says truly that the grave is not the goal of life, and only the +utterly selfish man can believe that it is the be-all and the end-all. +This friend of mine was almost a sceptic before he had the good +fortune to be wrecked; but the stars taught him differently. They +instilled a kind of faith into him. If a dark night had come, when he +could not have seen his consolers, he might have despaired. But he was +saved, happily. You say right. The stars are the sailor's friends." + +Pollypod found this dialogue so entrancing, that, eager as she was to +ask questions, she did not interrupt it. Taking advantage now of the +pause that followed, she asked of the Captain, + +"How did you find us out?" + +"Very easily, my lass; my friend Felix directed me." + +"Where is Felix?" + +"You will see him soon. Did you think I was not coming?" + +"I knew you would come. I told Snap so, and everybody. Are you Felix's +brother?" + +"No, my lass. What makes you think so?" + +"You speak like Felix, and yet your voice is different. Where have you +been to with your ship?" + +"The Fancy sails all over the world, and under it, and in the middle +of it, for that matter." + +"I want to know! How can a ship do all that?" + +"My ship can, and does, little one." + +"Are you a wizard, then, as well as Felix?" asked the pertinacious +little maid, who was in her glory, asking questions, and nursing the +doll, which was enveloped in silver tissue paper. + +"Being Captain of the Fancy, I may say, Yes. Else how could I see into +the heart of a little girl when I was so many miles away, and how +could I know that she was waiting and hoping and hoping that father's +ship would come home?" + +Then, to please the child, the Captain told of some wondrous voyages +he had made in the Fancy; spoke of mermaids and coral reefs, and +wonderful lands across the seas, where it was always summer. According +to his reckoning, life contained no sorrow; and "O, how I should +like to be there! O, how I should like to see!" murmured Pollypod, as +the bright pictures were presented to her young mind. Even the old +man, who had tasted the bitterest of experiences, listened approval to +the utterings of the Captain of the Fancy, divining, perchance, the +motive which prompted them. Lily said not a word; but when the Captain +came to the end of one of the prettiest flights of the Fancy, Pollypod +exclaimed, with enthusiasm, + +"O Lily! isn't it beautiful!" + +Whereupon, singular to say, the Captain's eloquence suddenly deserted +him. Somewhat of an awkward silence followed; broken by the old man +asking, in an amused voice, whether Pollypod did not want to see her +doll. The child answering, "Yes, yes!" eagerly, the old man lit the +lamp. They all looked with curiosity at the Captain, who, however, had +found something exceedingly interesting in the street, and as he was +looking out of window, they could see only his back. When he turned to +them, as he could not help doing presently, he had a very red face; +yet there was a sly gleam of humour in his eyes as he advanced to the +old man and said, + +"It was only for Pollypod's amusement, and for my own selfish +pleasure, that I sailed under false colours, sir. I did not expect to +find myself here." + +Unwinding a large handkerchief which was round his neck, and which +partially hid his face, he presented himself to them in his proper +colours. When Pollypod discovered that Felix and the Captain were one, +her delight may be imagined. She ran out of the room, and called her +mother excitedly, and then ran back and jumped into Felix's arms, +forgetting even her doll for the moment. Mrs. Podmore coming +down-stairs, and being informed of the part that Felix had played, +said aside to Lily, in a tone of complete admiration, "Well, I never! +But it's just like him. _I_ never saw such a gentleman in all my born +days!" + +The old man shook hands with Felix, and bade him heartily welcome, and +Lily also in her gentle manner, and in two or three minutes they were +as much at home together as if they had known each other all their +lives. Then came the important ceremony of unwrapping the doll, and +revealing its glories. Its reputation as the most beautiful doll that +ever was seen was firmly established in a moment. Pollypod gazed at it +in mute ecstacy, and worshipped the giver with all her heart and soul. +The great longing of her life was satisfied, and she was supremely +happy. She was allowed by her mother to sit up later than usual in +honour of Felix; but the excitement of the day proved too much for +her, and after a little while she fell asleep with the doll in her +arms. + +The others sat by the window, and the old man and Felix, finding in +each other much that was congenial, talked unreservedly of many +matters. It seemed to be tacitly understood that the painful incidents +which had occurred on the day of the funeral should not be spoken of, +and no reference was therefore made to them. Lily took but little part +in the conversation; she sat and listened with a soul in harmony with +everything about her. It was very seldom that her grandfather had the +opportunity of enjoying a quiet hour with a nature which so nearly +resembled his own. Both he and Felix evidently loved to look at common +things from almost an ideal point of view, and the most ordinary +matters, as they conversed upon them, were occasionally invested with +bright bits of colour which matter-of-fact and prosaic minds would +have utterly failed to see. Only once was Lily's mother referred to; +the reference arose from a remark made by Felix concerning the +singular peculiarity in the room that nearly everything was on +castors. The old man explained that it originated from his daughter's +sickness. + +"Every little noise fretted her," he said, "and as I had learnt +turning in my young days, I amused myself by making small wheels to +whatever I laid hands on, so that it could be moved about without +noise. It was not quite an idle whim, therefore; it has occupied my +time, which otherwise would have hung heavily, and I have really grown +to believe that it could be made to serve many useful purposes. The +man who first conceived the idea of a wheel was a great benefactor. +Civilization," he added, with a pleasant laugh, "would be at a +standstill without its wheel." + +One thing leading to another, in the course of conversation they found +themselves conversing upon deeper than mundane matters. They had been +talking of the comparative value of creeds, and the old man said, + +"Faith is everything. So long as a man believes--if his belief be +associated with anything that is pure and good in itself--it matters +little what it is. To me it is the worst kind of arrogance, the worst +kind of intolerance, for a man to say, 'Believe as I believe, or you +are lost.'" + +"And those who don't believe?" suggested Felix. + +"Degrade themselves. We are but part of a system, they say, and we +live and wither and die like birds and beasts and plants. Our parts +being played out, we perish utterly, and make room for others. Do they +ever consider that man is the only form of life which seems to be +capable of improvement--that only man advances, improves, discovers, +acquires, and that all other things in Nature are the same now as they +were in the beginning? That the sun rises as in the olden time; that +the seasons are the same; that all forms of vegetable life show no +change in all these centuries; that beasts make their lairs as of +yore, and birds their nests,--that all these, according to the laws of +nature, are sufficient for and in themselves, and that of all the +wonders that fill the earth, man is the only one that thinks, aspires, +thirsts to know, and conquers?" + +In this strain they talked until nearly midnight. Long before their +talk was over, Pollypod had been taken to bed so fast asleep, that she +could not even wake to kiss Felix. She smiled as he kissed her, and +Mrs. Podmore thrilled with joy as she gazed, in thankful, full-hearted +admiration, on the beautiful face of her child as she lay in her arms. +Unclouded happiness rested in Polly's face, and rested also in the +hearts of all present, old and young. + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII. + + THE BEATING OF THE PULSE. + + +Being thrown upon his own resources, Felix employed his time in +looking about him--not in the most industrious fashion, it must be +confessed, but after the manner of one who was entirely independent of +the world, and who had merely to make up his mind which of the many +good things by which he was surrounded would be most suitable to a +young gentleman in his position. The weapons with which he was armed +to fight the battle into which he had thrown himself were +trustfulness, simplicity, and faith in human nature. These weapons are +good enough, in all conscience, in themselves; but we are not content, +nowadays, as we were of old, to fight a fair fight, man to man. +Torpedoes and other infernal weapons have come into fashion; and a +man, unless he be crafty, has but a small chance of victory when he +throws down his glove. + +One of the first things Felix did when he came into London to conquer +it was to make himself comfortable. He established himself in a +capital hotel not half a mile from Soho, so as to be near his friends; +for it may be truly said that the only friends he had in London lived +in the little house in Soho inhabited by the Podmores, and the +Gribbles, and Lily and her grandfather. He found plenty of excuses for +going there often: Gribble junior was an umbrella maker, and Felix's +umbrella was so continually out of repair, that it became quite a +source of revenue to the bustling frame mender. + +"What! another rib gone!" Gribble junior would say, with a look of +astonishment, not suspecting that Felix had broken it purposely, so +that he might have an excuse for calling at the house in the middle of +the day; "it'd be cheaper to buy a new one, sir." + +But Felix protested that he would on no account part with so old a +friend; and the repairs continued to be made, until not a particle of +the original structure was left. There was no necessity for these +small subterfuges on Felix's part, for after a time he was always +welcome in that house, and his happiest hours were spent there. They +all liked him; and as for Pollypod, her mother declared, in the +pleasantest of voices, that she was as jealous as jealous could be, +her little girl was that fond of him! All this was very agreeable, and +Felix decided that his new career had commenced in the most +satisfactory manner. His training had not been of such a nature as to +cause him to value money, or to be careful of it; and while he had it +in his purse, he spent it freely. He did not do so from recklessness, +but from a largeness of nature (although he himself would have +disputed it warmly and with a quaint logic), in the light of which +small matters of feeling were ridiculously magnified, and the world's +goods dwindled down to insignificant proportions. Therefore, while he +had he spent; and it was fortunate for him that his tastes and desires +were simple and easily satisfied, for he grudged himself nothing. The +present being amply provided for, he had no fears and no anxiety for +to-morrow. His nature was one which it was easy to impose upon, and he +did not escape the snares set in the public thoroughfares for liberal +hearts. The piteous eyes and faces of beggars that were raised to his +appealingly were never raised in vain. When he was told that these +were part of a trade, he refused to believe. Arrows tipped with doubts +of human goodness glanced from off his generous nature, and left no +wound behind. And yet, as will be seen, he was keen enough in some +matters concerning which men who knew infinitely more of the world +than he (priding themselves upon it) were blind. Speaking upon the +subject to Lily's grandfather, the old man said, + +"If you thought a man who begged of you was an impostor, you would not +give." + +"I don't know that," replied Felix. "I am selfish enough to think I +should." + +The old man smiled at this reference to one of Felix's pet theories. + +"It does not so much concern them as me," continued Felix, with sly +gleams. "I give to please myself. Is not that a selfish motive? Not to +give would be to deprive myself of a gratification. I say to myself +sometimes, almost unconsciously (but the sentiment which prompts it +belongs to my nature, or I should not have the thought), 'Bravo, +Felix! that was a good thing to do. You are not a bad fellow.'" + +The old man was amused at this. + +"The thought comes afterwards," he said. + +"But it comes," insisted Felix, as if determined to deprive the kind +promptings of his nature of grace--"it comes, and that is enough. It +is an investment. I give away a penny, and receive the best of +interest. Pure selfishness, upon my word, as is every other action of +our lives. But apart from this, I don't believe that these men and +women are not in want." + +"Ah, well," said the old man, looking in admiration at the animated +face of Felix; "it is better to trust than doubt. Suspicion ages the +heart, and robs life of bright colour." + +Satisfied that he was spending his time profitably, Felix found life +very enjoyable. He did not trouble himself about the past; the world +was before him, and he was observing, and studying, and preparing +himself to open his oyster. His hotel was in the Strand, and he soon +became well acquainted with the phases of life presented in that +locality. The streets were so full of life, and there was so much to +see. The shops; the theatres; the conveyances the streams of people +flowing this way and that, a few smiling as they walked, some idling, +some talking eagerly to themselves, unconscious of the surging life +through which they make their way--each man perfectly engrossed in his +own personality, each a world, the secret ways of which were known +only to himself. He was soon quite familiar also with the singular +variety of street-shows which can there be seen daily. With the +broad-shouldered, frizzly-haired Italian with his monkeys, residents +of Short's-gardens, where probably the dumb brutes are not so tenderly +treated as strangers, who see them hugged to their master's breast as +he walks along, might suppose them to be. With another monkey also, a +poor little creature, who, being pulled this way and that by a chain +attached to its master's wrist, capers on the pavement (generally at +night) to the dismal moaning of an organ, upon whose grinder's face a +ghastly smile for ever sits, suggesting the idea that it must have +been carved upon his features in infancy. With the melancholy-looking, +straight-haired young man who plays operatic selections upon the spout +of a coffee-pot and through the nozzle of a bellows, and who selects +the widest of the side thoroughfares for his entertainment, seldom +commencing until a perfect ring of admirers and curiosity-mongers is +formed, and who, while his island is being made, stands with an air of +proud humility, as who should say, "I am the only and original player +upon the spout and nozzle in the kingdom; all others are counterfeit." +With the inconceivably-maniacal Swiss quartette, who shout and caper, +and produce hideous sounds from throat and windbag. With the Mongolian +impostor who sits upon a doorstep, uttering never a word, with a look +upon his face as of one suddenly stricken with fatal disease. With the +poor miserable woman, whose thought may soar upwards, but whose eyes +never see the sun, for her body is literally bent in two, who creeps +almost daily along the Strand; and with many other forms of beggary, +even less attractive than these. + +What Felix saw in the streets were not his only studies; he read the +newspapers carefully, and not seldom was he amazed at the inequality +of things. He found it difficult to understand how, in one shape, a +certain thing was held up for public censure and condemnation, while +in another shape precisely the same thing (in a worse form perhaps) +was quietly tolerated, and even admired. As thus: He read in the +papers from time to time accounts of proceedings taken against the +publishers and venders of a weekly illustrated sheet, against which it +was charged that it contained objectionable pictures. When he saw the +illustrations he at once acquiesced in the justice of the proceedings, +and decided in his own mind that they pandered to the worst taste, and +were calculated to do much harm. But looking in many of the shop +windows in the locality of the Strand, he saw pictures infinitely +worse in the effect they would be likely to produce than those which +were published in the objectionable paper. The portraits and +full-length pictures of nearly naked women, taken in every attitude +that the lascivious imagination could suggest, and paraded +conspicuously in these windows for public admiration, were worse, in +their insidious badness, than anything that Holywell Street ever +produced. There was no disguise of what are called "female charms" in +the pictures; they were displayed to their fullest extent to feed the +sensual taste, and neither art nor any useful purpose was served by +these degrading exhibitions. On the contrary; they tended to mislead, +in their incongruous mixture of worth and shamelessness. For here was +an actor deservedly popular; here was a courtesan, deservedly +notorious; here was a statesman and a poet, whose names add lustre to +the history of the times in which they live; between them a shameless +woman, bold and lewd, and almost naked; above _her_, a princess, +worthily loved, with her baby on her back, clasping the mother round +her neck--a picture which the poorest wife in England feels the +happier for looking at, so much of homely love and wifely virtue and +sisterly kinship does it suggest; while below was paraded the +painted face of a wanton, whose name is shame. In one window of a +semi-religious kind, in which the frequenters of the May meetings at +Exeter Hall might be supposed to gaze without fear of contamination, +the very worst of these lewd pictures were displayed in the company of +Bibles, and Prayer Books, and Church Services; an association which, +by any sophistry, could not have been proved to be a good one. + +In the study of these and other matters Felix found the time pass +rapidly away. Something else passed rapidly away also--his money. +Calling for his hotel-bill one day, he found that, after paying it, he +would have scarcely twenty pounds left. This set him thinking. If he +continued to live in the hotel, he might not be able to pay his next +bill, and the dishonour attaching to such a contingency caused him to +resolve to adopt a more modest mode of living. The gravity of the +position made him serious, but not for long. His idle days were +gone--well, he was glad of it; he was tired of idleness, and longed to +be up and doing. "If I were a rich man," he thought, "and could not +get work without paying for it, I'd pay for it willingly, rather than +be idle." Yes, it was time for him to set to work. He would first take +lodgings in some cheap neighbourhood, and there he would look things +straight in the face. It is amazing what comfort is found in metaphor, +until the time for action arrives. In making this resolution Felix +worked himself into such a state of excitement that he really believed +he had already commenced life in earnest. At first he thought of Soho, +but very slight reflection induced him to forego the temptation of +living in the neighbourhood of Lily. "Whatever struggles I have," he +thought, "I will keep to myself." Chance directing his steps to +Vauxhall, he saw there numbers of bills in the windows announcing +rooms to let. Seeing a decent-looking woman with a baby in her arms +standing at the door of a house in which there was a first-floor to +let, he spoke to her, and asked for particulars. The rent for +sitting-room and bedroom was very moderate, he found. Upon inquiry he +learned that there were other lodgers in the house, that indeed it was +filled with lodgers. The landlady and her husband lived in the +basement; a married couple occupied the parlours; and four or five +persons, perfectly independent of each other, lived on the second and +third floors. "You'll find us very quiet, sir," the landlady said, +looking with an eye of favour upon Felix, and wondering why so smart a +young gentleman as he should desire to live in that poor +neighbourhood, "and you'll have no call to complain of the +attendance." Felix, perfectly satisfied, pinched the baby's cheek, +paid the first week's rent in advance, and received his latch-key. It +was characteristic of him that when he left the hotel he was as +liberal to the attendants as if he had been a gentleman of independent +property. + +When he was settled in his new lodgings, he bethought himself of his +promise to Martha Day, his father's housekeeper, to let her know his +address in London. He had written to her from his hotel, and had heard +from her there. As he wrote now, he thought, "If Martha knew how poor +this neighbourhood is, she would guess the reason of my moving; but +she cannot know much of London, and will not be able to learn anything +from the address." He wrote his letter, and went out in the afternoon +with the intention of posting it. But wandering about in idle humour +he forgot it, and at about nine o'clock in the evening he found +himself at his street-door with the letter still in his pocket. He was +about to put his latch-key into the lock when he remembered the +letter, and he was turning away, thinking how stupid he was to be so +forgetful, when the door opened from within, and the very woman in his +thoughts passed swiftly into the street. Martha Day! To see her in +London, away from his father's house, with whose gloom her own joyless +gloomy manner was so thoroughly in unison that they might have been +deemed inseparable, would have been surprise enough in itself; but to +see her there, in that house, so suddenly and strangely, was so great +a surprise that for a moment he thought he had seen an apparition. +When the first shock of the surprise was over, he looked after the +woman, and saw her turn the corner of the street. Then he knew that he +was not mistaken--it was Martha Day he had seen. He hurried after her, +intending to speak to her; but when he turned the corner, he could not +see her, and although he ran hither and thither, he could find no +trace of her. Strangely perplexed, he walked slowly back to the house. +Perhaps she had come there to see him--but how could she know he lived +in that house, having been in it only a few hours? He questioned the +landlady, but she could not enlighten him. She had seen no particular +woman pass in or out of the house. There were so many lodgers, you +see, sir, that all sorts of strange people come in and out. Had any +inquiry been made for him? he asked. No; how could there be, was the +reply, when the landlady didn't know his name? That was true enough; +he had not given his name when he paid the week's rent in advance. +Then he described Martha Day--her face with no trace of colour in it, +her eyes nearly always cast down, her hands nearly always hidden, her +black dress and bonnet--and asked if the landlady knew her. No, the +landlady never remembered to have seen her; and when Felix went +up-stairs to his room, the landlady thought it was singular that he +should be so anxious about the woman--and not a young woman either, +according to his description, she added mentally. + +Felix in his room re-opened the letter he had written to Martha, read +it carefully, and put on his considering-cap. But the more he thought +the more he was perplexed. "She cannot have come here for me," he +thought; "and she cannot have come here without a purpose. If I write +to her from this address, it may disturb her, or cause her annoyance +in some way." He tore up the letter, and wrote another, giving his +address at a post-office in the locality. As he went down-stairs in +the dark to post the letter, he brushed somewhat roughly against a +lodger who had just entered the house, and something which the man +carried in his hand dropped to the ground. It sounded like a bottle. +"I beg your pardon, I'm sure," said Felix, groping in the dark for +what had fallen; "I hope it is not broken. No; here it is." He handed +a flat bottle to his fellow-lodger, who received it eagerly, and +feeling with trembling fingers for the cork to assure himself that the +liquor had not escaped, muttered humbly, "No offence, sir; no +offence," and passed to his room. + +Felix was in the humour to be irritated by trifles, and this small +incident vexed him unreasonably. He was annoyed with himself for being +vexed, but he could not shake himself into good-humour, and as, in his +present mood, sleep was impossible, he walked along the Embankment and +over Westminster Bridge towards Soho, and thence to the Royal White +Rose Music-hall. It was in the full swing of prosperity, and the usual +audience was present. Composed of pale-faced young men without +whiskers, of fuller-fleshed and older men with much whisker, of boys +sharply featured and men richly lipped, of young men naturally old, +and old men artificially young; of work-girls and servant-girls, and +other girls and other women. There were many hats of the kind called +Alpine, with peacocks' feathers in them, of course; there were +many overcoats with sham fur collars and cuffs; there was much +cigar-smoking and whisky-drinking; and there was generally a large +amount of low swelldom in a state of assertive rampancy. In a certain +respect the audience resembled the audience which was assembled in +Noah's Ark--there was a great deal of pairing. As Felix entered the +music-hall, there came upon the stage a very stout and very short +female vocalist, between thirty-five and fifty years of age, dressed +in a gown which appeared to have been made out of faded bed-hangings. +She was by no means attractive, having bad teeth and a peculiar habit +of squeezing the corners of her eyelids, as if she had some nice +things there which she wanted to keep all to herself. She sang a song, +and there was no applause. Whereupon, the Chairman struck on his bell, +and said she would oblige again. She obliged again. The audience did +not seem to mind her, one way or another. She obliged a third time, +and the refrain to her third song catching the sympathy of her +hearers, she finally retired in triumph, and then the audience wanted +to see her again, and she didn't come. Felix did not like to think of +Lily in association with these things, and he walked away from the +place in nowise soothed by his visit. Naturally light-hearted as he +was, a strange sadness was upon him to-night, and whether it was by +chance, or because his gloomier mood induced him to observe them more +closely and take them to heart, the darker shadows of life forced +themselves upon his attention; turn which way he would, he could not +escape from them. He had just passed a throng of night-birds, dressed +in gay plumage, when sounds of mirth arrested his attention, and he +saw before him a child-girl, perhaps fifteen years of age, with blue +ribbons in her hair, with mocking flowers in her brown hat, with a +white cloud round her throat, with a green dress, and with a petticoat +marvellously fashioned and coloured, staggering along drunk, swaying +her body, waving her arms, and protesting with feeble imploring, even +in the midst of her helpless degradation, against the gibes and +laughter of a grinning mob. The men and women composing the mob +laughed, and nudged each other in the ribs with a fine sense of +humour, and made witty remarks, and winked and flashed their fingers +at the girl, and pointed her out to chance acquaintances, and indulged +in other expressions of delight at the piteous spectacle. An omnibus +conductor jumped down to have a look, and jumped up again, refreshed; +a man with waxed moustaches followed the girl with undisguised delight +and admiration; a cab-driver stopped his horse, and laughingly pointed +at the girl with his whip; a beggar stamped his curiously-clothed toes +in approval as the mob scrambled past him; and a fair-haired girl +smiled pleasantly to herself, and hugged her furs as she walked +through the crowd. Not one stopped to pity; not one among them stepped +forward to save the miserable drunken child-girl from the taunts and +word-stings which were flung at her from all sides, until a policeman +came, and, with a merciful harshness, seized the girl's arm, and +pushed her before him to the police-station. + +O! London's Heart! Laden with the sorrow of such lifeblood as this! +What purifying influences can be brought to bear to lessen the pain +that beats in every sob? In this great land, filled as it is with +preachers social and political--in which every hour children are born +to suffer, to grow up to shame and sorrow--can no medicine be found to +cool your fevered blood, and no physicians, unselfish, wise, and +merciful enough, and sufficiently regardless of the pomp of power, +capable of administering it? Some few healers there are, who toil not +in the light, and whose earnest lives are devoted to their work. +Blessings on them, and on every heart that dictates benevolent remedy, +even although it can only reach a few out of the many suffering! +Blessings on the head that devises it, on the hand that administers +it! You who walk through life wrapped in the cruel mantle of +selfishness, heedless of the wails of your helpless brothers and +sisters, stand aside; you who only heed your own comfort, your own +ease, your own well-doing, who have no ointment for your neighbour's +wounds, stand aside; let the gloom of night encompass you and hide +your faces! But you whose hearts bleed at the sight of suffering, +whose nerves quiver at the sound of it, whose hands are eager to +relieve it, come into heaven's light, and let it shine upon you and +the aureola which crowns you, in which every kind impulse that finds +life in action gleams like a blessed star! + +It was past midnight when Felix made his way to his lodgings. The +humble streets through which he walked as he neared his home were not +quite deserted. Night-birds were there also, but of a low degree; +night-birds with soiled plumage and ragged feathers; night-birds whose +voices grated upon the ear, like the harsh cawing of crows. High up, +from dingy garret windows, glimmered pale gleams of light. What +mysteries were being wrought within those chambers? How beat the +pulse of London's Heart? What links in the greatness of the mighty +city were there being woven? Perchance within sat some poor seamstress +stitching for bread sleepily through the night, wearing--O, dreadful +paradox!--wearing her life away so that she might live. Not fables, +not legends of the past, are such life struggles--they are of to-day. +Perchance within was hatching some crime, the execution of which would +quicken for a day the pulse of the great City's Heart. Who knew or +who could tell? Crime and patient endurance, purity and vice, are but +divided by a narrow strip of wall, and none can see the mysteries that +lie beneath a single roof but the sleepless Eye which shines above +them all! + + + + + CHAPTER XIX. + + MR. SHELDRAKE SUGGESTS THAT IT IS TIME FOR MUZZY TO TURN + OVER A NEW LEAF. + + +Congratulating himself upon the escape he had had of losing his +precious liquor in his encounter with Felix on the stairs, Muzzy, +hugging the bottle to his breast, mounted to the one room in the +garret which formed his home. The room was not so dark that he could +not see shadows on the walls, which as he opened the door seemed to be +imbued with weird animation. His own shadow, as he stood in the centre +of the room, assumed monstrous proportions, and covered one side of +the wall and ceiling; there was something so threatening in it, and so +dreadfully suggestive to the old man, that he hastened, with trembling +fingers, to light a candle, still keeping the bottle hugged to his +breast the while as tenderly as if it were human. The candle being +lighted, he felt as if he had escaped some great danger, and his +manner became more assured. Before laying the bottle on the +mantelshelf, he looked at it wishfully, and uncorking it, was about to +drink, when he closed his lips with a snap, and resisted the +temptation. Taking off his hat, he produced from the interior a flower +which was stuck in the lining for safety. This flower was evidently +intended for a special purpose, which, had he needed any reminding, +recurred to him as he looked round the room. It was very poorly +furnished, containing merely a bed, two or three chairs, and a table. +But everything was tidy and in its place. The bed was made, and the +little piece of faded carpet in front of the fender had been newly +swept and put straight. He opened a little cupboard, and saw the few +pieces of crockery it contained set in their proper places. Indeed +there was about the whole place an order and cleanliness one would +scarcely have expected from the appearance of the owner. + +"Good girl, good girl!" muttered Muzzy, as he noted these evidences of +comfort; "there are few like her, I should say." + +He went into the passage, and called, "Lizzie, Lizzie!" receiving no +reply, however. He tapped at the door of the room next to the one +he occupied, and after a moment or two turned the handle; put the door +was locked. Disappointed, he returned to his own room, and wandered +about it in a restless, uncertain manner, as if, being alone, he did +not know what to do. Every now and then he came near to the bottle, +and sometimes turned his head resolutely from it, and sometimes could +not resist the temptation of gazing at it. "No," he said aloud once, +as if answering some inward questioning or argument; "no; I promised +Lizzie I wouldn't, and I won't. What is this?" He had laid the bottle +on a piece of folded paper, containing a key. "The key of her room. +Good girl, good girl!" He took his candle, and went into Lizzie's +room. It was in every respect more comfortable than his own, although +the furniture, with the exception of a smart little sewing-machine, +was of the same humble kind. There were two or three cheap ornaments +on the mantelshelf, the table could boast of a cover, and a carpet was +laid down which nearly covered the floor. "She can't have gone out +long," said Muzzy, who, having no one else to talk to, talked to +himself, in defiance of an old-fashioned proverb not very +complimentary to such self-communings. "She knew I would be home soon, +and thought I should like to sit here." On the table were some +needlework and a workbox, and behind the door hung a dress, which +Muzzy touched with his hand, as the most civilising influence within +his reach. A picture an the wall evidently possessed a fascination for +him, and presently he sat gazing at it, dreamily. It was the picture +of a woman's face, fair and comely, and the eyes seemed to follow his +as he gazed; but the reflections raised by the contemplation were not +pleasant ones, and he rose and walked about in the same restless, +uncertain manner. Soon he was in his own room again, and the bottle +was in his hand uncorked. "I could have kept from it if she had been +here," he muttered; "but how can I when I am alone--alone?" He +repeated the word two or three times with desolate distinctness. +"Alone--alone--always alone until she came! What should I do if she +went away? And she may--she may. That young fellow who comes to see +her so often--who is he, who is he? I wish he was dead, I mustn't go +into the room when he's there--Lizzie hasn't told me so, but I know I +mustn't. And there they sit, laughing and talking----Laughing and +talking! No, not always. He made her cry once; I heard her. I'll ask +Lizzie who he is. If he wants to take her away, I'd like to kill +him--secretly, secretly!" The feeble old man scowled as he said this, +and mechanically took a glass from the cupboard, and poured some gin +in it. But a restraining influence was upon him even then, and he did +not immediately raise it to his lips. "I promised her I wouldn't," he +said; "I swore I'd give it up. But how can I when I have no one to +talk to? So old a friend too; so old a friend! I should have gone mad +without it many a time. I'll take one drop--just one little drop. But +she mustn't know--she mustn't know." Looking round warily, he, swiftly +and with a secret air, drained the glass, and immediately afterwards +endeavoured to assume an unconsciousness that he had broken his +promise and his oath. But although presently he took a second draught +in the same secret manner, it was evident that he could not quite +satisfy his conscience, for he pushed the empty glass from him, +retaining the bottle in his hand. "What made me buy it? I didn't +intend to, and didn't intend to pass the public house; but I got there +somehow, and I couldn't resist going in. It seemed to draw me to it. +But it'll be my ruin, my ruin, my ruin! The governor said it would, +and it will." As he sat there, battling with himself, his deeply-lined +face and his thin hair straggling over his forehead, did he have no +ambition, no aspiration, no hope, outside the walls of brick which +formed his home? This Lizzie of whom he spoke was, according to his +own showing, not an old friend. Had he any other link of love, or had +other human affection quite died out of his life? It was hard to tell. +It seemed that, but for this girl, to whom he was not linked by ties +of blood, his life was colourless, purposeless. But every living +breast contains a smouldering fire, and even to this old man, wreck as +he was, a spark might come to kindle once more into a flame the fire +that must have burned when he was young. Supposing him to have been +bright and handsome in his youth--as he must have been, despite his +worn and almost hopeless face--how, could he have seen it, would he +have received a vision of the future which showed him truthfully what +he was to be in years to come? A vision of some sort was upon him now, +as, sitting with no purpose in his mind, he fell into a doze. From +which, after the lapse of a few moments, which seemed to him hours, he +awoke with a bewildered air, and looked about him, and listened +wonderingly for voices which he might have heard in his dream, or as +if the dead past had cast up its ghosts, and he had seen them. He saw +something more tangible as he raised his eyes to the door, and +recognised his governor, Mr. David Sheldrake. The bottle was still in +Muzzy's hand, and he tried to put it out of sight as he rose to +welcome his most unexpected visitor. + +"Surprised to see me, eh, Muzzy!" exclaimed Mr. Sheldrake, in an easy +tone. + +"You're welcome, sir, you're welcome," said Muzzy, his looks +contradicting his words. "Anything wrong, sir?" + +"No, old man, don't be alarmed; there's nothing wrong." + +Mr. Sheldrake was smartly dressed, and presented quite a gay +appearance in his cut-away velvet coat and his cane and fashionable +hat, and with his moustaches carefully curled. He did not remove his +hat, but looked round upon the room and its poor furnishings +superciliously, with the air of a suzerain; and looked also at Muzzy +with more than usual interest. + +"Will you take a seat, sir?" asked Muzzy humbly, and with inward +trepidation; for any occurrence out of the usual run of things filled +him with fear. + +Mr. Sheldrake seated himself by the table and took up the empty glass. +"Been drinking, Muzzy?" + +"No, sir, no," replied Muzzy, striving to look Mr. Sheldrake in the +face as he told the untruth, but failing most signally. "I've given it +up, sir, I've given it up." + +Mr. Sheldrake smiled and nodded, as much as to say, "I know you are +lying, but it's of no consequence;" and said aloud, with another +disparaging look round the apartment, "Not a very handsome lodging, +old man." + +"As good as I can afford, sir," said Muzzy. + +"You sly old dog," said Mr. Sheldrake merrily; "it's my opinion you +have a pot of money put by somewhere." + +"No, sir, indeed, sir, no; if I had, I should live in a better place +than this." + +"A flower, eh?" taking up the flower which Muzzy had bought for +Lizzie. "You amorous old dog! What lady fair is this for?" + +"For a friend who lives in the next room." + +"I thought you told me you had no friends," said Mr. Sheldrake, with a +swift but searching glance at Muzzy's drooping form. + +"More I have, sir; only this one, a good girl who tidies up my place, +and cooks a bit for me now and then. I told you the truth, sir. I have +not known her long." + +"Can she hear us talk, this charmer of yours?" + +"She's not at home, sir." + +"But if she came in quietly--women are sly ones, some of them; like +cats--could she hear us?" + +"No, sir, not when the door is shut." + +Mr. Sheldrake rose and closed the door. + +"Now, Muzzy, let's to business." + +"Yes, sir." + +"I haven't come here for nothing to-night, old man. You're getting too +old for the work at the office----" + +"Don't say that, sir," implored Muzzy; "don't say that!" + +"Don't put yourself in a flurry old man. We want younger heads than +yours now; they're looking sharper after us than they used to do, and +in the case of a blow-up they'd frighten all sorts of things out of +you. The fact is, we're going to break up the office here, and start a +new one in Scotland. But I've something better in view for you, if I +thought I could depend upon you." + +"Don't think, sir; be sure. I'll do anything you tell me. You'll find +the old man faithful to the last. I didn't think you'd throw me off, +sir; you're not that sort." + +"I suppose you would be faithful, as it would be for your interest to +be so. You'd go to the dogs fast enough if I threw you off. And if I +thought you were not to be trusted----" + +Mr. Sheldrake did not finish his speech, but he had said enough to +strike terror to Muzzy, who sat before him shaking and trembling with +fear. + +"I asked you," continued Mr. Sheldrake, after a sufficient pause, "a +little while ago if it was possible you could keep sober were it worth +your while." + +"I remember, sir." + +"And you told me, as you told me just now, that you had given up +drink." + +Muzzy's only answer was a frightened, nervous look. + +"Look here, old man," exclaimed Mr. Sheldrake sternly, "once and for +all--no more of your lies to me. You've been drinking to-night. I saw +you hide the bottle as I came into the room." + +"There's no concealing anything from you, sir," said Muzzy, in an +imploring tone. "I felt lonely, and I _did_ buy a little--not much, +upon my soul, sir!--and I tried to keep from it, but wasn't quite +able. If Lizzie had been here----" + +"Lizzie?" + +"The girl in the next room, sir. If she had been at home I shouldn't +have tasted a drop. But what can an old man do, in such a place as +this, with not a soul to speak to? It is a terrible lonely life, sir, +and grows worse and worse as one grows older. If I wasn't afraid, I'd +kill myself, but I'm frightened of death--I'm frightened of death." + +Muzzy shook and shuddered and raised his feeble hand; had he been +alone, with this fear upon him, he would undoubtedly have emptied his +bottle of gin in a very short time. Mr. Sheldrake, with an air of +thoughtfulness, lit a cigar, and slowly paced the room for a few +moments. Pausing before the trembling old man, he said, + +"This girl Lizzie, how old is she?" + +"About eighteen I should say, sir; but I don't exactly know." + +"Where are her parents?" + +"She has none, sir." + +"Does she live alone?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"How does she get her living?" + +"By the sewing-machine, sir; and sometimes goes out to work." + +The sound of laughing voices on the stairs stopped this +cross-examination. A look of astonishment flashed into the eyes of Mr. +Sheldrake. + +"Who's that?" he asked abruptly. + +"It must be Lizzie," answered Muzzy; "no one else but her and me lives +on this floor." + +"Come and listen--quick! Come and listen!" + +In his impatience he almost dragged Muzzy to the door. The persons +outside were laughing and talking on the landing. + +"Yes, it is Lizzie," said the old man. + +"And the other?" questioned Mr. Sheldrake, with strange eagerness. +"The other, who is he?" + +An expression of displeasure, almost of envy, passed across Muzzy's +face. "It's a young man who comes to see her sometimes." + +"Her lover?" Muzzy did not reply, and Mr. Sheldrake demanded again +impatiently, "Her lover?" + +"I suppose so," answered Muzzy reluctantly; "it looks like it." + +"Do you know him--what is he like?" + +"I haven't seen him, but I know his voice; I hear it often enough." + +Mr. Sheldrake laughed--a triumphant, self-satisfied laugh, as if he +had made a gratifying discovery. By this time the persons outside had +entered Lizzie's room; the listeners heard the door close. + +"Muzzy, old man," cried Mr. Sheldrake heartily; but he checked himself +suddenly, and opening the door, stepped quietly into the passage, and +listened to the voices in Lizzie's room. Returning with a beaming +face, he repeated, "Muzzy, old man! the time has come for you to turn +over a new leaf." + +"I am quite ready, sir," acquiesced Muzzy, without the slightest +consciousness of his patron's meaning. + + + + + CHAPTER XX. + + AN UNEXPECTED PROPOSITION. + + +But although the tone of Muzzy's acquiescence in the turning over of a +new leaf was almost abject, his manner denoted inward disturbance. His +restless eyes became more restless in the endeavour to look steadily +into Mr. Sheldrake's face, and his lips twitched nervously as he +passed the back of his hand across them with the air of one who is +thirsty. The sudden interest which Mr. Sheldrake exhibited in Lizzie +and her lover was evidently distressing to him, and he waited +anxiously for an explanation. Mr. Sheldrake did not notice these +symptoms; he was too much engrossed in his own musing, the +satisfactory nature of which was evidenced by the bright look he +turned upon Muzzy. + +"This girl, this Lizzie," he said, following the current of his +thoughts, "who has no parents----she has none?" + +"None, sir." + +"Must find it dull work living up in a garret by herself." + +"Lizzie is happy enough," said Muzzy; "I have never heard her +complain; she is a good girl, sir." + +"Doubtless; but nevertheless would jump at the opportunity of living +in a pretty detached house in the suburbs, say in St. John's-wood or +Kensington, or better still near to the river--a pretty house, cosily +furnished, with a garden round it. How would that suit you, old man?" + +Muzzy stared in amazement at his employer, who continued gaily, + +"Respectably dressed, living a quiet respectable life, as a widower, +say with an only child, a daughter----" + +"Sir!" exclaimed Muzzy, rising in his agitation. + +"Steady, old man! A daughter ready-made, Lizzie the charmer--what can +be better? If you object to father and daughter say uncle and niece; +it will serve the purpose equally well. Fifty neat stories can be made +up to suit the case, if there is need of explanation. Of course it +will not be kept secret that the man who enables you to do this is Mr. +David Sheldrake--that he is your best friend--and that in your +declining days (excuse me for referring to the unpleasant fact) you +owe it to him that you are enabled to live in ease and comfort." + +"I don't understand, sir." + +"It isn't so very difficult, either. I want a place where I can come +for an hour's quiet now and again, and where my friends would be +welcome. You have served me well up to this point----" + +"I have tried to do so, sir," murmured Muzzy. + +"And in serving me well, have served yourself at the same time. +Continue to do so, but ask no questions, and don't look a gift horse +in the mouth." (This was somewhat sternly spoken; for notwithstanding +Muzzy's humble acquiescence in his employer's plans, there was +something in his manner that did not please Mr. Sheldrake.) "I may +have a purpose to serve in what I propose, and I may not. That is my +business. The prospect I open out to you is not an unpleasant one. It +is better than the workhouse." (Muzzy shivered.) "I will put you in +such a house as I have described, where you may enjoy the comforts of +a home, instead of living the pig's life you are living now. But only +on the understanding, mind you, that Lizzie lives with you." (The same +increased restlessness in Muzzy's eyes, the same nervous twitching of +his lips, the same action of his hand across his parched mouth, were +observable in Muzzy's manner, at this fresh reference to Lizzie.) +"Tell her that a stroke of good fortune has fallen to you suddenly, +and that you owe it to me to give or to withhold. Ask her to share +your home as your daughter or your niece. You want nothing from her. +If she wishes to continue her needlework, let her do so; it will +be a pleasanter place to do it than here, and it will keep her in +pocket-money. As for you, I promise that you shall not be quite idle; +for I intend to pay you your salary, besides keeping the house, and +you must do something to earn it. I daresay we shall start a new firm, +at the new address, one, say, that undertakes discretionary +investments--a good game, old man" (this with a laugh)--"and so shall +manage to pay expenses. Then if you like to do a little private +betting on your own account, you can do so. You may make a hit with +that system of yours which you say you have discovered." + +"I could make a fortune, sir," cried Muzzy eagerly, "a fortune, if I +had a little money to speculate with." + +"So that's settled," said Mr. Sheldrake easily, "and you can speak to +Lizzy to-night." + +But Muzzy's diversion from the cause of his uneasiness was only +momentary. + +"I thank you, sir," he said, hesitating over his words, "for all this. +Whatever position you place me in, I shall endeavour to serve you +faithfully." + +"It will be your interest to do so," was the masterful rejoinder, "or +something unpleasant might happen." + +"But I want to ask you----" + +"I told you not to ask questions, old man," interrupted Mr. Sheldrake, +with a frown. + +"I must ask you this one," said Muzzy, with a courage which surprised +even himself. + +"If you must, you must. What is it?" + +"Lizzie's a good girl, sir." + +"Who said she wasn't?" + +"She has been almost a daughter to me, sir. I have lived a lonely life +for many, many years, until she took the room next to me, and then +after a little while everything seemed changed. If you were to ask me +who in the whole world I would sooner serve than any other, I would +mention her--excepting you, sir, of course." + +"What are you driving at, old man?" + +"Rather than any harm should come to her through me, I would never see +her again. I would go away. And you don't know, sir, what it is to +live alone; to feel that you are growing older and older, and to be +tormented with bad dreams and bad fancies; and not to have one person +in the world to give you a smile or a cheerful word." + +"Drives you to drink, eh?" + +"What else can a lonely man do, sir?" + +"That's just the reason I'm offering you this chance with Lizzie, and +just the reason why you should jump at it. But you haven't asked me +your question yet." + +Muzzy could not for a few moments muster sufficient courage to put it; +but at last he said in an imploring tone, + +"You don't mean any harm to Lizzie, sir?" + +Mr. Sheldrake laughed loud and laughed long; he seemed to be relieved +from an embarrassment by Muzzy's question. + +"Why, man," he said boisterously, "I've never set eyes on this charmer +of yours, so how can I mean any harm to her? Nay, more; I should not +have the slightest objection to this lover of hers who's chatting with +her now visiting her at the house----" + +"I don't want him there," cried Muzzy jealously. + +"He'll come, depend upon it, old man. Why, Muzzy, if you were not too +old to play the lover, I should say you were jealous. Let the +youngsters alone; let them enjoy themselves. You were young yourself +once, and I've no doubt played the gay Lothario often enough. Let me +see--Muzzy means Musgrave, doesn't it?" + +"That's my name, sir." + +"Well, Mr. Musgrave, I'll wish you good-night. You can report progress +to me at the office to-morrow. Show me a light." + +Muzzy waited on his patron with the candle until Mr. Sheldrake was out +of the house; then listened for a moment in the passage to ascertain +if Lizzie's companion was still with her, and hearing the sound of +conversation, returned to his room, leaving the door ajar. The +prospect opened to him by Mr. Sheldrake was very pleasant. A house in +the suburbs, with a garden, and with Lizzie for a companion--it was +paradise. "I should like to live by the riverside," he thought; then +looked at his shabby clothes, and at his worn face in a cracked +looking-glass, and wondered whether Mr. Sheldrake was really in +earnest. "I never saw him so serious as he was to-night," he muttered. +"He has some new money-making scheme in his head, and he wants the old +man's assistance. Yes, that is it. I thought at first that he meant +harm to Lizzie; and rather than that, rather than that----" he thought +out the alternative, still looking in the glass. "As father and +daughter," he said. "Father and daughter!" What memories of the past +did those words conjure up? If any, not pleasant ones. For he sighed +and grew more thoughtful, and, letting the glass slide upon the table, +covered his eyes with his hand, and looked through the darkness into +the time gone by. Into life's seasons. Spring, when the buds were +coming. Yes. Summer, when the buds had blossomed. No. The leaves +withered as they grew. Autumn. Cold, despairing, cheerless. Winter. It +was winter now, and no sweet winds came from the time gone by to +temper the bleak present. His musings were disturbed by the opening of +Lizzie's door. "Good night," he heard the man say. "Good night," +Lizzie replied, in a pleasant voice. Silence then, for a few moments; +and then Lizzie's voice asking in the passage, + +"Daddy, are you awake?" + +"Yes, Lizzie; come in." + + + + + CHAPTER XXI. + + LIZZIE TELLS A VERY SIMPLE STORY. + + +Smiling youth and wasted age stood gazing at each other for a moment. +The girl's cheeks were flushed; bright happiness danced in her eyes. +She came like a sunbeam into the room; joyous light and life +irradiated from her. + +She was a picture of neatness and prettiness; she was dressed in a +pretty-coloured stuff dress, and a piece of blue ribbon round her +neck, to which a locket was attached, gave the slightest suspicion of +coquettishness to her appearance. She held a candlestick in her hand, +but the candle in it was not lighted. Although she stood still for a +brief space, gazing at the old man, her thoughts were not upon him +There was a listening look in her face, and as she raised her hand she +murmured, "I wonder! I wonder!" and said aloud in soft tones, + +"May I look out of your window, daddy?" + +Muzzy's window looked upon the street. Lizzie, not waiting for +permission, went to the window, and looked out, and stood there in +silence so long, that Muzzy shuffled to her side. He saw nothing, +however, for the form which Lizzie had been watching was out of sight. +If she had spoken her thoughts, the words would have been: "The dear +fellow! It does my heart good to see him linger about the house. I +used to see that with Mary, and Mary used to watch through the blind." +(Here, to be faithful to her musings, would have come a laugh that was +almost a whisper--like a ripple on a lake--like a gurgling stream +dancing down a hill.) "He turned back three times to look at the +house. Now, if he had known that I was here, he wouldn't have gone +away for a long time. How handsome he is!" + +A deeper flush was in her cheek, and her eyes sparkled still more +brightly, as with a happy sigh she turned from the window to Muzzy, +who was standing by her side. + +"You got my key, daddy?" she said. + +"Yes, my dear, thank you." + +"Did you come home early?" + +"At about ten o'clock, my dear." + +"Did you see any one? Did anybody ask for me?" + +"Nobody asked of me, Liz. You expected somebody, then?" + +"O, no; but I wish I had been at home." + +She dismissed the subject with a light shake of the head, and said, +smiling, + +"You've had company, daddy." + +"Yes, my dear," he replied, with a wistful look at her pretty face--a +strangely jealous look, too, which seemed to imply that he would have +been better pleased if she were a little less bright. + +"Nice company?" she asked. + +"A gentleman--one who has been kind to me." + +She nodded with conscious grace, and stood before the old man with an +assertion of prettiness upon her which heightened the contrast between +her graceful person and his unattractive form. Not that the contrast +was in her mind; she did not think of it, but it would have been +forced upon an observer. + +"We heard you talking," she said. + +"You have had company also, Lizzie." + +"O, yes." With a blush and a smile. + +"We heard _you_ talking, my dear." + +"I suppose we made a great noise; Some One talks very loud sometimes." + +"You did not make a noise, my dear, but we heard you. Lizzie," he +said, as if the thought had just occurred to him, "your candle was out +when you came in." + +"It went out in the passage, daddy." + +"Or some one blew it out, Lizzie." + +"Yes; perhaps--Some One--did." With the pleasantest little laugh in +the world. + +"Preferring to talk in the dark," he suggested, in a singular tone of +discontent. + +"Yes; perhaps--Some One--does." + +Again the pleasant little laugh. That, which was like music, and her +joyous happy manner, and her clear voice and pretty ways, made a home +of the otherwise lonely room. + +"We have been to the theatre to-night," she said; "Some One and me. I +should like to be an actress. I think I should have made a good one." + +She let her hair fall loose as she spoke, and put on an arch look to +provoke a favourable verdict. Muzzy's hitherto dull mood brightened +under her influence. + +"What theatre did you go to, my dear?" + +"To the Olympic. We saw Daisy Farm. Isn't it a pretty name? Now, one +would fancy that everybody was happy at Daisy Farm, because of the +name; but it wasn't so. They were all in trouble until the end of the +play, and then something very unexpected happened, and everything came +right. Is it so in real life?" + +"I don't think so." + +"But it's nice in a play. I wonder how ever they can cram such a lot +of things in a couple of hours; and it all seems so natural! There was +one part that Some One did not like; it was where a young man who had +been doing wrong--stealing money from his master--robbed his own +father (as we all thought he was), so that he could put the money +back. Some One got regularly excited over it; but it turned out that +the man he robbed wasn't his father, so _that_ was all right. When +that was shown and the young man got off, Some One clapped so, that +everybody looked at him. He lost his sweetheart, though." + +"Who?" + +"The young man in the play. As we were walking home, I said to Some +One, 'Supposing that was you, would you have liked to lose your +sweetheart in that way?' He turned quite white at the idea, and he +looked at me so strangely, and said, 'But you wouldn't throw me off as +that heartless girl did in the play, would you, Lizzie?' I said, 'No; +that I wouldn't.' 'Not even if I was as bad as that young fellow?' +asked Some One, to try me. And then I said----But you can guess what I +said, daddy. I don't think I'm a changeable girl, like some." + +"Come and sit down, Lizzie," said Muzzy; "I want to talk to you." + +The girl obeyed, and as Muzzy did not immediately speak, she fell +a-musing. Sweet thoughts were hers evidently, for presently the laugh +that was like music came from her, evoked by something pleasant that +she had seen or heard in her fancies. The sound aroused her, and +looking up she saw Muzzy holding out the flower he had brought home +for her. + +"For you, Liz." + +"O, thank you, dad." + +She held it up by the side of her hair to admire it, and asked how it +looked there. Out of his full-hearted admiration of her pretty ways he +had but one answer, of course. Then she placed it in the bosom of her +dress, which was slightly open at the throat, and as the leaves +touched her fair akin, she looked down and smiled both on the flower +and herself. + +"Some One would be jealous," she said, "if he saw it there; especially +after what he brought me to-night. Wait a minute; I'll show you." + +She ran out of the room, and returned with a large bunch of flowers, +fresh and fragrant like herself. + +"Are they not beautiful? Am I not a lucky girl? Just think! Two +presents of flowers in one night!" + +"Mine is a poor one, Lizzie." + +"It is very pretty, and I shall put it in water all by itself." + +She selected a flower from the bunch, and placed it in her bosom by +the side of the other; then bent down until her lips touched it. + +"You are fond of flowers, my dear." + +"I love everything that is bright. I like to bury my face in them, +like this, and shut my eyes, and think. Such beautiful thoughts come!" + +Suiting the action to the word, she buried her face in the flowers, +and saw pictures of the future as she wished it to be. It was filled +with sweet promise, as it nearly always is to youth. And if fulfilment +never comes, the dreams bring happiness for the time. + +"Try!" she said, raising her face and holding out the flowers to him. + +To please her, he closed his eyes among the leaves. But the visions +that came to his inner sense of sight were different from those +she had seen. For her the future. For him the past. The clouds +through which he looked were dark and sombre; and as glimpses of +long-forgotten times flashed through them, he sighed as one might have +sighed who, wandering for a generation through a strange country +filled with discordant and feverish circumstance, finds himself +suddenly in a place where all is hushed, and where the soft breeze +brings to him the restful sound of sweet familiar bells. But darker +clouds soon rolled over these memories, blotting them out. + +"Lizzie," he said "suppose you had the chance of living away from the +dusty streets in a pretty little house, surrounded by the flowers you +love so well!" + +"How delightful!" she exclaimed, with her face among the flowers +again. + +"Open your eyes, Lizzie, while I speak." + +"Wait a minute, daddy. Don't speak for sixty seconds. I'm looking at +the house." + +Muzzy remained silent until she spoke again. + +"I see it," she said, "peeping out among the flowers. It is built of +old red brick, the windows are very small, and vines are creeping all +over the walls." + +Thus did her fancy reproduce for her the picture of a country house, +which doubtless she had seen at one time or another. Even when she +opened her eyes, she saw the vision hanging, as it were in the clouds +of a bright memory. + +"How would you like to live in such a house, Liz?" + +"How would I like to live in a rainbow?" was her merry rejoinder. + +"But what I say I mean, my dear." + +"And what I say I don't--that is, sometimes. Do you really, really +mean it though, dad?" + +"Yes, my dear. The gentleman who was with me to-night--a good +friend--has opened out such a prospect to me." + +"O, I am so glad; for this isn't very nice for you!" she said, +glancing round the room. + +"Nor for you, my dear," he replied, looking wistfully at her. "Don't +you wish for something better?" + +"I wish for a great many things--holidays, new dresses, and new +hats--and I should like a good deal of money. If fifty pounds were +to tumble down the chimney now, shouldn't we be surprised? Ah, but +what's the use of wishing, daddy!" + +"You may have some of these things, Liz, if you like." His serious +manner made her more serious and attentive. "Such a house as you saw +just now you may have, perhaps. It depends upon you whether I accept +the offer that has been made to me to-night." + +"Upon me!" she exclaimed. + +"Do you remember what I was when you first came here?" + +"Why, the same as you are now," she replied, with a laughing evasion +of what he was referring to. + +"No, my dear," he said humbly, taking her hand in his; "I was a lonely +miserable man. There was no light in my life. I used to come home +night after night, and drink." + +She placed her fingers on his lips, to stop the farther confession; +but he gently removed them. + +"I had nothing else to do. Bad fancies used to come, and I drank to +drive them away; and the more I drank, the worse they became. I don't +know what might have been the end of me. This room used to be full of +terrible shadows creeping over the walls. I saw them in the dark, +stealing upon me. One night, when these fancies were upon me, driving +me almost mad--how long ago was it, Lizzie?--I heard a little voice +singing in the next room. I didn't know any one had moved in until I +heard your voice, and I crept into the passage and listened to you, my +dear, and blessed you--ay, I did Lizzie! and I fell asleep with your +singing in my ears." + +"And I came out," she said, humouring him, "and saw you." + +"And saw me, and pitied me," he continued. "I wonder you were not +afraid. You came into my room, and saw the bottle on the table; there +was liquor in it, and you asked me if you might take it away, and I +said Yes. Then you tidied up the room, and made the bed, and I sat +wondering at your goodness, and wondering why the shadows didn't come +while you were with me. That was the commencement of it, Lizzie; and +so we became friends, and my life was not so desolate as it used to. +You brightened it for me, by dear." + +"No, it wasn't me, daddy; it was yourself--it was leaving off +that----that----" + +"Drink," he added, as he hesitated. "It was driving me mad!" + +"And you have left it off, daddy, and that's the reason why you are +better and happier." + +"Yes, Lizzie," he said, with a guilty look at her, for the flat +bottle, half filled with gin, was in his pocket as he spoke. "I have +kept my promise." + + +"So it's not me, after all," she exclaimed merrily, "that you have to +thank." + +"It is you, Lizzie. If it were not for you, I should go back to my old +ways again; it is only you who keep me from them. I know now what it +is to have some one to care for me; if I had known it before--O, if I +had known it before! If when we were young, we could see what was +before us!" + +"Have you never had any one care for you, daddy?" she asked pityingly. + +"Don't ask me, child. I mustn't look back--I daren't look back. But it +seems to me, Lizzie, that I never knew how dreadful a lonely life was +until you came and showed me the misery of it. I cannot leave you now, +Lizzie; I should become I am frightened to think what." + +His voice, his hands, his whole body trembled as he pleaded for +companionship, for protection from his torturing fancies. She was his +shelter, and he clung to her. His manhood had been like a ship tossed +amidst storms, overhung by dark clouds, battered and bruised by sunken +reefs. Suddenly a rift of light appeared, and the old worn ship +floated into peaceful waters, and lay there with an almost painful +sense of rest upon it--painful because of the fear that the light +might vanish as suddenly as it had appeared, and the storm break +again. + +"What is it you want me to do, daddy?" + +"To come and live with me, my dear, if I am fortunate enough to get +this house, where there will be rest; to share my home, as my +daughter." + +"As your daughter!" (Very, very softly spoken, musingly, wonderingly. +The turning over of a new leaf, indeed, for her who had never known a +father's love.) "Does _he_ know of this--your friend?" + +"It was he who suggested it when I spoke of you. He proposed it for my +sake." + +"It is kind of him; he must have a noble nature. But I don't know, +daddy, I don't know!" + +"Don't know what, my dear?" + +"Whether you would be pleased with me--whether you would be as fond of +me as you are now. Ah, you smile, but you might be mistaken in me. I +like to have my own way, and I am ill-tempered when I don't. Then, you +know, Some One must come and see me." + +"If you say so, my dear," he humbly assented, "I can't object." + +"I think he would like it," she mused; "he is fond of nice things and +nice places." + +"Tell me, Lizzie--I have never asked, but I may, because I am an old +man--is Some One your sweetheart?" + +"Couldn't you guess that, daddy?" + +"Yes, my dear, but I wanted to be certain. Do you love him?" + +Shyly, tenderly, archly she looked at the old man, and answered him +with her eyes. They fell into silence for a little while after that, +the mind of each being occupied. +"You don't remember your father, Lizzy?" + +"No." + +"Your mother?" + +"No, I never saw her." + +"Have you any other friends besides Some One?" + +"Yes, there's Mary, and my best friend, my aunt. She has been very +kind to me, and must come and see me too. Indeed, I must ask her +permission, for she has been like a mother to me. Mother! ah, to have +a good kind mother to love, and who loves you--what happiness! I have +dreamt of it often--have wished that such a happiness was mine. But it +never was, daddy--never, never was, and never, never can be!" + +"Lizzie," he said timidly, "tell me something of your life before I +knew you." + +In their new relations towards each other she had seated herself at +his feet. Her hands were clasped in her lap, and her eyes were towards +the flowers in her breast. Graceful as the leaves of the flowers was +this young girl; not more delicate was their colour than the colour in +her face. The tender contact of this fresh young life was a new +revelation to him, and he held his breath for fear he should awake and +find that he was dreaming. + +"Of my life!" she mused, speaking more to herself than to him. "What +can I remember? How young was I as I see myself, in my first +remembrance, playing with two other children in a field near the house +in which I lived? Two years, or a little more. The house belonged to +Mrs. Dimmock, and I did not know then that she was not my mother; but +as I grew I learned--I don't know how; it wasn't told me, but the +knowledge came--that the little girls I played with were not my +sisters, although they were her children. Mrs. Dimmock was not a very +kind woman, at least not to me. She would pet and fondle her own +children, and I used to cry in secret because of it, and because she +did not love me as she did them. My aunt came to see me often, and +often brought me toys and sweets. If she had been my mother she could +not have been kinder to me, but then of course I should have lived +with her. She saw that I fretted because it wasn't the same with me as +it was with the other children, and she tried in every way to make up +for it; but she couldn't. What I wanted was a mother that I could love +with all my heart, and who could love me with all hers--as Mrs. +Dimmock loved her children, although she was harsh and unkind to me. +My aunt did not know that she did not treat me well; I didn't tell +her. When I grew up, I went to a day-school, and learnt other things +besides reading and writing; I think it was in that way, trying to +make me superior to other girls, that my aunt endeavoured to lessen +any sorrow I may have felt. I can play the piano, daddy--you wouldn't +have thought that, would you! Mrs. Dimmock was jealous, I could see, +because I was learning more than her girls; and the girls, too, didn't +like it. I think it was partly maliciousness on my part that made me +proud to know more than they did; if they had been kind to me, I +shouldn't have cared to triumph over them in that way. Well, +everything went on so until I was fourteen years of age, when one +day something occurred. I hadn't been expected home so soon; the +street-door was open, and as I went into the passage I heard my aunt +and Mrs. Dimmock speaking together, and from my aunt's voice I guessed +that she was crying. 'I can't help your misfortunes,' Mrs. Dimmock +said; 'I've got children of my own, and I must look after them first. +I'm keeping the girl now for less than her food costs; she eats more +than my two girls put together.' I knew that she meant me by 'the +girl,' and I turned hot and cold, for I felt like a charity girl. Mrs. +Dimmock spoke very spitefully, and I knew that she did so because I +gave myself superior airs over her daughters. I daresay it was wrong +of me to do so, but I couldn't help it, they were such mean things! +One of them let a girl in school be beaten for something that she did, +and I knew it. But we used to quarrel about all sorts of things, and +of course Mrs. Dimmock always took their parts, so that you may guess, +daddy, I was not very happy. I heard sufficient of the conversation +between my aunt and Mrs. Dimmock to make me tingle all over. It served +me right, for listeners never _do_ hear any good of themselves; but it +was as well I did hear, notwithstanding, as you will see presently. My +aunt was in arrears for my board and lodging, and she was compelled to +hear patiently--for my sake, I felt it!--all the hard things that Mrs. +Dimmock said to her. 'I shall be able to pay you by and by,' my aunt +said, O, so humbly! 'I can't afford to wait till by and by, ma'am,' +Mrs. Dimmock answered, 'and I can't live on promises--they're like +pie-crusts, made to be broken. It is a shame that such a big girl as +her should be eating charity bread.' Just think, daddy, how I felt +when I heard that! 'If she can't pay for her bread-and-butter, let her +work for it, if she ain't too fine and proud. If she wants to live on +charity, she must go somewhere else and get it; I can't afford to give +it to her.' I think, daddy, that if I had been on fire, I. couldn't +have run out of the house faster than I did. I had an idea at first of +running clean away, but the thought of how kind my aunt had been to me +prevented me. Instead of that, I watched for her, and saw her come out +of the house and look anxiously about for me. She was always very +pale, but her face was whiter than I had ever seen it before. She +brightened up when she saw me, and I drew her a long way from the +house before I would let her talk. When she began, how I pitied her! +She couldn't get along at all, and would have gone away without +telling me anything, if I hadn't said that I was in the passage and +heard her and Mrs. Dimmock speaking together about me. She looked so +frightened when I told her, that I was frightened myself; she was +dreadfully anxious to know all that I had heard, and seemed to be +relieved that I hadn't heard any more. I supposed that Mrs. Dimmock +had been saying worse things of me than I had already heard, and I +wasn't sorry that I went out of the house when I did. 'And so you are +poor, aunty,' I said to her, 'and I have made you so!' 'No, my dear, +no, Lizzie, no, my darling!' she said eagerly. 'You haven't made me +so; I had enough, more than enough, and to spare, and I was putting by +money for you, my dearest, and saving up for you. But like a foolish +woman I put it into a bank, and they have robbed me and a thousand +other poor creatures. The bankers were thieves, my darling, thieves! +and there's no law to touch them, and I can't get my poor little bit +of money out of their pockets! I thought I should have gone mad when I +went yesterday, and found the place shut up; and it was no consolation +to me to find others that had been robbed hanging about the great +stone walls--for I thought: of you, darling, and I was too wretched to +feel for others.' I tried to console her. 'Never mind, aunt,' I said; +'you have been very, very kind to me, and I shall never be able to pay +you.' 'Yes, you can, my dearest,' she said, crying over me as I kissed +her; 'you are paying me now, over and over again.' Then I said I +wouldn't be a burden to her any longer, and that Mrs. Dimmock was +right when she said that I ought to work for my living. My aunt cried +more and more at this, and begged me not to think of it; but my mind +was made up. What was to become of me by and by, I thought, unless I +learnt to depend upon myself; and when Mrs. Dimmock the next day +said that I ought to go into service, I determined to try and be +something better than a servant. Well, I was very lucky, daddy. I set +my wits to work, and I heard that a woman who kept a little milliner's +shop wanted an apprentice. I went to her, and she was so pleased with +me that she agreed to take me into the house, and keep me, and teach +me the business. I was to be with her for four years, and I wasn't to +have any wages during the whole time. I served my time faithfully, and +my aunt gave me more than enough money to keep me in clothes. It +pleased her to see me look nice, and I liked it myself, daddy; I +like nice clothes and things! At the end of the four years, a friend +in the same business, Mary--you've heard me speak of her often, +daddy--proposed that we should live together; said that we could take +one room, which would be enough for us, and that we could get enough +work to keep us. There was something so delightful in the idea of +being my own mistress, that I jumped for joy at the proposal, and +without consulting my aunt I consented. We took a room very near here, +daddy, and paid six shillings a week for it. All this was done very +quickly, and then I wrote to my aunt to come and see me. She came, but +took it so much to heart that I should make so serious a change in my +life without consulting her, that I promised never to do anything of +the sort again without asking her advice. We were very comfortable +together that night, I remember, and she gave us our first order for +two black dresses. So Mary and me jogged along. Although our living +did not cost us much, we had to be very careful, as we could not earn +a great deal of money. Sometimes trade was slack, and we were without +work; but my aunt took care that I should always have a little money +in my purse. She came to see me more often than she used to do when I +was at Mrs. Dimmock's. I knew why. She was uneasy at the idea of two +girls living together; thought we couldn't take care of ourselves. +That's why, daddy, I think she would be glad to consent to my living +in the pretty little house you spoke of. It is almost too good to be +true, though. Is it really true?" + +"It is, my dear," replied Muzzy. + +"Then," continued Lizzie, "Mary got a sweetheart, which was nice for +me as well as for her, for he used to take us both out. Sometimes, you +know, daddy, I wouldn't go; I pretended that I was very busy, and had +a great deal to do--and they had to go out by themselves. Nearly +always when they came home I had a bit of supper ready for them; and +when Mary's sweetheart went away after supper, Mary used to peep +through the blind, and watch him standing in the street looking at +the house and up at the window as if he was so much in love with them +that he couldn't go away." + +"As you did to-night, Lizzie, when you came in." + +She gave him a sly happy look. + +"Yes, as I did to-night, daddy. I haven't much more to tell. Mary got +married, and then I came here to live, and that's the end of my +story." + +"That picture in your room," he said, "is the portrait of your aunt, I +suppose." + +"Yes, but you will scarcely recognise her by it when you see her. She +is not like the same woman. She has had some great trouble, I am sure, +although she never speaks of it. I have tried often to imagine what it +must have been, but I have never been able to find out." + +"And Mary--is she happy?" + +"O, yes, very, very happy. She will have a baby soon." + +A soft light stole into her face, and her fingers closed tenderly on +the locket hanging at her bosom. Muzzy noticed the action. "That's a +new locket, Lizzie." + +"Yes; Some One gave it to me. If I am to live with you as your +daughter, you ought to know his name." + +"What is it?" he asked, seeing that Lizzie expected him to take an +interest in her lover. + +"Alfred. Isn't it a nice name?" + +"Yes," he muttered, in a slightly troubled voice. + +She took the locket from her neck, and handed it to him. He opened it, +and gazed at it long and earnestly, and in deep silence. Perhaps it +was the prospect of the new life that was before him that caused him +to start when Lizzie addressed him presently, and to look around him +with the bewildered air of one suddenly aroused from sleep. + +"You are tired, daddy," she said, taking the locket from his hand; "it +is time to go to bed." + +He bade her good-night, almost mechanically, and when he was alone, +sank into his chair, with an oppression of vague thought upon him. +Long before he retired to rest, Lizzie was asleep, dreaming of her +Lover. + + + + + CHAPTER XXII. + + LOVE LINKS. + + +If integrity and upright conduct be commendable qualities, no man +should covet the distinction of being considered a man of the world. +And yet to be known as such is to command admiration. But then the +world--meaning ourselves--often finds it convenient not to examine too +curiously. The man of the world whose reputation rests upon a sound +foundation is sure to get the best of his neighbours. He is shrewd and +sharp and cunning, and, like the fretful porcupine, so armed at all +points as to be almost certain of wounding whatever comes in contact +with him. Frankness beams in his eye, but calculation sits in his +soul; he gets information out of you by side strokes, and profits by +it; he brings you round by the artfullest of roads to the point he is +working for; he pumps you dry so skilfully that you do not feel +thirsty in the process; and he leaves you under the impression that he +is the most amiable of companions. Fortunate it is for you if farther +experience of his amiability do not compel you, with groans, to +reverse this verdict. Attached to the popular interpretation of "man +of the world" are profound and puzzling depths. A man fails in +business, lifts up his eyes, looks mournfully around him, buys +sackcloth and ashes, sighs frequently, is soul-despondent, grows a +little shabby, meets his creditors, obtains his release, and, hey, +presto! smilingly re-enters, the circle from which he has been +temporarily banished--re-enters it calm and confident, with no sign of +defeat upon him. He is received with open arms, for it is whispered +that he has "means;" and if one says to another, "Is it not strange +that Mr. Plausible, who was in such difficulties last month, and was +supposed to be ruined, should be living now in such good style?" it is +ten to one that another answers, "He is a man of the world, sir, a +thorough man of the world;" and lifts his hat to Mr. Plausible, who +just at that moment happens to pass by. See the other side of the +picture. A man fails in business, is soul-crushed, looks mournfully +about him, shrinks from his former friends, grows old quickly, sits in +sackcloth and ashes, sinks down, down in the world, obtains his +release after bitter struggling, and never raises his head again; one +says to another, "Poor Mr. Straight! Regularly crushed, isn't he?" And +another answers, "What else could be expected? Straight never _was_ a +man of the world;" and turns his back upon the unfortunate, who, just +at that moment, happens to be coming towards them. To be a completely +successful man of the world, one must be thoroughly selfish, often +dishonest, often false, seldom conscientious, and the porcupine quills +which guard his precious interests must be well sharpened. If now and +then there is blood upon them, what matters? Blood is easily washed +off--but they say the smell remains. + +Mr. David Sheldrake was such a man. With his quills always sharpened +and often drawing blood, he walked through life enjoying its good +things, believing that when they did not come to him easily he had a +right to appropriate them. The lives of some men present singular +contradictions. Dishonest persons are often charitable and +kindly-hearted. Thoroughpaced rogues are often good husbands and good +fathers. Very few men see straight. Nearly every one of us has a moral +squint. Not that the career of Mr. Sheldrake presented any such +contradiction. If he had been married, he could not have been a good +husband; if he had had children, he could not have been a good father: +he was too selfish. He was one of those who never have stings of +conscience, simply because he believed that he had a right to have and +to enjoy whatever he desired. In his own class he was a triton among +the minnows. It was not a very desirable class, nor were its manners +and customs to be commended; the first grand aim of its members was +not to do unto others as you would others should do unto you, but to +do all others, and take care others should not do you. No form of +cheating and rascality was too bad for them, if an honest penny could +be turned by it; and it is a sad thing to be compelled to say that +even the honour that can be found among thieves was very seldom to be +found among them--thus showing their tribe to be special and +distinctive. It was but a poor game, after all, for the majority of +them; as can be seen by going to any race-course, and observing the +ragged crew who, while the horses are being saddled and taking their +preliminary canters, rush this way and that, and hustle each other, +and push and elbow their way fiercely, almost madly, through the +crowds of their excited brethren. Mr. Sheldrake was above this ragged +crew; he floated while others sank. As a proof of his respectability, +what better could be desired than the fact that he had been known to +shake hands with lords, and had betted ponies and monkeys with them? + +But, sharp and cunning as he was, armed at all points as he was, he +had his vulnerable point. What man has not? Do you know of one? I do +not. And you have but to find it out to shake the decorous owner from +his propriety. Archimedes would have shaken the world itself, had you +given him a convenient place for his lever and standing room for +himself. + +The weak spot in Mr. David Sheldrake's character was that he did not +like to be beaten. If he set his heart ever so lightly upon a thing +and found it difficult of accomplishment, he instantly grew earnest in +the pursuit of it, however trivial it might be. When he first saw Lily +in the Royal White Rose Music-hall he was attracted by her pretty +face, and he thought it could be no difficult matter to gain her +favour. He had been successful before--why not now? His free manners +and free purse had been an open sesame to sham affection before +to-day; they would not fail him with Lily. But although he paid her +pretty compliments in his softest tone, they did not produce the +impression he intended. Other girls had received such gratefully, and +had been merry with him; but Lily had no word of response for his +honeyed speech. She received his compliments in silence and with eyes +cast down. Little by little he discovered the difficulty of the task +he had almost unconsciously set himself, and the value of the prize +increased. He worked himself into a state of enthusiasm concerning +her, and tried to believe that his feeling was genuine. It was not +possible that a nature so purely selfish as his could love sincerely; +but it pleased him to set up sham sentiment in its place, and he said +to himself more than once, in tones of self-applauding satisfaction, +"I do believe, David, you love that little beauty." + +Lily knew nothing of this, for Mr. Sheldrake, after the futile result +of his first tender advances, became cautious in his behaviour to her; +he saw that there was danger of starting the game, and he went +roundabout to secure it. A shrewd worldly girl, in Lily's place, +would have seen at once that here were too lovers for her to choose +from--Felix and Mr. Sheldrake--and she might, had she been very +worldly, have worked one against the other; but Lily was neither +shrewd nor worldly. To elevate her to the position of a heroine is a +difficult task, for she had no marked qualities to fit her for the +distinction. She was not strong minded, nor wilful, nor hoydenish, nor +very far-seeing, nor very clever. She required to be led; she was not +strong enough to lead. She was capable of devotion, of much love, of +personal sacrifice, and was rich in the possession of the tenderest +womanly qualities--of those qualities which make the idea of woman +cherished in the innermost heart of every man whose good fortune it is +to have been associated at some time of his life with a loving tender +nature. Many a man has been kept pure by the memory of such an +association; and although the present and future generations may have +the advantage of those that have gone before in a more early +comprehension of practical matters, and in the possession of a keener +sense of the value of worldly things, it is much to be feared that the +good and tender influence of woman is on the wane, and that the idea +of womanly gentleness and purity, which has given birth to so much +that is beautiful in the best sense of the word, is dying in the light +of something infinitely coarser and less beneficial. We admire the +sunflower, but we love the daisy. + +Yes; Lily was dreaming. She had discovered her Prince in the person of +Felix. In her musings she made him the embodiment of all that was good +and noble and gentle. He was her hero, and she moulded him to her +fancy, and beautified him, and idealised him. She enshrined her +idealism in her heart of hearts, and found her greatest pleasure in +worshipping it. So do we all at some time of our lives set up images +for ourselves, and worship them, and discover too often, alas! that +the feet of our idols are made of clay. It must not be supposed that +Lily was fated to make this desolating discovery respecting Felix; he +was in every way worthy of the love of a pure-minded girl, of such a +love as Lily crowned him with, and as she was in every way capable of, +notwithstanding the vitiated atmosphere of the Royal White Rose +Music-hall. That she was enabled to retain, untarnished, the +simplicity of character which made her beautiful, was due no less to +her own innate purity than to the influence of her grandfather, who +from her infancy had watched and guarded her with jealous care. Lily +did not pause to ask herself if it was love she felt for Felix; she +was too contented with the present to analyse her feelings; happiness +took possession of her when he was with her, and it was sufficient for +her to sit and listen and silently worship. She delighted to hear the +unstinted praise which her grandfather bestowed upon Felix in his +absence, and she fed upon the words, secretly repeating them to +herself again and again, and finding new meanings for them. When she +read in book or paper of a generous-souled man, "Like Felix!" she +whispered; or of a generous deed performed, "As Felix would do!" she +whispered. Felix had no idea of the good things which were credited to +him--had no idea, indeed, that he was the idol of the girl whom he had +grown to love; for Lily kept her secret close, and only whispered it +to herself, and mused over it in those moments of solitude which she +made sacred by her thoughts. So time went on. + +Happy as she was in her dream, her wakeful life contained disturbing +elements. It distressed her to see a slow but steady estrangement +growing between her brother and her grandfather; it did not find +expression in open speech, but it was no less sure, notwithstanding. +In thinking of the matter, as she often did, Lily could not resolve +from which side the coldness first sprang. But it was certain that +Alfred steadily avoided his grandfather, and was uneasy in the old +man's society. Many times, when Lily and Alfred were conversing +together, and when Alfred perhaps was building castles in the air with +enthusiastic speech, the entrance of his grandfather drove him into +silence, or into monosyllabic answers to the old man's inquiries. He +resented the quietly-watchful manner with which the old man regarded +him on those occasions, and sometimes would leave the room suddenly +and fretfully. Up to this time the old man had avoided speaking to +Lily upon the subject. He knew how Lily loved her brother, and that +the growing estrangement would be made more painful to her by an +explanation of his fears. But although Old Wheels seemed to be not +satisfied with the progress Alfred was making, everything, to all +outward appearance, was prospering with the young man. Despite a worn +expression of anxiety which often stole into his features unaware, and +which he threw off resolutely immediately he became conscious of it, +his general manner was more cheerful and confident. He was more +extravagant in his habits, and dressed better. Lily was delighted at +this, but her grandfather did not share her delight. He found cause +for disturbing thought in these signs of prosperity. Alfred coming +home in a new suit of clothes caused him to remark, + +"Another new suit of clothes, Alfred!" + +"Yes, grandfather," was Alfred's reply, in a half-defiant, +half-careless tone. "Can't do without clothes, you know." + +"You had a new suit a very little while ago, Alfred." + +"Well, sir! I didn't come to you for the money to pay for them." + +The old man was always gentle in his manner, but Alfred took offence +even at this. It would have better pleased the young man if his +grandfather had openly quarrelled with him. + +"I hope you are not getting into debt, my boy." + +"Never fear, sir; I've paid for this suit, and the last one too." + +And Alfred avoided farther conversation by leaving the old man +abruptly. But to Lily he was more affectionate than ever, and spoke +glowingly of the future and of the great things he was about to +accomplish. + +"More than half the people in the world are fools," he said +arrogantly; "they walk about with their eyes shut." + +It was useless for Lily to ask him for the application of such trite +observations; he evaded her with light laughs, and, being much given +to slang, declared that he would "show some of them the road. You'll +see, Lily, one of these days; you'll see." + +She liked to hear him speak like this, for his manner at these times +was always bright and confident. She attempted on occasions to draw +him into conversation about the growing estrangement between him and +his grandfather; but he steadily refused to speak upon the subject, +farther than to say that "grandfather is not treating me well; he +suspects me of I don't know what, and it isn't likely that I'm going +to stand it." + +"Of what can he suspect you, Alfred?" asked Lily. + +"That's where it is. That's what I ask myself, for he never tells me. +The fact of it is, Lily, grandfather is an old man, and I'm a young +one. You can't put an old head on young shoulders, you know. I'm fond +of pleasure and of seeing a little bit of life. All young fellows are. +He'll confess himself wrong about me one of these days, and then it +will be all right. Until then I sha'n't bother myself about it, and +don't you. Perhaps I've a secret, and he wants to know it." + +"Have you a secret, Alfred? I thought you told me everything." + +"I only said 'perhaps,' Lily. I'll tell you by-and-by, when the proper +time comes." + +"Then you really have one. Come"--coaxingly, and with her arm round +his neck--"tell me, Alf, or shall I guess it?" + +He looked at her hesitatingly, as if half tempted to tell her, but he +resisted the inclination. + +"Not now, Lily, not now.--Everybody's got a secret, and perhaps--mind, +I only say perhaps--I've got mine. Girls have their secrets as well as +men. All except you, Lily. You haven't got one, I know; you wouldn't +keep a secret from me, I'll be bound." + +Lily blushed, and felt like a traitor, but she did not answer. She +almost guessed his secret, and was glad of it, for it was a new bond +of union between them. But as hers was sacred, so she felt his to be; +she kissed him tenderly, and, looking into his eyes, with all her +heart in hers, read something there it thrilled her to see. Then +Alfred showed her a new chain he had bought, and while she was +admiring it, Old Wheels entered the room. + +"Show it to grandfather, Alf," she said. + +But Alfred buttoned his coat, and said that grandfather didn't take +an interest in such things. He fretted, however, because the old man +glanced at him somewhat sadly and significantly, and very soon found +an excuse to leave. + +"Alfred goes out a great deal now, Lily," said Old Wheels. "Do you +know where he goes to?" + +"No," replied Lily, "but I suspect--I suspect!" with an arch glance at +her grandfather. + +"What do you suspect, my dear?" + +"You must guess for yourself, dear grandfather, for I know +nothing--nothing yet. But supposing--just supposing, grandfather--that +a young man has a portrait in his pocket which he looks at very often, +and won't let anybody else see for the world--that is a sign, isn't +it?" + +She asked this with a sly look into her grandfather's face; he was +silent for a while, and said presently, + +"Alfred has such a portrait, Lily?" + +"Perhaps," she said, in unconscious imitation of her brother; "mind, I +only say perhaps." + +A footfall on the stairs; a brighter flush on Lily's cheek; knock at +the door, and Felix entered. Happy moments followed. There was no lack +of conversation when these three were together. But Lily had her +duties to perform, and within an hour they were walking towards the +Royal White Rose, and Felix bade Lily good-night at the stage-door. + +"She sings early to-night," said Old Wheels, as they lingered near the +entrance to the hall, and watched the strangely-suggestive throng that +found their business or pleasure there. The words of a poet came to +Felix, and he murmured the lines, + + + + "In the street the tide of being, how it surges, how it rolls! + God what base ignoble faces God! what bodies wanting souls!" + + +But Old Wheels interrupted him with, + +"Not so, Felix; that is a poet's rhapsody, and not applicable here. +Look around you; you will see but few base ignoble faces. Some of them +might be taken as models for innocence, simplicity, guilelessness. See +here, and here." + +He indicated this girl and that, whose pretty features and the +expression on them served to illustrate his meaning. + +"No," he continued, "not bodies wanting souls. They are misguided, +ill-taught, misdirected, the unhappy ones of a system which seems to +create them and make them multiply. The light attracts them; they see +only the glitter, and do not feel the flame until they fly to it +gaily; when, bewildered and dazzled, they are burnt and die, or live +maimed lives for the rest of their days." + +"I did not quote those lines," said Felix, "with any distinct idea of +their applicability to this scene. What follows will please you +better:-- + + + 'Mid this stream of human being, banked by houses tall and grim, + Pale I stand this shining morrow, with a pant for woodlands dim; + To hear the soft and whispering rain, feel the dewy cool of + leaves; + Watch the lightning dart like swallows round the brooding + thunder-eaves; + To lose the sense of whirling streets 'mong breezy crests of + hills, + Skies of larks, and hazy landscapes, with fine threads of silver + rills; + Stand with forehead bathed in sunset on a mountain's summer crown, + And look up and watch the shadow of the great night coming down; + One great life in my myriad veins, in leaves, in flowers, in + cloudy cars, + Blowing, underfoot, in clover; beating, overhead, in stars!'" + + +"How many men have such vague dreams," said Old Wheels, "dreams that +they can scarcely understand and can but feebly express! We live in a +world of shadows. Come home with me; I have something to give you." + +They walked in silence to Soho, and when they were in the little +house, the old man said, "I have avoided speaking to you upon a +certain subject for more than one reason, but I was aware that the +time must come when silence could no longer be maintained. Our +acquaintance was commenced in a strange manner, and you have been to +me almost a new experience. I have taken such pleasure in your +society----" + +"It gives me inexpressible pleasure," interrupted Felix, "to hear you +say so." + +"--That I have, with somewhat of a cowardly feeling, often restrained +myself from speaking to you on the subject which was referred to by +your father on the day I buried my daughter." + +"Pray, sir----" + +"Nay," interposed Old Wheels gently and firmly, "this conversation +cannot be avoided, and we must speak plainly. Consider the position in +which we stand to one another, and ask yourself whether, if you were +in my place, you would not feel it due to yourself to act as I am +doing. If you remember, you came into your father's room while we were +speaking of a matter in which you were pecuniarily interested. +Doubtless you were well acquainted with all the particulars of the +affair." + +"No, sir," exclaimed Felix, eagerly, "I knew comparatively nothing. +But a few minutes before your arrival upon your sad mission, my father +and I were speaking upon business matters--for the first and only +time. I had been away from home nearly all my life, and all the +expense of my education and living were borne by an uncle from whom I +supposed I had expectations. He died suddenly, and I returned home, +possessing certain ideas and certain habits not pleasing to my father. +The day on which you came to the rectory was appointed by my father +for our business interview, and then I learned that my uncle had not +left any property, and that I was not to come into the magnificent +fortune my father had anticipated for me. This did not affect me, and +all that I knew of the matter you have referred to was that my uncle +had left behind him, among his papers, a document which contained, as +my father said, the recital of a singular story, and which, in my +father's opinion, might be worth money to me. That is all that passed +between us until your arrival." + +"Until my arrival," said Old Wheels, taking up the thread of the +narrative, "when you heard from my lips that it was Lily's father who +had brought this shame upon us. But doubtless, after my departure, you +learned all the particulars from the document left by your uncle." + +"No, sir, I know nothing more." + +Old Wheels looked gratefully at Felix. + +"It belongs to your character," he said, "to have practised such +restraint; I might have expected as much. If you have the paper about +you----" + +"I have not got it, sir." + +"You have it at home, then. I should like to see it, for I did +not know of its existence before that day, and it might contain +mis-statements which, for the children's sakes, should not be allowed +to remain uncontradicted or unexplained. If I might ask you to let me +read it----" + +"It is impossible, sir; I cannot show it to you. Nay, do not +misunderstand me," added Felix quickly, as he saw an expression of +disappointment in the old man's face; "no one has any claim upon you, +neither I nor any one connected with me. It is wiped off." + +"Shame can never be obliterated," said Old Wheels, in a tone of +mingled pride and sternness. "Have you the paper?" + +"No, sir." + +"Who has?" + +"No one. It is burnt, and there is no record of the circumstance you +have referred to." + +"Burnt!" exclaimed Old Wheels, with a dim glimmering of the truth. +"Who burnt it?" + +"My uncle left a request that all his papers and documents should be +burnt, unreservedly. My father, acting for me before I returned home, +complied with the request, and burnt everything with the exception of +this single document. It is with shame I repeat that he retained this +because he thought it was worth money to me." + +"So it was." + +"My uncle's wish was sacred to me, and when you left my father's room, +I burnt this paper, as all the others had been; it was my simple +duty." + +"Burnt it without reading it?" + +"Yes, sir. What else would you have me do with it? Put yourself in my +place, sir," he said, turning the old man's words against himself, +"and say whether you would not have felt it due to yourself to act as +I did." + +Old Wheels held out his hand, and Felix grasped it cordially. These +two men understood one another. + +"You would give me faith if I needed it," said the elder; "you make me +young again. It would have been my greatest pride to have had such a +son." + +Felix's heart beat fast at the words, and an eager light came into his +eyes, for he thought of Lily; but he restrained his speech. The time +had not yet come; he was very nearly penniless, and had no home for +the girl who had won his heart; he had no right to speak. + +"And notwithstanding this," said the old man, almost gaily, "a plain +duty remains." He went to the cupboard, and took out the iron box in +which he deposited his savings. "Here is the first instalment of the +balance due," he said, handing a small packet of money to Felix, whose +face grew scarlet as, with reluctant hand, he took the packet, for he +divined truly that no other course was open to him; "soon it will all +be repaid, and then a great weight will be lifted from us. I know your +thought, Felix; but the money is yours by right, and such a debt as +this is must not remain unpaid. Come, come--don't look downcast, or +you will cause me to feel sorry that we have grown to be friends." + +Felix felt the force of the old man's words, but could no help saying, + +"If I could afford it, I would give much if this had not been." + +"And what would I give, think you, could it be so? But the past is +irrevocable. Were it not for this debt of shame hanging upon us, do +you think I would have allowed Lily to occupy her present position?" + +"She does not know----" interrupted Felix. + +"She knows nothing of all this. She may one day; it may be my duty to +tell her; and then, if any one reproaches her, she has her answer." + +"Need she know, ever?" asked Felix eagerly, thinking of the pain the +knowledge would cause her. + +"I say she may, if only as a warning; for I think I see trouble +coming. I pray that I may be mistaken, but I think I see it." + +"I do not understand your meaning," said Felix earnestly; "but if I +might venture to ask one thing, and you would grant it, it would be a +great happiness to me." + +"Let me hear what it is, Felix," replied Old Wheels gently. + +"That if at any time I can be of use to you--if at any time you want a +friend upon whom you can depend, and who would sacrifice much to serve +you and your granddaughter----" + +"That then I will call upon you? I promise." + +"Thank you, sir." + +"You must have wondered, seeing, as you have seen, how pure and simple +my dear girl is--you must have wondered that I should have brought her +into contact with such associations as those by which she is +surrounded at the Royal White Rose. But it was what I conceived to be +a sacred duty; and if I had had a shadow of a doubt that she was other +than she is, I would have given my life rather than have done it, as +you know." + +"Truly, sir, as I know," assented Felix. + +"I have watched her from infancy, and I know her purity. I pray that +she may be spared from life's hard trials; but they may come to her, +as they come to most of us. They may come to her undeservedly, and +through no fault of hers; and if they do, and if, like Imogen, she has +to pass through the fire, she will, like Imogen, come out unscathed." + +Some hidden fear, some doubt which he was loth to express more +plainly, prompted the old man's words. With an effort, he returned to +his first theme. + +"What else could I do? There was no other way of paying the debt. I +have a small pittance of my own, from which not a shilling can be +spared; our necessities demand it all. And when I think, as I do +often, that this dear child, tender as she is, has been and is working +to wipe out, as far as is humanly possible, the disgrace entailed upon +us by her father's crime, I love her the more dearly for it." + +He went to the mantelshelf, where the portraits of Lily hung, and +gazed at them long and lovingly. + +"To her as to others," he said softly, "life's troubles may come. To +her may come, one day, the sweet and bitter experience of love. When +it does, I pray to God that she may give her heart to a man who will +be worthy of her--to one who holds not lightly, as is unhappily too +much the fashion now, the sacred duties of life." The prescience of a +coming trouble weighed heavily upon the old man, and his voice grew +mournful under its influence. "In a few years I shall have lived my +span, Felix; I may be called any day. Should the call come soon, and +suddenly, who will protect my darling when I am gone?" + +Felix drew nearer to the old man in sympathy, but dared not trust +himself to speak. + +"I speak to you," continued the old man, "out of my full heart, Felix, +for I have faith in you, and believe that I can trust you. It relieves +me to confide in you; strange as it may sound to you, you are the only +person I know to whom I would say what I am saying now--you are the +only person in whom I can repose this confidence, lame and incomplete +as you will find it to be." + +"Your granddaughter, sir----" suggested Felix. + +"The fears that oppress me are on her account," interrupted the old +man, "and I dare not at present speak to her of them; they would +necessarily suggest doubts which would bring great grief to her." + +"Her brother, sir, Alfred--could you not confide in him?" + +The old man turned abruptly from Felix, as if by that sudden movement +he could stifle the gasp of pain which involuntarily escaped him at +this reference. + +"Least of all in him, Felix--least of all in him! Do not ask me why; +do not question me, lest I should do an injustice which it would be +difficult to repair. Tell me. Have you ever noticed in Lily's manner +an abstraction so perfect as to make her unconscious of surrounding +things?" + +"Not so perfect as you describe, sir," replied Felix, after a little +reflection; "but I have noticed sometimes that she looks up suddenly, +as if she had been asleep, and had just awoke. Now that you mention +it, it strikes me more forcibly. This has always occurred when you and +I have been engaged in conversation for some little time, and during a +pause. But she is awake in an instant, and appears to be quite +conscious of what we have been saying." + +"These moods have come upon her only lately," said the old man, "and +only when she is deeply stirred. There are depths in my darling's soul +which even I cannot see. I am about to repose a confidence in you, +Felix, and to tell you a secret concerning my darling of which she +herself is ignorant. With the exception of one other, I believe that I +am the only one that knows it, and it has given rise to fears of +possible danger to her, in the event of anything occurring to me by +which she would be deprived of my watchful care. She is but the child +of my child, Felix, but she is so near to me, so dear, so precious, +that if heart-photographs could be taken, you would see my darling in +mine, lighting it up with her bright eyes and innocent face. She has +grown into my heart, that I rejoice instinctively when she is happy, +and am sad when she is sad. Our nature is capable of such instinctive +emotions of joy and suffering, which spring sympathetically from the +joy and suffering of those whom we love heartily and faithfully." + +The old man paused, and Felix waited for his next words in intense +anxiety. + +"A few months since there was a benefit at the Royal White Rose, +and a variety of new entertainments were introduced for the occasion. +Among them was a short performance by a man who called himself an +electro-biologist, and who professed to be able to so control the +mental powers of other persons, as to make them completely subservient +to his will. This is common enough and feasible enough; and whether +this man was a charlatan or not, it is certain that what he professes +is not all delusion, and may in time lead to important discoveries. +The fact that mere earnestness on the part of one person produces +certain effects upon the minds of others, is a sufficient proof that +this so-called new science is founded upon a tangible basis. When Lily +came home from the music-hall, on the night of this benefit, I noticed +that she was much agitated, and although she tried to laugh away my +inquiries into the cause of her agitation, by saying that she was a +foolish girl, I could see that her gaiety was assumed. After a little +while she told me that she had been frightened by this man, and that +while she was watching his performances from the side of the stage, +she seemed to be in some degree under his influence. The man, it +appears, noticed the interest she took in his performance, and, when +the curtain was down, addressed her, saying she was a good subject, +and that he could make her do whatever he pleased. Lily was terrified, +and tried to escape from him, but could not take her eyes from his +face until his attention was diverted from her; then she ran to her +room. Knowing how highly sensitive and nervous Lily's nature is, I was +not surprised at the effect this man produced on her, but I need +scarcely tell you that the incident gave me new cause for fear, and +that I watched Lily more carefully. I purposely refrained from +speaking with her upon the subject again, and since that time it has +never been referred to between us. But soon afterwards another +circumstance occurred to cause me alarm. It was the night on which her +mother died. We none of us knew on the day of her death that it was so +near, and Lily went as usual to the music-hall to fulfil her duties. +She came home late--at midnight. Shortly after she came home, her +mother died. Alfred was away--had been away all the night; and it was +not until two o'clock in the morning that we heard his step upon the +stairs. Lily went out to meet him. I being angry with him for his +thoughtlessness, and for another reason, which I cannot explain, +remained for a little while with the dead body of his mother--thinking +also that, at such a solemn time, the undisturbed communion of brother +and sister would be consoling to Lily. When I went into Lily's room, I +saw that Lily's grief had been deepened by her brother's coming home +flushed with drink. I had a solemn duty to fulfil that night; Alfred +is but a young man, with many temptations thrown in his way, and I +hoped that something which I had to say to him might, under the +influence of such an event as had occurred, have a good effect upon +him in the future--might teach him a lesson which would make him less +selfishly wrapt in his own pleasures, and more thoughtful of us--no, +not of us, of Lily, whom he loves, I believe, very truly, and whom he +would not consciously harm for any consideration. But the old lines +are bitterly true, 'that evil is wrought by want of thought as well as +want of heart.' In justice to Alfred, I must not relate to you the +nature of our conversation. I brought him into this room, where his +dead mother lay. Lily begged that she might come and sit with us, but +I could not permit her--the pain she would have suffered would have +been greater than that she had already experienced, and I bade +her good-night, and begged her to go to bed. She submitted +unresistingly--her nature is singularly gentle--and Alfred and I left +her. It was daylight when our interview was ended; Alfred and I went +to the door, and opening it, saw Lily lying on the ground, asleep. +Poor child! she had been much agitated by the events of the night, and +was frightened of solitude, so she had come to the door of the room +where we were sitting, finding companionship in being near us, and +hearing perhaps the murmur of our voices. Thus she must have fallen +asleep. I called to her, 'Lily!' To my surprise, she rose slowly, and +stood before us; but she was not awake. She nestled to me, and came +into the room, still asleep; and even when I led her into her own +room, she followed me, still sleeping. We laid her upon her bed, and I +sat by her for hours, watching her. When she awoke, she had no +consciousness of what had passed, and I would not distress her by +telling her. Three times since that night I have discovered her in the +same condition. Her rooms open into mine, as well as into the passage, +and it is usual for her to call out a good-night to me as she puts out +her candle. I always wait for these last words from her before I +retire to rest. My bed, you see, is behind this screen, where her poor +mother lay sick for so long a time. On the first of the three +occasions I have mentioned she kissed me, thoughtfully as I observed, +and went into her room. I waited for a long time for her 'Good-night, +grandfather,' but it did not come. I whispered her name at the door, +and asked in a low voice if she were asleep. I spoke low on purpose, +for if she were sleeping I did not wish to disturb her. She did not +answer me; but I saw the light still burning in her room, and I opened +the door gently, and saw her sitting by the table. She had not +undressed herself. I went to her side, and took her hand. She rose, +and I saw that she was asleep. Fearful of the consequences of suddenly +arousing her, I thought it best to leave her; I led her to the bed, +and left the room, taking the candle with me. I did not sleep, +however; I waited and listened, and within an hour I heard her moving +about the room. When she was quiet again, I went in, and found that +she had undressed and gone to bed. The following morning I thought she +would have spoken to me about it and about the candle being removed, +but she made no reference to the circumstance. After that I was more +carefully observant of her, and in less than a fortnight I discovered +her in the same condition for the second time. Anxious to test whether +her mind was in a wakeful state, I returned to my room, and called to +her. She turned her head at the sound of my voice, and I called again. +She came from her room slowly, and sat down when I bade her; seemed to +listen to what I said to her, and smiled, as if following my words, +but did not speak. More and more distressed at this new experience of +Lily, and fearful lest some evil to her might arise from this strange +habit, I consulted in confidence a doctor who lives near here, who is +somewhat of a friend of mine, and whose knowledge and ability deserve +a larger practice than he enjoys. He was much interested in my +recital; he knows Lily, and has attended her on occasions. More than +once he has spoken to me about her delicate mental organisation. 'The +girl is all nerves,' he has said; 'an unkind word will cut her as +surely as a knife; she is like a sensitive plant, and should be cared +for tenderly.' And then he has said that as she grew older she might +grow stronger. But, you see, it has not been so. I asked him whether +he could account for the condition in which I found her, and at his +request I related to him every particular and every detail which might +be supposed to be associated with it. He said he could come to but one +conclusion--that these abstractions, as he called them, came upon her +when she was brooding upon some pet idea, or when her feelings were +unusually stirred by surrounding circumstances. If her mind were +perfectly at rest, he said, she would not be subject to these +abstractions. His theory sufficiently accounted for her condition on +the night of her mother's death, but did not account for what occurred +afterwards. I knew of nothing that was agitating her, and so I told +him; but he only smiled, and said, 'You will probably know some day; +still waters run deep. Quiet as your granddaughter is, she is, from my +knowledge of her, capable of much deeper and stronger feeling than +most women.' And then he made me promise, the next time I found her in +this condition, to run round for him. 'It should not be allowed to +grow upon her,' he said, 'and I may be able to advise you better after +personal observation of her.' Last night the opportunity occurred. I +found Lily kneeling by her bed, dressed and asleep. I closed the door +softly upon her, and went for the doctor. 'Now,' he said, as we +hurried here, 'I do not think it well that she should hear a strange +voice, so I will not speak while I am in the room with her. But I may +wish you to say certain things to her, perhaps to ask a question or +two; I will write them in pencil, so that I shall have no occasion to +speak.' We found Lily in the same position--still kneeling by her +bedside. I did what I had done on the previous occasion, I called her +by name; but I had to place my hand upon her shoulder, and call her +again, before she rose. She followed me into this room, as she had +done before, and at my bidding sat down, resting her head upon her +hand. The doctor wrote upon paper, 'Speak to her in a gentle voice +upon indifferent subjects--about the weather, or anything that +suggests itself to you.' I obeyed, and she seemed to listen to what I +said. But the doctor wrote, She hears your voice, which harmonises +with her condition, as would the voice of any one that she loved; it +falls upon her senses like a fountain, but it is the sound only that +she hears--she does not understand your words. Appeal to her through +her affections, by speaking to her of some one whom she loves.' I said +then, 'Lily, I am going to speak to you about Alfred.' Her face +lighted up as I mentioned her brother's name, and she leant forward +eagerly. 'She hears and understands,' wrote the doctor, and then +desired me to say other things to her. But I must not tell you more of +the details of that interview, Felix; for the dear girl's sake, I must +not. The doctor told me, before he went away, that he was satisfied +that his theory was correct. 'She retires to her room,' he said, and +sits or kneels, as we found her to-night, in a state of wakefulness. +While in this position she muses upon something dear to her, and so +completely lost does she become in the contemplation, that she sinks +into slumber, and continues musing upon her thought even in her sleep. +This to a certain extent accounts for her being susceptible to outward +sound, and especially to the sound of voices that she loves. Her +musings are happy ones, and please her--so that when she hears a +familiar voice, one that is inwoven with her affections, as it were, +it harmonises with her mental condition; it pleases her, and she seems +to listen. This is all that I can say up to this point, with my +imperfect knowledge of her inner life, and with the brief observation +that I have made. But I have no doubt that I am right.' It seems to +me, Felix, that his theory is very near the truth, and if you knew the +fears by which I am tortured, but which I dare not commit to words, +you would better understand my grief. But it has relieved me to open +my heart to you thus far, for I know that you will respect my +confidence." + +"Indeed I will, sir," said Felix, in a tone of deep earnestness, "for +your sake and Lily's; and if ever I can be of service to you or to +her, depend upon my truth and honour, and trust me to do it. If I +dared to ask you one question----" + +"Ask it, Felix," said the old man, as Felix hesitated. + +"Do not answer it, sir, if it is a wrong one. What you said to Lily at +the doctor's request, and which you must not repeat----" but here he +hesitated again. + +"Well," said the old man, kindly and encouragingly, and yet with a +certain sadness. + +"Did it refer to matters in which you suppose she took an affectionate +interest?" + +"Yes, Felix." + +"And did she answer you, sir?" + +"By signs, Felix, not by words. You must be content with this." + +Felix asked no more questions, but after he bade the old man +good-night, thought much of the events of the past few hours. + +"How much hidden good there is in the world!" he mused. "What a sweet +lesson is contained in the life of this dear girl! She has a secret. +Ah, if that secret concerns me, and I can win her heart! But how dare +I think of it--I, without a nest to take my bird to? Ah, if I could +build a nest!" + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII. + + THE COMMENCEMENT OF A HAPPY DAY. + + +A mother could not have watched her only child with more jealous +devotion than that with which Old Wheels watched his darling Lily. He +could not bear her out of his sight; he even begrudged the time she +gave to Alfred; for Lily clung to her brother, and seemed to have +discovered a new bond of affection to bind them closer to each other. +Beset as he was with doubts and fears, Old Wheels found a fresh cause +for disturbance in this circumstance; and he was not successful in +hiding his disturbance from Alfred, who showed his consciousness of it +in a certain defiant fashion, which gave his grandfather inexpressible +pain. But the old man bore with this without open repining; he gave +all his love to Lily, and he blamed himself for the jealous feeling he +bore to Alfred. He strove against it, but he could not weaken it, and +he could only watch and wait. In the mean time Lily, to his eyes, was +growing thinner and paler. He spoke to Gribble junior about it. + +"Don't you think Lily is not looking so well as she did?" + +"Mrs. J. G. was saying the very same thing to me," replied Gribble +junior, "only the night before last. 'I don't think Lily is strong,' +said Mrs. J. G. to me; 'she looks pale.' And I said, 'It's that +music-hall; the heat and the gas and the smoke's too much for her.'" + +"You are right--you are right," said Old Wheels, the lines in his face +deepening. "Such a place is not fit for a young girl--so tender as my +Lily is, too. I will take her from it soon." (Thinking: "I shall be +able to, for the debt will soon be paid.") + +"Although," added Gribble junior, scarcely heeding the old man's +words, "to my thinking a music-hall's the jolliest place in the world. +I could set all night and listen to the comic songs." And Gribble +junior, to whom a music-hall was really a joy and a delight, hummed +the chorus of a comic song as a proof of the correctness of his +opinion; breaking off in the middle, however, with the remark, "Yes, +Lily _does_ look pale." + +"And thin?" asked Old Wheels anxiously. + +"_And_ thin," assented Gribble junior. "But then we all of us have our +pale days and our red days, and our thin days and our fat days, as a +body might say. Look at me, now; I'm three stone heavier than I was +four years ago. But I wasn't married then, and perhaps Mrs. J. G. has +something to do with it--though she hasn't lost either, mind you! I +was going to say something--what was it?" Here Gribble junior +scratched his head. "O, I know. Well, when I said to Mrs. J. G., 'It's +that music-hall,' she said, with a curl of the nose, though I didn't +see it, for we were abed, 'You men's got no eyes,' which was news to +me, and sounded queer too, for Mrs. J. G. don't generally speak to me +in that way. 'You men's got no eyes,' she said; 'it's my belief that +Lily is in love, and that makes her pale.' I don't often give in to +Mrs. J. G., but I give in to her in this, and it's my opinion she's +right. It's natural that girls, and boys too, should fall in love. +Keep moving." + +Thus Gribble junior rattled on for half an hour, being, as you know, +fond of the sound of his own voice, while Old Wheels pondered over +Mrs. Gribble junior's summing up of the cause of Lily's paleness, and +wondered if she were right. "There is but one man whom I know," he +thought, "who is worthy of my pearl. I should be happy if this were +so, and if he returned her love." Then he thought of Mr. Sheldrake, +and of that gentleman's intimacy with Alfred, and the glimmer of light +faded in that contemplation. + +The following morning, as he and his grandchildren were sitting at +breakfast, Alfred said, + +"Lily, I've got a holiday to-day, and I'm going to take you to Hampton +Court." + +Lily's eyes sparkled; she looked up with a flush of delight. Old +Wheels also looked at Alfred with an expression of gratification. + +"Lily doesn't go out very often," continued Alfred; "it is a fine day, +and the outing will do her good." + +Lily, who was sitting close to Alfred, kissed his hand; the pleasure +was all the greater because it was unexpected. + +"It is kind of you, Alf," said Old Wheels, with a nod of approval, and +with more cordiality in his manner towards his grandson than he had +expressed for many a day; "Lily seldom gets an opportunity to breathe +the fresh air. A run in the park will bring the roses in my darling's +face again." + +"Do I want them, grandfather?" asked Lily gaily. + +Her face was bright with anticipation. Old Wheels looked at her +fondly. + +"Not now, my dear," he replied, "but you have been looking pale +lately." + +"You are too anxious about me, grandfather," said Lily affectionately; +"I am very well. I think--I think--that you love me just a little bit +too much." And she took his face between her hands, and kissed him, +once, twice, thrice--making a rosebud of her mouth, as a little child +might have done. He was delighted at her merry humour. + +"I can't be that, darling," he said; "you are worthy of all the love +that we can give you." + +Alfred assented with, "That she is, grandfather." + +"You are in a conspiracy to spoil me," said Lily, greatly elated. She +was standing between them, holding a hand of each, and out of her +affectionate nature and her gladness at their more cordial manner +towards each other, she brought their hands together, and held them +clasped within her own. + +As the old man's fingers tightened upon those of his grandson, he +thought that perhaps after all he was torturing himself unnecessarily, +and, out of his hopes, he smiled and nodded affectionately at Alfred. +Alfred smiled in return, but the next moment a shadow passed into his +face. It did not rest there long; his lighter mood soon asserted +itself. + +"How soon shall we start, Alfred?" asked Lily. + +"As soon as you can get dressed, Lil. It will be best to go early. +Then we can have a ramble and a bit of dinner, and a row on the river, +perhaps." + +"That will be nice, and grandfather shall go with us." + +Alfred's face became overclouded at the suggestion, and Old Wheels saw +the cloud. Involuntarily his grasp of Alfred's hand relaxed. + +"No, my dear," he said quickly; "I can't go with you. I have something +to do at home. Run away now, and get dressed." Lily being gone, the +old man continued, "I spared you the awkwardness of a refusal, Alfred; +I saw that you would rather I should not accompany you." + +"O, sir," was the reply, spoken with exceeding ill grace, "if you +wish----" + +"I don't wish, my boy. Why should I do anything to spoil Lily's +enjoyment? and it _would_ spoil her enjoyment if she noticed that you +considered me an encumbrance." + +"Of course it's me," exclaimed Alfred pettishly; "I thought I had had +enough lecturing. I won't stand it much longer, and so I tell you." + +"Don't quarrel, Alfred; Lily will be back presently, and we must do +everything in our power to avoid giving her pain. I am glad that you +are going to take her out. Can you afford it?" + +"Afford it! I should think I could!" And Alfred rattled the money in +his pocket. + +Old Wheels sighed. + +"Your wages at the office are still the same, Alfred--fifteen +shillings a week?" + +"Yes--the old skinflints! I don't believe I should be better off if I +stopped there all my life." + +"You seem to be well off, notwithstanding," observed the old man, with +a grave look. + +"You're going to preach again, I suppose!" exclaimed Alfred in a +fretful tone. "A young fellow can't have a shilling in his pocket +without being preached at. I tell you what it is, grandfather----" + +But Alfred was prevented from telling his grandfather what it was by +the entrance of Lily, who came in, dressed in her best, and looking as +pretty and modest as any girl in England; and in a few moments brother +and sister were in the streets, arm in arm. + +The old man watched them from the window until they were out of sight. +"I am glad my darling has gone to enjoy herself," he thought, but he +could not keep back an uneasy feeling because she was away from him. +He accounted for it by saying that old age was selfish; but that +reflection brought no consolation to him. He went to the street door +and stood there, and felt more than ordinarily pleased as he saw Felix +turn the corner of the street. + +"I have come on purpose to tell you something," said Felix, as they +shook hands; "you know that I am looking out for something to do." + +"Yes, Felix." + +"The matter is difficult enough. I can't go to work as a shoemaker, or +a carpenter, or a bricklayer, because I am Jack-of-no-trade, and don't +know anything. I am neither this nor that, nor anything else. But last +night there was a great fire not very far from here----" + +"I read of it in the papers this morning." + +"It occurred, as you know then, after midnight. I was there at the +commencement of it, and saw it--saw the children and the mother +standing in their night-dresses at the third-floor window--saw the +flames surrounding them and creeping to them like fiery serpents--saw +that fireman, God bless him! scale the ladder and rescue the poor +things, nearly losing his life in the effort, spoke to him, shook +hands with him, hurriedly got some particulars from him and the poor +woman, and then----" + +"Yes, and then," said Old Wheels, sharing Felix's excitement. + +"Then went to the newspaper office with an account of the fire, which +they inserted. What you read this morning was mine, and I feel quite +proud of it. It is the first bit of real work I have ever done." + +"It is beautifully done!" exclaimed Old Wheels. "Bravo, Felix!" + +"That's what I said to myself, 'Bravo, Felix!' Why should not this +lead to other things? And I am so elated that I came to ask you if you +would come with me into the country for a few hours, somewhere close +enough to this city of wonders to enable us to get back in the +evening. It is a lovely day, and perhaps Lily will accompany you." + +"Lily is not at home," said the old man thoughtfully, noticing the +colour in Felix's face; "she has gone out with Alfred on just such a +trip as you so kindly propose. She wanted me to come, but I have +business at home and could not, so I cannot accompany you. If you are +not fixed upon any place, why not go yourself to Hampton Court, where +they have gone? You may meet them; I am sure Lily will be pleased to +see you." + +"I should like it above all things in the world," said Felix eagerly; +"have they gone by themselves?" + +"Yes." + +Felix looked earnestly at the old man. + +"Thank you, sir, a thousand times. I will go." + +Old Wheels smiled to himself as he turned into the house, and sat down +contentedly to his work--a cart which he was making for Pollypod. "I +feel easier now," he said, as he worked. + +But although Felix went down at once to Hampton Court, and strolled +into the palace and the picture-gallery and over the gardens, and +stood above the maze to see who were in it, he saw no signs of Lily or +Alfred. This occupied him a couple of hours, and then he resolved to +go into Bushy Park. "I ought to have gone there at first," he thought. +He strolled into the beautiful grounds, and down the grand avenue with +its lines of noble chestnut-trees. In the distance he saw a lady on a +seat, and a gentleman standing by her. His sight, quickened by love, +recognised Lily's form; but the man was not Alfred. He approached +slowly, until he was near enough to distinguish more clearly, and a +keen pang shot through him as he saw Lily sitting on the garden-seat, +and Mr. David Sheldrake bending over her. Alfred was not in sight. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV. + + SELFISH YEARNINGS AND UNSELFISH LOVE. + + +What but pure accident could have brought David Sheldrake and Lily +together on this day? There was nothing singular in the meeting, and +setting aside the presumption (as hitherto borne out by his actions) +that Mr. Sheldrake was Alfred's friend, Hampton Court is open to all +the world and his wife, and the chestnut-trees in Bushy Park have a +wide renown. They are beautiful through all the year, in and out of +blossom; their leaves have shaded many thousands of lovers, and will +shade many thousands more; and the story that is as old as the hills +has been whispered and acted over and over again to the noble branches +that break the sunlight and the moonlight fantastically. And what was +there to prevent Mr. Sheldrake having an eye for the beautiful? + +It was to all appearance the most natural occurrence in the world, and +Lily certainly had no suspicion that the meeting was pre-arranged. +If it had been, where was the harm? Alfred saw none, and if he +had----Well, if he had, it is difficult to determine how he would have +acted. Men are to be found who are at once so selfish and so weak that +they bring a moral blindness upon themselves. In the pursuit of their +own selfish ends they are incapable of seeing in their actions a +possible evil result to those whom they love. Their minds are mirrors +reflecting from within, in which they see nothing but themselves and +their own troubles and desires. + +The holiday commenced most happily, and Lily's heart's hopes were as +bright as the clouds above her. The day was an event in her life of +even routine. She was as blithe as a bird. As she walked, she felt as +if she would like to dance, and as she could not do that, she hummed +her favourite songs, and pressed Alfred's arm to her side, and showed +her grateful spirit in a hundred little affectionate ways. Every +little incident afforded her pleasure, and strangers looked admiringly +at her bright face. When she and Alfred arrived at Hampton Court, she +was in the gayest of spirits. She chatted merrily on all sorts of +subjects, and drank in the goodness and the beauty of nature with a +spirit of exceeding thankfulness. She was girl and woman in one. It +would have done any person good to see her roaming about the grounds +and gardens, admiring this and that as a child might have done. So +childlike was she in her womanliness that every now and then she would +set Alfred's remarks to favourite airs, and sing them again and again +in a dozen different ways. + +"I am as happy as a bird," she said; "and I have you to thank for it, +dear, and that makes me happier still." + +In this way did her affectionate nature pay exorbitant interest for +Alfred's small outlay of kindness. As she pressed his arm to her +breast, and held it there, Alfred thrilled with amazement at her +goodness; he looked into her sparkling eyes, which were dewy with joy. + +"Do you know what, Lil?" + +"What, dear?" + +"I am glad you are my sister." + +Her heart laughed as he said the words. + +"And glad that you love me, Lil," he added. + +"What would life be without love, dear Alf?" + +She did not know (although she might have guessed, as she was aware +that he had a heart-secret) what a tender chord her words touched. +What would life be without love? Ah! think of it, all, and believe +that it is the richest dower woman can bring to man, the richest gift +man can give to woman! Love, faith, and charity: all the rest is +dross. Out from the branches flew a bird, and after it another. Lily's +eyes followed them. Up, up into the clouds, which seemed fit +dwelling-place for the graceful things, until they were lost to sight. +But Lily did not miss them; for in the clouds she saw her hopes +reflected. She was in harmony with the peacefulness and beauty of +everything around and about her. Every blade that sprang from the +earth, every leaf that thrilled to the whisper of the wind, every +glint of light imprismed in the brown and green lattice-work of the +trees, every bright bit of colour that dwelt in cloud and flower, +contributed to her happiness. Such times as these are Forget-me-nots. + +So they strolled through the gardens, and into courtyards so still and +quiet that they appeared scarcely to belong to the busy world. They +went into the picture-gallery, because Alfred said it was the proper +thing to do, but a gloom fell upon Lily when she was in the rooms. +They were sad and sombre, and there was something dispiriting in the +manner in which the few persons who were at the palace walked about +and looked at the pictures. They walked with soft footfalls, and spoke +with bated breath, and wore a solemn expression on their countenances, +which seemed to say, "we are walking among the dead!" One might not +inaptly have imagined, indeed, that at night, when no profane footstep +disturbed the silence, the palace was a palace of ghosts and shades +that rose from the floor, and started from frame and wainscot, to play +their parts in the shadowy world to which they belonged. The +excitement and pleasure of the day rendered Lily more than usually +susceptible to outward influences. Every nerve in her was quivering +with susceptibility, and the contrast between the ghostly rooms and +the bright landscape without sensibly affected her. She hurried Alfred +through the rooms nervously, but the eyes of a Puritan, that glared at +her sternly from the wall, arrested her attention and frightened her. + +The face was sunless; even about the lips and eyes there was no trace +of gentleness or sweetness. The cruelly hard lines in the face of this +man spoke of severity, austerity, absolutism, and declared, "Life is +bitter; it is a battle of brute forces, and he who wins by strength of +character, by dogmatism, by harshness, achieves a moral victory, and +proves himself worthy. There is but one course--bend all the forces of +your will, all the power of your strength, to crush those whose ways +are not your ways, whose belief is not your belief. There is not room +for all; some have no business here. To be human is not to be humane." +Lily's heart grew faint as she gazed at this stern face, and it was +only by a strong effort that she wrested her attention from it. She +was glad when she was out in the sunshine and among the flowers again, +and her lightheartedness soon returned. Alfred's mood was more +subdued. Lily did not notice when they started from home that his +gaiety was forced, and that he seemed to be playing a part; but it was +so. His cheerfulness was only assumed. Notwithstanding the outward +evidences of prosperity he displayed, he was in trouble again. In +immediate trouble, that is. For, like a very numerous class, so long +as his circumstances were easy for to-day, he was easy in his mind. He +rarely looked beyond; sufficient for the day was the good thereof. But +to-morrow comes inevitably, and it came to Alfred, and brought trouble +to his door. + +Nearly all his racing speculations had gone against him. The race for +the Goodwood Cup, the winner of which he was so confident of having +"spotted," as the phrase is, had proved disastrous to him. The +acceptance for seventy-five pounds which he had given to Con Staveley +would soon be due, and he had not the means to meet it. He had +borrowed the money of Mr. Sheldrake, and he had given that gentleman +he did not know what documents as security, security of the frailest, +as his friend took care to tell him. + +"It is a mere matter of form," Mr. Sheldrake had said; "for as you +have no property, and are worth nothing, these bills and I O Us are +worth almost as much as waste paper. But I trust to your honour, Alf; +I know you'll not let me in. But although I am partial to you, my boy, +and like you, and all that, I should be bound to declare, if you +pushed me to it, that it is for Lily's sake only I assist you. You +don't mind my saying this, do you? It is because I like her, and want +her to think well of me--not without deserving it, Alf; I think I +deserve it--that I'm disposed to stick to you. You'll have a slice of +luck one day, my boy. That tip of yours for the Cup was a bad one; but +better luck next time, that's my motto. How much did you lose? O, that +wasn't a great deal" (making light of what was a serious sum to +Alfred); "you'll soon pull that up. Of course you'll be able to meet +that little bill of Staveley's? If I didn't think it was all right, I +wouldn't tell you what he said yesterday. He swore that if the bill +wasn't paid (what put it in his head that it wouldn't be, puzzles me) +he wouldn't hold me accountable, but would come down upon you, and +press the money out of you. He's as hard as nails upon some points, is +Con Staveley, and he's sore because I've been let in by so many of my +friends. He can't make out what makes me cotton to you so; but then he +hasn't seen Lily, has he, Alf? or he might alter his tone." + +Of course Alfred said he would be able to meet Con Staveley's bill, +hoping that meanwhile the slice of luck (which, unfortunately for the +hopeful ones, is nearly always figurative) would be cut off Fortune's +pudding for him. But it wasn't; and pay-day was drawing near; and he +had been borrowing more money of Mr. Sheldrake, some of which he had +lost in racing as usual, and some of which he had spent upon himself, +and in other ways. So that altogether he was in a bad way, and +supposing that Mr. Sheldrake failed him, he did not know where to turn +for assistance to float him through his money scrapes. Of one thing he +was certain--it depended upon Lily whether Mr. Sheldrake continued to +be his friend. He extracted comfort from this thought; for as the word +of promise is often kept to the ear to break it to the hope, so he +cajoled himself into believing that Lily entertained a warm feeling +for Mr. Sheldrake; he believed it because it was vitally necessary to +him that it should be so. Still he would make sure. He had a favour to +ask of Mr. Sheldrake this very day, and Lily would be able to assist +him in obtaining it. Perhaps she would be able to put in a word for +him with that gentleman. He absolutely saw nothing wrong in the +thought. It was, however, with an uneasy feeling that he commenced the +conversation, and he was rather ashamed of himself for going +roundabout instead of coming straight to the point. + +"I am so glad you are enjoying yourself, Lily." + +He could find nothing better to say than this. + +"I can't help it, Alfred; it would be ungrateful not to on such a day. +And I enjoy it all the more because you have brought me and because +you are with me. What beautiful places there are to come to, if one +has the time and the money!" + +"Yes, and the money," repeated Alfred, with a groan. "Isn't it a +shame, Lily, that a fellow can't get as much as he wants?" + +"That depends, Alf," answered Lily, with a touch of philosophy which +sounded all the prettier from her lips, because she was the last +person in the world who would be supposed to be given to +philosophising, "upon how much a fellow wants." + +"Not much; not a great deal. There are hundreds of people who have +more than they know what to do with." + +"I think," said Lily, in a musing tone, "one can do with a very little +and be very happy." + +"You say so because you're a girl; if you were a man you would think +different." + +"Perhaps," she said, with a readier mental acquiescence than the word +expressed. + +"A man wants so many things," continued Alfred, with only one +interpretation of "man" in his mind, and that was himself, "that a +girl has no idea of. He has to move in the world, and do as others do, +if he doesn't want to look mean and shabby; it's hard lines on a +fellow when it comes to that. Now a girl's different; so long as she's +comfortable at home she's all right. There is no occasion for her to +knock about." + +"Alfred," said Lily, looking into his face suddenly, "you speak as if +you were in trouble." + +"And if I were, and if you could help me, Lily, would you?" + +"Would I?" She took his hand and kissed it, as she had done once +before this morning. A wise man, or, rather, one who had learnt wisdom +(for the two definitions are not synonymous), who was strolling in the +gardens, saw the action, and thought, "How fond that girl is of that +young fellow!" naturally setting them down as sweethearts; and in his +superior wisdom smiled somewhat sneeringly at the hollowness of love's +young dream. "Would I! What would I not do for those I love!" It was +her heart that spoke. "Tell me your trouble, Alfred." + +"Money," he replied curtly; "that's my trouble." + +"Can I help you, dear? I earn some." + +"And give it all to grandfather," he said bitterly; for he thought +of what better use he could make of Lily's earnings than his +grandfather, and how many fine chances of backing the right horses he +was throwing away for want of means. + +"Yes," she said, in a surprised tone at his bitterness; "surely that's +right, Alf?" + +"O, I suppose it is," he answered, in a rough, ungracious manner; +"whatever grandfather is mixed up with, and whatever he does, must be +right, of course." + +"What is the matter with you and grandfather?" she asked in deep +anxiety; the brightness was beginning to die out of the day. "I can't +tell you how grieved I have been to see the way you behave to each +other. You do not love each other as you used to do. I was in hopes +this morning that it was all right between you again." + +"How can I tell you what it is that makes him treat me as he does. +Lily, when I don't know myself? Directly you went out of the room this +morning, he began to nag me, and I couldn't stand it. He's always at +me with his eyes or his tongue." + +Lily was exquisitely distressed. Alfred spoke as if his grandfather +were his enemy, and they were both necessary to her. She loved them +both--not equally; her love for Alfred was the stronger. If it were +placed distinctly before her that she would be compelled to choose +between them, she would have chosen Alfred. This contingency did not +present itself to her now, but she was sufficiently grieved at the +consciousness of the breach between the two persons upon whom until +lately she had bestowed all her love. Could she heal it? could she do +anything? she asked timidly. + +"Whose fault is it, Alfred--yours or grandfather's?" + +"Is it mine?" he demanded impetuously, in return. "Now I ask you, +Lily, do you think it is mine?" + +"No, no," she replied, with generous and loving readiness; "I am sure +it is not." + +And thus committed herself, almost instinctively, out of her love for +him. + +"Well then," he said, feeling like a coward, "there it is. If I have a +new suit of clothes, grandfather preaches me a sermon. That's why I +didn't show him the chain the other day. I don't want to say anything +against him, but young men are not the same as they used to be. Now, I +put it to you, Lily: if you had anybody that you liked--I mean that +you cared for a bit--that--that--you were--very fond of----" + +"Alfred!" cried Lily, looking at him with eager eyes. + +"You know what I mean, Lily. If you were a man and had anybody that +you loved--there! now it's out!--wouldn't you like to look well in her +eyes?" + +"O, yes, yes, Alfred! And have you some one like that? I thought so--I +thought so!" + +"Yes, I have, Lily, and she is the dearest, prettiest, best girl in +the world, Lily. And it's because she's poor----" + +"That's nothing, Alfred." + +"That's nothing, of course, in her. But because she's poor I try to +make a little money so as to be nice, and make her a present now and +then, perhaps; and because of that, grandfather's always at me, +preaching--preaching--preaching. O Lily, you should see her! She is as +good as you are, and as pretty, upon my word, Lil." + +"Prettier and better, I am sure, Alfred," said Lily, taking his hand +and caressing it. She would have liked to throw her arms round his +neck, but they were sitting in the gardens, and people's eyes were +upon them; so she was compelled to restrain the impulse, and to +content herself with caressing his hand and saying, "I am so glad! I +am so glad and that was your secret? You have got some one that you +love--my dear, my dearest! O, how happy you have made me! And you love +her very, very much?" + +"With all my heart and soul, Lily." He spoke the truth. + +"And she loves you? But what a question! As if she could help it!" + +She looked into his handsome face with genuine admiration. How bright +the day was again! Earth, sky, air, grew lovelier in the light of her +happiness; for in the love her brother bore to this girl she saw her +own reflected. + +"She loves me as well as I love her, Lily." + +"I am sure of it--I am sure of it; she couldn't do otherwise. What is +her name?" + +"Lizzie," answered Alfred, with gratified vanity. + +"Lizzie! Lizzie! I shall have a sister; I love her already, my dear. +Of course," she said slyly, "you have her portrait?" + +"How do you know, you puss?" he asked, with a laugh and a blush. + +She echoed his laugh, and said, with an affectation of superior +wisdom, + +"I could shut my eyes, and find it--there!" and she touched his +breast-pocket lightly. + +"Here it is, Lil," he said, bashfully and proudly, taking Lizzie's +portrait from his pocket. "What do you think of her? But it doesn't do +her justice." + +The accumulative sins that photographers are guilty of in "not doing +justice" must surely bring a heavy retribution upon them one of these +days. But in this instance they found a zealous champion in Lily, who +gazed at the portrait with admiring eyes, and kissed it again and +again. + +"What a beautiful face! what lovely hair!" ("All her own, Lil," +interpolated Alfred.) "I can tell that. And she has brown eyes, like +mine. And your portrait is in this locket round her neck. When shall I +see her really?" + +"Soon; I have told her about you. But O, Lily, I am so unhappy with it +all! I am the most miserable wretch in the world, I do believe!" + +"Unhappy!" exclaimed Lily, bewildered by these alternations of +feeling. "Miserable! I don't understand you, Alfred." + +Indeed, she could not understand it. She judged from her own feelings; +to love and to be loved was, to her imagination, the highest condition +of happiness. Earth contained no brighter lot; and if in the Heaven +and future life we believe in and look forward to--all of us, I +hope--some such bliss as the bliss of pure love is to be ours, there +can be no better reward for living a good life. + +"You asked me to tell you my troubles," said Alfred, a little sulkily, +"and I told you: money. But you seem to have forgotten it already." + +"I did, for a moment, my dear," she replied remorsefully; "I forgot it +in my delight at the news you have told me for and in the +contemplation of your happiness." + +"How can I be happy," he grumbled, "with such a trouble upon me? You +do not know what it is, and how it weighs me down. How can I show my +face to Lizzie when I am so pressed, and when I am in debt, and can't +pay?" + +"And yet," she said, out of her own goodness and unselfishness, "you +have brought me here for a holiday to-day, and I have been thoughtless +enough to come, and put you to expense, when I ought to have guessed +you could not afford it!" + +The very construction she placed upon it displayed him in a generous +light which he so little deserved, that he felt inwardly ashamed of +himself. + +"How could you have guessed? I have kept my troubles to myself. Why +should I bother you with them? And it would be hard, indeed, if I +could not give you a little pleasure now and then. It isn't much I +give you, Lil--not as much as I should like to. Until I saw Lizzie, I +had no one to love but you, and now, when everything might be so +splendid with me, here am I stumped because I am hard-up. It's too +bad--that's what it is--it's too bad altogether; and just at the time +that I have got the tip for the Cesarewitch, and could make a thousand +pounds as safe as nails." + +All this was Greek to Lily. She did not know what the "tip" or the +Cesarewitch was, but she was too anxiously interested in Alfred's main +trouble to go into details. + +"Is it much money you want, Alfred?" + +"No, not much, Lily." + +"Why not ask grandfather----" + +But he interrupted her with sudden vehemence. + +"Lily!" he cried. "Grandfather must not know anything of this. Promise +me." + +"I promise," she answered readily; "but why, Alfred?" + +He dared not tell her the truth; he dared not say that his grandfather +suspected him, and suspected him with just cause; he himself did not +know whether it was suspicion or actual knowledge that caused his +grandfather to be doubtful of him. Then how could he tell her to what +purpose her earnings were devoted? If she knew that, not only would +she become acquainted with the shameful story of their father's crime, +but she might get to learn the story of the little iron box. For he +was guilty of the theft; it was he who had stolen the money, +intending, of course, to replace it, and not knowing why it was +hoarded up so carefully. + +As he sat silent now in the light of the beautiful day, with his +trouble heavy upon him, and suffering from the remorse that is not +born of repentance, all the circumstances of the theft spread +themselves swiftly before him. The money had been stolen in just the +way his grandfather had surmised in the interview that took place +between them on the night of his mother's death. He had seen his +grandfather go often to the iron box, and he suspected that it +contained money. One day, when his grandfather was not at home, he +tried the cupboard in which the iron box was placed for safety, and +found it locked. Seeing a key upon the mantelshelf, and believing it +to be the key of the iron box, he ran out of the room with it, and +took an impression of it, and from the impression had a false key +made. Then, on the very night his grandfather had mentioned, he +watched the old man out of the house, and took the iron box from the +unlocked cupboard. He opened the box, and was taking the money from it +when he heard a sound from the bed behind him. Turning, he saw his +mother with her eyes open, as he thought, watching him. For a few +moments he could not stir, he was so dismayed; but a sigh from his +mother which was half a groan completely aroused him, and going to the +bed he found his mother asleep. Relieved, he completed the theft. This +scene was always before his eyes when he was in trouble; when his +money affairs were easy, and he had sufficient for the day, he rarely +thought of it. He had quite made up his mind that, supposing his +mother had been awake, he would have told her all--how that he had +used money belonging to his employers, not for the first time; that it +was imperative he should replace it; and that it was better to take +for a time these savings, hoarded up by his grandfather for a then +unknown purpose, rather than allow exposure to come. "Mother would +have given me right," he often thought, but he did not have the +opportunity of testing whether his thought was correct. All his life +he was never to know whether his mother had gone down to the grave +with the consciousness that her son, as well as her husband, was a +thief. + + + + + CHAPTER XXV. + + ALFRED NEGLECTS THE WARNING OF DON'T TOUCH ME, AND RUES IT. + + +But, in a lame sort of way, he found justification for the act. He +would not accept the brand; fate and bad luck were to blame, not he. +He took the money with the firm intention of replacing it, and with +the conviction (by what sophistry gained, heaven only knows) that he +would be able to do so; and he gave himself credit for his intention, +as if it were an act performed. With part of the money he had backed +horses to win a heavy stake, but his usual bad luck pursued him; in +his vernacular, one horse was "pulled," another was "scratched" an +hour before the race, and others went wrong in all sorts of ways. But +his heaviest stroke of bad luck, and one which almost maddened him at +the time of its occurrence, was the disqualifying of a horse he had +backed after it had actually won the race. This took place on a +suburban race-course, where probably the finest collection in the +world of blacklegs, thieves, and swindlers may be seen by any one +interested in the species. It may be accepted as a fact, that nearly +every person who goes there, goes with the intention of "getting the +best" of his neighbour, if he can possibly manage it; and Alfred was +not one of the exceptions that proved the rule. His moral +consciousness was as spotted as the morality of those he elbowed. +There were men who backed the favourites, who backed the jockeys' +mounts, who backed the stable (whichever one it might be), who backed +their fancy, who backed the owners, who backed the issue of famous +sires, who backed the prophets' selections, and who laid out their +money in accordance with a system. Many of them had private +information of such-and-such horses, and knew for a certainty that +they must win--some from superior excellence of their own, some +because their opponents were not going to try. Men of straw most of +them; miserable crawlers through the crooked ways of life, striving to +reach the heaven of their hopes by means of any species of roguery; +who will look their friends in the face, and lie deliberately; who +take the name of God in vain a dozen times an hour; whose hands and +tongues are ready at any moment to filch and profane; and in whose +minds the noblest qualities of human nature are but themes for ribald +jest. I who write these words am no purist; I am no more moral than my +neighbours, I daresay; and I love pleasure as well as I love work. +Temptations beset us all, at times, and not one of us is strong enough +always to resist. I, as well as you, have occasion to be sorry, and +would, if I could, live over again some of the time that is past, and +would strive to avoid slipping. I have deceived myself often, and have +given myself credit for things which have resulted from no merit that +I possess. But I do not deceive myself when I say that I have a hearty +contempt for roguery and meanness, and that I have a horror of +blasphemy and the profaning of human and divine things. And, as at no +open gatherings in the wide world can so much roguery and knavery be +seen as at some of these small race-meetings (and in some large ones, +too), I think it a pity that they are encouraged by high authorities, +whose position among the people is almost that of a teacher. + +Being at this suburban race-meeting (having obtained the holiday by +shamming illness), Alfred at once set to work backing horses. He had +in his pocket more than twenty pounds, the surplus of the money he had +taken from the iron box, and he had fully made up his mind that a +great stroke of good luck was to come to him on this day, and that he +would go home with a purse filled with others persons' losings. His +plan of operations upon this occasion was a very simple one. He +pursued the "doubling" system--a system which undoubtedly would result +in gain, if it could be carried out without stopping. In the first +race he selected a horse, and backed it for two pounds; the horse did +not win. All the better for the next race, thought Alfred, as he +walked about, and studied on his race-card the string of horses that +were next to compete. In this race he made his selection, and backed +his horse for four pounds. Again the horse came in among the rear +division, and again Alfred lost. He began to look anxious, and +nervously fingered the money in his pocket. Should he leave off, and +be content with his losses? He fortified his faint heart with some +brandy, and walked among the crowd to pick up information. No, he +would go on; the odds were surely in his favour now. He had lost +twice; he _must_ win in the third venture. Up went the black board +with the names of the horses for the third race. Among them was Never +Despair. Acting upon an inspiration, Alfred backed Never Despair for +eight pounds, and obtained the odds of five to one--that is, if Never +Despair won, Alfred's gain would be forty pounds. The horse _did_ win. +It was an exciting race between the favourite and Never Despair; and +as the sporting writers said the next morning, Never Despair caught +the favourite in the last stride, and won by a short head. "By----!" +muttered a man by Alfred's side, "Never Despair's won, and I'm done +for!" And, with muttered oaths hanging about his white lips, the loser +looked around, ready to pick a pocket. "Hurrah!" cried Alfred, taking +off his hat and waving it. "Hurrah! Never Despair's won!" But stopped +suddenly, for fear that a mistake might occur, or that there might be +something wrong with the horse, or that the jockey might be found a +pound short in his weight. His first fear was dispelled by the +appearance of the number of Never Despair on the black board. Then +Alfred, trembling with excitement, waited for the magic words which +would proclaim that the jockey had passed his ordeal in safety, and +that the race was really and truly won by the horse he had backed. The +three or four minutes that intervened seemed to be three or four +hours, and Alfred fretted and fumed, and dug his nails into his hands. +At length came the magic cry from the saddling paddock, "All right!" +"All right! All right!" screamed Alfred, and the recognised scouts +took up the cry, passing it from list to list. Off scampered Alfred to +get his forty pounds, and came away radiant, with eight five-pound +notes and his own deposited stake of eight pounds clenched in his +fist. "How much have I won?" he thought. On the first and second races +he had lost six pounds. Six from forty, thirty-four. That was good +thirty-four pounds were not a bad day's work. "I knew luck would +turn," said Alfred exultantly. "I knew luck would turn! Let me see. +Thirty-four pounds a day--how much is that a year?" And began to +reckon up his thousands, and look a long way ahead. He had now +in his pocket nearly sixty pounds. He gave a shilling to an old gipsy +woman, who detained him a few moments by telling him that a beautiful +young lady with brown eyes was thinking of him at that moment, "Of +course she is," exclaimed Alfred merrily, breaking away from the +fortune-teller with a laugh. "I could have told you that, mother!" He +was in the highest of spirits. "What shall I buy for Lizzie?" he +thought. "I'll buy her a watch. And Lil, too, I mustn't forget her. I +want some new clothes myself. I'll buy that diamond ring young +Shrewboy at the office wants to sell. He only asks twelve pounds for +it, and it just fits my little finger. It sparkles like anything! +There's that money, too, I borrowed from the box: I must put it back." +If he had been wise, he would not have indulged in these extravagant +anticipations; he would have been content with his winnings. But who +ever knew a wise gamester? He went to the best drinking-bar on the +race-course, and treated himself to a bottle of champagne; and said to +himself, as he drank it, that now his luck was in, and he would be a +fool not to back it. He might go home that afternoon with two or three +hundred pounds in his pocket, if he had a spark of courage in him. +Nothing venture, nothing have. How had the leviathans of the ring made +their money? First by luck, then by pluck. Why shouldn't he be one of +them? Why should he not buy his own trap, have private boxes at the +music-halls, wear diamond rings and diamond pins, and an Ulster coat +down to his heels? Some of them had country houses and race-horses of +their own, and ate and drink of the best; as for champagne, they might +swim in it. The iron was hot; now was the time to strike it. Flushed +and elated, he walked into the ring. The names of the horses for the +fourth race were being chalked on the black board. By a strange chance +one was named Don't Touch Me. There was nothing very singular in this +appellation; as a matter of fact you will find in the sporting papers +of to-day a list of outlawed horses, among which you will see such +names as Bird of Prey, Phryne, Roll Call, I Must Not Touch It, and +others as significant. Now this horse, that Alfred was disposed to +back directly he saw that, it was among the runners, carried its own +recommendation with it. Don't Touch Me was a sufficiently fair warning +for any horse to carry, never mind how lightly it was weighted; but +Alfred fancied it as it took its preliminary canter. "It will walk +in," he heard some one say, "and it belongs to So-and-so," mentioning +the name of one of the "knowing ones" of the turf. How these persons +earn the distinctive title of the "knowing ones" there is no necessity +here to inquire; it can scarcely be by the exercise of the cardinal +virtues, which pagans declared to be justice, prudence, temperance, +and fortitude, although the second-named, prudence, bears a wide and +various meaning, and they might lay claim to it in the interests of +self. However it was, there stood Don't Touch Me on the black board, +and there before his eyes cantered Don't Touch Me on the turf, with a +celebrated jockey on its back. "I'll back it for every shilling in my +pocket," thought Alfred, "and make a good haul." But he would make +sure that he was right. How? By one of those foolish superstitions +which gamblers believe in. He wrote the names of the eleven runners on +eleven pieces of paper, folded them separately, and shook them +together in his pocket. "Now," he said, "if I draw Don't Touch Me, +that will settle it." He put in his hand, and drew one of the folded +pieces of paper. Opening it he read Don't Touch Me, and that settled +it. "It's the favourite," he said, almost aloud, in his excitement, as +he consulted the lists, and saw that Don't Touch Me was quoted at +three to one; "it's the favourite, and it's sure to win!" Down went +his money. Not all with one man. One man might not be able to pay him +so large a sum when the race was over. So he invested twenty pounds +with one, ten with another, five with another, until he had put all he +had upon Don't Touch Me. He stood altogether to win about a hundred +and seventy pounds. He selected "safe men" to bet with. In some lists, +kept by men who looked remarkably like costermongers with a polish on, +the odds against Don't Touch Me were quoted at four, five, and even +six to one; but Alfred knew that these worthies were welchers, and not +all their seductive offers, not all their flattering "Now then, +captain, what d'ye want to back?--any odds on outsiders!--give it a +name, captain--what'll you put a fiver on?" could tempt him. He knew +the ropes better than that; he knew that these capitalists, whose +stock-in-trade consisted of a bit of chalk, a stool, a printed +placard, and a lead pencil, were swindlers, who were allowed to rob +with the policeman looking on. Truly, if Justice is blind, the law +that is supposed to lead to it has a cast in its eye. Having made his +great venture, Alfred went to look at the horse that carried it. It +was a noble-looking animal, in splendid condition, fit to run for a +man's life. Just behind it, making its way leisurely to the +starting-post, was a horse named the Cunning One. Alfred laughed as he +noted the difference between the two horses. He was in the enclosure +where the swells were, having, after his winnings on Never Despair, +paid for that privilege; and as he laughed now, he heard, "I'll take a +thousand to thirty." "I'll give it to you," was the answer of a +bookmaker; "a thousand to thirty against the Cunning One!" Turning, +Alfred saw the man who had taken the bet, a tall, thin, languid swell, +who drawled his words out as if speaking were a labour. A thick +moustache covered his lips, or something might have been seen in the +expression on them that would have given the lie to his apparently +unconcerned and drawling manner. "There's thirty pounds clean thrown +away," thought Alfred, with a look of contempt at the languid swell; +"a nice fly chap he is to back such a horse as the Cunning One. It's +only fit for a scavenger's cart." Away went the horses to the +starting-post; there was a difficulty in getting a fair start, each +jockey trying to "jockey" the others. Full twenty minutes elapsed, the +while a very Babel of sound, created by the hoarse strong voices of +the betting men, kept the fever of excitement to boiling-point. Again +and again the cry "They're off!" was raised, and again and again came +the mild addendum, "No; another false start." During this time Alfred +heard nothing, saw nothing but the horses; he had staked his all upon +Don't Touch Me, and it was upon that horse of all of them that he +fixed his attention. The jockey's colours were pink; those of the +jockey of the Cunning One were saffron. Alfred noticed that both these +horses were kept comparatively cool and quiet by their riders while +the false starts were being made. This was all in Alfred's favour, and +he remarked it with satisfaction, and said, "It's all right, it's all +right! Don't Touch Me is sure of the race." But his face was pale with +suffering, notwithstanding. How he wished it was all over! "I won't +put another shilling on," he said. "When the race is over, I'll go +straight home." At length the horses were coming together, and a +straight line of variegated colour was seen. "It will be a start this +time," said some one, and the next moment the flag dropped again, and, +"They're off! They're off!" burst from a thousand throats. Before the +horses had gone a hundred yards Alfred saw the pink jacket of Don't +Touch Me and the saffron jacket of the Cunning One in the rear. "All +the better," he thought; for it was a two-mile race, and it was good +policy to save the wind of the horses that were intended to win until +the final struggle. On they came, rushing like the wind past the grand +stand, and although no great distance separated them, saffron and pink +were the absolute last. The race was being run at a great pace. Alfred +was ablaze with excitement. The horses were lost for a few moments +behind a great clump of bush on the other side of the course, and when +they reappeared the aspect of affairs was changed. The horse that had +made the running had dropped behind, and one or two others also were +at the tails of Don't Touch Me and the Cunning One. A mile and a +quarter of the race was run, and these two horses were held in with +wrists of steel, while the riders sat as if they grew out of their +saddles. Now they are coming into the straight run home. "A monkey to +a pony on pink and saffron!" shouts a bookmaker; "a monkey to a pony, +first past the post!" He is right in his judgment. The final struggle +is not yet come, but slight efforts on the part of the jockeys enable +Don't Touch Me and the Cunning One to thread through their horses and +come to the front. Alfred clenches his teeth, and his fingers work +into his palms, and his lips twitch convulsively. Nearer and nearer +they come, increasing in every stride the distance between themselves +and their competitors. Within five hundred yards from the winning +post, they are neck and neck. "Pink wins! Saffron wins! Saffron's +beat! Pink's done!" These words are yelled out frantically, and Alfred +suffers a martyrdom. Suddenly the jockey of Don't Touch Me touches his +horse slightly with his spur, and the noble creature bounds to the +front, gaining a full half-length on the Cunning One. But the Cunning +One's jockey raises his whip, and recovers his lost ground. Then +ensues a grand struggle, every foot of ground being contested. They +might be struggling for dear life, or for something dearer. Alfred +follows them with his wild eyes. They pass like a flash of lightning, +so close together that he does not know whether he has won or lost. +His agony is increased by the conflicting cries, "The Cunning One +wins! Don't Touch Me wins!" Which is right? A calm voice says, "I'll +bet fifty to one that pink came in first;" and the speaker receives a +swift grateful look from Alfred. What an age it seems before the black +board is hoisted that proclaims the winner! Here it is at last. +Hurrah! hurrah! The numbers proclaim Don't Touch Me first; the Cunning +One second. Alfred gives a great sigh of relief; his heart was almost +bursting; he wipes his forehead, and looks round with a triumphant +air. The horse he backed has won the race, and he wins a hundred and +seventy pounds. He sees the man from whom he has to receive the +largest stake, and he walks towards him in an apparently unconcerned +manner. The man is studying his book with a serious air; he has a +bulbous face, and every knob on it is aflame, so that it looks like a +mountain dotted with signal fires. Many of the people are eagerly +canvassing the race; some are radiant, some are despairing. Here is +one man tearing betting-tickets with his teeth, and flinging the +pieces away savagely. Here is another, shouting exultantly to an +acquaintance, "Nipped him this time, Jo! I put a tenner on!" Here is +another, scowling at every face that meets his gaze. Here is one who +staggers like a drunken man, but who nevertheless has not tasted +liquor this day. Alfred has no eye for any of these; despair, joy, +exultation, remorse, surge around him, and he does not heed them. He +thinks of himself only, and burns with impatience to hear the magic +cry "All right!" so that he may claim his winnings. Five minutes pass, +and no signal comes from the saddling paddock that it is all right. +What can be the meaning of the delay? Another minute, and another and +another pass----and then comes a cry from the paddock, "Don't pay! An +objection!" The scouts take up the cry, and it is all over the field +in an instant. "Don't pay!" "Don't pay!" rings from one end to +another; the bookmakers shut their books, and look impenetrable; the +excited backers of Don't Touch Me present their tickets for payment to +the keepers of the list outside the ring, and all the satisfaction +they get is "Don't you hear? There's an objection." The curses, the +oaths, are dreadful to hear. Alfred is dazed for a moment. It is not +possible that the cup can be dashed from his lips! He also staggers +like a drunken man, and a sickening feeling comes upon him. "What's +the objection?" he asks of a bookmaker, in a tone that sounds strange +in his own ears. His lips are white, his limbs are trembling, his +heart sinks within him. "Don't Touch Me won the such-and-such Cup a +month ago," is the answer; "incurred a penalty of five pounds, and did +not carry it. The stewards are settling the dispute now. We shall know +in a few minutes, but Don't Touch Me is sure to be disqualified, and +the Cunning One will get the race." The feeling that is upon Alfred is +like the fear that comes to some men whose lives have been ill spent, +and who have not many minutes to live. He walks about, and hears +vaguely the indignant comments of the backers of Don't Touch Me, and +the hopeful anticipations of the backers of the Cunning One. What is +one man's meat is another man's poison. A partisan of Don't Touch Me +is especially noisy. "Strike me blind," he cries, "if it isn't a +plant! The owner didn't back the horse for a shilling. He stands in +with the owner of the Cunning One; and if the Cunning One gets the +race, as he's sure to, they'll divide four thousand between them." How +the objection is settled is not known until after the next race is +run, and then a notice is stuck up that Don't Touch Me is +disqualified, and that the race is awarded to the Cunning one. Thus +Don't Touch Me justifies the warning that lies in his name, and thus +Alfred's castle once more crumbles into dust, and he is robbed of his +money. "What a fool I was," he groans, "not to have been content with +my winnings on Never Despair! What an idiot to back a horse with such +a name!" He sees the warning now, and, almost blind with despair, +stumbles against people, and is pushed aside roughly. But he himself +is not to blame, not he. Fate is against him; ill-luck follows him. +Who could have foreseen such a calamity as this? If it had not been +for this piece of deliberate villany--for so he settled in his mind +that it was--he would have been able to make reparation for his fault, +and to be kind to those he loved. "I did it all for them," he groans. +The pieces of paper with the names of the horses written upon them are +still in his pocket. He puts in his hand, and draws--the Cunning One! +"If I hadn't been so hasty!" he thinks. "I oughtn't to have settled it +the first draw. If I had only tried a second time! I could have got a +thousand pounds to thirty, as that swell did. I should have had two +thousand pounds in my pocket this minute! And I could have done so +much good with the money--for Lil, and Lizzie, and all of us! Fool +that I was! Fool that I was!" And so staggers away, and in these +miserable repinings passes the day and the night that follow. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVI. + + SURPRISES. + + +Alfred remained silent for so long a time, that Lily had to repeat her +question; and again, in a timid tone, she asked him why their +grandfather must not be told of his troubles and joys. Alfred asked +her, in reply, whether she did not have confidence in him, whether she +mistrusted him, whether she thought he had not good reason for what he +said? To all these questions she answered, O, yes, yes; she had full +confidence in him; she trusted him thoroughly; she knew that he must +have the best of reasons for his desire that their grandfather should +not be made acquainted with his secrets. + +"There isn't another person in the world," said Alfred, "that I would +confide in but you; but I could not keep anything secret for long from +the dearest sister that man ever had, and whom I love--well, you know +how I love you, Lily." + +She answered sweetly, "Yes, she knew; had he not given proof of it +this day? She would be worthy of his confidence; he need be sure of +that." Alfred received these heartfelt protestations graciously. + +"I feel better for having spoken to you, and now I shall smoke a +cigar. What do you think Lizzie did the other night, Lil? I asked her +in fun to light my cigar for me, and she actually did, and took a +puff. She didn't like it, though; but she'll do anything for me. +There's one thing I've been thinking of, Lil. When you and Lizzie are +friends--as you're sure to be directly you see each other--it will be +nice for you; for now I think of it, you never had a girl friend, did +you?" + +"There's Mrs. Gribble," answered Lily, "and Mrs. Podmore, and little +Polly----" + +"O yes, they're all very well in their way, but they're married women, +and little Polly's only a child. What I mean is, a girl of your own +age--one that you can say all sorts of things to that you can't say to +any one else." + +"No, I have never had a girl friend; it _would_ be nice." + +"Lizzie's just the girl for you. How I should like to be hidden +somewhere, and hear you talking about ME! Mind you always search under +the table when you're talking secrets, Lil, for I shall look out for +an opportunity to hear what you two girls have to say about me." + +They made merry over this, and extracted from it all kinds of gay +possibilities to suit their humour. + +"You said a little while ago, Alf, that you could make a thousand +pounds as safe as--as safe as----" + +"As safe as nails, Lil. And so I could, and more perhaps, over the +Cesarewitch." + +"The Cesarewitch!" she repeated, curious to know the meaning of so +strange a word. + +"It is a big race that will be run soon--a race worth thousands of +pounds--and I know the horse that's going to win." + +"That's very clever of you, Alfred." + +Alfred nodded, taking full credit to himself. + +"But how can you make a thousand pounds by that, Alf? A thousand +pounds! I never heard of so much money." + +"Little simpleton I'll show you as much one day, and more thousands at +the back of it. How can I make it? Why, I'll tell you. Here I am with +'the tip.' The tip," he continued, noticing her puzzled look, "is the +secret that some of us get hold of as to which horse is going to win a +race." + +"O," was Lily's simple reply. + +"That's what the tip is," said Alfred, with a confident air; he was in +his glory, airing himself on racing matters. "And I've got it for the +Cesarewitch." + +"Do they know, then, beforehand what horse is going to win a race?" + +"Sometimes pretty nearly, you know. Some horses that run haven't a +chance; some are not intended to win----" + +"Is that right, Alf?" + +"Of course it is. If a man has a horse and can't back it, perhaps he +backs another; then of course he doesn't want his own horse to win, +for if it does, he loses his money." + +Lily shook her head. + +"I can't understand it; it doesn't seem right to me; but of course you +know best." + +"Of course I do, Lil. Women are not expected to understand these +things. As to its being not quite right, that's neither here nor +there. What you've got to do is to find out the secret, get into the +swim, and make money. And that's what I've got the chance of doing. +But I haven't explained it all. Here am I with the tip; I know the +horse that's going to win. Well, what do I do, naturally? I bet on +that horse. I put as much money on that horse as ever I can scrape +together, and when the race is over, there I am with my pockets full. +I can get fifty to one on my tip. Think of that, Lil. Fifty to one +against the horse that's sure to win! If I had twenty pounds to-day, I +could get a thousand to twenty, and win it. Only think what I could do +with a thousand. I've got my eye on two lovely gold watches and chains +for Lizzie and you, and I know where there's a stunning diamond ring +to be almost given away." + +"But tell me, Alf! Isn't that gambling? and isn't gambling wrong? I've +heard grandfather say it is." + +"Grandfather!" exclaimed Alfred, contemptuously. "What does +grandfather know of such things? When he was a young man, things were +different. A young fellow didn't have the chance he's got now of +making a fortune in a day, if he's wide awake. That's why I don't want +grandfather to know anything of this, nor anything that I've been +speaking of. And of course you'll not tell him, Lil, for you've +promised." + +"You may depend upon me, dear Alf. It is for your good." + +But she said these last words in a doubting tone. + +"That it is, and for yours, and for Lizzie's, and for grandfather's, +too. As to its being gambling and wrong--now, look here, Lil. You know +what grandfather thinks of the newspapers. You know that he's always +speaking in praise of them, and saying what capital things they are, +and what a blessing it is that a poor man can get all the news of the +world for a penny. You know that, Lil." + +"Yes, dear." + +"Why, it was only last week that grandfather said that the cheap +newspapers were the poor man's best friend and best educator, because +they taught him things and showed him truthfully what was going on +round about him, and that they were doing more in their quiet way for +the improvement of the people than anything he ever remembered in his +time." + +"Yes, dear, I heard him say so." + +"To be sure you did. Well, then, you look in the newspapers, and +see what they say of racing. Why, they give columns upon columns +about it! They employ regular prophets and tipsters, and pay 'em +handsomely--regular fly men, who think they know every move on the +board; and they tell you what horses to back, and what horses are +going to win. They _are_ educators and improvers, I can tell you, Lil! +And they tell a fellow lots of things worth knowing--though I don't +follow them always; not I! I know as much as they do sometimes, and a +little more, perhaps. But I read them; I read every word the prophets +write. Why, I spend sixpence a day often in papers; if it wasn't for +what the prophets write in them, I don't suppose I'd spend a penny." + +If Alfred had said that the columns devoted in the newspapers to the +vaticinations of the prophets were his Bible, he would have been as +near to the truth as he ever was in his life. The lessons they taught +were bearing bitter fruit. Not for him alone; for thousands of others. + +"There's the Cambridgeshire and the Cesarewitch," continued Alfred, +"going to be run for soon. All the best horses in England are engaged. +There won't be less than three columns about each race in some of the +newspapers, and people get to know which horses have the best chances, +and which horses are sure to run straight. Though, to be sure, you +never can depend upon that. You must keep your eyes open. But come +now, Lily, ain't you satisfied that there's nothing wrong in a young +fellow doing a little betting now and then?" + +"I don't see how there can be any wrong in it after what you've told +me, Alf." + +"And after what grandfather said," he added. + +"Yes, and after what grandfather said, my dear." + +"So then," he summed up, "that's where it is." + +Which was Alfred's almost invariable way of disposing of a question. + +"And here I have a chance," he presently resumed, "of getting out of +all my money troubles, and of making everything straight for you and +Lizzie, and all of us." + +"But," insisted Lily, "I am very happy, Alf." + +"Well, I'm going to make you happier, Lil. But you can't be quite +happy, Lil, when I am in trouble." + +"O, no, my dear," she said quickly: "I forgot. Forgive me for my +selfishness. But you'll be out of it soon." + +"It depends a good deal upon you, Lil." + +"How upon me, dear?" + +"Well, I don't quite know if it depends upon you, but it may, and of +course I'm anxious! for to tell you the truth, I owe some money which +I _must_ pay very soon, or it will be all up with me." + +"O, Alfred!" + +"It's true, Lil, every word I'm telling you. My contemptible screw at +the office melts away without my knowing how it goes. Besides, what's +fifteen shillings a week? Fifteen shillings! When I have the +opportunity of making thousands of pounds! Grandfather says, 'Think of +the future;' but I say, 'Think of the present.' Grandfather preaches +to me about the career that such an office as Tickle and Flint's opens +out to me, if I am steady and study hard. As if he knew anything about +it! A nice career indeed! Why Tickle and Flint, the pair of 'em, are +like two musty old Brazil nuts. Old Flint looks as if he hasn't got a +drop of blood in his body; I don't believe, if you pricked him, that +you'd get a drop out of him. Well, he came to that, I suppose, because +he was steady and worked hard, and never saw a bit of life, and never +enjoyed himself; never wasted a minute, I daresay; a precious steady +young card he must have been when he was my age, poking his nose over +his law books, which give me a splitting headache only to look at 'em. +You should see what he's grown into, Lil, by being steady and studying +hard. He can't see an inch before his nose; his clothes are as musty +as himself. Now, I put it to you, Lil," he said, with an effort at +merriment, "would you like to see me like that? Would you like to see +me, as he is, bent double, old, snuffy, musty, with a voice like a +penny tin-whistle that's got a crack in it? Would you like to see me +like an old Brazil nut? You know the kind I mean: they're very brown +and very wrinkly; when you crack 'em, you find that they're filled +with dust which almost chokes you." + +"No, no," replied Lily amused with the description and with the +vivacity with which Alfred gave it; "that I shouldn't indeed, Alf." + +"Well then," said Alfred, pleased with his brilliant effort, and +concluding as usual, "that's where it is." + +"You haven't told me all yet," said Lily quietly, after a pause. + +"I've got nothing new to tell you, Lil dear," he said, biting his +nails nervously; "you know that, with the exception of you and Lizzie, +I have only one friend in the world." + +"Mr. Sheldrake, you mean." + +"Who else? I should have been floored long ago if it hadn't been for +him. If he was to throw me over I should have to run from the country, +or hide myself, or do something worse perhaps." + +She caught his hand in deep alarm, and begged him not to speak in that +dreadful manner. "You make me so unhappy, Alfred," she said, with +difficulty checking her tears. + +"I don't want to, I'm sure," he replied gloomily; "I want to make you +happy. I've got no one else to sympathise with me but you. I can't +tell Lizzie all these things. It would make me look small, and no man +likes to look so in the eyes of the girl he's fond of. Supposing you +were me, Lil, how would you feel?" + +Terribly perplexed at these alternations of feeling, Lily said +whatever she could to comfort him. + +"Tell me what I can do, Alfred?" she implored. "A good deal depends +upon me, you say. If it does, dear, although I cannot see the meaning +of your words, you may be sure that you will get comfortably through +all your difficulties. We have been everything to each other all our +lives. Do you think there is anything you would ask me to do for you +that I would refuse?" + +"No," replied Alfred triumphantly, "I am sure there is not. It is +ungrateful of me to doubt you even for a moment. Everything will come +right--you'll see! Why Lily--look yonder! Is not that Mr. Sheldrake +coming along? Yes, it is, by Jove! Almost the best friend I have in +the world. How strange, now, that he should appear just as we have +been talking of him!" + +With perfect trustfulness, Lily said, "Yes, it was strange;" and if +her eyes sought the ground, and a troubled feeling took possession of +her breast, it was not because she doubted the brother whom she loved +with all her heart. Doubt him! No. She was too guileless, too +unsuspicious, too simple in her nature, to doubt where she gave her +love. But she could not banish the feeling of uneasiness that stole +upon her when Mr. Sheldrake came in view, and she could not help +hoping he might turn away before he noticed them. But her hope was not +to be fulfilled. Mr. Sheldrake, walking in the centre of a broad patch +of sunlight, strolled leisurely towards them; apparently he was in an +idle mood, for he stopped every two minutes, and gazed about him with +a bright look and with the air of one who was gratefully enjoying the +beauty of the scene. It was singular that he never once looked before +him, and he must therefore have been unconscious of the presence of +Lily and Alfred. His grateful mood took a benevolent turn presently, +for observing an old woman humbly dressed walking in the shadow of the +trees, he called to her, and gave her a small piece of silver. Truly +we are a nation of beggars. Strictly speaking this old woman was not a +beggar, but she accepted the money with a thankful curtsey. Then Mr. +Sheldrake paused before a couple of birds which were hopping about on +the ground, contemplating them as though he derived pleasure in all +such pretty things, and when they left the ground, he followed their +flight with a pleasant smile. In this manner, giving full play to his +benevolent instincts, only because he was conscious that he was not +being observed, Mr. Sheldrake approached Lily and Alfred. He was quite +close to them before he looked up and recognised them. + +"What--Alfred! Miss Lily!" he exclaimed. "This is indeed a surprise! +and a pleasure," he added, as he raised his hat and bowed to Lily, +and shook hands with her and Alfred; then asked of Alfred gaily, +"What brings _you_ into the woods? You ought to be reckoning up +six-and-eightpence! This is not a fit place for lawyers, is it, Miss +Lily? They're not in keeping with birds, and trees, and blue clouds. +They ought to be locked up in offices filled with cobwebs. But I never +thought Alfred was cut out for a lawyer--did you?" + +He addressed Lily, and she, having in her mind Alfred's description of +his employer, Mr. Flint, replied, "No, indeed!" and looked at her +brother affectionately. Alfred, however, was not quite at his ease; he +appeared to be a little disturbed by Mr. Sheldrake's expressions of +surprise at seeing them. + +"If anything could have given me an additional pleasure," continued +Mr. Sheldrake, with a warning look at Alfred, "the height of +pleasure, I may say, it is the surprise of coming upon: you both so +unexpectedly--in such a totally unexpected manner. I am an idle dog, +Miss Lily, and I often take it in my head to run into the country for +a day's quiet ramble. There is so much to enjoy in the country; it is +so much better than the smoke and whirl of London. Don't you think +so?" + +Lily could not help agreeing with him, and she said as much. + +"Here we are agreeing upon almost everything," he said, with another +of his pleasant smiles; "agreeing that Alfred is not cut out for a +lawyer; agreeing that the country is so much better than London. That +we have something in unison is, believe me, an honour I appreciate." + +His manner was perfectly respectful, and Lily's first feeling of +discomfort at his appearance was wearing away. Everything was in +his favour. He was Alfred's friend, and must be really attached to her +brother, as was proved by his acts; he had given money to a poor +woman, and the manner in which he regarded the birds was unmistakable +evidence that he possessed a kindly nature. Then the stories which +Alfred had told her of Mr. Sheldrake's benevolence recurred to her, +and she was disposed to be angry with herself for being uncharitably +disposed towards him. Certainly she had done him an injustice; +certainly she owed him reparation. And so she spoke to him in such +tones as thrilled him to hear. She told him of Alfred's kindness, of +how she had enjoyed herself; how much she loved the country, and how +she would like to live in it always. + +"But then we have everything we wish for," she said sweetly. + +"You ought to have," said Mr. Sheldrake gallantly, "your wishes are so +simple. It is only a question of money." + +"But what a teasing question that is!" she remarked, thinking of +Alfred's troubles. + +Mr. Sheldrake replied warmly that it was a burning shame (Lily was +accustomed to hear such phrases from Alfred's lips, and therefore they +did not sound strange to her coming from Mr. Sheldrake); if he had his +way, he would take from those who had too much to give to those who +had too little; things were unequal, that's what they were. Why should +people be condemned to wish, when their wishes were reasonable and +good, as Lily's wishes were? If there was one thing that would delight +him more than another, it would be to be allowed the privilege of +helping her to what she most desired. But that, of course, could not +be; the conventionalities of society stepped in and said, "You must +not." Was that not so? Lily said, "Yes, it was so," without at all +understanding what he meant by his rodomontade. + +"O, by-the-way, Alfred," said Mr. Sheldrake, after a few minutes' +conversation of this description, "I have a note for you." + +Alfred started like a guilty thing, for in his excited state every +little unexpected event brought alarm with it. He crushed the note in +his hand without looking at it, without daring to look at it. What +could it contain? Was it from Con Staveley, reminding him of the +acceptance so nearly due, and which he had not the means of paying? Or +was it from Mr. Sheldrake himself, reminding him of his obligation to +that gentleman? He was in such distress and trouble that he could not +conceive it could contain any good news. + +"Why don't you read it?" asked Mr. Sheldrake, with a smile. "We'll +excuse you." + +Alfred stepped behind a tree, so that he might hide his agitation. +His heart beat wildly as he looked at the writing on the +envelope--beat wildly, not with distress, but with surprise and +pleasure. Opening the note hastily, he read, "Dear Alfred,--I am +waiting for you. Mr. Sheldrake will tell you where I am.--Your own +LIZZIE." And then of course came a postscript: "What a kind good +friend Mr. Sheldrake is!" Alfred read the note twice, and with a +beaming face came towards Mr. Sheldrake. + +"Well!" said that kind good friend. "Alfred seems pleased at +something, doesn't he, Miss Lily? Good news in the note, Alf?" + +His voice was full of hearty good-nature, and Lily was more remorseful +than ever for the injustice she had done him in not thinking +thoroughly well of him. + +"What does this mean?" asked Alfred, drawing Mr. Sheldrake aside. + +"How do I know?" was the reply. "I haven't read the note." + +"But you know who it's from?" + +"O yes; I saw her write it." + +"Where is she?" + +"Very near us, my boy--within a few hundred yards of this very spot." + +"Here!" exclaimed Alfred. "How did she come here?" + +"I brought her," replied Mr. Sheldrake with a pleasant chuckle. + +"You!" + +"You sly dog! Did you think I didn't know your secret? I scented it +long ago, but I didn't let on. And as two's company and three's none, +I thought you would like to have Lizzie to spend the afternoon with +you. There'll be four of us now--two and two--just as it should be. +You are a sly one, Alf. Well, never mind; you've got one of the +prettiest little girls I ever set eyes on. I made the arrangement with +her yesterday, and made her promise not to tell you, and not to spoil +the pleasant surprise. Then I thought what a capital opportunity it +would be for you to make her and your sister acquainted with one +another. What do you think of me now? Am I a good friend?" + +"A good friend!" exclaimed Alfred. "The best of friends!" and became +almost outrageously effusive in his expressions of gratitude. + +"And look here," said Mr. Sheldrake, "about that little acceptance of +Con Staveley's, if you want time----" + +"I do! I do!" interrupted Alfred eagerly. "I'm rather hard pressed +just now, but I shall be all right presently. I've got the tip for the +Cesarewitch, and I shall make a pot of money. Can you manage it for me +with Con Staveley? I didn't like to ask you, but to tell you the +truth, I didn't know which way to turn." + +"Very well; I'll manage it for you, for Lily's sake. Don't worry +yourself about it." + +And then he told Alfred that Lizzie, looking as fresh as a +peach--"You mustn't be jealous of me, Alf," he said--was waiting for +him outside an inn opposite the entrance to Bushey Park. "Run off to +her," he said; "Lily and I will wait for you here. You needn't hurry; +I'll take care of Lily. We'll have a bit of dinner together, the four +of us, and a row on the river, perhaps." + +With radiant face Alfred hastened to Lily. + +"I sha'n't be gone long, Lil," he said, kissing her. "Wait here with +Mr. Sheldrake. I've got such a surprise for you. I don't believe any +man ever had a more out-and-out friend than Mr. Sheldrake is to me. I +want you to be very, very happy--as I am, my dear sis, my dear little +Lil!" + +He kissed her again, and left her with springing step. Lily was +in a flutter of joy at his bright manner, and could not but feel +grateful to Mr. Sheldrake for bringing such happiness to her brother. +But, being left alone with him for the first time during their +acquaintance, she did not feel quite at her ease, and it was while she +was listening--with eyes cast modestly to the ground--to Mr. +Sheldrake's soft tones, that Felix caught sight of her. She did not +see him; all her attention was fixed upon Mr. Sheldrake's words. + +"Yes, my dear Miss Lily," he was saying, "I am glad of the opportunity +of doing Alfred a good turn; if he had no other claim upon me, he is +your brother. I should like to see the man who would want a stronger +argument than that. I dare say you know that he is a little bit +harassed in money matters; but we'll pull him through, and when he's +all right, I hope he'll know whom he has to thank for it." + +"You," said Lily. + +"No, my dear Miss Lily," Mr. Sheldrake, with the slightest shade of +tenderness in his tone; "it is you he will have to thank. Or stay," he +added gaily, "suppose we say that he has to thank the pair of us. +Suppose we say that we are working together--you and I--for Alfred's +good. Shall we say so?" + +"If you wish," said Lily faintly. + +"That's a bargain," exclaimed Mr. Sheldrake heartily. "We enter into +a compact to work together for Alfred's good. I'm sure he deserves it, +for he's a good fellow, and such a partner as I've got can't ask +anything that I would refuse. Let us shake hands on it." + +Lily held out her hand, and Mr. Sheldrake pressed it tenderly. + +"And now, my dear Miss Lily, where do you think Alfred has gone to +now?" + +"I don't know. He seemed very excited, all of a sudden, and very +happy." + +"He ought to be. Do you know he has a sweetheart, the happy fellow? +Has he told you about Lizzie?" + +"Yes, he told me only this morning." + +"He will be here directly with her. She is waiting outside the park +gates for him. Are you not pleased?" + +She gave him for answer a bright, happy look. + +It was then that Felix turned away. He did not know, of course, what +had passed between Lily and Mr. Sheldrake. But he had seen that, when +they shook hands, Lily had held out hers first; and he saw, as he +turned his head, the bright look which flashed into Lily's eyes as Mr. +Sheldrake told her that Lizzie was near. + + +Something else of interest to him was taking place almost +simultaneously, at a short distance from where he stood. Outside the +park gates a company of street acrobats had halted, and having beaten +the drum and spread their little bit of carpet, were going through +their performances before an admiring audience. Among their audience +was Lizzie, who took great delight in street exhibitions. She was +dressed in her best clothes, and looked, as Mr. Sheldrake had said, as +fresh as a peach. Her whole attention was not given to the performers, +for she looked about her every now and then, expectant of some one. +But she did not see that she was being watched. From the opposite side +of the crowd an elderly woman, with a pale troubled face, dressed in +black, was observing Lizzie's every movement, and following the girl's +every motion with anxious eyes. This woman was Martha Day, housekeeper +to the Reverend Emanuel Creamwell. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVII. + + FELIX COMFORTS MARTHA DAY. + + +In a very flutter of delight, Alfred hurried to the spot where Lizzie +was waiting for him. He did not pause to reflect upon the strange +manner in which she had been brought to the place; it was sufficient +for him that she was here, that the day was bright, and that Mr. +Sheldrake had promised him to see that his acceptance to Con Staveley +would be made all right. "It is only for a little while," he said to +himself, as he came to the gates of Bushey Park; "when the Cesarewitch +is run, I shall be all right. I daresay Sheldrake will put something +on for me." Attracted by the crowd assembled round the street +acrobats, he paused, and saw Lizzie. He saw also a pale-looking woman +on the opposite side observing her; but this did not strike him as +being worthy of notice. He looked round at the men and women who were +admiringly following the movements of the acrobats, and noticed, with +a feeling of as much pride as pleasure, that Lizzie was the most +attractive and prettiest of them all. + +"Lizzie!" he whispered in her ear. + +"O, Alfred!" + +The girl turned at the sound of his voice with such unrestrained +joy in her face, that Martha Day bit her colourless lip until a +blood-stain came upon it. + +"Who ever expected to see you here, Lizzie?" + +"Are you disappointed?" asked Lizzie archly. "If you are, I'll go back +again." + +In earnest of her sincerity, she took his arm, and clung to it. Alfred +laughed. + +"It looks as if you wanted to go back," he said, with admiring glances +at her. + +"O, Alfred, isn't this a delightful surprise?" + +He nodded, and heedless of the people about them, took her hand in +his. But she, more immediately conscious of the proprieties, gave his +hand a little squeeze, and withdrew her own. She had on a new hat and +a new dress, and she wanted him to admire them. + +"Do you like my new hat, Alf?" + +"Upon my word, I didn't notice it, Lizzie." + +"O!" was her comment, in a tone of disappointment. + +"I couldn't see anything but your face, Lizzie." + +"Ah!" was her comment, in a tone of gratification, with love-sparkles +in her eyes. + +"It's very pretty," he said. + +"My face or my bonnet, Alf?" + +"I should like to hug you, Lizzie," was his crooked answer. + +"But you mustn't," she said, with ripples in her voice. "So many +people looking! Give me twopence, Alf." + +"What for?" he asked, giving her the coppers. + +"For the conjurers--because I feel so happy." + +A juvenile member of the company had just tied himself into a knot, +and having untied himself, Lizzie beckoned to him and gave him the +money, the good example being immediately followed by others of the +on-lookers. + +"You've brought them luck, Lizzie." + +"I'm glad of it." + +But the hat question was not yet settled. She directed his attention +to it. + +"I made it myself last night, Alf. I want to know if it becomes me." + +"It's just the kind of hat that I should have bought for you," he +said. + +"I made this dress, too. Do you like it? Feel what nice soft stuff it +is." + +He squeezed her arm. + +"I like what is in it best," he said. + +"What's that?" she asked coquettishly. + +"You." + +"O, I daresay," with a saucy toss of her head. "But it's the dress I +want to know about." + +"It's the very prettiest dress I ever saw." + +"I thought you would like it;" and then she inquired anxiously, "It +isn't too short, is it?" + +With a lover's jealousy, he said he thought it might be a trifle +longer. + +"Goose!" she exclaimed, with an air of superior wisdom. "As if you +knew anything about it! If I had ugly feet, of course I should have +made it a little longer. Perhaps I _have_ got ugly feet." + +"O!" he said. "You've got the prettiest feet in the world." + +Accepting this statement (with feminine logic) as a decision in her +favour respecting the length of the dress, she said, + +"I'm glad you're pleased with it; I never made anything for myself +without considering whether you will like it. Just see if my panier is +right, Alf." + +He said, with a critical eye that her panier was just the thing. + +Martha Day noted this comedy with wistful gaze. To them it was the +pleasantest of plays--to her the dreariest. + +"So that, take me altogether, Alf," said Lizzie, "you think I'll do?" + +"If you speak like that, Lizzie, I _shall_ hug you. I won't be able +not to." (Most ungrammatical, but very expressive.) + +"If you're not quiet, Alf, I shall run away." + +"And now tell me; I want to know all about it. When Mr. Sheldrake gave +me your note I was regularly knocked over. I had to read it twice +before I could make sure. How long have you known Mr. Sheldrake? And +how did you come to know him? And how did he find out about you and +me?" + +Lovers are never tired of asking questions. In this respect they +resembled the character of the American people, which, if I were asked +to define tersely, I should define thus: ? + +"It's like a delightful fairy story," said Lizzy. + +"Nonsense, Lizzie. _Do_ be sensible." + +"It isn't nonsense, Alf. It really and truly is like a delightful +fairy story, and if you don't think so, I'll not tell you anything +about it." + +"I'll say it's like anything, if you'll only tell me all about it." + +"Well, then, I must commence properly. Once upon a time----" Here she +paused, in the most tantalising manner, and asked, "Where do I live?" + +"Why, where you lived the last time I was at your place." + +"How long ago is that?" with an air of not having the most remote idea +as to whether it was a day, or a week, or a year. + +"This day last week, you little tease." + +"Was it?" as though she really had no idea. "Perhaps you're right. +Well, everything's altered since then. I don't live there any longer. +But, Alfred, isn't your sister here?" + +"Yes," he answered, not knowing what to make of her humour. + +"Oughtn't we to go to her? I hope she'll like me." + +"She loves you already, for my sake, Lizzie. She told me so, and is +longing to see you. But we've no occasion to hurry. We'll walk slowly, +and then you can tell me your fairy story." + +"Well," she said, with a smile at once bewitching and tender, "you're +a dear patient boy, and now I'll be good and tell you all about it. +Once upon a time----" + +They turned, and walked towards the entrance of Bushey Park. So +interested were they in Lizzie's fairy story, that they did not notice +Felix, who brushed quite close by them. He saw them, however, and saw +at the same moment what was a greater astonishment to him--Martha Day, +with a face like death, watching the lovers with misery in her eyes. + +"Martha!" he cried, "how strange to meet you here, and at such a +time!" + +She made no reply to his expression of surprise, and did not seem to +think it strange that he should make his appearance at that moment. +Taking, almost mechanically, the hand he held out to her, she clasped +it firmly, and made a movement in the direction of the park gates. But +Felix, not knowing what was her intention, held back. He had no desire +to play the part of spy upon Lily's brother. + +"Why do you restrain me?" asked Martha, in a low voice. + +"I don't wish to restrain you, Martha," replied Felix; "but I cannot +go in that direction for a minute or two. You appear to me not to +quite know what you are about. What is it you want, and what is the +matter with you?" + +"You passed close by them?" pointing after Lizzie and Alfred. + +"Yes." + +"And saw them?" + +"Yes." + +"What do they look like?" + +"Like sweethearts, I should say, Martha." + +An expression of pain escaped from Martha's lips. + +"Do _you_ know them, Martha?" + +"I know one." + +"Which one?" + +"The girl. I must not lose sight of her." + +Again she made a movement in the direction of the retreating forms of +the lovers, and again Felix held her back. She had clasped his hand so +firmly during the time that he could not release it without being +rough. + +"If you follow them," he said, "you must go alone. What is this girl +to you?" + +"She is my life--my soul!" cried Martha passionately, wringing her +hands. + +Seeing that her passion was attracting the attention of the +bystanders, Felix drew her away gently towards the park, in the +direction which Lizzie and Alfred had taken. Felix had not had much +experience of Martha; but what little he had seen of her in his +father's house had so decidedly exhibited her in the character of a +cold passionless woman, whom scarcely anything could move to strong +emotion, that this present experience of her filled him with surprise. +It was a new revelation to him. Martha had exhibited much affection +for him, and he was disposed to assist her to the utmost extent of his +power. There had always been something odd and strange in her +behaviour to him; but he had ascribed this to her eccentric manner. He +had, however, never seen any signs in her of the stormy currents of +feeling which she now exhibited, and which were brought into play by +the girl whom he had just passed, and he had seen for the first time. +What connection could exist between that bright girl and the pale sad +woman by his side, whose whole life appeared to have been one of +self-restraint? He asked himself the question, but he was unable to +answer it. They walked slowly along, she being contented to allow him +to take the lead, because she could see Lizzie's dress fluttering in +the distance. Felix took care to keep well out of sight, and when +Lizzie and Alfred reached the spot where Mr. Sheldrake and Lily were +sitting, paused also, and looked about for a seat for Martha. + +"I will sit here, Felix," she said, seating herself where she could +see the movements of the party in the distance; she had somewhat +recovered herself, but was pale and trembling still. + +Felix waited for her to speak. He had lost sight of his own troubles +and his own misgivings in the contemplation of Martha's grief and +agitation; but as he stood leaning against a tree, with his face +towards the woman he loved with all his strength, they came back upon +him. The subject they involved was so near to him, so dear, so inwoven +in his heart, that it was impossible for it to be absent from his mind +now for any but a brief space of time. He had not yet been able to +think it over and to place a construction upon what he had seen. But +although clouds were gathering about him, he had already committed +himself to one determination--not to allow himself to be blinded by +unworthy doubts. He had extracted a promise from Lily's grandfather, +had pledged himself, as it were, and the old man had put a trust in +him. It was not in his nature to betray a trust, nor to give way to +mean suspicions. Suspicions! Of Lily, and her truth and innocence! No, +indeed. "I have watched her from infancy," the old man had said, "and +I know her purity. I pray that she may be spared from life's hard +trials: but they may come to her, as they come to most of us. They may +come to her undeservedly, and through no fault of hers; and if they +do, and if, like Imogen, she has to pass through the fire, she will, +like Imogen, come out unscathed." The full sense of these words came +upon Felix now, and were of themselves sufficient to hold in arrest +his judgment upon what he had witnessed. But this influence was not +needed, and it was a proof of the chivalry of his nature that, even as +these words recurred to him, he should turn his face from the woman he +loved. + +There are a class of men who have no belief in generous feeling. It is +an article of faith with these clever ones of the world to believe +that there is something unworthily selfish or base at the bottom of +every action; but this is not the only false creed extant. The +quixotism which they sneer at often contains a kernel of much nobility +and sweetness. Felix was to a certain extent quixotic; he was even, +according to a certain mistaken interpretation of the term, a +sentimentalist. But he was no rhapsodist; he indulged in dreams, but +he did not allow his imagination to steal a march upon his reason and +distort it. His mind was a logical one; and the course he had taken +with his father proved that he could be firm and faithful to an idea. +In the few brief moments of silence that elapsed he was busy piecing +together many things in connection with Lily, deduced chiefly from +what had been said by her grandfather regarding her. "To her, as to +others," the old man had said, "life's troubles may come. To her may +come one day the sweet and bitter experience of love. When it does, I +pray to God that she may give her heart to one who will be worthy of +her--to one who holds not lightly, as is unhappily too much the +fashion now, the sacred duties of life." In the very interview in +which these words were spoken, the old man had said to Felix, "You +would give me faith if I needed it. It would have been my greatest +pride to have had such a son." Swiftly upon this came the old man's +advice to Felix to follow Lily and Alfred to Hampton Court. These +things and the unexpressed meanings they conveyed--(here intruded the +question asked by Felix, whether the brother and sister had gone to +Hampton Court by themselves, and the old man's answer, Yes)--were so +opposed to what might not unreasonably have been inferred from the +attitude of Lily and Mr. Sheldrake to each other, that Felix, with +characteristic quixotism, refused to accept the interpretation that +most other men would have put upon the discovery. His thoughts having +arrived at this climax, he was prevented from going farther by Martha +speaking to him. She had watched with earnest eyes the meeting between +Lizzie and Lily, and seemed to derive consolation from the way the +girls took to each other. She was calmer now, and directed Felix's +attention to the two girls, with their arms round each other's waists, +drawing a little apart from the men. + +"I see," said Felix, also appearing to derive satisfaction from the +companionship of the girls; "but I am in the dark as yet. If you can +trust me----" + +"Trust you, Felix! I would trust you with my life!" + +"You might, and with anything else as dear to you. Who is that young +lady?" + +"My niece." With a steady look at Felix, and with the slightest bit of +colour in her face. + +"Your niece! I had an idea that you had no relations. I never heard +you speak of any." + +"No, Felix." (She was fast recovering her composure.) "But that does +not prevent my having a niece." + +"I can tell by your manner that you love her very dearly, Martha." + +"If she were my daughter, Felix, I could not love her more." The +composure of her face and manner was wonderful to witness, after her +late exhibition of passion and anxiety. "I love the girl you see +before you with as intense a love as if I had suckled her at my +breast, and as if all other ties upon me (if I ever had any), all +other demands upon my love, had passed out of my life. Rather than see +her come to harm"----(she stretched out her hands, which now were +slightly trembling, and strove hard to preserve her quiet calm +demeanour; but she could not quite succeed, as the tremor in her voice +testified.) "Rather than see her come to harm, I would choose to have +these fingers torn from my hands, joint by joint; I would submit to +any suffering, to any indignity; I would live my unhappy life over a +hundred times, and be a hundred times more unhappy than I have been. I +don't know what could be dictated to me that I would not do for her +sake." + +The passion of her words and the forced calm of her voice presented a +strange contrast. Felix listened in wonder. + +"Does she know you are here, Martha?" + +"No." + +"How did you come upon her, then?" + +"I followed her from London. Chance alone befriended me. Yesterday I +went to where she lived, and I was told she had moved." + +"Where did she live?" + +It was no surprise to hear her mention the street and the very house +in which he had his lodgings, for as he asked the question he +remembered how, on the first night of his taking up his quarters +there, he had seen Martha pass swiftly out of the street-door as he +was about to open it. He had not been very curious about the other +lodgers in the house, being wishful that they should not be curious +about him; but on two or three occasions he had seen a girl go up the +stairs past his landing--a young graceful girl, who might have been +Lizzie--who indeed, he settled in his own mind now, was Lizzie, +although he had never seen her face. He said nothing of this to +Martha, except that he knew the street. + +"You went to where Lizzie lived, and were told that she had moved----" + +"Lizzie had already told me so in a letter she wrote to me, and she +said in it that in a day or two she would tell me more. But I could +not rest after I received the letter. Here it is, Felix; read it." + +She took a letter from the bosom of her dress, and gave it to him. In +the distance, the two girls, having drawn still further apart from +Alfred and Mr. Sheldrake, were standing within the shadow of a great +chestnut tree, the branches of which bent over them protectingly; +their attitude bespoke the exercise of much affectionate feeling. +Lizzie was speaking with animation, and Lily was listening, with a +smile on her face. Alfred and Mr. Sheldrake were also engaged in +conversation; their faces were towards the girls, and every now and +then Alfred gave them a pleasant nod, and received smiles and bright +glances in return. + +"She writes a good hand," observed Felix, opening the letter. + +"She has had a good education." + +"That speaks well for her mother." + +"She has no remembrance of her mother." + +"Then she owes it all to you, Martha." + +"All to me, Felix," replied Martha quietly; "but read." + +Felix read: + + +"My dear Aunty,--It is nearly twelve o'clock at night, and I am very +tired and sleepy. But before I go to bed I want to talk to you, and as +you are not here for me to tease you, I must write a letter. Now I +daresay you wonder what about--_I_ should, if I were you!--although I +know you are always glad to get a letter from me, whether there is +anything in it or not. But I really have something to say to you now; +something very, _very_ particular, although it will puzzle you, for I +can only tell you a bit of it. You shall know the rest when you come +to London, which I hope will be soon, but not until I write you +another letter to tell you where to come to. I am going to move, aunty +dear, into a nice house, where I'm going to be very happy and +comfortable; and although I said at first that I must tell you about +it before I did it, I have been persuaded to wait until it was done, +so that I might give you a real pleasant surprise. Now, this is to +tell you just so much, and no more,--and to tell you, too, that you +mustn't be the least bit uneasy about me. We shall be nicely settled +in a very few days, and then I shall write to you to come and see me. +I fancy I see you walking in and looking about in astonishment, you +dear aunty! I wish we could always live together, and that I could +show you how much I love you, and how grateful I am for all your care +of me. Perhaps that time will come, eh, dear aunty?--Now I must wish +you good-night, for I feel so sleepy. Good-night; God bless you.--From +your happy and affectionate LIZZIE." + + +"When I received that letter yesterday," said Martha when Felix +returned it to her, "I cannot describe to you the misery it brought to +me. Lizzie had made a change in her life once before without my +knowing, and she promised me then, seeing the unhappiness it caused +me, always to consult me in any matter of importance. She has not done +so; I have seen her to-day with two men who are utter strangers to me; +she has never mentioned their names to me; and one is evidently more +to her than an ordinary friend or acquaintance." + +"Calm yourself, Martha," said Felix, in sincere compassion for her +distress of mind; "you are wasting your strength." + +"What can my poor Lizzie know of the heartlessness and cruelty of the +world? What can she know of the falseness of fair words, and of the +base thoughts that a smiling face can cover? O Felix, I have felt it! +I know what it is; I have suffered from it cruelly. She was going to +move into a nice house, she says in her letter. What do these words +mean? I tortured myself with putting meanings to them. It was +impossible for me to get to London yesterday, and I had to wait until +this morning. O, what a weary night I passed, Felix--what a weary, +weary night! I lay in the dark, and the tick of the old clock in the +passage almost maddened me, it was so slow. I did not have a moment's +sleep--you can see that in my face. I must have dressed myself at +least half a dozen times. How I prayed for the morning to come! Of all +the nights of agony I have passed--and I have had many, Felix; my life +has been hard and cold and bitter--that was the worst, and the most +unhappy!" + +She paused for a moment after this lament. + +"Bitter as my life has been, I have borne it patiently, +uncomplainingly, as long as I was sure that Lizzie was well and happy. +There was my comfort; there is now my suffering. O, Felix, what pain +there is in love--what pain, what pain!" + +Felix recalled her to herself by a gentle touch of his hand. + +"I know, Felix, I know; I cannot help it. I have such a weary pain +here." + +"Rest a little," he said, "before you proceed." + +But she continued. + +"The morning came at last, thank God--it came at last! And then again +I had to wait until the train left Stapleton. I arrived in London +before ten o'clock, and went straight to the house where Lizzie +lodged. I saw the landlady. She told me that Lizzie had left, and that +another lodger of hers had also left at the same time. This other +lodger was an old man, she said, and she did think it a little strange +that they should both have given warning at the same time. Did she +know where Lizzie had gone to? I asked. No, she did not know. I was +turning away, when I thought of the old man. Did she know where he was +gone to? No, she didn't know the number of the house, nor the street; +but a few days ago the old man had let drop a word or two, which led +her to suppose he was going to live near a certain place about four +miles from London. I thought, if I could find this old man, he might +be able to tell me where Lizzie was. I arrived in the locality; I rode +there in a cab. But it seemed to me that I might as well have been in +a wilderness for all the clue I could obtain as to where the old man +lived. As I was searching and inquiring, with such little success that +I became sick and faint, I suddenly saw a figure a long way before me. +I knew it immediately--I should have known it among a thousand. It was +Lizzie. But she was not alone. A gentleman was with her, and I did not +wish to make my girl angry by speaking to her in the presence of a +stranger. I followed them. They seemed to be very happy, and talked +and laughed with light hearts; while I with my heavy load hung behind, +so that they should not see me. They stopped at a railway-station, and +the gentleman left Lizzie standing on the platform, and came along to +the ticket-window to get tickets. My veil was down, and as I did not +know him, it was not likely that he would know me, even if he saw my +face; so I mustered sufficient courage to approach close to him, and +heard him ask for tickets for Hampton Court. I took a ticket also for +this place, and came in the same train, but not in the same carriage. +I was alone in the carriage, and I had plenty of time to think what it +was best for me to do. I was a long time before I made up my mind; and +then I decided that it would be best for me not to discover myself to +Lizzie unless I was compelled. My girl was keeping some part of her +life from me, I thought, and I should know better how to act if I +found out what it was. I had never seen this gentleman before, had +never heard of him from Lizzie. He looked like a gentleman, but +still like that kind of gentleman that it would not be wise for a girl +in Lizzie's position to know too well. I thought of the temptations +which surrounded a young girl like Lizzie--she is very, very pretty, +dear girl!--in a great city like London. Imagine my agony. After all, +girls are girls; they like pleasure and excitement; and Lizzie was +living by herself. But I dared not think long upon this; it weighed +upon me too much. We alighted at Hampton Court, and I followed my dear +girl and the gentleman cautiously. They stopped at an inn--the inn +before which the street conjurers were playing. The gentleman said a +few words to Lizzie, and left her. Just then the conjurers came and +began to make preparations for performing. Lizzie came out to see +them--she is very fond of street sights, dear child!--and I stood +apart from her in the crowd watching her. I don't know how long a time +passed before the young man came up to her; but it was like a knife in +my heart to see the joy in Lizzie's face when he spoke to her. I never +thought it possible I could have felt pain to see my girl look bright +and happy. And you may wonder, Felix, why I suffered so; you may +wonder why I should not rejoice in my girl's pleasures. But think for +a moment--think of the misery it caused me to learn that Lizzie had +been hiding things from me. If she kept this from my knowledge, as she +has done, may she not have kept other things? If you knew how wretched +it makes me to hear myself speaking like this of her--if you knew +Felix, you would pity me. But I wouldn't say it to any one else but +you; and I know that I am mistaken, and that my girl is good and true. +They talked together for a little while, and I saw her ask him for +some money to give to the performers. It was like her, dear child she +has the tenderest heart! Soon afterwards they walked away, and I was +about to follow them when you came up. That is all." + +While she was speaking, Felix called to mind that on the day he first +saw Lily in his father's house in Stapleton, Martha admitted her and +her grandfather and brother to his father's study. "Did she remember +Alfred's face?" he asked of himself mentally. + +"You saw the young man who came to Lizzie?" he asked aloud. + +"Yes, Felix." + +"Can you see his face now?" + +"No, I am shortsighted. If it were not for my love, I should not be +able to distinguish Lizzie." + +"Tell me," said Felix, "do you ever remember seeing his face before?" + +"Never, Felix; and yet----" she paused, and passed her hand over her +eyes--"now you mention it, there seemed to be something familiar in +his face as I looked at him. But no, I must be mistaken; I have no +recollection of ever having seen him. Why do you ask?" + +"I wondered if you had, that is all, Martha. And now" (dismissing the +subject), "what is it you intend to do?" + +"I don't know--I am bewildered. At one time I think of going away, and +bearing my misery until she writes to me again, which she is sure to +do soon; then I can speak to her. At another time I think of going up +to her, and showing myself. She would be glad to see me, I think; she +would not turn her back upon me." + +"I am sure she would be glad to see you----" + +"Bless you, Felix," cried Martha, in a grateful tone, "for that +assurance!" + +"But have you thought how you could account for your presence here, +Martha? Would not the gentleman who brought her from London be likely +to remember that he saw you at the ticket-office? Would not Lizzie be +hurt if she thought you had been watching her?" + +"Yes, yes," exclaimed Martha, looking up to him for support. "You are +right in everything you say; you can see things in a clearer light +than I can. I am confused and tired out. It _would_ hurt Lizzie's +feelings; and rather than that----" + +"Rather than that, if I judge you rightly, you would suffer much +without murmuring." + +"You judge me rightly, Felix. I would suffer much to save her from the +smallest pain." + +He gave her a bright look in approval, and pressed her hand. + +"You are sure of one thing, Martha--sure that Lizzie will write to you +soon?" + +"O, yes." + +"Well, she has come out to enjoy the day--I don't suppose she has too +many holidays. Look at her--you can see that she is happy. It would be +a pity to spoil her enjoyment. You agree with me--I see it in your +eyes. So presently, if it is necessary, you will go home and leave +them to themselves." + +"If you advise me to do so, I will," she said humbly, and then with +more animation, "although it will make me very unhappy to be sent +away. For one reason, Felix. You must not think that in what I am +going to say I am prejudiced or prompted by fears. I don't like that +man's face." + +"Which of the two do you refer to, Martha?" + +"The one who brought Lizzie from London." + +"Neither do I." + +"You know him then--you have seen him?" + +"Let me think a little, Martha." + +He moved away from her, and walked slowly up and down in deep thought. +Should he tell Martha his secret, or so much of it as he deemed +necessary? + +Her instinctive aversion to David Sheldrake's face found sympathy with +him. Felix was a shrewd observer, and during his brief sojourn in +London had formed a pretty fair estimate of the life of the great +city. His judgment was not biassed by prejudices of any kind, and it +did not detract from the correctness of his conclusions that he judged +by a high standard. He knew the class of men of which Mr. Sheldrake +was a member; knew that they lived only for the pleasures of the day, +and that such moral obligations as conscientiousness and right-doing +were not to be found in their vocabulary of ethics. That Lily +entertained an affection for Mr. Sheldrake, he could not believe; no, +not even the bright look she gave to Mr. Sheldrake, and of which he +had been an involuntary witness--not even the confidential relations +which seemed to subsist between them--could make him believe that. +"Although love comes--how?" thought Felix. "Who can analyse the subtle +influences which compose it? who can set down rules for it?" But the +strongest argument he found to strengthen his belief that Lily did not +love Mr. Sheldrake was that her grandfather knew nothing of it. And, +on the other hand, from what had passed between himself and Old +Wheels, the hope had been born within him that the old man suspected +and approved of his feelings for Lily. "He would not encourage me by +the shadow of a word," thought Felix, "if he thought that Lily loved +another. She may not love me, although I have sometimes thought that I +might win her love; but I may have been misled by my hopes." He would +know some day, perhaps; in the mean time a clear duty was before him, +prompted no less by his love for her than by his sense of right, and +by his promise to the old man. Felix was convinced that the old man +knew nothing of the present meeting of Lily and Mr. Sheldrake, and was +convinced that Lily herself did not know of it beforehand; for she had +asked her grandfather to accompany them, and he had refused. Why did +he refuse? Lily wished him to come, and that wish was sufficiently +strong for compliance. Immediately Felix arrived at this point of his +reflections, he decided that Alfred must be the cause of the old man's +absence, and also that Alfred knew that Mr. Sheldrake would be at +Hampton Court, and had kept the knowledge from Lily. The meeting was +planned, then, beforehand--planned by Alfred and Mr. Sheldrake. + +Thus logically following out his train of thought, things became +clearer to him; but the chain was not complete. What was the link that +connected Alfred and Mr. Sheldrake? Felix knew nothing of Alfred's +racing speculations; neither did he suspect Alfred of deliberate +treachery against his sister. All that was ill in the matter he set +down to the credit of Mr. Sheldrake. And this was the more strange +because he would admit of no compromise, and because, as a general +rule, he was singularly lenient and tender in his estimate of acts and +persons, finding and making excuses often which could only be +conceived by one possessing a kindly nature. + +Lily was in danger; of that he was satisfied. Her love for Alfred +magnified the danger. He drew a deep breath, and looked steadily at +the persons of whom he had been thinking; they were together now, and +were making preparations for quitting the spot. + +"You said just now, Martha," he said, "that you could trust me with +your life." + +"I meant it," she replied. + +"Trust me, then," he exclaimed, in an incisive tone; his words seemed +to cut the air, they were so clear and sharp. "Do exactly as I tell +you. Your cause is mine. Lizzie is as dear to you as your life is; I +know that. Let me relieve your mind upon one point. I am acquainted +with the young man who looks like Lizzie's sweetheart--it is strange +how things are linked together, is it not? The young lady you see with +them is his sister--as pure and good a girl as breathes in this +villanous world. No, no; why should I say villanous? There are spots +even upon the sun. But the girl whose arm is round Lizzie's waist, the +girl whose cheek is so close to Lizzie's now, has a soul as clear as +an undefiled mountain stream." + +"Felix!" cried Martha in wonder; for a tremulous tenderness had stolen +into his voice as he spoke these last words. + +"You and I are something alike in one thing, Martha; we don't waste +words when there is a purpose before us. What we say has meaning in +it. What I say to you now, I know; for I have come in contact with +that pure soul and simple nature, and it has done me good. It should +do you good, too, to know that your girl is in such companionship." + +"It does, Felix; my mind is inexpressibly relieved." + +"Stay here, Martha; they are moving off. I intend to see where they +are going to." + +Martha resumed her seat without a word of protest, having confidence +in him; and he, waiting until the party were ahead of him, followed +them slowly. He was not gone more than ten minutes. + +"It is as I thought," he said to Martha, when he returned; "they are +at the inn now, and dinner is being prepared for them." + +He sat down beside her, and she took his hand, and looked at him +affectionately. + +"I have been thinking, Felix, of what you said just now concerning +that young lady." + +"And thinking of me, I suppose, in connection with her." + +"Yes, Felix." + +"Well, Martha, you have the key to my secret. Let it be sacred between +us, and do not let any reference to it pass your lips unless with my +consent." + +He asked her to recall the time when he and she last met. + +"I do," she answered. "It was in the porch of your father's house, on +the day you left." + +"But I have seen you since then, Martha." + +"Not there!" she exclaimed, in surprise. "Not at Stapleton!" + +"No; in London. I am about to give you a surprise, Martha; the day +seems full of surprises, indeed. I am going to tell you where I live." + +He told her the street, and the number of the house. In amazement, she +cried, + +"Why, that's where Lizzie lived! I was at the house this morning!" + +"I never saw Lizzie's face; all I knew was that a young girl and an +old man lived at the top of the house. I keep myself very quiet, +Martha, and have not been desirous of making acquaintances. So now you +know where to come and see me in London, should you wish; for of +course I cannot come to Stapleton. Things go on as usual there, I +suppose?" + +"Yes; there is no change." + +He made no farther reference to his former home, and came back to his +theme. + +"I shall stay here, Martha. You had best go home; I will write to you +to-morrow. When you hear from Lizzie, with her new address, come to me +and let me know it." + +"Have you decided, then, what to do, Felix?" + +"I can't see my way clearly, but things will shape themselves for me. +Have you seen the play of _Richelieu?_" + +"I haven't been to a theatre since I was a girl," she replied. + +"Well, in one part of that play the principal mover finds it +necessary for his plans to put on a fox's skin. It may be that I shall +take a leaf out of his book. Come, we must be moving." + + + + + CHAPTER XXVIII. + + LIZZIE IN HER NEW HOME. + + +There is no telling nowadays where London ends and the country +commences. It is difficult to realize that quite recently in our +history, within the last three hundred years indeed, the Strand was +bush and garden, and that Westminster and Islington were made pleasant +by green woods and fields. Then, houses were few and far between; now, +they are so thickly clustered that (animated, perhaps, by the spirit +of their inhabitants) they seem to be poking their elbows into each +other's ribs, and to be jealous of one another. So, for rest and +quiet, we must away from these busy thoroughfares. + +The course of our story, however, does not carry us very far from +London's centre; and although the house at which we stop is in a +pretty and quiet neighbourhood, and is old-fashioned and delightfully +irregular in its outlines, the shriek of the iron horse is heard +within its walls a dozen times an hour. It is a small house in one of +the suburbs, with garden all round it, just such a house (or at least +she says it is) as Lizzie saw among the flowers when Muzzy proposed +that they should live together. Lizzie is bustling about the house +now, singing as she runs up and down-stairs, and old Muzzy--henceforth +to be dignified by the name of Musgrave--looks up from the table, upon +which are a number of letters and circulars, and listens to her blithe +voice. He has discovered already that Lizzie is a capital little +housewife; that she can cook and market without the slightest fuss, +and without taking any particular merit to herself for those +accomplishments. Lizzie, indeed, is fond of work; she is busy all day +long, and it is evident that her sewing-machine is not allowed to +rust. + +It is the day after the excursion to Hampton Court. It was quite +eleven o'clock of the previous night when Mr. Musgrave, sitting in the +parlour waiting anxiously for Lizzie's return, heard voices at the +garden gate in front of the house. He went to the street-door, and +stood quietly with the handle in his hand. "Good-night," he heard +Lizzie cry; "and don't forget--on Thursday!" A low voice replied in +words that Mr. Musgrave did not hear, and then there was pleasant +laughter, and "Good-night!" "Good-night!" a dozen times repeated. +After that Mr. Musgrave, opening the street-door, saw Lizzie standing +by the gate waving her handkerchief. When they were in the house, +Lizzie declared that she was too tired to tell him the day's +adventures; that she had spent a very happy day, and that she was +sleepy, and wanted to go to bed and think. + +"I will tell you all about it to-morrow, daddy," she said, and kissed +him and wished him good-night. + +Now, sitting in what may be termed the back parlour, he is waiting to +hear Lizzie's account of her adventures the previous day. The window +in this room looks out on the garden at the rear of the house. At the +end of the garden is a cozy little summer-house, with just sufficient +room for four persons to sit embowered "in mossy shade." + +Lizzie, coming into the room, tells him what there is for dinner and +that it will soon be ready, and asks him for the twentieth time if all +this isn't delightful. + +"But," she adds, "do you think it will last, daddy?" + +"Why shouldn't it, Lizzie?" he asks in return. + +"I don't know," she replies, with somewhat of a serious look in her +face. "It seems strange when you come to think of it. I couldn't help +wondering about it last night in bed." + +"Wondering in what way, Lizzie?" + +"Just tell me if I am wrong in something you once said to me. You said +you hadn't known Mr. Sheldrake very long." + +"I might have told you so, Lizzie." + +"But it is true, isn't it, daddy?" + +"Yes, it is true." + +"Then I remember you once said that nobody in the world does anything +without a motive." + +"Go on." + +"So I put this and that together. Mr. Sheldrake hasn't known you very +long. What motive can he have in being so kind to you?" + +"He is my master, Lizzie." + +"That's no motive. So I think to myself, I wonder if it will last! You +see, daddy, I am inquisitive, as all girls are, and I want to find +out. And I mean to--for reasons." + +He laughs at this, and says that she is an inquisitive girl indeed. +What makes her so inquisitive about Mr. Sheldrake when she has never +seen him? + +"O, then you don't know!" she exclaims. + +"Don't know what, Lizzie? You talk in riddles." + +"Don't know that Mr. Sheldrake met me at a little distance from here +yesterday, and went down with me to Hampton Court?" + +"Lizzie!" he exclaims in a tone of alarm, which sets Lizzie's sharp +eyes at work studying his face, while the serious look on hers deepens +in intensity. + +The thought which prompts his alarm is this: Is Mr. Sheldrake playing +him false? He remembers, when Mr. Sheldrake proposed that he should +turn over a new leaf, asking his master if he meant any harm to +Lizzie. To that question Mr. Sheldrake had returned a scornful reply. +But Lizzie's statement revives his suspicion. Her honour is as dear to +him as a daughter's would have been. But how to warn her? Her high +spirit would not permit of plain speaking; and besides, the subject is +a delicate one, and the mere mention of it by him might be construed +into a suspicion of Lizzie. She sees his trouble and perplexity, and +divines the cause of it. + +"Don't be frightened, daddy," she says; "Mr. Sheldrake did not make +love to me. _I_ am not his motive. A girl can soon tell, you know." + +"Tell me all about your meeting with him, Lizzie--how it came about." + +"He wrote me a note, telling me he wanted to give Some One--Alfred, +you know--a pleasant surprise, and proposing that I should meet him +and go down to Hampton Court with him. We were to keep the matter to +ourselves, and I wasn't even to tell you. Well, I hesitated a little +at first, thinking it wasn't quite right; but then I thought of the +noble character you gave him, and I was curious to see him. And you +mustn't think, daddy, that I can't take care of myself. So I told you +what was the truth when I said I was going to Hampton Court to meet +Some One, but I didn't tell you how it was to come about. You mustn't +think ill, or have any suspicions, of Mr. Sheldrake because of what I +say, for everything turned out exactly as he proposed. We went down to +Hampton Court, and he left me and went for Alfred: and altogether it +was one of the very happiest days I have ever spent." + +"I am glad of that, Lizzie. But this doesn't bring us any nearer to +Mr. Sheldrake's motive." + +"Alfred's sister was there. Such a dear girl, daddy! If she wasn't +Alfred's sister, I should be jealous of her, because I am sure that +everybody must prefer her to me. You will fall in love with her +directly you see her. Lily and I are going to be great friends; she is +coming to spend the day here on Thursday. Mr. Sheldrake was very +attentive to her." This with a shrewd look at Mr. Musgrave's face. +But it seems as if he has not heard the last words. + +"What name did you say?" he asks. + +"Lily. Pretty names are they not, daddy, for brother and sister? Lily +and Alfred." + +"What is she like?" He does not ask the question immediately. He +pauses for a little while before he speaks. + +"She is about my height, but a little slighter, with such beautiful +brown eyes! I can't describe her face, there is such a dreamy look +upon it sometimes. You must wait until Thursday and see for yourself. +But I tell you what she is; she is good." + +"Does Mr. Sheldrake know she is coming?" + +"Yes; he proposed it, I think." + +Then he asks her to let him see Alfred's portrait which she has in her +locket, and he gazes at it long and earnestly. The subject drops, and +is not renewed again that day. + +Ivy Cottage is the name of the house, and it has been taken furnished, +at a low rent, in consequence of its having been tenantless for some +time. It is understood in the neighbourhood that an old gentleman and +his daughter have come to live there, and Lizzie's bright face has +already attracted attention and admiration. That Mr. Sheldrake, +through his friend Con Staveley, intends to make Ivy Cottage a +profitable speculation is evident. Operations have been already +commenced in the sporting papers, and intending speculators are +implored, before investing in the two great races which are soon to +take place, the Cambridgeshire and the Cesarewitch, to send twelve +stamps to a certain gentleman who, according to the advertisement, +might be reasonably supposed to live in a letter-box at a post-office +not a mile distant from Ivy Cottage. Mr. Musgrave, going to that +post-office twice a day, never comes away empty-handed. The letter-box +is his Tom Tiddler's ground, where he picks up gold and silver as +represented by postage-stamps. And it is not the only Tom Tiddler's +ground which has been discovered by the persevering explorers. A mile +from Ivy Cottage, in another direction, is another post-office, +whereto sportsmen are invited to send more postage stamps to the +cousin of the most successful jockey of the day, and receive in return +the "straight tip" for the above mentioned races, "the greatest moral +ever known." The cousin of the most successful jockey of the day is, +of course, in all the stable secrets, knows the intentions of the +owners of all the most celebrated horses, and offers to forfeit one +thousand pounds if the horse he sends fails to win; and as his honour +is unimpeachable (he says to himself), there can be no doubt that the +money would be forthcoming in case of a failure. And all for a paltry +eighteen penny stamps! A third Tom Tiddler's ground lies in another +direction, and a fourth in another; so that Con Staveley may be said +to levy contributions north, south, east, and west: it is certain that +the winds that blew from every quarter blew postage stamps into Ivy +Cottage. + +But a more ambitious scheme than any of these is afoot--a scheme which +deals in pounds instead of shillings, in post-office orders and +cheques instead of penny postage stamps. This scheme comes under the +head of "Discretionary Investments," which, notwithstanding that they +are as distinct frauds as can be found in the criminal record, are +allowed to take root and to flourish without check or hindrance. The +large sums of money that are paid for long advertisements in the front +pages of certain sporting newspapers by the rogues who undertake these +"discretionary investments," testify to the profitable nature of their +undertaking. It is amazing that such swindling systems should be +allowed to flourish in the very eye of the law, which virtually +protects the swindler, and laughs at the dupe. + +Lizzie is in a great state of excitement until Thursday morning +arrives. + +"I don't exactly know what I feel like," she says on that morning; +"having a house to look after is so strange and new. This is just such +a house as I should like if I was settled. You know what I mean," she +adds, with a sharp nod of her head at "daddy," who has looked up at +the word. + +"Married," he says. + +"Yes; I can't imagine anything better. Home is very beautiful." + +"Is Some One--Alfred--in a good position, Lizzie?" + +"I don't think so; he's in a lawyer's office. But he will be very rich +one day." + +"Rich relations? Rich parents?" + +"He has no parents. He and Lily are orphans. Father and mother both +dead. And I've never heard him speak of rich relations. No; not rich +that way. But he's sure to have plenty of money some day. He is very +clever. Lily says so too; she is very fond of him, and would do +anything for him. She told me so. Come up-stairs, daddy; I want to +show you something." + +He goes up-stairs with her, and she takes him into her bedroom. +Everything in it is clean and fresh; there are flowers on the table, +and, the window being open, a grateful perfume steals in from the +garden. + +"Now, look here," she says, and she opens the door of a room which +leads into hers. But that is smaller, it is the very counterpart of +hers. + +"Now, you see what I have been so busy about, daddy. I shall call this +Lily's room; although, when she comes to stop with us for a few days +now and then, I shall give her my room, because it is larger." + +"Is she coming to stop with us, Lizzie?" + +"I hope so; some time or other. Mr. Sheldrake said what a pleasant +thing it would be for me, and Alfred said so too. You don't mind, +daddy?" + +"Anything pleases me that is for your pleasure and happiness, my +dear." + +"Mind!" she exclaims, kissing him, "you must like Lily very, very +much; and you must like Alfred too." + +"I will try to, my dear." + +"She will be here in a couple of hours, and Alfred is coming in the +afternoon." + +"It is unfortunate that I am not able to stop at home to see her, +Lizzie; but I will try to get back in time." + +"Why, daddy!" cries Lizzie, in a tone of disappointment, "you are not +going away!" + +"I must, my dear. Read this letter. I only received it this morning." + +It is a letter from Con Staveley, desiring him to be at the office in +London by a certain time, to talk over the new scheme of discretionary +investments. + +"How provoking!" exclaims Lizzie. "But it can't be helped, I suppose. +You don't think it strange, do you?" + +"I see nothing strange in it, my dear; it is a matter of business." + +Lizzie gives him a queer look, and says again she supposes it can't be +helped. + +"Be home as soon as you can, daddy," she calls after him, as he goes +out of the house. + +Whatever reflections Lizzie indulges in after his departure are lost +for the time in the pleasure she feels in Lily's arrival. Lily is not +alone; Pollypod accompanies her. + +"Grandfather did not like me to come by myself," she says to Lizzie, +"so I thought I would bring little Polly with me, Polly and I are +great friends." + +Pollypod nods solemnly, and, after her usual fashion with new +acquaintances, gazes in silence at Lizzie for a few seconds, and then, +having made up her mind, raises her face to be kissed, and says, with +the air of an oracle, + +"I like you!" + +This simple statement being received in good faith by Lizzie, they +become friends instantly, and Pollypod being made free of the house +wanders about it and the garden in a state of great delight, coming to +the girls every now and then, "wanting to know" something or other. As +for Lizzie and Lily they desire nothing better than to be left by +themselves; girls, when they get together have so many important items +of information to impart to each other, and so many confidences to +exchange. The first thing to be done is, of course, to show Lily all +over the house; and then there is a long chat in the bedroom. + +"I am so sorry daddy is not at home," says Lizzie, "but he was obliged +to go to London on particular business." + +The mention of daddy necessitates an explanation, for Lily has +understood from Alfred that Lizzie is an orphan. + +So Lizzie tells the simple story of her life to her new friend, and +Lily listens, and sympathises, and admires. When Lizzie comes to the +part which introduces Mr. Sheldrake's name into the narrative, Lily +listens more attentively, and yet with something of a forced and +embarrassed air, which does not escape Lizzie's observation. + +"Must not Mr. Sheldrake be a kind-hearted gentleman?" asks Lizzie, +keeping close watch on Lily's face. "He does it out of pure kindness, +daddy says. You don't often hear of such things." + +"I have heard much good of him," replies Lily; "he is a great friend +of Alfred's. Alfred is never tired of speaking of him." + +"Wasn't it kind of him," pursues Lizzie, "to take me down to Hampton +Court, to meet Alfred and you? He wouldn't let Alfred know beforehand, +he said, because he wanted to give him a pleasant surprise." + +"Did Mr. Sheldrake know, then, that we were at Hampton Court?" + +"Yes, dear; he wouldn't have taken me down else." + +"How did he find out?" muses Lily, a little disquieted. "Alfred may +have mentioned it to him the day before, and yet he seemed surprised +to see us there." + +"Riddle-me-riddle-me-ree," interrupts Lizzie gaily, to dispel the +cloud; adding, with a wise air, "you don't know men so well as I do, +my love." + +She draws Lily into the garden, and touches a key-note to which she +knows Lily's nature will respond, to the exclusion of distressful +thought. She talks of Alfred and of her love for him; they sit in the +summer-house until Pollypod comes to them, and diverts them from their +theme. + +"Lily," says Pollypod, "don't you wish Felix was here?" The colour +mounts to Lily's face, and to hide it Lily bends to Pollypod, and +caresses her. + +"And who is Felix, Polly?" asks Lizzie. + +"Felix is a gentleman; mother says there never _was_ any body as good +as him. He bought me my doll. I wish I had it with me. And we all love +him so--don't we, Lily? I love him, and mother loves him, and Lily +loves him, and Snap loves him." + +"O!" says Lizzie; and that is all she says. But there is a great deal +of meaning in the little word, if any value can be attached to the +significant tone in which she utters it. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIX. + + FELIX FINDS HIS OYSTER DIFFICULT TO OPEN. + + +The little word uttered by Lizzie in the concluding paragraph of the +previous chapter is like the dropping of the curtain for a time upon +the histories of the personages, good and bad, who are playing their +parts in this drama of every-day life. For if it in any way resembles +what it professes to be, the drama here presented should represent the +doings of the time in which it is written; in so far, of course, as +they enter into the ordinary life of the ordinary characters who are +introduced into it. + +The autumn and winter have passed, and the beautiful buds herald the +yearly miracle of spring. Certain changes have taken place in the +circumstances and lives of the movers in our story, and of these +changes it is necessary here to make record. + +Lily has left the music-hall, and her simple songs are no longer heard +in the Royal White Rose, as an antidote to the coarseness and +vulgarity which find prominent place on that stage. She is missed and +regretted by many of the frequenters of the Royal White Rose. Her +presence there was like a fountain of pure clear water in the midst of +an unhealthy tract of land; it made men and women forget for a time +the impurities by which they were surrounded. I am glad to be able to +say that her absence was regretted there, for it is a proof that +indecency in word and action, and immoral suggestiveness in the nature +of the songs sung in the Royal White Rose, are not vital elements in +the success of suchlike establishments. People laugh at these +atrocious songs, and at the atrocious meanings conveyed in many of the +catch-lines; they suit the trade of some who are regular frequenters +of these halls. But that better sentiments can be awakened in their +hearts is proved by the earnest and honest enthusiasm which is evoked +by the simple singing of a simple ditty, belonging to a school whose +days unfortunately are not of the present. It is but a very few weeks +ago that I strolled into one of the very lowest music-halls in the +metropolis, in which, upon the occasion of my visit, there were not +too many honest men and women, notwithstanding that the hall was quite +filled. Among other indecently suggestive songs was one, the title of +which I refrain from mentioning, but which has grown into a +catch-phrase, and may be heard to-day uttered openly by boys and girls +all over London, with laughing meaning. The title of this song is +supposed to have brought much money and reputation to the Eminent +Comic who invented it; if he were whipped for his ingenuity it would +be a fitter reward. Whoever trades in indecency deserves some such +punishment, and should receive it. After the singing of a number of +similar songs, all of which were received with expressions of delight +and approval, two young girls came upon the stage and sang, "What are +the wild waves saying?" and an old-fashioned duet, called, I think, +"The Cousins." I was amazed at the favour with which these songs were +received. The applause was honest, earnest, genuine. There was nothing +in music-hall ethics to account for the enthusiasm. The girls were not +immodestly dressed, and did not smile or wink at the audience, and yet +they were recalled again and again to sing, and their songs, which +could not raise a blush or an impure thought, were undoubtedly the +greatest success of the entertainment. + +There were two reasons to account for Lily leaving the Royal White +Rose. One reason was that her grandfather was alarmed for her health: +a secret sorrow seemed to weigh upon her spirits and to depress them. +She was not as happy in the society of her grandfather as she used to +be, although, as if to counterbalance this and to remove any +uneasiness from him, she strove to be even more affectionate to him +when they were alone. The other was, that the purpose for which Old +Wheels consented to her appearing upon a stage was served. The debt of +shame was paid, and Felix, feeling very sorrowful the while, was +compelled to accept the balance of the hundred pounds which had been +saved out of Lily's earnings. The old man made no remark concerning +Felix's evident reluctance to receive the money. He merely said, "Now +we are free, Felix, and Lily can leave the music-hall. The little +income I have will be sufficient to keep us, and I shall be able to +watch more closely over my darling." + +As the winter approached, Felix, going often to the little house in +Soho, more often found the old man alone. Lily had a girl companion, +the old man said, and Alfred and she made frequent visits to their new +acquaintance. + +"My dear girl seems to take pleasure in her new friend," he said, "and +it is but natural, for they are nearly the same age. It is but natural +also that brother and sister should cling together as Alfred and Lily +do. I have seen the young lady, and there is much in her that I like." + +"She has been here, then?" asked Felix. + +"Yes; on two occasions. I have not been to her house; I have never +been asked. Even if I were, I think I should not go." + +"Why, sir?" + +"Because Alfred does not wish it, and there is antagonism between my +grandson and me. It has sprung up gradually, and acquires strength +daily. When I first discovered it, I strove to remove it; I strove to +win Alfred's confidence, but I was unsuccessful, perhaps because I did +not make sufficient excuse for youth and inexperience. And he has so +strong an influence over Lily that I am afraid to do anything with +reference to her of which he does not approve; for he would be sure to +use it as an argument against me in his confidence with my darling. +God knows I do not want anything to occur to weaken her love for me! +Poor girl! she must be distressed enough as it is. She is between two +fires, as it were--her brother on one side, and, unhappily, her +grandfather on the other. It is I who must forbear. Do you know, +Felix, that I have for some time seen this conflict of feeling +approaching; and a little while ago I did hope----" + +"You hoped what, sir?" asked Felix, for Old Wheels had paused, as +though he were approaching forbidden ground. + +"That I should have had such an ally in a friend whom I esteem," said +Old Wheels, looking earnestly at Felix, "as would have rendered me +easy in my mind respecting my darling's future." + +"This friend, sir," observed Felix, turning his head from the old +man--"had you reason to suppose that he had any influence over Lily, +and that his counsel would have had weight with her?" + +"I believe he had influence with my dear girl; I believe he has. I +believe that she would have heeded, and would heed now, any words of +counsel he might speak to her." + +"But suppose," continued Felix, still standing so that his companion +could not see his face, "that this friend held precisely your own +view of the case. Suppose he feared that any counsel he might be bold +enough to offer would hurt Lily's tenderest feelings--inasmuch as it +would almost of a certainty clash with her deep affection for her +brother. Suppose that, seeing this, knowing this, and believing that +he had some slight influence over her, he refrained from saying what +was and is in his mind, because of the painful conflict of feeling +which it would stir in your dear granddaughter's breast----" + +He turned and held out his hand, which Old Wheels took and warmly +pressed. + +"What, then, remains for this friend to do," continued Felix, with +animation, as they stood hand in hand, face to face, "out of regard +for this dear girl's tender sensitive nature, out of regard for her +helplessness? To put aside, as well as it is in his power to do, his +own feelings; to be content to do as you do--to wait and hope. To do +more--not only to wait and hope, but to watch over her for her good, +without trusting himself before her in such a way as to cause her +pain. The friend of whom you speak is doing this." + +"Felix, my dear lad, how can I repay you?" + +"With your friendship--but I have that, I know. Something else is on +my lips, but I must not say it; something else is in my heart--you +have guessed before this time what it is--but I must not give it +expression. If the time should ever come--and I pray that it may--when +I feel that I can speak freely, it may be in your power to repay me a +thousandfold. In any case, believe that I am repaid over and over +again. Now let us talk of something else." + +They spoke of Felix's prospects. He had found by this time that the +world he had come into London to conquer was not so easy to open as +the time-honoured oyster. He had smiled often to himself since his +boast to Martha, and had said, "What arrogance!" But he was mistaken. +It was not arrogance. When he said to Martha Day that the world was +before him for him to open, and, asking where his oyster-knife was, +had tapped his forehead and said it was there, he had spoken, not out +of arrogance, but out of the over-confidence of youth. He had not long +been in London before he discovered his mistake. He became humbled in +the contemplation of the greatness of his oyster and the littleness of +himself, and he set modestly, humbly to work upon the very lowest rung +of the ladder, not daring to hope to rise very high. There came to him +this feeling, of which he never lost sight: "I shall be content," he +said to himself, "if I can become one of the common workers in the +world, and if I can find some channel in which, by the exercise of +all my energy, of all the talent which I may possess, I am able to +earn my living." He did not desire much; it was no boast when he said +to himself that he would be content with very little; his wants were +small, and he had within him the capacity to enjoy. He took his +enjoyments modestly; went now and again to the pit of the theatre, and +(out of his gratefulness for small blessings) obtained more than his +money's worth. When he could not afford the pit he went to the +gallery, and would not have been ashamed to be seen there by any of +his former friends. At one time his funds were very low, so low, +indeed, that he could not afford a dinner; so, apples being in, he +lived upon bread-and-apples and cold water, and made merry over his +fare. He told no one, and he was not in the least to be pitied; he was +learning life's lessons, and was bearing reverses bravely, without +repining and without self-exaltation. He tried the usual resources of +helplessness; he could draw and paint indifferently well, and one day +(just before his bread-and-apple fare commenced) he almost ruined +himself by laying-in a stock of cardboard and crayons. In a few days +he had two sketches ready, of which he thought so highly that he said, +as he surveyed them, "Upon my word, I don't think I'll part with +them." But he laughed at his vanity the next moment, and out he went +to sell them, and came back with them under his arm. No one would buy +them. He tried again the next day, and the next, and the best result +that he could obtain was that a shopkeeper offered to put them in his +window, and to divide the proceeds with him, supposing they were sold. +Felix agreed readily enough, put a low price upon them, and went round +every day to look at them in the window. He did not dare to enter the +shop. "The shopkeeper might ask me for storage expenses," he said with +a laugh. Then came the bread-and-apple time; and one day, longing for +a change of food, he thought he would treat himself to better fare; so +he painted a chop on cardboard, and with comical earnestness set out +his meal--a pennyworth of apples, half a quartern loaf, a jug of +water, and his painted chop. As he ate his bread he rubbed out the +chop, until he had eaten every bit of it, and nothing but smudges +remained. He laughed heartily over his meal, I can tell you, and so +enjoyed the whimsical fancy, that it did him more good than a dozen +chops would have done. He was comically concerned at the thought that +he had eaten bone and all. "I wonder it didn't stick in my throat and +choke me," he said; "must be more careful next time." The occasions +were not few on which he made light of his reverses thus: he seasoned +his bread-and-apples with many such painted dishes, and amused himself +sometimes by saying that his chop or steak was underdone or burnt up. +He lived rarely during these days: had pine-apples when they were out +of season, pears of a guinea apiece, grapes from the hot-house, and +every luxury he could think of. Then, going to the shop-window in +which his sketches had been exhibited, he saw that they were gone. It +gave him a shock. He had put what he considered to be a ridiculously +low price upon them--ten shillings apiece. "Perhaps he sold them for +more," thought Felix, and entered the shop with a jaunty air. The +shopkeeper gave him good-day. + +"It was best to get rid of 'em," he said; "they were blocking up the +window, so I took an offer for them." + +"How much?" asked Felix. + +"Sketches are a drug," said the shopkeeper, fencing. + +"I ought to have taken them to a chemist, then," observed Felix. + +The shopkeeper stared; he had no sense of humour. + +"I took seven-and-six for the pair," said the shopkeeper, and then +defended himself, without being accused, by adding, "and a good price +too, I consider it." + +Felix looked at the shopkeeper with twinkling eyes. + +"Thank you, good sir," he said; "I owe you one." + +"Don't mention it," replied the shopkeeper, thinking he had got hold +of a queer customer; "here's your share--three-and-ninepence." + +Felix received it, and looked at the shopkeeper with an odd smile on +his lips. And when he was in his room, paid the man the one he owed +him by drawing caricatures of him, and suddenly developed a talent +which, but for this small circumstance, might have been hidden under a +bushel. With a fine sense of humour (which he was not afraid of +displaying under the shopkeeper's very nose, seeing that the man did +not possess the discriminative affection), Felix, the following day, +took to the shop a caricature of the shopkeeper himself, in crayons, +with which his patron was so tickled, not seeing the joke, that he +bought it out of hand, and Felix was the richer by a crown. The joke, +however, told against Felix in a certain way, for the shopkeeper would +have readily given more for it; but then Felix was conscientious, and +did not set too high a price upon the man. He dashed off a couple of +other caricatures, and sold them likewise. The scene of one was laid +at a narrow luncheon-counter which he had visited. There were three +barmaids serving, but only the backs of their heads could be seen. +There is no need to say that this back view was imposing. The +comicality of the sketch was in the faces of the eaters, with which +the narrow counter was lined. They were depicted eating their +luncheons after the fashions of their various temperaments. Some were +solemn, some were farcical; the face of one was buried in a pint-pot: +all were grotesque. The scene of the other was a street on a rainy +day. A languid swell, six feet high, was languidly holding an umbrella +over his head, and a street Arab, two feet and a half high, was +running by his side, crying, "Shall I 'old yer umberellar up, sir?" If +Felix had been fertile in subjects, he might have done well in this +line; but it was not every day that he could get a new idea, and he +was above copying old ones. Then came the incident of the fire, and +the acceptance of his account of it by the newspaper. He was fortunate +in picking up other incidents, and made capital out of them. He grew +hopeful, and began to make acquaintances. No money had ever been so +sweet to him as the little money he was earning. + +About this time came a rare stroke of good fortune. Mention has been +made of a friend with whom he had travelled abroad, and who came home +with him. Felix was in the gallery of a theatre one night, when he saw +this friend in the stalls. Their eyes met, and they recognised each +other. Felix made no sign, the chasm between stalls and gallery was so +deep and wide. But when the piece was over Felix hurried to the door +of the theatre, wondering if his friend would try to find him out. By +good chance they met in the crowd; his friend _had_ been hunting for +him. + +"Felix, old fellow!" + +"Charley, old boy!" + +"I thought I wasn't mistaken, Felix; but I _was_ surprised to see you +up there." + +Felix smiled. "Funds low, old boy. Been long in London?" + +"A month; can't tear myself away. Isn't it glorious? Come and have +some supper." + +Nothing loth, for they really had been friends, Felix took Charley's +arm, and they made a capital supper, laughing and joking and quizzing +as they had done in the olden times. + +"But I say, old fellow," said Charley, "tell us about it. What's up?" + +"I was," cried Felix merrily--he was in the gayest of humours, for the +circumstance of Charley looking for him after the play to shake hands +with him had gladdened his heart--"high up, eh? And only sixpence! You +and I have been in queerer places, haven't we, old boy?" + +And they fell-to again fishing up pleasant memories from the past. +They were supping together in Charley's room at the very hotel which +Felix had patronised when he first came to London. + +"The waiter seems to know you, Felix," said Charley. + +"I was a lodger here once, and played the part of Grand Bashaw with +twopence-ha'penny in my pocket. When my twopence-ha'penny was spent, I +fled." + +"An honourable retreat, I'll swear," remarked Charley. Felix twirled +his cigar, and puffed out royally. + +"And now, old fellow, I must know all about you." + +Felix told his friend all; of his quarrel with his father, softening +that part of the story, and taking much blame to himself; of his +quitting his home for ever and ever, never more to return, with his +twopence-ha'penny in his purse; of his coming to London to conquer the +world; of his failure; of his funds running out; and of his taking to +the arts for a living. Only casually did he mention Lily, but his +heart was so full of tenderness for her, that the few words he uttered +respecting her were rightly interpreted by his friend. + +"Felix, you are in love." + +Felix puffed away in silence, and looked into the fire. + +"Come, old fellow," continued Charley, "we used to have no secrets; we +shared and shared, you remember." + +"Well, Charley," replied Felix, "I have kept no secret from you. You +know this one, at all events, and you know it from me. But don't let +us talk about it; the odds are that it will come to nothing." + +"One word only--rich?" + +"Poor as I am." + +"And a lady?" + +"A tender-hearted, pure-souled girl. 'Right about face!'" Which, in +the old days, was a favourite cry with them when a subject was to be +dismissed from their conversation. + +"I borrowed some money of you once, Felix." + +"You did, Charley, old boy--and paid it." + +"Are you sure?" + +Felix laughed, rather boisterously. + +"That won't do, old boy," he said; "no beating about the bush between +us two. The grog's confoundedly strong." (It must have been, for it +made his eyes water.) + +"Look here, Charley, I want money--badly; but I must earn it. Now, if +you could help me to anything in the newspaper way----" + +Charley broke in here with "I can by Jove! You can do newspaper +correspondence?" + +Felix nodded excitedly. + +"Well," continued Charley enthusiastically, "down our way we've a +newspaper, of course. What's an Englishman without a newspaper? Why, +they start them in the bush! Now, between you and me--it mustn't go +farther, mind--my dad is part proprietor, under the rose. What a +glorious thing it would be if we could get a London correspondent, who +moves in the best society"--Charley winked, and Felix responded--"who +is hand-and-glove with all the political nobs and the literary swells; +who is behind the scenes everywhere; who knows all the news, and can +serve it up piping hot and spicy! Now, then, what do you say? The +_Penny Whistle_ is only a weekly, and we could only spare two columns +to our London Special." + +"If you are really serious," said Felix slowly, his colour rising, for +he saw a great chance in the proposal, "and the _Penny Whistle_ can +afford a special London correspondent, I could send a capital two +columns every week, and I would take care to be on the look-out for +anything special. Could it afford a pound a week, Charley?" + +"A pound a week, old fellow!" cried Charley. "It's too little." + +"It is enough," said Felix firmly; "I could not accept more under the +circumstances. If the proprietors write to me to that effect, I shall +only be too happy to accept." + +In a fortnight from that time Felix was engaged as London +correspondent at the sum fixed by himself. He ran to Old Wheels, and +told the good news. He was really beginning to open his oyster. + + + + + CHAPTER XXX. + + JIM PODMORE HAS A "DAZE." + + +In the mean time, some of the humble personages in our drama, being +fixed in certain grooves, remain there uneventfully, the only changes +that occur to them being marked by the hand of time. Mr. Podmore +continues in his situation on the railway, works as hard and as long +hours as ever, comes home as tired as ever, but more often now with a +"daze" upon him, as he expresses it. This "daze"--he has no idea how +he got hold of the word--gives him terrible frights at times, and +causes him to be oblivious of what passes around him. It never comes +upon him but when he is dead-beat, when what is known as a fair day's +work is turned into a foul day's work by the abominable system which +coins large dividends out of its servants' health, and which taxes +their strength so unfairly as to bring old age upon men long before it +is naturally due. Jim Podmore is fearful to speak of this "daze" to +any one, for if it were known to the officers of the company, short +shrift would be his portion. Such a sympathetic affection as humanity +holds no place in the schemes and calculations of railway directors. +Given so much bone and blood and muscle: how much strain can they +bear? This ascertained, apply the strain to its utmost, until blood, +bone, and muscle can no longer bear it, and fail, naturally, to +perform their task. Then throw aside, and obtain fresh. Jim Podmore +would not thus have expressed it, but the conclusion at which he had +arrived is the same as the conclusion here set down. The only person +who knows of his fast-growing infirmity is his wife. He confides to +her the various stages of this "daze;" how he goes to work of a +morning pretty fresh, and how, when his fair day's work is being +turned into a foul day's work by the directors' strain, he begins to +tire. "I seem to--fall asleep--gradually," he says, "although I +hear--everything about me. All the wear and tear--of the day--all +the noise--all the slamming and shouting--all the whistling and +puffing--seem to get into the middle--of my head--and buzz there--as +if they were bees. And so I go off--with this buzzing. Then I jump +up--in a fright--just in time, old woman!--to shift the points--but +I'm all of a tremble--and feel fit to die. Then I fall off--into a +daze again--and the buzzing goes on--in my head. Then Snap--good +old dog!"--(Snap licks the hand that pats its head) "pulls at my +trousers--sometimes--and wakes me. Suppose I shouldn't--rouse myself +in time--some time or other--and something was to occur! What then, +old woman? I wake up--in the middle of a night--often--thinking of +it--with the perspiration--a-running down me." Mrs. Podmore does her +best to comfort him, but she cannot suggest a cure for Jim's "daze." +"You see, old woman," he says, "it wouldn't do--for me--to fall ill +even--and be laid up--for a week or two. That might do me good--but it +wouldn't do. Where's the money--to come from? We couldn't lay our +hands--on a spare half a crown--to save our lives." Which was a fact. +Capital, in the majority of instances, pays labour just such a sum for +its blood, bone, and muscle as is barely sufficient to live upon; +every farthing flies away for urgent necessities, without which labour +would starve, with which it barely manages to preserve its health. The +result is that labour grows inevitably into a state of pauperism; +hence workhouses--which are not known in the world's new lands. May +they never be known! They are plague-spots, poisonous to the healthful +blood of cities. + +However, until a change for the worse comes, this small family of +three, Mr. and Mrs. Podmore and their little Pollypod, live in their +one room, and are more often happy there than otherwise. Felix +frequently pays them visits, and learns from Jim and Mrs. Podmore many +particulars concerning the railway system of overworking its servants, +which he works up with good effect in his newspaper letters and other +ways. Felix likes to get hold of a good public grievance, and has +already learnt how to make capital of it. But, indeed, he could not +write earnestly on any matter in which his sympathies were not in some +way engaged. Pollypod enjoys herself greatly; she and Lizzie are firm +friends, and the consequence is that she often accompanies Lily to +Lizzie's house in the "country," and spends the day there. Old Wheels +likes Lily to take the child with her; and, apart from her fondness +for Pollypod, Lily is glad to please her grandfather in this way. + +The Gribbles, senior and junior, go on as usual. Gribble junior +maintains his ground, and is even prospering a little in his umbrella +hospital, which is generally pretty full of patients. He "keeps +moving" with his tongue, and is continually rattling away complacently +on this subject and that. He likes Felix, who indeed is a favourite +with them all, but he has contracted an inveterate dislike to Mr. +Sheldrake, and never loses an opportunity of saying an ill word +concerning that gentleman. Gribble senior keeps his chandler's shop +open, but the trade continues to fall off woefully, and the old +shopkeeper is more rampant than ever on the subject of co-operative +stores, which he declares will be the ruin of the country. + +Alfred grows more and more infatuated with racing; he meets with +reverse after reverse, adopts system after system, discovers +continually new methods of winning infallibly, is buoyed up and elated +one day with the prospect of winning a great sum, and groans with +despair the next day when the result is made known. Of course he does +not always lose; he wins small sums occasionally, but they are like +raindrops in the sea. Week after week passes, month after month flies +by, and he is sinking lower and lower. David Sheldrake stands his +friend still; still supplies him with money, and takes his signature +for the amount, and what with letters and documents and information of +how matters stand with Alfred at the office of his employers, Messrs. +Tickle and Flint, holds such a dangerous power over the infatuated +young man as can crush him at any moment. Here a defence must be set +up for David Sheldrake, otherwise he might be taken for a fool for +parting with his money so freely to a young fellow for whom he cared +no more than for the snuff of a candle. David Sheldrake knew every +trick of the game he was playing. Madly infatuated as he was with +Lily, he was too completely a man of the world to throw away the sums +of money he advanced to Alfred from time to time. But the fact of it +was, he got it all back; what he gave with one hand he received with +the other. He made an express stipulation with Alfred that Con +Staveley should be the medium of all the young fellow's racing +speculations; so that no sooner did David Sheldrake lend, than Con +Staveley swallowed. Therefore, although in the aggregate, Alfred owed +David Sheldrake a large sum of money, the astute David was really very +little out of pocket. He was aware that, in other ways, Alfred was +more extravagant than his earnings at Messrs. Tickle and Flint's +warranted; but where he got the money from to supply these +extravagances was no business of David Sheldrake's. Alfred did not get +it from _him_. But in Alfred's moments of remorse, when he was pouring +into David Sheldrake's ears accounts of his misfortunes, of how he was +trapped by this tipster or deceived by that prophet, or swindled in +some other way, many a chance expression of terror escaped from him, +of which David Sheldrake made good use in his reflections--putting +this and that together until he had arrived at the truth, and knew for +a certainty that Alfred was robbing his employers. The power which +this knowledge gave him over Lily was so complete that he would not +have parted with it upon easy terms. He never failed of impressing +upon Alfred that what he did for him he did for Lily's sake, and for +Lily's sake only. + +"If it were not for her, my boy," he said, "I think I should close on +you; for after all, business is business." + +Alfred listened, white and trembling. + +"For God's sake," he said to Lily one day, when David Sheldrake had +retired offended at her coldness; the man of the world had been more +than usually pressing in his attentions, and Lily had shrunk from +them--"for God's sake, Lily, don't offend him! You don't know how good +he is; you don't know what a friend he is to me. If it was not for +him, I should----" + +Lily's eyes, fixed in alarm upon his face, stopped him, and he broke +off with, + +"I am the most miserable wretch in the world! There never was anybody +half so miserable or half so unfortunate as I am! There's only one +girl in the world who loves me--and that's Lizzie. My own sister, that +I would lay down my life for, turns against me." + +Lily's grief may be imagined. Turn against him! Against the dearest +brother that sister ever had! How could she prove the sincerity of her +love for him, she asked. + +"By being kind to Mr. Sheldrake," Alfred answered sullenly; his fears +blinded him to the unselfishness of her affection, blinded him to +results. + +Thus it came about that, on the next occasion Lily and Mr. Sheldrake +met, Lily acted a part, and Mr. Sheldrake's wound was healed. Lily +received her reward; Alfred kissed her and embraced her, and called +her the dearest sister! She found consolation in his brighter manner; +and although she shed many tears she was careful that Alfred should +not witness her pain. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXI. + + THE SWINDLE WHICH THE LAW PROTECTS KNOWN BY THE TITLE + OF DISCRETIONARY INVESTMENTS. + + +All Mr. David Sheldrake's calculations were conducted in such a manner +as to cause Number One to eclipse all other figures, single or in +combination. Number One was the only figure in which he took a real +interest; the other figures could take care of themselves. He made it +his special business to look after the humblest of them all, and it is +but a fair tribute to his genius to state that he made Number One a +brilliant success. It has been shown how cheaply he bought the +reputation of being Alfred's sincerest and most generous friend, and +how he received back through his agent Con Staveley all the money he +lent to Alfred; and in common justice it must be shown how he made Ivy +Cottage--the cottage which, out of ostensibly benevolent motives, he +had taken for Mr. Musgrave and Lizzie--one of the most profitable +speculations in which he had ever invested. + +With his eye ever on the main chance (which may be pithily described +as Number One, surrounded by a glory), Ivy Cottage became, under his +instructions, the secret centre of a system known among sporting men +as Discretionary Investments, one of the shallowest swindles of the +day, and yet one which has been successful in emptying the purses of +greedy gulls and filling the purses of needy sharks. No money was +received at Ivy Cottage, as in the event of discovery the law could +punish the receivers. But it being a peculiarity of the British law +that, in so far as it affects racing matters, a man may pick his +neighbour's pocket in Scotland, but must not do so in England, a +garret was taken in Glasgow, and thither Con Staveley bent his steps +to perform his part in the Discretionary Investment scheme--which +consisted in receiving and pocketing the money of the gulls. Innocent +readers who are not acquainted with these matters may doubt the +statement that a man may rob in Scotland with impunity; but it really +is the plain sober truth, and it is a proof that what is known as the +British Constitution is after all but a patched and ragged garment, +and that, notwithstanding its patches, it has many a rent in it which +the law (having, as I have said before, a squint in its eye) cannot or +will not see. A day before the Millennium it may make up its mind to +catch a glimpse of these rents, through which rogues laugh and snap +their fingers in the faces of their dupes. + +As it was necessary that the operations should be conducted in +secrecy, Ivy Cottage, very soon after its new tenancy, had in it a +Blue Beard's room, to which neither Lizzie nor any of her friends had +the right of entry. The only persons who ever entered it were Mr. +Musgrave and Mr. Sheldrake. There the announcements of the new scheme +of Discretionary Investments were prepared and launched upon the world +in the names of Messrs. Montague and D'Arcy, Mr. Sheldrake knowing, +from profitable experience, that high-sounding names were the best +bait for gudgeons. Their first public announcement led the uninitiated +to believe that the firm was an old one, and that it had been +established for many years; but we know differently. However, as there +is absolutely no such thing as fair dealing among betting men, this +was but of a piece with the rest of the machinery. The circular (of +which a copy lies before the present writer) issued and advertised by +the myths, Montague and D'Arcy, commenced by declaring in large +letters that a certain fortune without the slightest risk was within +the reach of the humblest, and that Messrs. Montague and D'Arcy had +conferred an incalculable boon upon the public at large by reducing +speculation on horse-racing to a means by which immense sums of money +might be realized weekly by a small stake. Fortunes, said these public +benefactors, were being daily realized by investing in accordance with +their Marvellously Lucrative and Ever Triumphantly Successful Method +of Turf Speculation. Many gentlemen who never backed a horse for a +shilling held large stakes in the system, as the safety of capital, +and the immense profits that were weekly realized, and promptly paid, +rendered it a perfect El Dorado to the fortunate investors. Many of +the largest speculators now entirely confined their operations to +Messrs. Montague and D'Arcy's Systematic Investments, and this fact +alone should prove a sufficient inducement to those who hitherto have +not speculated to join in realizing the golden harvest. As, however, +sceptics would always be found, these public benefactors offered to +forward to those who doubted the most unexceptionable references--to +noblemen, officers, gentlemen, and tradesmen--as to the marvellously +successful nature of their system, which by its heavy and +never-failing success had fairly eclipsed and distanced all other +modes of speculation. It had the advantage of combining the two great +desiderata of immense and ever-increasing profits, combined with +absolute and perfect security of capital. + +Facts, however, spoke stronger than words; hence, in appending the +following list of amounts won last season at a few of the principal +meetings, the projectors were well satisfied to leave gentlemen to +judge for themselves as to the correctness of the assertion, that the +winnings realized week by week by the investor, in accordance with +this method, were far in excess of the amounts that could by any +possibility be realized by any other mode of investment: + + + LAST SEASON'S OPERATIONS. + + At Lincoln . . . £100 stake won £4840 + Liverpool . . . 25 " " 1230 + Chester . . . 10 " " 240 + Newmarket . . . 50 " " 1004 + Bath . . . . 5 " " 134 + Epsom . . . . 50 " " 1450 + Ascot . . . . 25 " " 740 + Windsor. . . . 25 " " 1020 + Goodwood . . . 20 " " 648 + Doncaster . . . 50 " " 2104 + Newmarket . . . 5 " " 325 + Liverpool . . . 10 " " 521 + Shrewsbury . . . 25 " " 1203 + + +During the whole of the season a loss never occurred. In indubitable +proof of which Messrs. Montague and D'Arcy publicly expressed their +willingness to forfeit the sum of £1000 to any investing client at the +above-named meetings who did not receive the amounts in full, as +stated above, or in due proportion to the amount invested. + +But, pleasant and profitable as were the results of last season's +operations, by which men of the most moderate means had obtained +affluence and wealth, the present campaign promised to throw those +magnificent results in the shade. At Newmarket, for instance, the most +extraordinary and almost marvellous success had attended their +operations in the first three days, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. +They had not had time to make out a careful statement, and could not +do so till Saturday, as the meeting extended to Friday, but they +roughly estimated that up to Thursday night, each investor of + + + £500 had realized £7850! + 100 " 1300 + 50 " 650 + 25 " 325 + 10 " 127 + 5 " 63 + + +To suit small speculators investments would be taken by Messrs. +Montague and D'Arcy as low as five shillings, but the nobility could +forward as high a stake as One Thousand pounds. At this point they +stopped, for the line must be drawn somewhere. They would not take +less than five shillings from each man of moderate means, nor more +than One Thousand pounds from each nobleman. + +In conclusion, Messrs. Montague and D'Arcy announced themselves as +members of all the West-end clubs (without mentioning names), and gave +as their bankers the Royal Bank of Scotland, and as their address, the +garret in Glasgow rented by Con Staveley, where clients could send +cheques, post-office orders, bank-notes, or postage stamps. + +The advertisements and circulars contained a great deal more than is +given above, and the most infamous artifices were used to fire the +imagination of clerks and apprentices; for it was really from such +unfortunates as these that Mr. Sheldrake and his confederate netted +the greater portion of their large gains. They pointed out how those +who desired to speculate might commence in a small way, and creep up +gradually, until they became wealthy; and many weak men and boys +studied the figures, and borrowed or stole to make the venture--which +indeed was no venture, but a certainty; for it is needless to say that +no penny of the money sent to the garret in Glasgow ever found its way +back. To some extent, a semblance of fair dealing was kept up, and +where Messrs. Montague and D'Arcy thought they saw a chance of the +dupe being farther duped, they forwarded him a tabulated statement +showing how his money had been invested upon the wrong horses, and how +he was in their debt a trifling sum. This statement was accompanied by +a lithographed letter, detailing how all the race-meetings upon which +the speculator had not invested had turned out marvellously +profitable, and how the particular race-meeting upon which he had +desired his money to be invested had, "for the first time during the +past five consecutive seasons, turned out a failure." However, they +consoled their unfortunate client with the assurance that at the +race-meeting which would take place next week "winning was reduced to +an absolute certainty," and that, as there was not the slightest +chance of losing, they trusted that their client "would take their +advice, and invest £25, £50, or £100, and realize a few thousands +forthwith." Remaining his faithfully, Montague and D'Arcy. Of course, +if more money were sent, it shared the fate of the first; and +notwithstanding the groans and curses of those who were thus robbed in +open daylight, the ball rolled on right merrily. No one knew that +Messrs. Montague and D'Arcy were identical with David Sheldrake and +Con Staveley. Their faces were never seen in the transactions, +everything being conducted under seal, and no personal interviews on +any consideration ever being allowed. And in the event of some irate +clients making the name of the firm and their address notorious, it +was the easiest thing in the world to change their names and take +another garret, perhaps in Edinburgh this time instead of Glasgow. It +is but fair to some of the sporting papers in which these lying +advertisements were inserted for the trapping of apprentices and +others, to state that in their "Answer to Correspondents" such answers +as these appeared week after week: "An Anxious Inquirer. They are +swindlers." "A. Z. You should not have trusted your money to them." +"R. H. C. We do not recommend Discretionary Investments." "Fair Play. +You have been swindled." And many others to the same effect. But they +continued to open their columns to the advertising knaves, who, +without this means of publicity, would find their schemes fall +comparatively fruitless to the ground. + +Said Alfred to David Sheldrake, in the course of conversation, being +artfully led to the subject: + +"Those discretionary investments seem to be an easy way of making +money. Did you see the advertisements of Montague and D'Arcy in the +papers this morning?" + +"No," replied Mr. Sheldrake. "Montague and D'Arcy! I fancy I have met +a Mr. Montague at some of the meetings. If it is the same man, he bets +and wins largely." + +"It must be the same," cried Alfred. "Look here," pulling the paper +out of his pocket, "a £100 stake realized £1800 at Newmarket last week +in three days." + +"That seems good enough, Alf," was Mr. Sheldrake's comment. "If I had +£20 or £80," said Alfred, with an anxious look at Sheldrake---- + +"You'd try your luck with them? Well, I see what you're driving at, +Alf. I'll give you a cheque for £20, made payable to them, and you can +have a dive." + +"Ah, you _are_ a friend! If I win, I shall be able to give you a good +sum off what I owe you." + +"All right, my boy," said Mr. Sheldrake heartily, and then wrote the +cheque and gave it to Alfred, and two days afterwards received it back +from Con Staveley in Glasgow. + +In this and other ways he drew the mesh round Lily's brother, until he +had the infatuated gambler completely at his mercy. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXII. + + THE POLISH JEW. + + +A remarkable change had taken place in Mr. Musgrave, dating almost +from the day on which he took possession of Ivy Cottage. Those who had +known him when he lived in his garret and bought gin on the sly, and +who knew him now, were amazed at the transformation; for it was +nothing less. The vice that appeared to have been so bred in his bone +as to be ineradicable had disappeared. He drank no more. Whether he +considered it was due to his altered position, whether it was from +gratitude or fear, or from whatever other unknown cause, it is certain +that the respectable old man known now as Mr. Musgrave, and the +disreputable tippler known some months since as old Muzzy, were +distinctly different types. The change really commenced within the +first fortnight of his residence in Ivy Cottage. Within this time, +Lily and Alfred had come by invitation to take tea with Lizzie and +spend the evening with her. The young people were in good spirits, and +Mr. Musgrave sat in his corner listening to their light-hearted +chatting. In the course of the evening Lily sang two or three +old-fashioned simple songs, and altogether the time was a happy one. +Then Mr. Sheldrake dropped in, and whatever little part Mr. Musgrave +had played in the proceedings was over from that moment. But when Lily +and Alfred were going home, Mr. Musgrave, with hands that trembled +from eagerness, held Lily's mantle for her, and pressed her hands, and +said that she had made him young again, and that he had spent the +happiest evening he had spent for years. He entreated her to come +again, and to come often, and she said gaily she intended to, for +Lizzie and she were sisters already. When they were gone--Mr. +Sheldrake accompanied Lily and Alfred home--Mr. Musgrave and Lizzie +sat up for a little while talking, and he told her how pleased he was +she had made such a friend. That night when he went to his bedroom, +he took from a place of concealment two time-honoured friends--to wit, +two flat bottles, in which he had been in the habit of carrying away +his gin from the public-house. With these under his arm he stole down +to the garden, and hurled them over the wall as far as his strength +would allow him, thus bidding good-bye to them. On that night before +he retired to rest, he knelt by his bedside for the first time for +many, many years, and thought, if he did not say, a prayer. + +Mr. Sheldrake noticed a change in him, and commented on it. + +"Why, Muzzy," he said, "you have grown quite respectable." + +"I hope it does not displease you, sir," was Mr. Musgrave's reply. + +"No, indeed," said Mr. Sheldrake; "it is a compliment to me, for I +think I have had something to do with it." + +"Yes, sir, you have." + +Mr. Sheldrake clapped him on the shoulder. + +"Never too late to mend, eh, old man?" + +"I hope not, sir." + +And yet it is to be doubted whether Mr. Sheldrake was quite pleased at +this remarkable change in his servant. He liked to hold a power over a +man, and if that power sprung from a man's weakness, or even vice, he +was all the more gratified, so long as it did not affect him. There +was no doubt, however, that Mr. Musgrave was endeavouring to become a +respectable member of society, and that he had, in real sober earnest, +turned over the new leaf which Mr. Sheldrake had proposed to him. + + +On a cold evening in March, Lily and Old Wheels were sitting in their +room in the little house in Soho. There was no change in its +appearance. The portraits of Lily were on the mantelshelf, and a +bouquet of flowers was on the table. The old man was making castors +for a little cigar cabinet which he had bought second-hand at a shop a +day or two before. He had cut holes in the bottom of the cabinet, so +that the castors were almost hidden from sight, and he had devised a +false bottom so as not to interfere with the usefulness of the box. +His work being done, he put his tools aside, and rolled the cabinet +towards Lily, asking her what she thought of it, and whether Felix +would not be pleased with it. + +"O, then," said Lily, with a faint smile, "it is for Felix. You did +not tell me that. I was wondering whom it was for." + +"Are you glad or sorry, Lily, that I am going to make Felix a +present?" + +"Glad." + +"I don't know what I should do now without him," said Old Wheels, with +assumed carelessness, but really watching Lily's face with more of +keenness than his words warranted; "I am so used to his coming in here +often, and have so grown to like him, that if he were to go away I +should feel quite lost." + +"You are more often alone now, grandfather, than you used to be," said +Lily sadly and quietly. + +"Yes, my darling, when you were at the music-hall I saw more of you +than I do now. But it can't be helped, I suppose, Lily, can it?" + +Lily put the needle in her work, and laid it on the table; then rose +from the chair, and sat upon a stool at the old man's feet. He looked +down upon her fondly, and raised her to his knee, where she sat with +her arm round his neck, and her face close to his. + +"That's my own Lily," murmured Old Wheels. "That's my own dear +darling! And you have not learned to love your old grandfather less?" + +"Grandfather!" + +"Forgive me, Lily--old men grow foolish, and do not know what they say +sometimes. I, of all the world, should not say anything to hurt my +Lily's feelings; my Lily, that I love more than all the world besides! +Forgive me, darling." + +"You must not ask me to do that, grandfather," said Lily. "What have I +to forgive? What feeling can I have for you but one of gratitude and +love for all your care of me? Don't think, dear, that I have no +consciousness of it. If you were to look into my heart, you would see +yourself there. Kiss me, my more than father, and say that you forgive +_me_ for my petulance, for my sadness, which I know pains you, but +which I cannot help feeling." + +"There, there, my pet! We kiss each other, and forgive each other. But +you must not be sad. I want you to be bright, as you used to be not so +very long ago, Lily. I want you to smile and to be glad, as youth +should be. I want you to confide in me, if you have any trouble. Lily, +my child, my daughter! I am an old man, worn out and useless, but if I +had within me the life and the strength of twenty men, I would yield +them gladly to make you happy." + +"I know it, dear," and Lily, with her lips to his cheek, nestled to +him as a child might have done; "I know it, and there is part of my +sadness, part of my pain. Don't ask me too many questions, +grandfather. Let us hope everything will come right, and that we shall +be happy by and by. By and by!" she repeated, almost in a whisper. +"When we are at rest!" + +Old Wheels held her face from him to see it more clearly. "Lily!" he +exclaimed, "what makes you say that?" + +"I cannot tell you. Let me lie on your shoulder, dear, and believe +that I love you with all the love a daughter can give to a father. If +my heart aches it is not your fault. And by and by we _shall_ be at +rest, thank God!" + +"Yes, thank God, as you say, my darling!" replied Old Wheels. "To the +old the thought comes naturally--and often thankfully. But to the +young! no, no! It is not natural to hope for the time to come. You +have a bright life before you, my dear, and you must not despond. Why, +I, nearly two generations older than the little flower lying on my +bosom, do not wish yet for the rest you sigh for! I want to live and +see my flower bright and blooming, not drooping as it is now. Come, +cheer up, little flower!" Old Wheels forced himself to speak +cheerfully. "Cheer up, and gladden me with smiles. Here's an old man +who wants them, and whose heart warms at the sight of them. Here am I, +old winter! Come, young spring-flower, give me a glimpse of sunshine." + +Lily looked into the old man's eyes, and smiled, and although there +was sadness in the smile, he professed himself satisfied with the +effort. + +"That's right, and now let us talk about something else. Let me see. +What was I saying? O, about Felix. He is getting along well. Do you +know, Lily, that though he has never spoken of it, I believe he +endured hardships when he first came to London? But he bore them +bravely, and battled through them, never losing heart. Does this +interest you, Lily?" + +"Yes; go on." + +"Felix is a good man, high-minded, honourable, just. He knows how to +suffer in silence, as do all brave natures, my dear. Men are often +changed by circumstances, my dear; but I am sure Felix would not be. +But natures are so different, my dear. Some are like the sea-sand, +running in and out with the waves, never constant. Others are like the +rocks against which the waves beat and dash, as they do at Land's End. +It would do you, my darling, good to go for change of air and scene to +the west, and breathe the purer air that comes across the sea. Perhaps +we will manage it by-and-by--you and I alone. I was a young man when I +was there, but it is the same now as it was then; it is only we who +change. Felix laughed at us the other day--laughed at you, and me, and +himself, and everybody else in the world. 'Go where you will,' he +said, 'you find us crawling over the face of the earth, wrapt up in +ourselves, each man thinking only of himself and his desires, and +making so little of the majesty of nature as to believe himself of +more importance than all the marvels of the heaven and earth.' But he +was not quite right, and I told him so. I told him--no, I should +rather say, I reminded him--that every man did not live only for +himself. That in the lives of many men and women might be found such +noble examples of right-doing and self-sacrifice as were worthy to be +placed side by side with the goodness and the majesty of things. +'Right,' he answered at once, 'nature does not suffer--we do.' Then he +asked me to account for the suffering that often lies in right-doing. +I could not do this, of course. I tried to maintain the side I took in +the argument by saying that the suffering springs out of our +selfishness, out of our being unable, as it were, to wrest ourselves +from ourselves, and to live more in others. And then, after all, it +was but for a short time. Think of the life of a man. How short it is +in comparison with time! 'We are in the world,' he said, 'and should +be of the world.' 'Not against our sense of right,' I answered. 'The +noblest phase of human nature is to do what we believe to be right, +though all the world is against us, though we suffer through it, and +lose the pleasures of the world.' And what do you think this ingenious +young fellow did, Lily, when I said that? Laughed at me, and asked in +return whether there is not a dreadful arrogance in a man placing his +back against a rock, and saying to the world, 'You are all wrong; I +only am right.' Do I tire you, my child, with an old man's babble?" + +"No, my dear," answered Lily; "I love to hear you talk so, although I +cannot understand the exact meaning of all you say." + +Indeed, this "old man's babble" was soothing to Lily; his gentle voice +brought peace to her troubled heart. + +"I have found out, my darling," continued Old Wheels, with a secret +delight at her calmer manner, "that this foolish young man, whom I +love like a son--ay, Lily, like my own son!--is fond of arguing +against himself, of placing himself in a disadvantageous light, of +saying things often that he does not mean. But I know him; I see his +heart and the rare nobility of his nature. Our argument ended thus, +'Come,' I said, 'answer me fairly. Can you believe in a man giving +judgment against himself?' 'If,' he said, 'by "yourself" you mean your +hopes, your desires, your heart's yearnings--and these, being in the +life of a man, comprise himself--I answer, yes. I can imagine a man +loving a thing, thirsting for it, believing that his life's happiness +is comprised in the possession of it, and yet standing by quietly, +and letting it slip from him, with his heart aching all the while! +There is a higher attribute than love,' he said. I asked him what it +was, and he answered, 'Duty!'" + +Lily raised her head from the old man's breast; her eyes were bright, +her face was flushed. + +"Do _you_ believe this, grandfather?" + +The old man returned her earnest gaze, and was silent for many +moments. Some deeper meaning than usual was in their gaze, and +although neither of them could have explained how it had come about, +both by some mysterious instinct were aware of the solemn significance +which would attach to the answer of the girl's question. He placed his +arms tenderly about her, but not so as to hide his face from her. + +"Yes, child," he said gently, "I believe it. But"--and his voice +trembled here, and his gaze grew more wistful--"not mistaken duty. If +I had a friend whom I loved, whom I trusted faithfully and implicitly, +whom I believed to be honest and true and single-hearted, I should--if +such a crisis in the conflict of love and duty should unhappily arise +in my life--take counsel from him." + +Her eyes drooped before his, and the next moment her face was hidden +on his breast again. + +"Tell me," she whispered, so softly that he had to bend his head to +hear, "do you think that such a crisis has arisen----" + +"Go on, my child," he said, in a tone almost as soft as hers, for she +had paused suddenly. "Speak what is in your heart." + +"Do you think, grandfather, that such a crisis has arisen in the life +of any one whom you love very dearly?" + +"I do, dear child." + +He would have continued the subject, but she begged him, with a tender +caress, not to speak for a little while; to let her rest. He called +her again his sweet flower, his spring flower, and obeyed her. They +remained silent for a long while, and Old Wheels thought she had +fallen asleep. But Alfred's light step upon the stairs undeceived him. +Immediately Alfred entered the room she went eagerly to his side, and +placed her arms round his neck. + +"I am so glad you have come, Alfred!" + +Alfred returned the kiss she gave him, and asked her why she looked so +pale. + +"You want excitement, Lil--that's what you want. Wait till the summer +comes; I'll take you into the country, and we'll have a regular time +of it. Well, now, I've come to give you a bit of change, Lil. I want +you to have tea quick and dress yourself out. I've got an order for +the theatre." + +"O Alfred!" exclaimed Lily, "you are kind. I shall dearly like to go." + +"It's a box, Lil, for the Lyceum. Mr. Sheldrake gave it to me, and +he's coming with Lizzie to fetch us. We'll have to be quick; so +bustle, Lil, and get tea ready. See, grandfather; she has a colour +already. Excitement--that's what she wants." + +Old Wheels said nothing, but cast a furtive glance at Lily, who, +however, did not observe it; and soon tea was ready and over, and Lily +went to her room to dress. When she came back in her pretty warm +dress, the old man said, + +"I am glad you have put on that dress, Lily; I was afraid you were +going to dress yourself out, as Alfred said. Shall I come to the +theatre and fetch you." + +"O no," replied Alfred, who, having just come into the room, had heard +the question; "we'll bring her home all right. There's the cab!" + +He ran down stairs, and Mr. Sheldrake came in with a flower in his +coat, and another in his hand, which, with a bow and a few pleasant +words, he handed to Lily, who placed it in her hair, thanking him. +Between Old Wheels and Mr. Sheldrake nothing but the commonest +commonplaces of conversation ever passed; they did not get along very +well together, and although neither could have complained of the other +for want of politeness, each knew that the other was not his friend. +With Lizzie and Old Wheels it was different; Lily always expressed +herself so enthusiastically about her friend, that the old man, first +out of love for his granddaughter, and afterwards for Lizzie's own +sake, had grown to like her. + +"We're going to have a pleasant evening," said Lizzie, who had dressed +herself in her brightest; "I wish you were coming with us, Mr. +Wheels." + +"I wish so, too," said Alfred, "and it's a pity that they only allow +four in the box. Isn't it so, Mr. Sheldrake?" + +"The order says for four," replied Mr. Sheldrake politely; "but if Mr. +Wheels wishes----" + +"No, no, thank you," said Old Wheels, with a hurried motion of his +hand; "Lily is quite safe in the company of her brother." + +"And in mine," added Lizzie, with somewhat of earnestness in her +rejoinder. + +"I think she is, my dear," said Old Wheels. + +When they were gone, Old Wheels paced the room thoughtfully, listening +anxiously to every footfall on the stairs. Felix seldom missed an +evening, and at about seven o'clock his welcome knock was at the door. + +"All alone, sir?" he asked, looking round. + +Old Wheels nodded: "I thought Lily would have spent the evening here +with us quietly, Felix; but she has gone out with her brother. Felix, +I want you to accept a little token from me. I know you smoke, and +passing a shop where I saw this cabinet for sale, I thought you would +like it, as a small remembrance from a friend. See--I have made +castors to it, so that you can wheel it noiselessly across the table +to a friend, and so be unostentatious in your hospitality." + +Felix entertained very enthusiastic notions respecting presents; it +pleased him mightily to receive them, and he would not part with the +smallest token ever given to him for its weight in gold. "They are +testimonies of character," he would say laughingly, when he showed his +few trophies of friendship. He thanked the old man warmly, and said he +was afraid it would lead him into extravagance, as it necessitated an +immediate investment in the best cigars. Felix did not stop long. Upon +Old Wheels telling him that Lily had gone to the Lyceum Theatre, and +that Mr. Sheldrake was of the party, Felix started up, and said that +he must be going. + +"They have a box, you say?" + +"Yes, Felix; Mr. Sheldrake gave it to Alfred." + +"I think I shall run round to the theatre myself." + +Felix uttered these words half questioningly. The old man gave him a +grateful look in reply, and bade Felix good-night as if he were +anxious to get rid of him. + +The only place Felix could obtain in the theatre was at the back of +the pit, but as he could see the box in which Lily was seated, he was +satisfied. Lily and Lizzie were sitting in the front of the box, and +bending over them occasionally were Mr. Sheldrake and Alfred. A great +many opera-glasses were levelled admiringly at the box, at which marks +of attention Mr. Sheldrake was mightily pleased, taking himself, and +with justice, the credit of having brought to the theatre the two +prettiest girls in it. Soon after Felix's entrance, the curtain rose +upon the dramatised version of The Polish Jew. + +The gloom of this play was perfect; there was no light in it. No +interest was taken in the love-story comprised in the courtship of +Christian and Annette; no spark of tender sympathy was touched in the +breast of one of the spectators. The attention of all was centred in +the figure of Mathias the burgomaster and in his terrible life. When, +at the end of the first act, the curtain fell on the agony of the +undiscovered murderer, every trace of colour which the animation of +the theatre and the excitement of the lights and bustle had brought +into Lily's face, had departed from it. Mr. Sheldrake was loud in +his applause. "It was a wonderful piece! A grand conception! And how +well the principal actor plays the part of the burgomaster!" Alfred +was also pleased with it, but neither of the girls liked it. Towards +the end of the act Lizzie wanted Lily to shift her seat to the back of +the box, but Lily whispered "No, no!" and was not conscious that she +spoke. She was fascinated, and could not move. The two men, of course, +went out for refreshment, and sent in some for the girls, which +neither of them touched. The second act commenced and progressed, and +the horror of the piece increased in intensity; when the curtain again +fell upon the wild delirium of the murderer, Lily shuddered as if she +were suffering his agonies. Alfred and Mr. Sheldrake addressed her, +but she did not answer, did not seem indeed to heed or hear them. +Seeing that Lily would not move from her conspicuous position in the +box, Lizzie shifted her seat to the back of her friend's and put her +arm round Lily's waist, and clasped her hand; it was nearly cold, +notwithstanding the heat of the crowded theatre. + +Lizzie whispered to Alfred not to speak to Lily, but to wait until the +ghastly piece was over, and she whispered also that she wished he had +taken them to see something lighter and more lively. Alfred, feeling +remorseful at first, said he did not know what kind of a piece it was, +and then turned petulant, and called Lizzie ungrateful. On another +occasion, this would have led to a lovers' quarrel, but Lizzie's +attention was otherwise occupied just now. During the progress of the +horrors contained in the last act, the hand which Lizzie clasped grew +icy cold, and Lizzie herself was compelled to turn her face from the +ghastly picture upon which the curtain finally fell. + +"Come, Lily," said Lizzie, in a cheerful voice, delighted that the +horrible curiosity was at an end. + +But Lily's feelings were overwrought, and for answer she sank fainting +to the ground. + +"Get away from her!" cried Lizzie to Mr. Sheldrake, who was stooping +to raise her. + +Mr. Sheldrake, amazed at the fierceness in the girl's voice, bit his +lip and obeyed her. If he had put his thoughts into words, he would +have said, "You little tiger-cat, I will pay you for this!" Lily drew +Lizzie to the back of the box, out of sight of the audience, whose +attention had been aroused by the bustle. "That pretty girl has +fainted," said some; "did you see how white she turned before the +piece was over?" + +The rising of the people in the pit prevented Felix from seeing what +had occurred; but he had noticed Lily's pallor and the horrible +fascination which the drama had for her. He had resolved upon his line +of action, and now he hurried out of the theatre, and engaged a cab. + +"I want you," he said to the cabman, "to follow a party that I shall +point out to you, who will either walk or ride, and to follow them in +such a manner as not to be observed. If you succeed in this, double +fare." + +The cabman knew a gentleman, that is, a man whose money was sure, when +he saw him, and he raised his whip to his hat, and said, "All right, +sir, I'm awake;" and drew his cab to a convenient spot. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIII. + + LIZZIE DEEMS IT NECESSARY TO CALL CUNNING TO HER AID. + + +The first thing Lily saw when she recovered consciousness was Lizzie's +face bending down to hers. In that instant Lizzie began to act: as all +women do upon every possible occasion. If those who enlist in the +ranks of the drama would but act on the stage as they act off it, +there would be no talk of the decadence of dramatic art. Every trace +of anxiety vanished from Lizzie's face as Lily's eyes looked into +hers, and she smiled so brightly and nodded so encouragingly as to +infuse strength into the heart of her friend. + +"Where am I, Lizzie?" + +"With friends, my dear. The theatre was so hot that I almost fainted +myself." + +"Did I faint, then? How foolish of me!" A look of joy filled her eyes +as they lighted on her brother. "O Alfred!" + +He knelt by her side, and she took his hand and retained it. By this +time the theatre was fast being emptied. + +"I remember now what it was that overcame me. The horrible sight of +that man dying!" + +She shuddered, and Lizzie said briskly, + +"Never mind; we're not going to think of that any more. It was only a +piece of acting, after all. We'll go to see something more lively next +time." + +And Lizzie nodded emphatically at Alfred, who answered, + +"Yes, we will. I didn't know what sort of a piece this was, or I +shouldn't have brought you to see it." + +"But Mr. Sheldrake knew," remarked Lizzie, with a sharp glance in the +direction of that gentleman. + +"I assure you I did not," was Mr. Sheldrake's reply. "You do me great +injustice, and not for the first time to-night. I have too high a +regard for Miss Lily to cause her pain. She knows that, I am sure; and +so does Alfred." + +"I know it well," interposed Alfred eagerly; "and Lily knows it too. +How can you be so unjust, Liz?" + +Lily turned to her friend. "I am so sorry for all this. I am the only +one to blame for being so weak and foolish." + +This brought Mr. Sheldrake out in full force; he was almost tender in +his expressions of sympathy for Lily, and he even relented so far +towards Lizzie as to hold up a warning finger as a caution not to be +unjust to her friends for the future. + +"And now," he said, when Lily was ready to depart, "I propose we go +and have a little supper." + +"No, thank you," said Lizzie, in a decided tone, not at all softened +by the evidence of Mr. Sheldrake's magnanimity. + +Mr. Sheldrake bit his lip. + +"You speak for all," he said. + +"I think so. Lily will not go without me, and of course Alfred must +see me home." + +"Why won't you accept Mr. Sheldrake's invitation, Liz?" asked Alfred +uneasily. + +"Daddy is waiting up for me, and we have a long way to go. And +besides, Lily is unwell." + +For one instant, Mr. Sheldrake hesitated; but only for an instant. + +"Well, it's of no use trying to persuade you. A wilful woman will have +her way. How do you propose we shall go home?" he asked of Lizzie in a +tone of sarcastic politeness. "Your way is different from ours." + +Lizzie decided this without hesitation. They would all go in one cab, +and drop Lily at the door of her grandfather's house in Soho, and then +Alfred should see Lizzie home. Mr. Sheldrake made no demur to her +suggestion, and the party drove from the theatre. But he stopped the +cab at the corner of the little street in Soho, and said that the +driver need not turn, as he could see Lily the few yards she had to +go. He jumped out of the cab, and said to Alfred, + +"By-the-bye, Alf, I want to say a word or two to you. The girls will +excuse us for a moment." + +Alfred and he walked half-a-dozen steps from the cab, and then he +turned upon Alfred, and asked what was the meaning of Lizzie's +behaviour. + +"I don't know," replied Alfred; "I never saw her in such a humour +before. I hope you don't think I am to blame for what has occurred." + +"I haven't stopped to think. When a man's made mad as I've been +to-night, he doesn't think of much else but the cause. Look here, +Alfred, I don't want to pry into your secrets, my boy, and I don't +want to spoil your love-making. You know best whether I've been a +friend to you or not----" + +"You have been," interrupted Alfred eagerly; "a true friend!" + +"Well, then, I'm not going to be made to look small by any sweetheart +of yours. I've nothing to say against Lizzie; but she mustn't come any +of her tricks with me. Take my advice. Tell her to be more civil to me +for the future. If she isn't--" here he paused, and gave Alfred a +significant look--"well, if she isn't, I might turn rusty. And that +might be awkward for you, Alf." + +There was no mistaking his meaning, and Alfred's heart sickened at the +threat conveyed in the words. It suited Mr. Sheldrake not to notice +Alfred's discomposure, and they returned to the cab in silence. + +"I'll walk with you, Lily," said Lizzie, as Mr. Sheldrake held out his +hand to assist Lily from the cab; "it's only a few steps, and the cab +can wait." + +But Mr. Sheldrake put a restraining hand upon her arm. + +"I can see Miss Lily safely to her door," he said politely. "You have +a long way to go, and Mr. Musgrave is waiting up for you, you said. +It's very late, and you'd best be moving. Eh, Alfred?" + +"Yes, yes," returned Alfred hurriedly; "we must rattle on. Good-night, +Mr. Sheldrake. I'll see you to-morrow some time." + +The cab drove away, and for a few moments neither Lizzie nor Alfred +spoke. Their thoughts were not in unison. But Lizzie, the more gentle +nature of the two, presently crept close to Alfred and placed her hand +in his. He threw it from him angrily. She resented this at first, and +shrank from him; but a better feeling came upon her soon, and she +asked: + +"What have I done, Alfred, that you behave in this manner to me?" + +"Done!" he repeated, with bitter emphasis. "Been the ruin of me, I +shouldn't wonder!" + +"Alfred!" + +"O, yes," he said sullenly. "It's all very well for you to cry Alfred +in that tone; but it won't mend matters. I thought you loved me----" + +"Have I not proved it, Alfred?" she interrupted, in a tone of sadness. + +"But I have found out my mistake," he continued, not heeding her +words; "it's always the way. Mr. Sheldrake is right in what he says +about women; no man ought to trust them." + +"Do you think you ought not to trust me? + +"Do you think there is anything in the world that I would not do for +your sake? O Alfred, you speak blindly!" + +"I am the best judge of that," he returned quickly; "you don't know +all. If there is nothing in the world that you would not do for my +sake, why should you act in such a manner to-night as to set Mr. +Sheldrake dead against me?" + +Lizzie did not reply for a few moments; her face was turned towards +her lover, as if striving to read his thoughts. She could not see his +features distinctly in the gloom of the cab, but his voice was a +sufficient index to the trouble that possessed him. + +"You speak as if you were afraid of Mr. Sheldrake, Alfred?" + +"I should have reason to be if he turned rusty. He gave me a warning +to-night." + +"Because I displeased him?" + +"Yes, because of you. It makes me sick to think of it, to speak of it. +I wish I was dead! I am the most miserable wretch in the world! If it +were not for you and Lily, I think I should make away with myself." + +"Don't speak like that, Alf," said Lizzie, placing her arm tenderly +around him; "it breaks my heart to see you so unhappy. I know you love +me and Lily. And you ought to be sure that we are better friends to +you than Mr. Sheldrake can be, and that we would do more for you if it +was in our power." + +"That's it. If it was in your power. But it isn't, and it _is_ in Mr. +Sheldrake's; and he has behaved like a true friend to me." + +"Sometimes I ask myself, Alfred, what can be his motive?" + +"I know that you are prejudiced against him; and that's the reason you +suspect him, and can't be civil to him. You think he wouldn't do me a +kindness without a motive?" + +"I am sure he wouldn't," said Lizzie firmly; "and I am sure of another +thing--that you, in your heart, do not like him. I wish you had never +seen him." + +"I wish I hadn't," groaned Alfred. + +"And yet you have told me he was your best friend, Alfred." + +"Don't badger me, Liz, for God's sake I am almost torn to pieces as it +is. You ought to comfort me, and try and make things better for me." + +"Ah, if I could! If I knew how to, how gladly would I! Why not +confide entirely in me, Alf? Who can have a better right to your +confidence that the girl that loves you with all her heart and +soul?--as I do, Alf, my dear! Come now, tell me all. Who knows? +Something good may come of it. What's your trouble?" + +"Money." + +"Yes, I know that; and that you owe Mr. Sheldrake more than you can +pay. Tell me how it all came about, dear." + +So by many little endearing ways she coaxed him to tell her the whole +of his miserable story. How, excited by the glowing accounts in the +papers of the easy manner in which fortunes could be made on the turf, +he had commenced to bet, a few shillings at the time at first; how he +attended races, and how one unfortunate day he won a few pounds, and +came home flushed with the idea that he had found the philosopher's +stone; how little by little he had been led on, with the inevitable +result of losing more than he could afford; how on one important race, +when the prophets and tipsters in every one of the papers declared--in +such glowing and confident terms that it was impossible to resist the +temptation of making a bold plunge for fortune--that a certain horse +could not possibly lose, he had used money which did not belong to +him; and how the horse came in last instead of first. + +"I had to make up that money, of course," he continued; "I had to get +it somehow; and I did get it--never mind in what manner. You can +imagine what I suffered, Liz! I thought I had fortune in my hands; and +I had, but I was tricked out of it--for the whole affair was a +swindle. The horse was never intended to win; and they swore it +couldn't lose." + +He derived comfort from the confession he was making; he took no blame +to himself; and he did not, when he reached this point, tell her the +story of the theft from the iron box. Then he went on to narrate how +he had made Mr. Sheldrake's acquaintance, and how that gentleman had +lent him money from time to time, and how misfortune continued to +pursue him. He would have had his pockets filled with money over and +over again if it had not been that things invariably went wrong with +him just at the critical moment. + +"It was from no want of judgment on my part, Liz. I had got to learn +as much as any of the prophets and tipsters, and yet I could never +manage to turn up trumps. I saw other fellows, who didn't know in +their whole bodies as much as I knew in my little finger, make +hundreds and hundreds of pounds. It only wants sticking to, Liz. I'll +make all our fortunes yet; you see if I don't! There's the City and +Suburban coming on; and I know something that'll open their eyes. And +when I pay Mr. Sheldrake the money I owe him, I'll cut with him, if +it's only to please you." + +By the time he had reached the end of his recital he had recovered +some of his good spirits. Lizzie listened in silence, and interrupted +him only once, to ask whether he ever made any bets with Mr. +Sheldrake. + +"O, no," was the reply; "Sheldrake will never bet with me, Liz. Why, +sometimes he tries to persuade me not to back a horse that I'm sweet +on, and even tries to persuade me not to bet on races at all. 'It's a +bad game, Alf,' he has said to me more than once, 'it's a bad game, +unless you've got a strong bank at your back, and unless you can hold +out for a long time.' Well, then, I ask him how it was he had managed +to make his money; and he can't help telling me the truth. He was dead +broke, Liz, in a worse fix than I'm in now--ay, a thousand times +worse--he has told me so lots of times; but he stuck to it until on +one race he had taken a bet of a thousand pounds to ten, and his horse +won. There he was, all right in a minute. He was a made man directly +the horse passed the winning-post. He told me how he threw his hat in +the air, and how he almost danced for joy. Then the money began to +roll in. That's how it is, Liz. You've only got to stick to it long +enough, and keep your heart up." + +"Do you bet with any of Mr. Sheldrake's friends, Alf?" + +"With one--Con Staveley." + +Lizzie repeated, under her breath, "Con Staveley!" as if desiring to +fix the name in her memory. + +"Con gives me long odds--longer than I should be able to get from any +other of the commission agents or from any of the clubs. One of these +days I shall give him a nip, as sure as fate. He has told me so, +often, laughingly. 'You'll nip me one of these fine days, Alf,' he +said; and 'I shall have to hand you over a big cheque. Well, you may +as well have it as anybody else.' And I mean to have it, Liz. If I +don't make it out of the City and Suburban, I'll make it out of the +Derby. Would you like to go to the Derby, Liz? + +"And so," concluded Alfred, when he came to the end of his story, +which he had told and coloured in such a way as to make it appear that +it was only by an extraordinary combination of ill-chances that he was +not "rolling in money" at the present time, "you see where my chance +lies. I shall be sure to come up all right, if I go on. And I _must_ +go on, Liz; that's a fact. It's my only chance. And as Mr. Sheldrake +can shut me up at any minute, I must be careful not to offend him. I +want you to be civil to him, for my sake, if you won't for his own." + +"I'll try to, Alf." + +"That's a dear! I can't understand why you are so bitter against him. +At one time you were always praising him; and you've some reason to be +thankful to him. I'm sure he's been, very kind to you and Mr. +Musgrave." + +"It looks so," said Lizzie thoughtfully, "outwardly." + +She said no more; for she was keen enough to see that many conflicting +influences were at work. That Alfred was blind to Mr. Sheldrake's +character was plain; and, indeed, the feeling she entertained against +him was really nothing more than a matter of prejudice. But her +instincts were dead against him; and she thoroughly distrusted him. +There is often in woman's character a sort of unreasoning reason, to +the whisperings of which she tenaciously clings, even though outward +evidence almost surely prove it to be based upon false grounds. And in +the majority of instances, the instinct which prompts this refusal of +direct evidence is correct. Mr. Sheldrake had become Lizzie's Doctor +Fell; and she judged him accordingly. + +The conversation she had had with Alfred this night set her thinking +more seriously. She yearned to set matters right; but turn which way +she did, one obstacle started up constantly before her--Mr. Sheldrake. +He seemed to hold them all in his power by the relations which existed +between him and Alfred. As she thought of the terrible blow he could +inflict upon them all, she began to hate him. Alfred was powerless; +Lily was powerless; Mr. Musgrave was powerless. Lizzie had a large +share of woman's wit and cunning, and much confidence in herself. In +her musings now, Mr. Sheldrake presented himself to her in the light +of a foe to her dearest hopes, as one who was weaving treacherous webs +around her friends; and she found herself watching him, and looking +about her for some means to break the threads, and so defeat him. "If +I had some one to help me," she thought, "some man to depend upon who +is not in Mr. Sheldrake's power. Felix!" She started; for the name had +come so suddenly upon her, and with such vivid force, as to make her +almost fancy that she had really heard it spoken. Felix! The man of +all others whom she would have chosen; the man of all others upon whom +she could best depend. The thought of him gave her such hope and +comfort, that she kissed Alfred tenderly. He returned her caress, and +called her a dear good girl, and told her how he loved her. + +Mr. Musgrave, who was waiting up for Lizzie, heard the sound of the +cab wheels, and ran to the gate. + +"Will you come inside, Alfred?" he asked. + +"No, thank you, I will bid Lizzie good-night here." + +"I'll be in presently, daddy," said Lizzie, with a kiss, which sent +the old man into the house with a light heart. + +As the lovers stood together in the quiet night, some better +influences, born of the peace which surrounded him and of the +consciousness of the love which Lizzie bore towards him, entered +Alfred's heart, and he experienced a genuine feeling of regret for the +folly of the past. It had floated him on to rocks so perilous that his +liberty was endangered and his honour was lost. How much better had it +been for him and all of them had he avoided the fatal snares! "Let me +but once get free," he thought, "and I will take care not to be caught +again." In this way do all weak natures repent the consequences of +their folly. What was bad in Alfred's nature sprang out of his +weakness; his very selfishness only asserted itself when he was in +trouble--but then, indeed, it asserted itself with such strength as to +sweep aside every other consideration, and as to make it impossible +for him to recognise the danger he might inflict on those he loved in +his efforts to free himself from the net he had woven for himself. + +The lovers did not part for nearly an hour. The little that Lizzie +said to Alfred soothed and comforted him, and when he bade her the +last good-night, and gave her the last kiss, he was in a quieter and +better mood than he was when they quitted the theatre. + +"Will Lily be asleep when you get home, Alf?" asked Lizzie. + +"I should think so, Liz." + +"And I should think not so, Alf," said Lizzie, half gaily, half sadly. +"See. When you are at home, knock at her door, and if she is awake, +give her this kiss from me." + +She watched Alfred till he was out of sight, then went indoors, where +Mr. Musgrave was patiently waiting for her. + +"Did you enjoy yourself, Lizzie?" + +"Yes--no," replied Lizzie, taking off her hat and mantle. "It isn't a +very lively piece, and Lily was ill. Why, how pale you've turned, +daddy! She was better before we left her. It was the piece made her +ill, I think." + +"Tell me more about it, Lizzie; she was well when she went to the +theatre?" + +"O yes, and we thought we were going to enjoy ourselves very much. And +so we should have done if the play had been a lively one. But it was +horrible. I wouldn't go to see it again for ever so much. Well, and +the theatre was very hot and the last scene was so dreadful that Lily +fainted. She soon recovered, and we all went to Soho in one cab." + +"That was right, Lizzie." + +"Yes," said Lizzie, with assumed carelessness, but watching the old +man keenly, "it was my doing, that was. Mr. Sheldrake wanted to walk +home with Lily, and wanted me and Alfred to start off at once in a cab +from the theatre--but I wouldn't have it so. I insisted that we should +all go together, and that we should drop Lily at her door. Mr. +Sheldrake wasn't very pleased. To tell you the truth, daddy, I think I +rather set him against me to-night. Do you mind?" + +Such a concentrated look of watchfulness did she flash into his face +that it would have startled him to see. But as he did not see, he +could only answer her spoken words. + +"No, my dear, I don't mind; but it will be as well not to quarrel with +him, if you can help it." + +"He would be a dangerous enemy, wouldn't he, daddy?" + +"Yes, my dear; very dangerous." + +"So if we know he _is_ our enemy we shall have to behave cunningly +towards him; we shall have to be on our guard. To be civil to him to +his face, and ready to tear him to pieces directly we get a chance." + +There was so much excitement in her words and manner that Mr. Musgrave +looked at her in uneasy amazement. She walked about the room +restlessly, with a bright flame in her cheeks. Presently she grew +calmer, and sat down by the table, on which supper was laid. There was +trouble in her face, and it brought trouble into his. + +"Take some supper, Lizzie; we will talk afterwards." + +"No, we will talk now. I can't eat any supper. Mr. Sheldrake wanted us +to go with him to some supper-rooms, but I wouldn't hear of it. Was I +right?" + +"Quite right." + +"So that I've been twice right to-night, and this enemy of ours with +the curled moustaches has been twice wrong. + +"You seem to be very much set against Mr. Sheldrake, my dear." + +"_Seem_ to be! I am. I mean every word I say, and a good deal more. +Tell me--do _you_ like him?" + +"He is my employer, Lizzie, and could turn us out of this house any +day he chose." + +"And could do many other hard things--and would, and will, if he's +thwarted; so we must be cunning, and must enter into a league against +him. Shake hands upon it." And she held out her hand earnestly to +him. "Shake hands upon it!" she repeated, almost vehemently. + +"Child, child!" he said sorrowfully. "I take your hand, and kiss it +because I love you, and because I feel that your words convey a deeper +meaning than they express. But I am an old man, and I have seen +trouble, and have felt its bitter experiences. I would not willingly +encourage you in what may bring bad consequences to both of us." + +"Not if we are wary, daddy--not if we are cunning. You don't know what +prompts me to speak so! Ah, daddy! Do you remember my telling you, +when you first opened out the prospect of this pretty little cottage +to me, that I was wilful, and might tease you a good deal, and that +for that reason you had better consider very seriously whether it +would do for you and me to live together as you proposed? I don't know +whether to be thankful or sorry that I consented. I was very happy +then--very, very happy." + +"You did it for my sake, Lizzie," he said humbly. + +"Not altogether; I did it a good deal for my own. I thought how nice +it would be for Alfred." + +She covered her face with her hands to hide her tears. + +"You took pity on my lonely life, Lizzie, and I bless you for it, my +child! You have brought much happiness to me, and things have occurred +to me since then--such wonderful things." + +She looked up, with the tears in her eyes. + +"What wonderful things, daddy?" + +"That is my secret, my dear," he said sadly. "You do not know the +history of my past life. The time may come--and soon--when you will +learn it. I have become a better man, I hope, since we came to live +here. Sit by me, my child, and tell me your trouble." + +She seated herself on a stool at his feet, and took his hand and +caressed it. + +"And you have a secret, too," she murmured, "and a new one. We all of +us have secrets, I think, that we are keeping from one another." + +"All of us! Have you a secret that you keep from me?" + +"Yes, daddy; and one that I must not tell anybody, not even you. I +have promised. You must not ask me any questions about it, for I +cannot answer them." + +"Very well, my dear. But tell me the reason of your feeling against +Mr. Sheldrake." + +"Suppose you knew that he could destroy the happiness of the one you +loved best in the world--suppose you knew that he was ready to use +that power if you crossed him in any of his bad ways." + +"That is all supposing, Lizzie." + +"It is reality to me. Mr. Sheldrake has Alfred in his power, and can +ruin him any minute he pleases. Alfred told me so to-night. O, daddy, +daddy! I am unhappy and miserable, and I don't know which way to turn +if you will not help me." + +"I will help you, child, in any way that I can. Does Alfred owe Mr. +Sheldrake money?" + +"Yes, more than he can pay." + +"How has that come about?" + +"You must not tell anybody. Alfred would be angry. Alfred has lost the +money in betting on horses." + +Mr. Musgrave started. The business that was conducted in Ivy Cottage +was conducted in so secret a manner that Lizzie did not know its +nature. She had been curious about it, and once or twice had asked the +old man; but he had laughingly evaded her, and it was she who had +dubbed the room in which he and Mr. Sheldrake were often closeted +together for so long a time the Bluebeard's room. + +"Does he bet with Mr. Sheldrake, Lizzie?" + +"No--with a man named Con Staveley." + +The guilty look that stole into Mr. Musgrave's face bore no meaning to +Lizzie's sense. Some part of the scheme was now revealed to him. Mr. +Sheldrake lent Alfred money, which he received back through Con +Staveley; and he himself perhaps had been an unconscious instrument in +Mr. Sheldrake's hands, and had assisted in Alfred's entanglement. But +what could be Mr. Sheldrake's motive? There was nothing to be gained +from Alfred, who had no money and no expectations. Knowing Mr. +Sheldrake thoroughly, Mr. Musgrave knew well that there must be some +deep motive at the bottom of all this. The old man had parts of the +chain in his hand, but the important link was wanting. Could Lizzie +supply it? + +"Have Alfred and Mr. Sheldrake been friends for a very long time, +Lizzie?" + +"No, daddy; not twelve months, I think." + +"How did they become acquainted?" + +"I don't quite know, but I suspect it was through Lily." + +"Through Lily!" echoed the old man, almost in a whisper. + +"I think that Mr. Sheldrake lends Alfred money because of her. I +think--no, I don't think; I am sure--that Mr. Sheldrake wants Lily to +be fond of him." + +Lizzie was frightened at the white face which met her gaze. A terrible +fear smote the old man dumb for a time. The missing link was found! +This Mr. Sheldrake--this man without principle, without honour, +without heart--had designs upon the tender girl who had brought light +into the old man's life. Lizzie had indeed found a friend in her +design--how eager and willing a friend she little knew--but one whose +motive for aiding her was so strong as to overleap every other +consideration in life. + +"You are ill, daddy!" she cried. + +He rose and paced the room, and Lizzie's anxious eyes watched him. +What were his thoughts during the silence that followed he did not +reveal. But a new strength seemed to have entered into him, and he +paused before his adopted child with a determination in his face which +robbed him of many years. + +"Answer my questions, Lizzie," he said, "without asking for reasons. +First let me tell you that when you brought Lily here as your friend, +I was glad. I have grown to love her, as well as I love you, child. +Has she any affection for Mr. Sheldrake?" + +"No!" Very decided and emphatic was Lizzie's reply. + +"Thank God for it! He is unworthy of her. You speak as if you knew." + +"How do girls learn each other's secrets, daddy? Lily has never told +me, although I have tried to coax her a hundred times. She loves +another man. I know this as well as I know that I love Alfred with all +my heart and soul." + +"A good man, Lizzie?" + +"One of the best of men, daddy." + +"Do not answer carelessly, child. I have a stake in this, perhaps as +deep and as strong as yours." + +"I do not answer carelessly, daddy. Your manner gives me such hope! I +am so glad I have spoken to-night. The man she loves and who loves +her, I am sure, is one to be honoured--a man worthy of any girl, +worthy even of Lily." + +"You asked me to give you my hand a little while ago, my dear. I give +it to you now in the way that you wished." + +There was something solemn in the manner in which he held out his hand +to her; and something altogether so new and earnest in him, that it +stirred her to deeper feeling, as his hand closed over hers. + +"Now for Alfred," he said; "do you know if he bets in his own name?" + +"He has never told me." + +"You have some letters of his?" + +"Yes, daddy." + +"It is time for you to go to bed, my dear. I want to see Alfred's +writing. I will come up with you, and you will give me one or two of +his letters. Trust me, child, I have a good reason for what I am +doing. So now, kiss me, and let us go upstairs." + +He kissed her at her bedroom door again, when she gave him the +letters. + +"We'll try and be a match for this enemy of ours, Lizzie." + +"O daddy," she answered, with a bright look, "you have made my heart +light!" + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIV. + + GOOD COUNSEL. + + +The cab was turning the corner of the little street in Soho in which +Lily lived, and Lily was about to ring the door-bell, when Mr. +Sheldrake laid his hand on her wrist, and said: + +"Let me have a few minutes' conversation with you to-night. I beg it +as a favour." + +Not daring for Alfred's sake to refuse, Lily tremblingly suggested +that they should go indoors and talk; but Mr. Sheldrake said, in a +tone that was half decided and half imploring: + +"I cannot speak to you in the house." + +She raised her eyes to his face for an explanation, and he answered +the look. + +"Your grandfather is not my friend." + +"But that is not grandfather's fault," she said loyally. + +"I do not say it is; it is my misfortune, perhaps. He is not so much a +friend of Alfred's as he should be." + +"How can you say that?" asked Lily, with a beating heart. "You are +wrong--very wrong; grandfather loves Alfred." + +"I only judge from what Alfred has told me. So far as regards myself, +of course, I can see that your grandfather is not over cordial to me. +He has no right to be otherwise; I have been a good friend to his +grandson, and I deserve some better return." + +"I know, I know, Mr. Sheldrake," said Lily earnestly. "Alfred has told +me of your kindness to him. I am very grateful to you for it, believe +me." + +"Well, then," rejoined Mr. Sheldrake briskly, "you can scarcely +refuse me the small favour of a few minutes' quiet conversation with +you--although I accept it as a great favour. It is a fine night, and +after the heat of the theatre, the air will do you no harm." + +She had no power to refuse, and they turned slowly from the door. Near +to the house was an arched avenue which led to one of the larger +thoroughfares. Not many persons were stirring in this quiet courtway, +and thither Mr. Sheldrake led Lily. + +"If we walk up and down slowly," he said, "our talking together at +this time of night will not attract attention. Pray take my arm." + +She laid her hand lightly on his sleeve, and waited anxiously for his +next words. + +"I hope," he said, looking into her face with an expression of tender +solicitude, "that the effects of your faintness have quite passed +away." + +"Yes, thank you. It was very stupid of me to give way so." + +"You must not say that. You could not help it. And you are the last +person, I am sure, to give pain to your friends." + +She raised her eyes to his. + +"It pained me exceedingly to see you overcome, and I could not help +reproaching myself for being the innocent cause of your suffering." + +"You were not to know that I was so weak; you did not know what kind +of a play it was we were going to see." + +"Thank you, Miss Lily," he said eagerly, "thank you. You do me greater +justice than your friend Lizzie did. I think she must be ungrateful." + +"No, indeed," said Lily warmly. "She is the very reverse of that. You +must not speak ill of Lizzie, Mr. Sheldrake." + +"Your wish is law," he replied gallantly; "but if she is not +ungrateful, I am the most unfortunate of men, for I have by some +unaccountable means incurred the displeasure of two persons whom you +love--your grandfather and Lizzie." + +He paused here, anticipating, and wishing, that Lily would have +replied to this, but she was silent. + +"And the mystery is, that both have good reason to behave differently +towards me, to think better of me, for they must know that I have +stood a good friend to Alfred. You know that." + +"Yes." + +"We entered into a compact, if you remember--you and I--to work +together for Alfred's good. You _do_ remember it, do you not?" + +"Yes." + +"That was at Bushey Park. It is one of the pleasantest days in my +remembrance. Well, now, I've tried to perform my part in the contract. +I've stood Alfred's friend through thick and thin--very few men +would have stuck to him as I have done. However, I can take no credit +to myself for doing so; he has you to thank for it--only you. Why, +here am I repeating the very few words I said to you on the day we +entered into partnership!" + +His treacherous hand closed upon hers with a tender pressure which +made her shiver. Not so much in the words he had spoken, but in the +manner of their utterance, he made her understand that he held +Alfred's safety--perhaps his life--in his hand, and she felt that if +she repulsed him Alfred would be made to suffer. He released her +presently, and encouraged by her submission his treacherous arms would +have stolen round her waist. But instinctively she evaded the embrace, +and stood apart from him. Had her life depended upon it, she could not +have acted otherwise. At this moment a man passed through the archway. +Mr. Sheldrake's back was towards the man, who, with a keen observance +of Lily's attitude, walked slowly onwards in the direction of Lily's +home. Mr. Sheldrake waited until the man was out of hearing before he +spoke again. + +"I hope I have not frightened you by telling you that very few men +would have stood by Alfred as I have done, Miss Lily?" How strong the +armour of modesty is, was never better shown than in the fact that the +man of the world had not yet found courage to address her simply by +her Christian name. "But it is a fact, I assure you. I daresay Alfred +has confided in you, and has told you some of his troubles?" + +"I don't know the exact nature of them; I only know that he is very +much harassed." + +"Perhaps it is better," said Mr. Sheldrake significantly, "that your +knowledge should go no farther. I am afraid that he has been very +injudicious--it is a mild phrase, but I would not distress you by +using a harsher term. Let us say that he has been injudicious, +indiscreet. Well, what then? So long as you and I remain true to our +compact, he is safe." + +"Mr. Sheldrake," said Lily, in an agony of alarm, "is Alfred in +danger?" + +"Not while we stand by him. Do not needlessly distress yourself. We'll +see him through it, you and I. Many a young fellow has been wrecked +through want of a friend--but Alfred has two. Shall I tell you what +makes me so earnest in his cause?" + +"No," she replied hurriedly, and looking round as if for help; "not +to-night. It is late, and grandfather will be anxious about me. Some +other time." + +"What if some other time should be too late?" he questioned +pitilessly. "You ask me whether he is in danger, and almost in the +same breath you show unkindness to the only friend who has it in his +power to pull him through his difficulties. I make no boast of being +his friend--it is the simple truth. And what should there be to +displease you in the knowledge that I am your brother's friend because +of the feeling I entertain for you? A girl should be thankful--I will +not speak of gratitude--to be in this way the guardian and protector +of her brother." + +"I am grateful, Mr. Sheldrake, indeed, indeed I am!" + +"You have a strange way of showing it, Miss Lily. Pardon me, if I seem +to speak harshly, but I am deeply wounded by your conduct, and by the +conduct of others who should show a better regard for Alfred's +position. Your grandfather is cold to me--Alfred's sweetheart +misjudges me; but I could forgive these, if you were kind. It is due +to my self-respect--which I cannot forfeit, even to win your good +opinion--to ask you again whether I may tell you what makes me so +earnest in your brother's cause?" + +Thus miserably constrained, Lily whispered, "Yes," in a faint tone, +knowing what was coming, and dreading it. Mr. Sheldrake dropped his +voice to the requisite pitch of tenderness, and prepared to make his +avowal. + +"I saw you first by accident, Miss Lily. I was passing the Royal White +Rose Music-hall one evening--it was in June of last year, a night I +shall never forget--and having a spare half hour I dropped in. Almost +as I entered, you came upon the stage, and from that moment it seemed +to me that my fate was fixed. Such an impression did your sweet face +make upon me that I drove to the hall on the following evening, and +being acquainted with Storks the manager, we spoke together about you. +You remember on that night I threw you a bouquet--I bought it +especially for the pretty girl who had made such an impression upon +me--and after the performance I came to the back of the stage, and had +the pleasure of being introduced to you. I saw that you were too good +for such a place--that you were in every way different from the usual +run of music-hall performers--and you must take the blame on yourself +for having attracted me in such a manner. It is not many girls who +have done so--nay, no other has ever produced a similar impression +upon me. From that moment I began to love you." + +He did not appear to be aware that the very words he employed in +declaring his love showed of what base material it was composed. His +speech flowed smoothly, and he mentally congratulated himself upon his +skill in delivering it. There was no tremor in his voice, for the +situation was not new to him. He had delivered himself of artificial +love-phrases to a score of girls in his time, and he had become +practised in the art; but he was compelled to acknowledge to himself +that never had he found conquest so difficult as this--which gave it +without doubt a keener zest, and made him as artificially earnest as +it was in his false nature to be. + +Lily listened tremblingly. It was the first avowal of love that had +ever been spoken to her, and it met with no response in her heart. But +thought of Alfred's peril compelled her attention. Encouraged by her +silence, Mr. Sheldrake proceeded. + +"I saw you home that night, and after lingering about the street long +after you entered the house--see what an impression you made upon +me!--it was my good fortune to make the acquaintance of your brother. +He has told you of the circumstance probably?" + +He paused for her reply, and she gave it. + +"Yes." Faintly whispered, as if it were wrung from her. + +"He was in some difficulty, and I was enabled to get him out of it. I +was attracted to him by his voice and by his resemblance to you. An +acquaintanceship sprang up between us, and it has been in my power to +assist him on many occasions. I have done so, as you know, for your +sake, and because I love you. There is no need for me to say more. +There is one reward I have looked forward to for befriending your +brother, and whom I shall continue to befriend if I can hope to find +some place in your affection----" + +He placed his arm around her, and so overpowered was she by her inward +conflict of feeling, that she had no power to resist. But at this +critical moment a quick step was heard coming into the archway. Lily +turned with a gasp of relief, and seeing who it was that was +approaching them, involuntarily cried in a joyful tone, + +"Felix!" + +And made a movement towards him. + +Felix raised his hat, and said: + +"Your grandfather is anxious about you, Miss Lily." + +"Have you seen him to-night?" asked Lily. + +"Yes; I have been to see _The Bells_, and he told me that you had gone +to the same theatre. He expected you would have been home before this +time." + +"Miss Lily was in perfectly safe keeping, sir," said Mr. Sheldrake, +biting his lip with vexation at the interruption, and with jealousy at +Lily's more cordial manner towards Felix. + +"I make no question of it," replied Felix politely. "Her grandfather +must be satisfied of that, but I think he expected Alfred would bring +his sister home." + +"I will come at once," said Lily. "Alfred has gone to see Lizzie +home." + +Felix offered his arm, and Lily was about to accept it, when Mr. +Sheldrake interposed. + +"I would like you to assure this person, Miss Lily, that there was no +cause for alarm." + +In a very lofty manner indeed did Mr. Sheldrake make this request. + +"Indeed, no assurance is necessary," said Felix, with the intention of +sparing Lily. + +But Mr. Sheldrake would not be denied. + +"I asked the lady, sir." + +"There was no cause for alarm, Felix." + +"One word before you go," said Mr. Sheldrake. + +Obedient to her look, Felix fell back a pace or two. + +"I will not intrude farther upon you to-night, for I see that you are +fatigued and anxious. Of course you will keep what has passed between +us an entire secret. For Alfred's sake. Out of consideration for you, +I have not told you how serious his position is; I do not wish to +alarm you unnecessarily. But you and I, working together, will be able +to set him straight." + +He pressed her hand tenderly as he wished her good-night; and as she +took Felix's arm, he shaped with his lips the warning words, "For +Alfred's sake," and turned away without a word to Felix. Before Lily +and her protector arrived at the house, Lily said: + +"I have not done anything wrong in stopping to speak to Mr. +Sheldrake." + +"I know that, Lily; but don't say anything more about it." + +"I must. I cannot bear that you should think ill of me; and it has so +strange an appearance that any one less generous than you would +require an explanation, and that I cannot give." + +"If I say I am satisfied, and that I hold you in too perfect esteem to +think ill of you in any way--that I know you have troubles which you +are compelled to keep to your own breast, because they affect others +more than yourself--will that content you?" + +She answered yes, and he gave her the assurance in other words. + +"I have a confession to make before we go in, Lily." + +"You, Felix!" + +"Yes; I have told an untruth, but one which, I think, may be pardoned. +I have not been to your house since eight o'clock. I saw your +grandfather then, and he told me you had gone to see _The Bells_, and +appeared anxious about you. I was anxious, also, for I did not care +that you should see such a piece." + +Lily shuddered. "It was dreadful, Felix! Did you know that I fainted?" + +"No; I noticed that you were very pale." + +"You were watching me, Felix?" + +"Yes, Lily; I was at the back of the pit, and could just see your +box." + +Lily experienced an exquisite delight at this confession. He had come +to the theatre expressly to watch over her. Involuntarily she held out +her hand to him, and allowed it to remain in his grasp. + +"I knew when you came out of the theatre, Lily," he continued, "and +when I came towards you just now, and you asked me if I had been at +home with your grandfather, I saw no other way of avoiding an +unpleasant explanation with Mr. Sheldrake than to say what was not +exactly true. If you can say sincerely that you forgive me for the +subterfuge, you will relieve my mind and make me feel less culpable." + +"No forgiveness can be necessary, Felix, when the only feeling I have +is one of gratitude that you came when you did." + +"Thank you; I am more than sufficiently rewarded. Now I am going to +say something to you, which may need forgiveness; but I depend upon +your generous nature not to misjudge me. My words are prompted by +sincerity and pure esteem, Lily. Shall I go on?" + +"Yes," she answered, looking him earnestly in the face. There was so +much truthfulness in her gaze that he could have taken her to his arms +there and then, believing that she would have found comfort in that +shelter, knowing that it would be to him the greatest happiness earth +could afford. But he mastered the impulse with manly resolve, and with +a tender and chivalrous regard for her weakness. There was no fear, no +doubt, in her face; she knew she could trust him; all the bright +dreams of her youth were embodied in him, and would ever be, though +the dear realisation of them might never, never come. He was her +knight, in the truest sense of the word. + +"You are but a child, Lily," he said, "inexperienced in the world's +hard ways, and bringing only to your aid, in any difficulty you may be +labouring under, a simple heart, unused to the artifice and cunning +which surround us. I have learnt something of the world in my +struggle; and although I have not learned to condemn it--for there is +much that is beautiful in it, Lily--I have learned that it is often +necessary to arm yourself with weapons that you despise, if you would +save yourself from hurt. In battling with the world, a man must not +wear his heart upon his sleeve--there are too many vultures about--he +must not oppose a bare breast to foes whose breasts are mailed. I am +expressing myself in this way, so as to make you understand that +I--who, I would have you believe, despise meanness and unworthiness as +heartily as it is in the power of man to do--feel the necessity of +using weapons in life's battle which I would fain throw aside. There +is nothing more noble than simplicity of heart--I worship it wherever +I see it--but it is a weak weapon, as the world goes, and in most +cases, where it is relied on solely, it becomes woefully bruised. Say +that you are in any trouble, that any cloud hangs over your life, that +you are threatened by storms which you see approaching to you nearer +and nearer--how can _you_ meet them, Lily? What weapons have you at +your command to save yourself from the peril? Simplicity, innocence, +self-sacrifice! Relying only on these and on yourself, the storm +breaks, and then----" + +He paused, and Lily did not speak. How precious his words were to her! +How skilfully and delicately he had contrived to tell her that her +happiness was dear to him! His voice was like music to her heart. + +"Then, Lily," he resumed, "think what occurs. It may be that I am +wrong in my fears. How happy it would make me to know that it is so! +But if I am right, think what may occur. You may bring misery not only +to yourself but to others. You are moved by this thought, I see. Has +it never occurred to you before? You have at home two whom you +love--your brother and your grandfather. There is no need for me to +say how dearly your grandfather loves you, and what anguish you may +bring upon him if you allow suffering to come on yourself unprepared. +In both your brother and your grandfather you should confide, and +from your grandfather's larger experience of the world, and from his +whole-hearted love for his dear child, good counsel would surely come, +if counsel be needed. I should say, if I were asked, that were I in +your place and needed counsel, I should deem it a matter of duty, as +it is equally a matter of affection, to seek for it in one whose riper +years qualify him for giving it, and whose life of love for his child +is a sufficient warrant for his sincerity. I should say more than +this, Lily, if you would allow me, and if you are not displeased with +me----" + +"Go on, Felix. I honour you for what you are saying." + +"I should say, were I in your place and in such a position as I have +hinted at, that I should fail in my duty and my love if I neglected +to take him into my confidence, and that, in that case, doubts might +well arise in his mind----" + +"Of my love for him, Felix?" interrupted Lily, with all the +earnestness of her nature. "No, no; do not say that!" + +"I might have been harsh enough to use these very words, if I did not +know that good old man's heart. Cling to him and to his love, dear +Lily; do not throw him aside in your trouble. It is the dearest +privilege of affection to share the troubles of those we love. If I +were married"--his voice trembled slightly here--"the first consoling +thought that would arise to my mind should misfortune overtake me +would be, 'Thank God, I have one at home who will sympathise with me +and, by her sympathy, console me!'" + +Had Felix been the most cunning of men, and had he carefully studied +every word he wished to say, he could not have made a more successful +appeal. Such strength is there in sincerity and honesty of purpose! If +anything had been wanting to make him inexpressibly dear to the girl +he loved so loyally, to make her cherish him (as she did) in her heart +of hearts, he had supplied it. But he had no thought of that; he had +spoken out of perfect singleness of motive. + +"So, now," he said, in a lighter tone, "my lecture being over, and +knowing, as I know, that you are not hurt or offended with me for +speaking as I have done, we will go in to your grandfather. I look +upon myself as a very conspirator--pretending to be anxious that you +should be at home, and keeping you in the night air for my own selfish +purpose!" + +He raised his hand to the bell, and Lily caught it and kissed +it. She felt no shame in the action, no more than a little child might +have done; but the soft touch of her lips thrilled through Felix, and +so powerful a happiness filled his heart, as he thought of what might +be in the future for him and for her, that a mist floated before his +eyes, The next moment he raised her hand to his lips, and returned the +homage with the respect and devotion of a true and faithful knight. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXV. + + MR. PODMORE WISHES TO BE INSTRUCTED UPON THE DOCTRINE OF + RESPONSIBILITY, AND DECLARES THAT HE HAS A PRESENTIMENT. + + +Eventful as this night had been to Lily, and destined as it was to +live for ever in her memory, it was pregnant with yet deeper meaning +for her future, and an event was to occur which was to draw closer +together the links of the chain of pure and unworthy love which bound +her. On this night she saw clearly what before had been but dimly +presentable to her. She saw that Felix loved her; and also that Mr. +Sheldrake had a passion for her. She was instinctively conscious that +there was nothing in common in the sentiments of these two men. Their +feelings for her were as wide apart as were their characters; and she +had already estimated these correctly, although she did not realize +the depth of baseness from which Mr. Sheldrake's passion sprung. She +was too pure and innocent for that. + +When the party left for the theatre, Old Wheels found the time pass +slowly enough, and for the purpose of whiling away a few minutes, he +went up to Gribble junior's room, and found that worthy man and his +wife working cheerfully as usual. Gribble junior's father, the victim +of co-operative stores, was sitting in a corner nursing the baby, and +had as usual been descanting upon the evils of co-operation, when Old +Wheels entered. Mr. and Mrs. Gribble junior were laughing heartily at +something their father had just uttered. + +"What do you think we're laughing at, Mr. Wheels?" asked Gribble +junior, as the old man sat down. + +Old Wheels expressed a desire to be enlightened. + +"Father just said, that he supposed they would be trying next to bring +babies into the world by co-operation." + +At which, of course, the laughter recommenced. + +"Why not?" grumbled Gribble senior. "You can buy pap at the stores, +and you can buy coffins. Mind, John, when I'm dead, get my coffin made +by an honest tradesman. If you was to buy one at a co-operative +stores, I shouldn't rest in my grave." + +"Time enough for that, father," replied Gribble junior, in a +business-like tone, and yet with affection; "you're good for twenty +years yet, I hope and trust." + +"I should be, John, if trade was allowed to go on in a proper way. But +co-operation'll be the death of me long before my proper time." + +"My girl's gone to the theatre," observed Old Wheels, to change the +subject. + +"It'll do her good," paid Mrs. Gribble; "she's been looking pale of +late." + +"I'm going to take father to the Music Hall to-night," said Gribble +junior. "He's never been to one. You see, Mr. Wheels, what I complain +of in father is, that he won't keep moving." + +"It's too late, John; it's too late. My joints are stiff." + +"Perhaps so, but there's no occasion to make 'em stiffer. All work +and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Go in for everything, I say--go in +for work, and go in for play; and keep moving. How do you think baby's +looking, Mr. Wheels?" + +Old Wheels pinched the baby's cheek, and said gaily that the +co-operative store couldn't turn out a baby like that. + +"Do you hear that, father?" cried Mrs. Gribble junior, with a merry +laugh. "Do you hear that?" + +"Mr. Wheels is quite right," replied Gribble senior, faithful to his +theories; "it ain't likely that anything good and wholesome can come +out of co-operation." + +"How's trade, Mr. Gribble?" + +"Well, it's no use grumbling, but it ain't as good as it should be. I +had an idea yesterday, though. It was raining, you know, and I had no +jobs on hand. The hospital ain't as full as it ought to be. I went out +in the rain yesterday with three new umbrellas under my arms, and one +over my head. What for, now? you'll ask. To sell 'em? no; people never +buy umbrellas in rainy weather of their own accord; they always wait +for a fine day. No; I had an idea, and I carried it out in this way. I +saw a respectable man, with an umbrella over his head that wanted +mending. I followed him home, and just as he knocked at his door, I +went up to him, and said I was an umbrella-maker, and would like the +job of mending his umbrella. 'But I've only got this one,' he said, +'and I want to go out again.' 'I'm prepared for that, sir,' I said; +'here's my card; and here's a new umbrella as good as yours. I'll +leave this with you to use till I bring back your own, properly +mended.' He was tickled at the idea, and was more tickled when I told +him that, trade being slack, I had come out on purpose to look for +umbrellas that wanted mending. 'You're an industrious fellow,' he +said, with a laugh. 'Yes, sir,' I answered, 'if work won't come to +you, you must go to work. Keep moving, that's my motto. If you can't +get work, make it.' Well, he gave me his second-hand umbrella, and +took my new one. In this way, in less than three hours, I got rid of +my four new umbrellas, and got four jobs. I took them back this +afternoon, and--would you believe it, Mr. Wheels?--not only did I get +paid well for the jobs, but two of the gentlemen bought two of my new +umbrellas, and said I deserved to be encouraged. And I think I do," +added Gribble junior complacently. "I made a good job of that idea, +and I daresay it'll bring me in some money. You see, an umbrella is +such an awkward thing to get mended, when it's out of order. Not one +person out of twenty knows where to take it to. Well, go to them. I +hope it'll rain to-morrow." + +When Old Wheels was in his room again, it was natural that his +thoughts should dwell much on the conversation that had taken place +between himself and Lily. It brought the past before him, and he was +painfully startled by the resemblance which the present crisis in the +life of his darling bore to that other event in the life of her mother +which had wrecked the happiness of that unhappy woman, He opened the +cupboard, and saw the little iron box. Very sad were the thoughts it +suggested as he brought it to the table and opened it. There was a +little money in it, sufficient for a few weeks' expenses of their +humble home; two or three mementoes of Lily, such as a piece of ribbon +and a flower she had worn in her hair; and some old letters and papers +worn and faded. He took them from the box, and sadly read one and +another. Among them were letters from Lily's father to her mother +during their days of courtship; and certain terms of expression in +them brought to him the remembrance of sentiments almost similarly +expressed by Alfred. The same vague declarations of being able to make +large sums of money by unexplained means; the same selfishness, the +same boastfulness, were there embodied. But not the same remorse which +Alfred had already experienced; that was to come afterwards, and the +despair which ever accompanies it. "We were happy then, my daughter +and I," the old man murmured; "happy before he came. My daughter's +life might not have ended as it did, in misery; might not have been +passed, as it was, in miserable repinings. He brought a blight upon +us." And then came the thought, "Like father, like son." He paced the +room with disturbed steps. "Alfred's father," he thought, "wrecked +the happiness of the woman who loved him, who trusted implicitly in +him--wrecked the happiness of my daughter, who was once as bright as +my darling Lily. And how she changed under the consequence of his vice +and his folly! How she drooped, and drooped, until life became +torture! As she trusted him and believed in him, and sacrificed +herself for him, so Lily trusts and believes and is ready to sacrifice +herself for Alfred. Shall I allow her to do this blindly? The end +would not be the same, for Lily could not live through it. How can I +save my darling? Would it not be better to inflict a sharp pain upon +her now, than to see her walk blindly, confidingly, lovingly, to +a desolate future?" At this point of his musings he heard the +street-door open and shut, and heard a stumbling step in the passage +below. Looking over the papers in the iron box, he came upon two which +he opened and read. They were the last two documents connected with +the career of Lily's father. One was a full quittance for a sum of +money which the unhappy man had embezzled; the wording of the other +was as follows: + + +"In consideration of my father-in-law paying the money due to Mr. +James Creamwell, which I have wrongfully used, I solemnly promise not +to trouble my wife with my presence as long as I live, and not to make +myself known to my children in the future, should we meet by any +chance. For the wrong that I have done, I humbly ask their +forgiveness. + + "RICHARD MANNING." + + +"He has kept his word," mused Old Wheels; "from that time I have never +seen him, never heard of him. No one but I has ever read this paper, +unless Alfred, when he took the money from this box---- But no; he +could have had no thought for anything but his unhappy purpose." + +Old Wheels was interrupted in his musings by the whining of a dog at +the door. "That's Snap's voice," he said, and going to the door, he +saw the faithful dog waiting for him. Snap, directly he saw the old +man, looked in his face appealingly, and walked towards the stairs. +Old Wheels, taking the candle, followed the dog down-stairs, and found +Jim Podmore asleep at the bottom. Snap, having fulfilled his mission, +waited patiently for the old man to act. + +"Come, Mr. Podmore," said Old Wheels, gently shaking the sleeping man; +"you mustn't sleep here. Come up-stairs, and get to bed." + +The tired man murmured "All right," and settled himself comfortably to +continue his nap. But Old Wheels shook him more roughly, and he rose +to his feet wearily, and leaning against the wall, seemed disposed to +fall asleep again in that position. + +"Come, pull yourself together," urged Old Wheels, taking Jim Podmore's +arm; "you'll be more comfortable in your own room than here." + +Thus advised, and being well shaken, Jim "pulled himself together," +and with many incoherent apologies, accompanied Old Wheels up-stairs. +When he arrived at the first landing, he appeared to think he had gone +far enough, and quite naturally he stumbled into the old man's room, +and fell into a chair. + +"I'm not going to allow you to fall asleep again," persisted Old +Wheels. "Bed's the proper place for you." + +"I should like," murmured Jim, "to go to bed--and sleep--for a month." + +Old Wheels laughed slightly at this. + +"You wouldn't expect to wake up at the end of the time," he said, +continuing to shake Jim Podmore. + +"I don't know--I don't care--I'd like to go to bed--and sleep--for a +year. All right, Mr. Wheels--don't shake me--any more!--I'm +awake--that is, as awake--as I shall be--till to-morrow morning. I beg +you--a thousand pardons--for troubling you. I suppose--you found me +asleep--somewhere. Where?" + +"On the stairs." + +"Ah--yes. I thought--I should ha' fell down in the streets--as I +walked along. I was so--dead-beat. I'm glad--_you_ woke me up--for I +wanted--to ask you something." + +Old Wheels thought it best not to interrupt the current of Jim's +thoughts, and therefore did not speak. Jim shook himself much as a dog +does when he comes out of the water, and having, it is to be presumed, +by that action, aroused his mental faculties, proceeded. + +"We've had a talk--to-day--me and some mates--and I made up my +mind--that I'd speak--to some one--as might know--better than us. I +meant you." + +"Yes--what were you speaking about?" + +"Well, you see--it come in this way. I never told you--about Dick +Hart--did I?" + +"No--not that I remember," replied Old Wheels. + +"He was a man o' our'n--Dick Hart was. As good a fellow--as ever +drawed--God's breath. He was working--on our line--a many months ago. +He ain't working there now--not him--ain't working anywhere--can't get +it. Willing enough--Dick Hart is--and a-breaking his heart--because he +can't get it. He's a doomed man--Mr. Wheels--a doomed man!--and might +as well--be dead--as alive. Better--a dooced sight better--if it +warn't for his wife--and kids." + +Jim Podmore was evidently warming up. His theme was powerful enough to +master his fatigue. Old Wheels listened attentively. + +"It might have happened--to me--it _might_ happen--to me--any +night--when I'm dead-beat. What then?" he asked excitedly, to the no +small surprise of Snap, to whom this episode was so strange that +he stood aside, gazing gravely at his master. "What then?" Jim +repeated. "Why, I should be--what Dick Hart is--a-wandering about--in +rags--a-starving almost. I should be worse than him--for when I +think--of the old woman up-stairs--asleep--and my little Polly--that +is my star--my star, Polly is!--and think of them--with nothing to +eat--like Dick Hart's old woman and kids--I shouldn't be able--to +keep my hands--to myself. And I shouldn't try to--I'm damned if I +should!" + +Old Wheels laid his hand with a soothing motion on the excited man's +shoulder. + +"Be cool, Mr. Podmore," he said. "Tell me calmly what you want. You +are wandering from the subject." + +"No, I ain't," responded Jim Podmore doggedly. "I'm sticking to it. +And it ain't likely--begging your pardon--for being so rough--that I +_can_ be calm--when I've got what I have got--in my mind." + +"What's that?" + +Jim Podmore looked with apprehension at Old Wheels, and then turned +away his eyes uneasily. + +"Never mind that--it's _my_ trouble--and mustn't be spoken of. Let's +talk of Dick Hart." + +"You were about," said Old Wheels gently, "to tell me some story +connected with him." + +"He was as good a fellow--as ever drawed breath--and had been in the +Company's service--ever so many years. There was nothing agin him. +He did his work--and drawed his screw. Little enough! He got +overworked--often--as a good many of us gets--a-many times too +often--once too often for poor Dick--as I'm going to tell you, short. +It must ha' been--eight months ago--full--when Dick Hart--worked off +his legs--with long hours--and little rest--had a accident. He took a +oath afterwards--that he was that dead-beat--before the accident--that +he felt fit to drop down dead with fatigue. He couldn't keep--his eyes +open--as I can't sometimes--and when the accident--takes place--he +goes almost mad. But that doesn't alter it. The accident's done--and +Dick Hart's made accountable. He's took up--and tried--and gets six +months. If what he did--had ha' been his fault--he ought to have +been--hung--but they didn't seem--quite to know--whether he was to +blame--or whether--he wasn't--so they give him six months--to +make things even, I suppose. While Dick's in prison--his wife's +confined--with her second--and how they lived--while he's away from +'em--God knows! Some of us gives a little--now and then. I give +twice--but what Dick's wife got--in that way was--next to nothing--as +much as we--could afford. Dick Hart--comes out of prison--a little +while ago--and tries to get work--and can't. He gets a odd job--now +and then--by telling lies about himself--and his old woman--gets a +little charing--but they've not been able--to keep the wolf--from the +door. It's got right in--and they are--pretty-nigh starving--him and +the old woman--and the kids." + +Jim Podmore's drowsiness coming upon him powerfully here, he had as +much as he could do to keep himself awake. He indulged himself with a +few drowsy nods, and then proceeded as though there had been no +interval of silence. + +"Well, we had a talk about him--to-day, me and my mates. We made up--a +little money--about six shillings--and sent it to his old woman. But +we can't go on--doing this--and one of the men said--that if it comes +to the officers' ears--or the directors'--that we'd been making up +money--for a man as has been discharged--and's been in prison--and's +cost the Company a lot o' money in damages--(for they had to pay two +men--who was able--to afford a lawyer; there was others--as was +poor--who couldn't afford a lawyer, consequently--they got +nothing)--that if it come--to the directors' ears--we should +likely--get into trouble ourselves." + +Having come to the end of Dick Hart's story, Jim Podmore dozed off +again, and would have fallen into deep sleep but for Old Wheels +nudging him briskly. + +"Well?" asked the old man. + +"Ah, yes," said Jim; "I was almost forgetting. What I want to know +is--is Dick Hart responsible--for what he's done? Is it right--that a +respectable man--a hardworking man--a honest man--should be +compelled--to work until he's lost--all control over himself--till +he's ready to drop--as I've told you before--and as I've been ready to +myself--and that then--when a accident happens--which wouldn't have +happened--if he'd been fresh--or if a fresh man had been--in his place +is it right, I want to know," and Jim Podmore raised his arm slowly +and lowered it, and raised it again and lowered it again, as if it +were a piston, "that that man--should be put--in prison--should be +disgraced--should lose his honest name--shouldn't be able to get +work--for his old woman--and the young uns--and that they should be +almost starving--as Dick Hart's people's doing now?" + +Fortunately for Old Wheels, who would have found these questions very +difficult to answer, Jim Podmore was too tired and too sleepy to wait +for a reply. + +"If I don't go upstairs--immediate," he said, rising slowly to his +feet, "you'll have--to carry me. So I'll wish you--good-night, Mr. +Wheels, and thank you." + +He paused at the door for the purpose of asking one other question. + +"Did you ever feel--that something was going to happen--without +exactly knowing what it was?" + +"Yes," replied Old Wheels good-humouredly, "but it never did happen." + +"Ah," pondered the puzzled man, "but this will, though." + +"What will?" + +"Didn't I tell you--I didn't know what? But it'll happen--as sure as +my name's--Jim Podmore. It's buzzing about my head now,--and I can't +make it out." + +"Nervousness," suggested Old Wheels, "brought on by overwork." + +"Mayhap, but there it is. What would you call it, now? Give it a +name." + +"It is a presentiment, I should say." + +"That's it. I've got--a presentiment. Thank you. Good-night, Mr. +Wheels. I've got--a presentiment--and it'll come true--as sure as my +name's--Jim." + +With that Jim Podmore staggered upstairs, with faithful Snap at his +heels, and within an hour Old Wheels heard the street-door bell ring, +and hurried downstairs. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVI. + + HOW FELIX GAINED A CLUB. + + +Felix intended to leave Lily after he had seen her safely within +doors, but the old man begged him to come in. A look from Lily decided +him, and the three faithful souls ascended the stairs to the old man's +room. Old Wheels entering first, gave Lily an opportunity to say +hurriedly to Felix, + +"Don't tell grandfather of my fainting, Felix. It might distress him." + +He promised her. + +"Nor about Mr. Sheldrake." + +"Very well, Lily." + +She spoke in a whisper; she was so thrilling with exquisite +sensitiveness that any harsher sound would have been a disturbance to +her happy state. + +"I will think of what you have said to-night, Felix; you are right, I +know--you _must_ be right." (The unspoken words came to her: "My heart +tells me so.") "Thank you for it, Felix, with all my heart." + +Their hands met in a tender clasp. They entered the room the next +moment, and Old Wheels looked towards them with a pleased expression +in his face, brought there by the circumstance of Lily and Felix +lingering for a few moments in the passage. It betokened a confidence +between them. + +It was one o'clock before Felix took his departure. The conversation +between him and Old Wheels had turned principally upon the mental +disturbance of Mr. Podmore, and upon his presentiment. This made a +great impression upon Felix, and, although he was almost ashamed to +confess it to himself, took fast hold of his mind. He was predisposed +for some such influence, from the thought of the crisis that seemed to +be imminent in the life of the woman he loved. That it must come, and +soon, he was convinced, and he thought to himself it would be almost a +wise act to hasten it, if possible. He had quietly made it his +business to acquaint himself with the nature of Mr. Sheldrake's +transactions; and, notwithstanding that that gentleman was close and +crafty, Felix had learned much concerning him. The knowledge sprang +naturally, as it were, out of Felix's profession. He was correspondent +for two country newspapers, and had managed to insert the thin end of +his wedge into the wall of London journalism. He was working his way, +steadily and unobtrusively, and he was sanguine and confident of the +future. Very many people suppose that cunning is one of the principal +specialties of wisdom, but it is not always so. A rare strength, which +shows itself almost invariably with great and good results, lies in +the man who is wise and not cunning--who is wise from honesty of +purpose. Felix was this. He was sincere in all he did--honest in all +he did. It is a pleasure to be able to indicate, even by such mere +outlines as these, a character which too many persons do not believe +in. + +Beginning to earn his living by his pen, and being enabled to act in a +certain measure independently, and to take his own view of things, it +was natural that he should exercise his small power in the cause of +right. It was not his ambition to be the Don Quixote of literature, +but he could no more resist the inclination to strike hard blows at +public shams and injustice than, being naturally truthful, he could +resist the inclination to tell the truth. Of course he could effect +but little good, The great shield behind which imposture and knavery +found shelter, and which protected dishonesty and hypocrisy, suffered +but little from his attacks; but here and there he made a dent, and +that was a great satisfaction to him. He was a faithful soldier, and +fought with courage. + +He knew that in some way Lily's brother was in Mr. Sheldrake's power, +and accident revealed to him the nature of the bond between them. In +his crusade against knavery, he became acquainted with the unmitigated +roguery that was practised under the protection of the institution +which, with a grim and ghastly humour, has been denominated the great +national sport. His friend Charley, who introduced him to the +columns of the _Penny Whistle_, was the first who opened his eyes to +the knavery. It seems to be a recognised necessity that all young men +who have the means and the leisure should go through the formula known +as "seeing life"--a process which to some is a sad tragedy, and which +to nearly all is a bitter experience. Very few come out of that fire +unscathed. Charley had gone through this formula--fortunately for him, +in a superficial way. Charley's parents were good people enough, and +had tacitly agreed that their son must "see life" before he settled; +everybody's sons saw life before settling, and Charley must not be an +exception. So the young fellow went into the world, and in the natural +course of things became mixed up in matters, the mere mention of which +would have brought a blush to his mother's cheek. But Charley was +doing the proper thing: there was no doubt of that. However, the young +fellow's inclinations were not inherently vicious, and he escaped the +pitfalls in which so many weak and unfortunate ones are ingulfed. He +and Felix had met some few times since Felix's installation as London +correspondent to the _Penny Whistle_, and they had opened their hearts +to each other. Thus it came out that Charley told Felix of his +introduction to the racing world, and of his adventures therein. + +"You see, Felix," he said, "I had outrun my allowance, and I thought I +might be able to set things straight, and pay my few small debts, +without coming on my father's purse. So, led away by the flaming +accounts in the newspapers, I went into betting; was introduced by a +friend to club where I could bet, and for three months went regularly +to races. It didn't turn out well, and after dropping nearly two +hundred pounds, I went to my father, and made a clean breast of it. He +paid my debts, and made me promise to give up the infatuation, as he +called it. I promised willingly enough, for I had made up my mind +before, and I am sure I shall never be drawn into the net again. The +fact is, Felix, it didn't suit me: the men I met on the race-courses +were such cads and blackguards that I soon became disgusted with +myself for mixing with them. I tell you what it is, old fellow. I +think being with you a great deal has done me good, and I have learnt +from you to hate things that are mean. You've been to races, of +course?" + +"I've been to Goodwood, and Ascot, and to the Derby. The Derby is a +wonderful sight. I should like to go with you to one or two of the +small meetings." + +They went in company, and Felix, having a deeper purpose in his mind +than idle amusement, saw much to astonish him. As they were making +their way through a crowd of sharks and gulls, Charley pulled his +sleeve, and said, + +"There! There's a man who had over a hundred pounds of my money." + +Turning, Felix saw Mr. David Sheldrake, evidently very much at home. +Felix, not wishing to be seen by Mr. Sheldrake, walked away, and +watched him from a distance. + +"Is he a betting-man?" asked Felix. + +"O, yes; and as sharp as a needle." + +"Does he attend these meetings regularly?" + +"You seem to be interested in him, Felix." + +"Yes, I know him." + +"And don't like him, evidently," observed Charley, judging from his +friend's tone. + +"That is true; I don't like him. But you haven't answered my +question." + +"I have met him on nearly every race-course I have been to; he is +always to be seen in the 'ring,' I should say." + +Felix did not pursue the subject, but later in the day said, + +"Have you any documents, Charley, connected with your betting +experiences, or have you destroyed them?" + +"I have them all. By-the-bye, they might be useful to you; there are +some strange things among them--well, perhaps not strange in +themselves, but strange that such things should be allowed. It would +be a good subject for you to take up." + +"Any letters from that man?" + +"O, yes; suppose I send you the packet?" + +"I should like to see them." + +They were received in due course by Felix, and they so interested him +that he began from that time to subscribe to the sporting papers, and +to make a regular study of the usually unprofitable theme. Any person +who did not know Felix's character might reasonably have supposed that +he had been bitten by the mania, and that he was beginning to +entertain the idea that he might make a fortune by betting with +sharps. They would have had ample grounds for so supposing, if they +had known that Felix actually sent small sums in stamps to the +prophets and tipsters and the layers of odds who advertised in the +sporting papers, for the purpose of obtaining the information +necessary for the rapid and certain realisation of "fabulous sums"--a +phrase which many of the advertisers used in the traps they set, +unconscious of the ironical truth it contained. But what Felix was +doing was a means to another end, and he lost his money cheerfully. He +began to frequent race-courses also, and on one occasion, early in his +experience, he saw Lily's brother, as he expected to see him, running +hither and thither in a state of blind excitement. With a set +determination, Felix watched the young man during the whole of the +day, saw the fatal infatuation which urged him onwards, and saw him +pass through the various stages of hope, suspense, and agony. Felix +saw more with the eyes of his mind; he saw ruin waiting at Alfred's +heels. Felix had met with an old legend which stated how every human +being was attended by two angels, one bad, one good, and how they +strove for mastery over the soul they attended. As the recollection of +this legend came to him, Felix looked up and saw Alfred's bad angel, +Mr. David Sheldrake, talking to Alfred, and Alfred eagerly listening. +It saddened Felix to see this, although he fully expected it, and was +prepared for it. "Alfred's good angel," he thought, "is love. But love +has no sword to strike this false friend dead." But Felix went home +that evening with a clue in his hand. + +On this night, as Felix walked away from Lily's house, he thought of +these things, and was too disturbed to go home. He walked about the +quiet streets, and at the end of an hour found himself on the Thames +Embankment. As he stood there, musing, gazing into the solemn river, +he became conscious of a sudden tremor in the air. He looked around +with a feeling of vague alarm upon him, but he saw nothing, heard +nothing. "Pshaw!" he muttered. "Mr. Podmore's presentiment is +frightening me with shadows. I'll stroll past Lily's house, and then +go home to bed." + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVII. + + JIM PODMORE HAS A DREAM, AND WAKES UP IN TIME. + + +Jim Podmore, staggering into the one room which formed his +Englishman's castle, found his wife and Pollypod fast asleep in bed. +Before he went out to his work in the morning, he had told his wife +not to sit up for him that night. "You've had precious hard work of +it, old woman," he had said, "this last week; so go to bed early and +have a long night's rest. I'll find my way up-stairs all right." The +precious hard work which Jim Podmore referred to was one of those +tasks which poor people--especially women--take upon themselves when +occasion requires, with a readiness and cheerfulness which it is +beautiful to see. A neighbour's child had been ill, and required +constant watching. The mother, worn out with her labour of love, had +fallen ill herself. And Mrs. Podmore flew to her aid, and attended +to her household duties, and nursed her and the child through their +sickness. The cheerfulness with which Mrs. Podmore undertook this task +and performed it, as if it were a duty incumbent upon her, cannot be +described. The best reward she could receive was hers: the mother and +child recovered their health, and were strong enough to attend to +themselves. Late in the previous night the doctor had released Mrs. +Podmore, and told her--with smiles and good words and with a +hand-shake which gratified the simple woman mightily--that now she had +best go home and take care of herself; "for we can get about ourselves +now," he said, "and sha'n't want you any more." This accounted for Jim +Podmore having to find his way up-stairs by himself, for Mrs. Podmore +seldom went to bed before he returned home. He knew, on this night, +that his wife was asleep, and in the midst of his drowsiness he took +off his boots in the passage, so that he should not disturb her. + +Entering the room in his stockinged feet, he stepped softly to the +bedside, and rested his hand lightly and tenderly on Pollypod's neck. +The bed being against the wall, and Pollypod sleeping inside, he could +not kiss her without disturbing his wife. The child slept peacefully, +and Jim Podmore gazed lovingly at the pretty picture, and leaned +forward to feel the sweet breath, pure as an angel's whisper, that +came from her parted lips. His supper was laid for him on the table, +and he sat down to it, Snap standing at his feet in patient eagerness +waiting for such scraps and morsels as he thought fit to give. Jim did +not forget his dog; Snap fared well, and when supper was finished the +dog stretched himself on the ground, and with half-closed eyes watched +his master's face. Snap blinked and blinked, but although occasionally +his eyes were so nearly closed that only the thinnest line of light +could be seen, the dog never relaxed his watchful gaze. Jim sat in his +chair, pipe in mouth, and smoked and dozed, and thought of Dick Hart +and his wife and children, and of his own wife and Pollypod, till they +all became mixed up together in the strangest way, and in the +phantasmagoria of his fancy changed places and merged one into the +other in utter defiance of all probability. Thus, as he leaned forward +to catch the sweet breath that came from Pollypod's lips, the child's +face became blurred and indistinct, and in her place Dick Hart +appeared, crouching upon the rail way platform in an agony of despair. +The platform itself appeared, with its throng of anxious faces, with +its sound of hurried feet and cries of pain, with a light in the air +that belonged to neither night nor day, sensitive with a tremor which +was felt, but could not be seen or described, and which spoke of hopes +for ever crushed out, and of lives of fair promise blighted by the act +that lay in one fatal moment's neglect or helplessness. "If I don't go +to bed," murmured Jim with a start, whereat all these things vanished +into nothingness, "I shall fall asleep." And still he sat, and +murmured, "Poor Dick!" + + +It was really but the work of a moment. Jim Podmore being on duty, +suddenly felt a shock--then heard a crash, followed by screams and +shouts, and what seemed to be the muffled sound of a myriad of voices. +He knew that an accident had occurred, and he ran forward, and saw +carriages overturned on the line, and huge splinters of wood lying +about. "Who did it?" he cried. "Dick Hart!" a voice replied; and then +he heard Dick's voice crying, "O, my God!" The busy hands were at work +clearing the wreck, and the few passengers--happily there were but +few--were assisted out. Most of them had escaped with a bruise or a +scratch, but one man, they said, looked in a bad state, and at his own +entreaty they allowed him to lie still upon the platform until +doctors, who had been promptly sent for, had arrived; and one little +child was taken into a room, and lay like dead. Jim Podmore was in the +room, and he saw Dick Hart brought in between two men. Dick, when his +eyes lighted on the piteous sight of the little girl lying like that, +trembled as if ague had seized him, and began to sob and cry. "_I_ did +it! _I_ did it!" he gasped. "Why don't some one strike me down dead?" +As he uttered these words, and as he stood there, with a face whiter +than the face of the child who lay before him, a woman rushed in and +cried in a wild tone, "Where's the man that killed my child?" Upon +this, with a cry wilder than that to which the poor woman had given +vent, Dick Hart wrested himself free from the men, whose hands (in +their grief at what had occurred) were only lightly laid upon him, and +rushed out of the room like a madman. The men followed him, but he was +too quick for them, and before they could lay hands on him again, he +had jumped from the platform on to the line, dashing aside the persons +who tried to stop him. His mad idea was to run forward on the line +until he saw a train coming, and then to throw himself before it and +be crushed to pieces. But he was saved from the execution of this +piteous design; the men reached him and seized him, and carried him +back by main force. When he was in the room again, his passion being +spent, he fell upon his knees, and looked round with a scared white +face, waiting for what was to come. "Poor Dick!" murmured Jim Podmore. +And then the men whispered to each other how Dick Hart had been worked +off his legs lately; how the accident was nothing more than was to be +expected; and how Dick's wife was near her confinement with her +second. "Poor Dick!" murmured Jim Podmore again, for the thought of +Dick Hart's one little girl at home, and the other child that was soon +expected, brought Pollypod to his mind. + +It was too true; Dick Hart's wife was very near her confinement, and +on this very night, unconscious of the dreadful event that had taken +place, she was busy getting together the little things she had made +for her first-born, and recalling the feelings she had experienced +before she became a mother--feelings in which joy and pride were so +commingled as to be inseparable. The time was night, in the wane of +summer, and many a smile came upon the woman's lips, and many a tender +thought dwelt in her mind, as she laid out the little garments and +examined them to see where they wanted a stitch. Mrs. Hart had been +married five years; and while she was employed in the manner just +described, her first child, four years of age, was sitting in a low +chair, playing with a doll, which not only had softening of the brain, +but softening of every portion of its anatomy--for it was a rag doll. + +But the doll, treasure as it was, notwithstanding its flat face (for +rags do not admit of the formation of features of particular shape and +beauty), was not the only object of the child's attention. She had +that day been invested with a pair of new red socks, and Little Vanity +was now holding out her little legs as straight as she could, and +calling her mother's attention for the hundredth time to her flaming +red treasures. Mrs. Hart knelt before the child, and admired the socks +with the most outrageously-exaggerated turns of speech, and pulled +them up tight, to her child's infinite delight and contentment. Then +the mother began to prattle upon the subject nearest to her heart, +and began to speak also, for the hundredth time, about the little +brother--for Mrs. Hart had settled that "her second," as Jim Podmore +had expressed it, was to be a boy--whom Rosy presently would have to +play with. + +"And you'll love him very much, Rosy, won't you?" asked the mother. + +"Yes, very, very much." + +Indeed, Rosy used a great many more "verys" than two, and quite +ingenuously, be it stated. But Rosy had a strong desire to be +enlightened upon a certain point, and she seized the present +favourable opportunity. She had heard a great deal about this little +brother whom she was to love and play with, but she was puzzled to +know where the little stranger was to come from. Now was the time to +obtain the information. + +"Mother," asked the inquisitive little girl, "when will Bunny come?" + +"Bunny," it must be explained, was the fanciful title by which Rosy +had already christened the expected stranger. + +"Next week, Rosy," answered the happy mother; "almost sure next week. +Ain't you glad?" + +"Yes, I'm very, very glad." (Again a redundancy of "verys" which must +be left to the imagination.) "But, mother, who'll bring Bunny here?" + +"Who'll bring him, Rosy? Why the doctor, to be sure." + +Rosy nodded her head wisely, and employed a full minute in the silent +enjoyment of her new red socks. Mrs. Hart was silent also, worshipping +her little girl. If children only knew how their mothers worship them! +Down went Rosy's legs again. + +"Where will the doctor bring Bunny from, mother?" + +"From the parsley-bed," replied the mother, laughing. + +"Is Bunny there now, mother?" + +"Yes, dear." + +"Did _I_ come out of a parsley-bed mother?" + +"Yes, my dear," and Mrs. Hart smothered Rosy's face and neck with +kisses. She was so occupied with her happiness that she did not hear +the door, and did not know that any one was in the room until she +heard a voice calling her name. The voice belonged to a neighbour, +Mrs. Thomson, and Mrs. Hart rose to her feet, and was beginning to +tell merrily of the conversation which she had just had with Rosy, +when something in Mrs. Thomson's face stopped her tongue. + +"What's the matter, Mrs. Thomson? What is it? Tell me, quick!" + +"Now, bear up, Mrs. Hart," said the neighbour; "remember how near your +time is, and bear up, there's a good soul!" + +"What's the matter?" cried Mrs. Hart, thoroughly frightened. "Tell me, +quick, for God's sake! Is it anything about Dick? Has he had an +accident? Is he hurt! O, why don't you speak!" + +"Dick's not hurt." + +"Thank God! But on and off, all this week, I've been frightened about +him. It's a shame and a sin to work a man as he's been worked. Who's +outside?" + +She flew to the door, and pulled into the room a man employed by the +same Company as her husband. + +"There's something the matter," she gasped, and caught Rosy up, and +pressed the child close to her breast. The man judged wisely that it +would be the best to come to the point at once. + +"Dick sent me to you, Mrs. Hart," he said; "he's had an accident, and +one or two people have been hurt; he's all right himself, and he sent +me to tell you so." + +"Why didn't he come himself?" asked the wife, trembling and crying. + +"Well, you see----" began the man; but Mrs. Hart did not allow him to +proceed. + +"They've put him in prison," she said, with a quick short breath; "my +Dick, the best husband and the best father in the world! And they're +going to punish him for what's not his fault Do you know how many +hours' sleep he's had this week?" + +"Don't excite yourself, there's a good soul!" remonstrated Mrs. +Thomson. "He'll come out of it all right. Think of your baby." + +"He's not in prison, Mrs. Hart," said the man; "but he's going to +remain at the station until after the inquiry." + +"Mrs. Thomson, will you take care of Rosy till I come back?" + +"Why, surely, my dear, you're not going out in your condition!" + +"I'm going to my husband," said Mrs. Hart, "and I'm going to see them +managers and directors, and ask them what they're going to do to +Dick." + +With that the distracted woman, putting on her hat and shawl, left +Rosy in her neighbour's charge, and hurried downstairs, followed by +the man, who said it was best to let her have her own way, and that it +was what he would like his wife to do if anything happened to him. + +Jim Podmore was with her during all this time, and witnessed the +interview between husband and wife. + +"I can't tell how it occurred," said Dick Hart, who, although +dreadfully distressed, was now more calm, and inexpressibly comforted +by the presence of his wife. "Everything seemed to take place in a +flash of light, like. I suppose it was because I was tired out with +too much work. I don't care for myself. I'm thinking of the future, +and what's going to become of you and Rosy--and--and the baby." + +Dick broke down a dozen times during the interview, and sobbed and +cried like a child. + +"It'll always be on my mind. I'm glad I didn't kill myself, for your +sake. Perhaps it'd ha' been better for you if I'd been killed, though. +I don't know; I don't know what to think. You'd better take what money +I've got about me. It ain't much; but I daresay they'll pay you for my +work up to to-night." + +Dick was fairly bewildered in this serious crisis, and completely +helpless. If he had had money, he might have sent for a lawyer; but +between eleven and twelve shillings was all his wealth. + +An inquiry and inquest were held, at both of which Jim Podmore was +present. Indeed, he was never absent from Dick Hart and his wife +during all this time, although he took no active part in the history +of their lives. And this is what he saw. + +Dick Hart on his trial for manslaughter, with an array of lawyers +against him sufficient to frighten a poor man out of his senses. The +lawyers for the prosecution were against him, and strove, by all the +ingenuity of long study and sharp experience, to prove him the +guiltiest man that ever stood in a felon's dock. The lawyers of the +Company were against him, and their aim was to prove the perfect +innocence of the powerful directors they represented, and therefore +the utter and inexcusable guilt of Dick Hart. Strong odds these +against a poor man with an empty purse. A strange road to justice +was this on which Dick Hart found himself, unarmed and with bare +breast--and with something of a guilty conscience also, for he really +did not know how far he was to blame--opposed to the keen intellects +of those who were grandly paid to find him guilty. He quivered with +helpless rage, he was racked with despair, as he listened to the +manner in which the case was stated by his enemies: they were nothing +less; they were there to destroy him. But there was a grain of salt +for him in the midst of all this great trouble. A young lawyer, not +overburdened with briefs, undertook his defence for the love of the +thing, and pleaded so ably that he very nearly succeeded in proving +Dick Hart innocent--as undoubtedly he was. Unfortunately, he could not +prove that Dick Hart was not immediately responsible for the accident; +but he did prove that the man, by excessive overwork, was so prostrate +from fatigue, that it would have been almost next to a miracle had an +accident not occurred. "Perhaps," said this daring champion, to the +admiration of Jim Podmore, who nodded his head in confirmation and +approbation at every thrust the lawyer made--"perhaps you will say +that the prisoner was wrong in allowing himself to be so overtasked; +but he has a wife and child dependent on him for support, and his wife +is now at home, expecting every hour to saddle him with another +responsibility. The prisoner is a hardworking man, and a poor man, and +had he refused to perform the duties required of him, never mind at +what sacrifice to himself, never mind at what peril to the public--as +has been too often unhappily proved in other cases--he would have +stood a fair chance of being dismissed from the service of the +Company. If this case serves in any way to direct public attention to +the manner in which too many servants of the railway companies are +overworked, it will be fortunate that it is tried; but the prisoner +must not be made the victim of a bad and abominable system. Not many +days ago the coroner of Middlesex, at an inquest held upon the body of +an engine-fitter, who was crushed to death between two engines, stated +that no fewer than thirty railway servants are killed in his district +every year; and he very pertinently wished to know whether such +wholesale slaughter was altogether necessary. This is not the question +for you to answer now, but it may lead you to a merciful view of the +prisoner's case; for the perils of the service are sufficiently great +in themselves, and should not be made greater by unfairly tasking the +powers of the men. There are in the full week of seven days one +hundred and sixty-eight hours; and there are hundreds of railway +servants who can show a time-bill of one hundred and twelve hours. Add +to these hours the time employed in going and coming from work, and +you will have some idea of the manner in which these men are +overworked. I read lately in a leading article upon this subject in a +paper whose facts may be relied upon, that some men have worked +thirty, some forty hours right off, without any sleep but that which +nature has exacted at the post of duty, at the peril of those +intrusted to their charge. It is the public who suffer; and when +an accident occurs in consequence of a man being unfairly worked, +he--being a man, and not a machine--cannot in justice be held +responsible. At a meeting lately held in Brighton, one railway servant +stated that he sometimes worked thirty-seven hours at a stretch." The +lawyer cited many such facts as these, and even had the hardihood to +assert that a director or a manager should be standing in the dock in +Dick Hart's place. However, it seemed to be understood that it was +impossible to let Dick Hart off scot-free, and being found guilty and +strongly recommended to mercy, he was sentenced to six months' +imprisonment, a sentence which was virtually a parody upon justice; +for if Dick Hart were guilty he should have been hanged, and if he +were innocent he should have been compensated for the torture he had +been made to suffer. An hour after the trial Jim Podmore was telling +Dick Hart that his wife was confined. + +It was a mystery to Jim how Dick's wife and children managed to live +during that time, but manage they did, somehow. Neighbours were as +kind to them as their own narrow means would allow: Rosy had many a +good meal in one house and another; when Mrs. Hart grew strong, she +went out charing; sometimes when she could not get work she +begged--and dodged the policeman. It is amazing to what shifts some +honest unfortunate folk are compelled to resort in the necessity that +nature lays upon them to eat or die: which last is not an easy thing +to do. Dick came out of prison and tried to get work, and failed. He +was compelled also to resort to such dishonest shifts as adopting a +name that did not belong to him, as denying this and that unworthy +thing, as putting a cheerful face upon an empty stomach. He obtained +work on another line of railway, and was turned away at the end of the +fourth day, having been _found out_, a crime which is invariably +severely punished, and which the world never forgives. Dick Hart +really found existence a very difficult thing; and yet he had muscles, +and was willing to exercise them. + +The struggle was too hard for him, and he fell sick, and could not go +out of his room for weeks. His wife nursed him and worked for him, +after a fashion. When she could not get charing to do, she went +a-begging. Rosy was sent to a school where the children occasionally +enjoyed the blessing of penny dinners. On those occasions Rosy was +always duly armed with a penny by her mother. One day a policeman +arrested Mrs. Hart for begging, and she was brought before the +magistrate. Money was found upon her--one shilling and sevenpence--and +eight boxes of fusees. The policeman, in his evidence, fairly stated +that he had made inquiry at the address Mrs. Hart gave, and found that +she lived in a respectable house, that Dick Hart was sick and unable +to move out of his room, that he had never been known to be drunk, and +that neighbours sincerely pitied him and spoke well of him; also that +the mistress of the school to which Rosy went gave the child and her +mother an excellent character. Asked what she had to say for herself, +Mrs. Hart told the truth: she went out to get bread for her husband +and children; she asserted that she was compelled to beg. The +magistrate said she should have gone to the parish. Then she told a +piteous story. She _had_ gone to the parish, and the relieving-officer +(a mock title, surely!) refused to give her any out-door relief, but +said she and her family might go into the workhouse, if she chose. She +declined to do this, as in that case her husband would not be able to +get work, and she did not wish to be a burden to the parish. She +begged for a loaf of dry bread for her children; and "dressed in his +little brief authority," the relieving-officer refused. "We have not +broken our fast," she pleaded; and asked what they were to do. "The +best you can," was the merciful reply. She did the best she could: +she went into the streets hungry, and begged; and hurried home with +the first penny she received, and sent Rosy to school, armed for +dinner. Then she continued her begging--with her next proceeds bought +a dozen boxes of fusees--and when she was in a flourishing condition, +with one shilling and sevenpence in her pocket, was arrested for her +monstrous crime. + +It is pleasant to be able to record that the poor woman was acquitted, +and that the magistrate spoke in proper terms of the conduct of the +relieving-officer. It gave Jim Podmore pleasure, but this feeling soon +gave place to pain as he witnessed the downward course of Dick Hart +and his family, and the misery they endured. He was with them in their +poorly-furnished home, and was gazing sadly at their white pinched +faces, when suddenly Rosy's face changed to that of Pollypod his own +darling; in the place of Mrs. Hart he saw his own wife; and he himself +stood where Dick Hart had stood a moment before. These figures, +himself and his wife and child, vanished as suddenly and as strangely +as they had appeared, and he found himself on the platform on which +his duties were performed. A bewildering sound was in his ears. A +thousand engines were screaming furiously, a thousand voices were +shouting despairingly, a thousand terrible fears were making +themselves heard. The air was filled with clamour and confusion, and +starting forward with a wildly beating heart, he awoke. + +He had been dreaming. But there was cause for these his later fancies. +The faithful dog Snap was tearing at the door, through the crevices of +which Jim saw smoke stealing. He looked towards the bed: Polly and her +mother were fast asleep. He ran to the door, and opened it, and a +blaze of flame rushed on to him, and almost blinded him. The house was +on fire! + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVIII. + + FELIX BECOMES A LANDLORD. + + +Jim Podmore's first feeling after the shock of the discovery was one +of deep-felt gratitude, and a muttered "Thank the Lord!" escaped his +lips as he saw his wife and child lying asleep in bed. When he started +to his feet in a half-conscious state, with the clamour and the roar +in his ears, his fear was that there had been an accident on the line, +and that Polly and her mother had been hurt; and he was inexpressibly +relieved to find that he had been dreaming. So deep and strong was his +feeling of relief that he did not immediately realize the real danger +which threatened him and those dear to him. It came upon him presently +in its full force, and he recognised that a moment's delay might prove +fatal. The first thing to find out was the extent of the danger. He +had shut the door directly the fire met his gaze. Now he opened it, +and ran down a few steps, on which the fire had not yet seized. He was +beaten back by the flames. He fancied he heard cries from the lower +part of the house, but he could see nothing for the smoke. There was +no escape that way. Snap ran hither and thither in the wildest +agitation, barking at the flames to keep them down. As Jim Podmore +threw open the window in despair, to see what means of escape that +outlet afforded, he saw the forms of persons hurrying to the street, +and heard the cries they uttered. Those below could not distinguish +his face, for he had closed the door again, and impelled by some +strange process of reasoning, had locked it to keep out the flames. +They saw, however, that some one was standing at the window, and they +called out to him, but he was too agitated to understand what they +said. The front of the house presented a flat surface of brick, and +there seemed to be nothing between him and death--not a foothold, nor +anything to cling to. The whole of this action had taken place in +scarcely more than two or three moments, and within that time Snap had +leaped upon the bed, and had aroused Pollypod and her mother. Had they +been alone, it is probable that they would have slept on unconscious +of their danger, for the smoke, stealing through the crevices of the +door, had already somewhat stupefied them, and whatever subtle +influence that and the dull roar of voices without might have had upon +their dreams, they would not have aroused them to consciousness. Mrs. +Podmore, with a scream, jumped out of bed, and looked wildly around; +at the same moment she snatched Polly from the bed, and held the child +close to shield her from danger. + +"Keep cool, old woman," said Jim Podmore; "the house is on fire;" and +muttered inly, "I knew that presentiment would come true--didn't I +tell Old Wheels so?" + +Mrs. Podmore was now standing at the window by Jim's side, with Polly +in her arms. Their white night-dresses shone in the midst of the dark +surface of brick, and voices reached them, rashly advising them to +jump down. But they were on the third floor, and although Jim saw +friendly arms held out below, he held his wife tight, lest in her fear +she should obey the entreaties of their neighbours. + +"There's time enough for that, old woman," he muttered, with thick +breath; "perhaps the fire escape'll come. It'd be almost certain death +to take the leap." + +Time was too precious to waste in mere words, and he released her from +his embrace. She turned to the door, but he cried out to her not to +open it, and that their only chance lay in doing their best to keep +out the flames. + +"There's only one way out for us, old woman; and that's by the window. +Put Polly down, and give me a hand here. Quick! Don't be frightened, +my darling!" + +He was tying the bedclothes together, to form a rope by which they +might escape through the window, and Mrs. Podmore flew to help him. +The door began to crack, and the room to fill with smoke; little jets +of flame appeared. + +"God help us!" cried Mrs. Podmore. "We shall be burnt to death!" + +Jim said nothing to this, but all the bedclothes being used, he +hurriedly fixed the mattress against the door, to gain another moment; +then tied one end of the rope firmly to the foot of the bedstead, and +threw the other end out of the window. It reached a little below the +second-floor window. As he leaned forward to see how long it was, a +ladder was fixed against the wall of the house, and a man, cheered on +by the crowd, ran up to the room where Old Wheels slept. + +"There's the old man getting out," said Jim, in a suppressed tone; the +father, mother, and child were now together at the window; "and the +man's jumped into the room. Don't look behind you, mother! Thank God, +there's the fire-engine!" + +It came tearing up the narrow street, and brave men were at work +almost in an instant. + +"The man's out on the ladder, mother, with Lily in his arms. Hurrah!" +Jim lost sight of his own danger for a moment. "It'll be our turn +presently. The Gribbles are getting down now. They've found a rope!" + +Indeed, in less time than it takes to describe, all these, happily, +were safely rescued, and only Jim Podmore and his wife and child +remained in the burning house. The flames were in the room, and the +fire-escape had not arrived. A moment's delay now would be fatal. + +"Do you think you could hold fast to the rope," asked Jim of his wife, +with a tightening grasp on the knots, "and slide down? There's no +other chance left." + +"I don't know, Jim," replied the trembling woman. + +"See--there are two men climbing the ladder to catch us, and there are +others below them, holding them up. You'll have to drop into their +arms when you get to the end. Quick, mother! Now?" + +"I can't, Jim," gasped the fainting woman; "I can't. Never mind me. +Save Polly!" + +Without another word, Jim Podmore, with Polly in his arms, swung out +upon the rope. Happily it held and bore strain. Those below watched +him with agonised looks, and the roar suddenly became hushed. + +"Drop the child!" cried a voice. It came from one of the men on the +ladder, and sounded clear and distinct, as from a silver trumpet. +"Don't be frightened, Pollypod! It's me--Felix!" + +"Felix! Felix!" screamed Pollypod, and as she cried, fell through the +air into his arms. The cheers and the roar of delight that came from +the crowd were frozen as it were in the throats of the excited throng +as Jim, assuring himself by a hasty glance that his child was safe, +began to ascend the rope for his wife. He was not a moment too soon. +She was so overpowered with fright that he had to drag her through the +window. + +"Keep your senses about you," he cried, "for God's sake, old woman! +Polly's safe! Hold me tight--don't loose your hold! For Polly's sake, +now--for Polly's sake, mother!" + +She clung to him so tightly as almost to press the breath out of his +body; it was fortunate for them that another ladder was raised, and +that other friendly arms were held out to break their fall. The moment +they were safe, the attention of the crowd was diverted to the form of +a dog, who was standing and barking on the window-sill above. It was +Snap, who had been left behind. The dog was in great distress, for the +flames were darting towards him, and he could scarcely keep his +foothold. But Jim Podmore saw the peril of his faithful servant, and +having hurriedly ascertained that his wife and Pollypod were unhurt, +he ran up the ladder and called out to Snap to jump. The dog had but +one alternative--to be burnt; so he risked his limbs, and jumped clean +on the shoulders of his master, whence he rolled safely into the +crowd, who cheered merrily at the episode. Soon all the rescued ones +were assembled in a house at the bottom of the street. Their +neighbours had lent them clothes, and they stood looking strangely at +one another, grateful for their escape, but dismayed at the prospect +before them. Presently their tongues were loosened, and every little +incident connected with the fire was narrated with eagerness. No one +knew or suspected how it had occurred. Alfred had come home, and, in +accordance with the promise he had given to Lizzie to kiss Lily +before he went to bed, had knocked at his sister's door and found that +she was awake. He sat talking to her for about a quarter of an hour, +and then went to bed. + +"I was asleep in a minute," said Alfred, "and I don't remember +anything until I was pulled out of bed and told the house was on +fire." + +He held out his hand to Felix, for it was Felix who, after helping to +rescue Lily and Old Wheels, had aroused Alfred to a sense of his +danger. Felix responded cordially, and was sufficient of a casuist to +be quietly pleased because a lucky chance had given him a claim upon +Alfred's gratitude. + +Voices asked where the fire had commenced. + +"It must have broken out in the lower part of the house," said Old +Wheels; "but it does not matter to us now. Thank God we're all saved, +eh, Pollypod?" + +Pollypod nodded her head a dozen times, and looked solemnly at Felix. + +"_You_ saved _me_," she said. + +"Father saved you, Polly," replied Felix. "Didn't he make a rope and +creep out of the window down it with Polly in his arms?" + +"But you caught me!" + +"Yes, I caught you, little one. It's like the story of Cock Robin, +with a happier ending. Some one saw the fire--some one cried out--some +one climbed up--some one crept down--some one caught Polly." + +Which made Polly laugh. But her father looked grave, His strait was a +hard one indeed. Every stick of furniture burnt, every scrap of spare +clothing burnt, no money in his purse, and not insured for a shilling. +Here was a fine example for theorists whose favourite theme is the +improvidence of the poor! + +The Gribbles were better off than the others, and had taken shelter +elsewhere. Gribble junior had saved his little store of money, and had +thrown his clothes and those of his wife out of the window, not having +had time to put them on. Gribble senior drivelled a great deal; and +weakly declared his belief that co-operation was the cause of this, +his crowning misfortune. + +Jim Podmore did not say anything of his dream. His wife made a remark. + +"It's an ill-wind that blows nobody good, Jim. If you hadn't fell +asleep in the chair, you wouldn't have saved your clothes, perhaps." + +"A nice figure I should ha' looked going to work without 'em," he +replied, with grim humour. + +If there was any comfort in the fact that they were all in the same +boat as regards the complete destruction of their worldly goods, that +comfort was theirs. The only one who seemed to make light of the +misfortune was Felix; he extracted some secret satisfaction from it. +He had a plan in his head. + +He certainly lost no time in putting it into execution. In the +afternoon of the following day he burst in upon them. He was flushed +and triumphant. + +"Now, then," he said, with heartless gaiety, "if you had anything to +pack up, I should tell you to pack up at once and get ready. As it is, +you can come along with we at once. I intend to take you all into +custody." + +They looked at him for his meaning. + +"Polly," he said, "will you come and live in my house?" + +"O, yes, yes!" + +"I've settled it all with your husband, Mrs. Podmore, and he comes +straight from his work to my house to-night; so you are powerless, you +see, and dare not make an objection." + +Old Wheels drew Felix aside. + +"Explain this to me, Felix." + +"Well, I knew of a house--a small one--ready furnished, which I could +obtain on reasonable terms for a short time. I have taken it as a +speculation, and I am going to instal you at once in your new home." + +"How as a speculation, Felix?" + +"Why, you shall pay me rent, of course, when you have turned yourself +round, and so shall Mr. Podmore. The loss would be a very trifling one +to me--I am doing fairly well now, you know--if you all cheated me out +of the rent. Seriously, sir, I know you would as soon be under an +obligation to me as to any other man, and a home you must have. I am +delighted to have you all in my power." + +He beckoned to Lily. + +"Where do you think your new home is, Lily?" + +"I can't guess." + +Strange enough, she also seemed to extract happiness from their +trouble. + +"Where would you like it to be? Near to Lizzie's?" + +She uttered an exclamation of pleasure. + +"Well, it is; within twenty yards of Lizzie's house. Lizzie is making +everything ready for you now. Mrs. Podmore has a room upstairs. A cab +is waiting at the door, and we are all going together in a bunch." + +Old Wheels rang Felix's hand; Lily smiled one of her brightest smiles; +Pollypod jumped for joy; Mrs. Podmore burst out crying, and throwing +her arms round Felix's neck, kissed him first and begged his pardon +afterwards. + +That evening they were all comfortably installed in their new +residence. Even Alfred was delighted, although he knew that a sword +was hanging over his head. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIX. + + ALFRED'S LAST CHANCE. + + +It happened that on the day succeeding the fire Mr. David Sheldrake +purposely kept away from Soho. He was nettled at the treatment he had +received the previous evening, both from Lily and Lizzie, and he was +determined to show them that he was not to be trifled with. He knew +that Alfred would be uneasy at not seeing him, for a great race--the +City and Suburban--was to be run at Epsom the following week, and +Alfred's hopes hung upon the result. Alfred had begged for another +advance of money, and Mr. Sheldrake had promised to give it to him, +knowing that it would be returned to him through Con Staveley. "He +will be mad at not seeing me," thought Mr. Sheldrake, "and he will set +it down to the manner in which the girls behaved to me last night. +They will be sure to hear of it from him, and it will do them good. +At any rate, it will show them that it is a dangerous game to play +fast-and-loose with me." Mr. Sheldrake's vanity was wounded; he had +never taken so much pains with a girl as he had taken with Lily, and +here he was, after many months' attention and wooing, in the same +position as when he started. Time had been wasted, and money had been +thrown away; not much of the latter certainly--but the result +altogether was unsatisfactory. He would bring the matter to a climax; +he would close on Alfred, and send old Musgrave and Lizzie to the +right-about. He had them all in his power, and fear might accomplish +what fair words failed to do. + +He did not hear of the fire until late in the following night. He +hastened to the spot, and found the house in ruins. It was quite +midnight before he ascertained where Lily had found refuge, and when +he learnt that they had gone to live in a house very near to that +occupied by Mr. Musgrave, he smiled complacently. "I could not have +hoped for anything better," he thought. Before noon the next day he +was at the house, overwhelming them with expressions of sympathy and +with offers of assistance, all of which were gently declined by Old +Wheels. + +"We want for nothing, thank you," he said smilingly. + +"But," urged Mr. Sheldrake somewhat coarsely, "I am told you were +burnt right out, and hadn't time to save a stick." + +"You were told right; we did not save a stick." + +"Then you want a friend," persisted Mr. Sheldrake. + +"We did," said Old Wheels, "and one came--the best of friends." + +Burning to know who this best of friends was, Mr. Sheldrake put the +question direct, which Old Wheels parried by saying, + +"I don't think he would like us to speak of it, and I shall please +him, I believe, by not mentioning his name." + +There were in the room only the old man and Lily and Pollypod, and not +one of these enlightened Mr. Sheldrake. When the old man spoke of this +best of friends, Pollypod chimed in with enthusiastic declarations, +and said, in her childlike way, that he was so good, so good! + +"He seems to be a favourite with all of you," observed Mr. Sheldrake. + +"He is a wizard," said Pollypod from her corner; "a good wizard. +Father says he's a trump, and mother loves him. So do I, dearly, +dearly. So does Mr. Wheels. So does Lily--don't you, Lily?" + +Mr. Sheldrake turned suddenly and sharply upon Lily. A deep rose-tint +had stolen into her face, and, for contrast, a dark cloud overshadowed +Mr. Sheldrake's. Not a motion, not a look, escaped Old Wheels, who +said, + +"Yes, we cannot help having an affection for one who has been so kind +to us." + +"Of course not, of course not," assented Mr. Sheldrake, concealing his +displeasure, "and I consider myself particularly unfortunate in having +been deprived of the opportunity of standing in his place. Then I +might have had the same claim upon your affection. It is the more +unfortunate because I am so often in the habit of strolling about Soho +during the small hours. Many a time have I walked up and down your +street for an hour at least after midnight. Now what hard fortune was +it that prevented me doing so on this occasion?" He intended these +words to convey a significant declaration of his tender regard for +Lily, and he added, in a low tone, addressed especially to her: "I +went home not very happy because I thought you were angry with me for +what occurred at the theatre. I hope you are not displeased with me +now. Indeed, I was not to blame." + +And again Mr. Sheldrake pressed offers of assistance upon Old Wheels, +which again were firmly declined. The man of the world departed in no +pleasant humour. His jealousy was aroused. Who was this friend, of +whom the child had said that she loved him dearly, dearly, and that +Lily loved him also? He had half a suspicion, and he was determined to +know. Then his thoughts reverted to Lily's behaviour to himself. "Does +she suspect," he mused, in his own elegant vernacular, "that I'm not +acting on the square, and is she holding off on purpose to draw me on? +In one word, David Sheldrake, is the girl a model of simplicity--or +artfulness? Any way, she is a witch, and has set me on fire, I _will_ +have her! I could almost make up my mind to marry her." A serious +consideration for such a man as he, who look upon girls merely as the +playthings of an hour, and in whose mind womanly virtue and goodness +are like dead wood in a forest. That, in case he made up his mind to +such a contingency, there would be a doubt of success, was too +manifestly ridiculous to be entertained for a moment. As he mused, he +saw Alfred coming towards him. The young man did not see Mr. Sheldrake +at first, and that gentleman stepped aside to observe Alfred's manner, +in which he seemed to detect something more marked than usual. Alfred +was walking quickly and nervously, looking over his shoulder hurriedly +this way and that, as if some one were dogging him. Once a dog ran, +barking, out of a house, and Alfred turned round swiftly with a white +face and an exclamation of fright. Mr. Sheldrake watched these +symptoms of agitation with remarkable keenness, and as Alfred passed +clapped him on the shoulder. A cry of alarm escaped from Alfred's +trembling lips, for Mr. Sheldrake's salutation was sudden and violent; +seeing who it was, however, Alfred smiled and drew a long breath of +relief. + +"Who did you think it was, Alf?" asked Mr. Sheldrake, to whom Alfred's +manner seemed to be in some way a satisfaction. + +"I didn't know, you clapped me on the shoulder so suddenly." + +"You gave a cry," observed Mr. Sheldrake, with assumed carelessness, +"for all the world as if I were a detective officer. Don't start; I'm +not. That's one comfort, isn't it?" + +"I don't see how it is a comfort," said Alfred half sullenly, and yet +with an air which showed that he wished not to offend his companion; +"I'm nervous, that's the fact. Been smoking and drinking a little too +much; I shall be all right next Tuesday, after the City and Suburban's +run." + +"Going to Epsom to see the race?" + +"Yes; I hope you'll do what you promised." + +"We'll talk of that presently. You've got the tip, of course?" + +"Yes, and a good one; but there's something else I'm going to do if +you'll stand my friend once more." + +"A new system?" + +"Well, not exactly that: but a plan which _must_ prevent the chance of +loss." + +"That's good enough, Alf," said Mr. Sheldrake in a light tone. "But +come, I want to have a talk with you." They were at the gate of Mr. +Musgrave's house. "Let us turn in here." + +Lizzie opened the door, and greeted them with a smile. Mr. Sheldrake +had not seen her since the night they were at the theatre together, +and, remembering how she had spoken to him then, he was somewhat +surprised at her amiability. He was still more surprised when Lizzie +said she hoped he had not taken offence because she spoke so sharply +to him. + +"I was so anxious about Lily you see," she said; "and even Alfred had +to put up with my bad temper. Didn't you, Alf?" + +"Yes, dear," replied Alfred, pleased with her changed manner towards +his friend. + +"Well, well," said Mr. Sheldrake, gaily shaking hands again with +Lizzie, "let byegones be byegones. Is the old man at home?" + +"No," replied Lizzie readily; "I don't think he will be back for an +hour." + +"We'll go into his room," said Mr. Sheldrake, and he and Alfred went +upstairs to the room where Mr. Musgrave transacted his business, and +which Lizzie had called Bluebeard's room, because she was never +allowed to enter it. Mr. Sheldrake had a private key, and before he +opened the door, he turned to Lizzie, who had accompanied them to the +landing, and tapping her familiarly on the cheek, told her to go down +stairs, that he and Alfred would not keep her long, and that he was +glad she thought better of him. + +"Upon my word," he said with blithe significance, "I'm as glad for +Alfred's sake as I am for my own." + +And with a light laugh he led the way into the room. If he had seen +the change that came over the girl's face when he shut the door upon +her, and if he had seen her clench her little fists, and shake them at +an airy picture of himself which she conjured up, he might have +altered his agreeable tone. His manner also changed directly the door +was closed and locked. An his cordiality vanished as he sat down at +the table and took a pocket-book from his pocket. Alfred watched him +apprehensively. + +Everything in this Bluebeard's room betokened order and system. Two +sides of the room were completely covered with pigeon-holes, and the +compartments were nearly filled with documents neatly folded and +ticketed. Although, from the appearance of the room and the shelves, a +large amount of work was evidently gone through, not a loose document +nor a scrap of writing was lying about. This circumstance appeared to +give Mr. Sheldrake much satisfaction, and he nodded his head +approvingly as he looked around. He did not waste time, however, but +proceeded at once to the business before him. Opening his pocket-book, +he selected some papers from it, and laid them on the table. + +"Sit down, Alf," he said. + +Alfred obeyed. Mr. Sheldrake unfolded the papers, and jotted down some +figures from them; and laying his hand upon them, as if he did not +immediately intend to refer to them said, + +"I have been to your new house to-day, Alf." + +"I called at your place yesterday," said Alfred, "to tell you about +the fire, and where we had moved to, but you were not at home." + +"No; and I kept from Soho purposely. I was angry with Lizzie, and I +was not pleased with your sister. They will have to learn, if they +have not learned already, that I am not to be trifled with." + +Alfred had no reply to make to this; he felt that his best plan would +be to listen quietly, and to say as few words as possible. + +"By heavens;" exclaimed Mr. Sheldrake, with more passion that he +usually displayed, "I think I have been patient long enough--too +long! No other man but me would have stood it. Every advance that I +make--except," he added with a sneer, "those advances I make to +you--is met as if I were an enemy instead of a friend. It is time for +this to be settled. I'll know very soon whether I'm to be a friend or +foe. I can be as good an enemy as a friend, and that I'll prove. With +you, now, which is it, friend or foe?" + +"Which _can_ it be," answered Alfred moodily, "but friend?" + +"Out-and-out friend, eh? No half-measures--thorough!" + +"Thorough, out-and-out!" responded Alfred a little less despondently. + +"No beating about the bush? No concealments, no double-dealing?" + +"None." + +"And you say this," pursued Mr. Sheldrake with remorseless +tenacity--he had been so goaded that it was necessary he should +revenge himself upon some one--"you say this not because it is for +your interest to say it--not because you are in my debt, and I could +shut you up at any moment I please--but because you believe it, +because you know that I am straightforward, honest-minded, +open-hearted?" + +"What other motive can I have for saying it?" + +"But say it plainly. You wish me to continue your friend, and to be my +friend, for the reasons that I have given?" + +"Yes, for those reasons, and no other." And as Alfred spoke the lie +which was forced from him by fear, Mr. Sheldrake laughed lightly, and +with an open scorn of the avowal, which brought the blood to the +younger man's cheek. + +It brought the blood also to the cheek of another person, not in the +room. Crouching outside the door, at the top of the landing, was +Lizzie, listening with beating heart, and hearing every word that +passed. She could see clearly everything in the room, and being in the +dark herself, could not be detected. A small lumber-room, the door of +which she had partly opened, and which swung noiselessly on its +hinges, was ready to afford her the means of concealment should the +suspicions of Mr. Sheldrake be aroused. She saw the insolent +triumphant manner of Mr. Sheldrake, and she thought for a moment that +if she were a man, she would kill him; but she saw also the abject +manner of her lover, and her passion was subdued by fear. + +"If I thought you were deceiving me, Alf," said Mr. Sheldrake, "I +should know what to do." + +"What makes you speak in this way to me?" Alfred mustered up +sufficient courage to ask. "If you doubt me, try me." + +"I will. I was at your house to-day, as I have told you. I offered +your grandfather assistance; he declined it. Both he and Lily were +anything but cordial to me. For the old man I don't care one jot; but +he influences Lily, and has power over her. She follows the cue he +gives her. The old man said they wanted for nothing; that they had a +friend, who had come forward at the nick of time--a friend, said that +railway man's little girl, that they all loved--old man, little girl, +Lily, and all." + +Mr. Sheldrake bit his lips at the remembrance of the blush which had +come to Lily's cheek when Pollypod asked her if she didn't love this +friend. + +"Children talk all sorts of nonsense," said Alfred, "and Polly more +than most children." + +"Perhaps; but that isn't the question just now. Who is this friend, +this paragon, this model of goodness, that everybody loves?" + +Alfred hesitated for one moment only. Felix asked them, as a +particular favour, not to mention his name as having befriended them, +and they had given him the promise. But Alfred felt that to hesitate +now, and to beat about the bush with Mr. Sheldrake in that gentleman's +present humour, would be fatal to him. So he answered, + +"His name is Felix Creamwell. He in an old acquaintance." + +"I thought so; the same young cub who interrupted my conversation with +Lily after we came from the theatre. What is the special tie that +binds him to your people?" + +This direct questioning of Felix s motive for befriending them +staggered Alfred. It had never occurred to him before; and with the +sudden introduction of the subject came a glimpse of light--a new +revelation--which enabled him but dimly at present to place a possible +correct construction on Lily's unhappiness. Policy impelled him to +reply, + +"Friendship for my grandfather, I suppose." + +But he stammered over the words, and Mr. Sheldrake said sharply, + +"You don't seem quite certain as to his motive, Alf." + +"I know that there's a great friendship between him and my +grandfather," said Alfred, and with a fuller consciousness of what was +at stake; "and although I have never asked myself the question, I +should say that what he has done has been prompted by friendship." + +"Not by love?" + +"Love for whom?" inquired Alfred in his turn, with ready cunning. + +"Well, let that pass," replied Mr. Sheldrake, only too willing not to +have his doubts confirmed. "I daresay I can square the account between +us, if we ever come across each other. I _know_ I can make it even +with you. He has a motive, doubtless, and I don't believe in +disinterested friendship. Now we will come to our own business." He +took the papers which he had laid aside, and looked over them. "You +know what these are?" + +"I see some of my bills among them." + +"Accounts of money you owe me--dishonoured acceptances, and other +documents equally valuable. Here is your bill for sixty pounds, due +three weeks since, dishonoured, and for which you were served with a +writ." + +"As a mere matter of form, I understood you to say," put in Alfred, +trembling. + +"I have obtained judgment upon it, nevertheless." + +"What for?" + +"So as to be ready," said Mr. Sheldrake coolly, "in case I find you +are playing the double with me. It will be best for you to understand +at once that I am in serious earnest. Miss Lizzie would not say many +more uncivil things to me if she knew this. I suppose you couldn't say +how much you owe me?" + +"I haven't kept an account." + +"It being no business of yours. Well, I have, feeling interested in +it, naturally; and what between me and Con Stavely, the debt is as +near three hundred pounds as possible. Is it convenient to you to +settle this small account?" + +"You know it isn't," answered Alfred, with a groan; and added +entreatingly, "If you will advance me what you promised for the City +and Suburban, I shall be able to pay you a good lump after the race." + +"How if you lose?" + +"I can't lose I must win; I must! Even if I didn't do what I am going +to do--even if I trusted entirely to chance--luck must turn. You have +told me so yourself a dozen times. But I don't depend upon that." + +"How much do you want?" + +"Forty pounds;" and Alfred twined his fingers nervously. Indeed, it +seemed to him, as it had seemed a dozen times in the course of the +year gone by, that the result was a certainty, if he had only the +money to back his opinion. "If I can but once get clear," he thought, +not for the first time, "I'll never back another horse as long as I +live--never, never!" + +It was not his debt to Mr. Sheldrake that pressed so heavily upon him; +there was a sharper and more terrible sword hanging over him. + +"What horses would you back for this money, Alf?" + +Alfred, encouraged by a tinge of the old cordiality in Mr. Sheldrake's +tone, answered confidently: + +"I would put ten pounds on Xanthus, and twenty pounds on Kingcraft." + +"And the other ten pounds?" + +"I want that to speculate with on the race-course on the day of the +race." + +"No," said Mr. Sheldrake in a decided tone, "I can't consent to that. +I shall give you no money in hand to play ducks and drakes with." + +"Well, then, I'll put it _all_ on Kingcraft and Xanthus--fifteen +pounds on Xanthus, and twenty-five on Kingcraft." + +"What makes you fancy Kingcraft? Xanthus I know is good--all the +papers speak up for him." + +"Didn't Kingcraft win the Derby?" cried Alfred excitedly. "I'm told +that the horse has come back to his old form, and that he's certain to +win. A man told me who knows all about it. The stable have been +keeping it dark, and they're all going to put their money on. I shall +be able to pay you every penny back, and I shall never know how to +thank you enough. I've told Liz and Lily that no man ever had such a +friend as you are to me, and I'll tell them again. Will you do it for +me?" + +"Let me see. The odds about Kingcraft are----" + +"Fifteen to one," interposed Alfred eagerly; "and six to one about +Xanthus. I only back Xanthus to save myself. One or other is certain +to pull off the race." + +"Very well; Ill give you the odds myself." + +"You will! You are a trump, and no mistake. How can I thank you! Are +you making a book on the race?" + +"Yes, and it will be better for you that I should take the bet rather +than anybody else; for then," he added with a quiet chuckle, "the +money will be safe." + +"Yes, that it will," said Alfred in all sincerity. "Fifteen to one to +twenty-five pounds--that will be three hundred and seventy-five pounds +if I win on Kingcraft, and ninety pounds, if Xanthus wins." + +He felt as if he had the larger sum already in his pocket, and the +despair which filled him but a few minutes since was swallowed up in +the false hope. + +"I will send you the vouchers to-morrow, and now I want _your_ voucher +for this money that I am going to lend you." + +Always willing enough to give his signature, Alfred waited, pen in +hand, while Mr. Sheldrake drew up the paper. It was to the effect that +Alfred had borrowed of him forty pounds, with which he had backed two +horses named for the City and Suburban Race, to be run at Epsom on +Tuesday 23rd of April, and that he promised to pay back the money the +Saturday after the race. + +Alfred read it carelessly, and remarked, as he signed it, + +"This is differently worded to any of the other things I have signed." + +"I have a purpose in drawing it up in this way," said Mr. Sheldrake, +as he folded the paper and placed it in his pocket-book. "This +document and the protested bills would be awkward things to take to +your employers, Messrs. Tickle and Flint, in case you didn't pay, or +in case I found that you were playing me false--or in case of other +contingencies I need not mention just now. It might induce them to +make an mediate examination of the vouchers and books in your care. +You are cashier there, I believe, Alf. A tempting thing is the +handling of other people's money, Alf--a devilish tempting thing--when +one is in debt and wants to get rich too quick." + +"What do you mean?" cried Alfred, with such terror in his face and in +his voice that Lizzie on the outside of the door was compelled to +cling to the baluster for support. "For God's sake!----" + +"Don't agitate yourself, Alf. I am only putting an extreme case. I +hope I may not be driven to such a course. It depends more on others +than on yourself. And now I think our little conference is ended. +Anything more to say? No? Well, you shall have your vouchers +to-morrow." + +Lizzie glided down-stairs noiselessly, and when, a few moments +afterwards, Mr. Sheldrake came down and shook hands with her, she +accompanied him to the gate and wished him good-bye with a smile on +her lips, although her hand was like ice in his grasp. + +"You've tamed that little devil, David," he mused as he walked along; +"she'll be twice as civil and polite the next time you meet her. Now +if Kingcraft pull off the City and Suburban---- Well, Con Staveley can +give the odds. I'll tell Alfred that my book is full, and that, as I +can't lay any more, I got Con to take his bets. And Con Staveley +needn't pay if the horse wins." + +Lizzie went back to Alfred, and found him racked by despair one +moment, buoyed up by hope another. She went up to him and kissed him, +saying cheerfully, + +"Am I not a good girl, Alf, for behaving so well to Mr. Sheldrake?" + +"Yes, dear Liz, you are; I wish I were as good." + +"Nonsense, dear; you're not strong-minded, that's all. And I don't +think you love me enough." + +"You mustn't say that, Liz. I love no other." + +"I don't think you do, Alf; but if you loved me as well as I love you, +you would not keep secrets from me." + +He looked at her with sudden alarm. + +"Secrets, Liz! Who told you I had secrets?" + +"My heart," she replied, with a yearning look, and then, at sight of +his troubled face, altered her tone as if she were schooling herself, +and said archly, "Girls are artful guessers. And I'm jealous." + +"Of whom?" + +"Of Mr. Sheldrake. You have been talking secrets with him up-stairs; +and I have a better right than he to share them with you. I hate that +man!" she exclaimed, with flashing eyes. "There's nothing mean that he +wouldn't do; he has a false heart, and his smooth words can't hide his +bad thoughts. I saw in his face to-day what seems to be hidden from +you. O, how I wish you had never known him!" + +"It's of no use wishing, Liz. Perhaps it will all turn out for the +best. Don't worry me, there's a dear! I want cheering up badly." + +He laid his head upon the table wearily; his folly had made life very +bitter to him. One of its sweetest blessings was his, and he had set +it far below worthless things. As Lizzie's arms stole tenderly round +his neck, and as her sweet words fell upon his ears, he was conscious +that he had never rightly appreciated her love. He thought now how +happy his life might be if he had been contented and honest, and if he +had not yielded to temptation. + +"Lizzie," he said with his face hidden, "I have not acted rightly to +you. If I could commence over again----" + +"Nonsense, Alf," she interposed, in as cheerful a tone as she could +command, for his remark, with the meaning it conveyed, brought the +tears to her eyes; "I'll not allow you to speak like that. I should be +satisfied if I could see you happier in your mind. You have some grief +that you will not let me share, and that pains me. You seem to be +frightened of something that you cannot see. I have noticed that you +have often been unconscious of what is passing, and that you seem to +be listening---- There! as you are now!" + +He had risen to his feet with wild eyes, and was listening, with a +terrible expression of fear in his face, to the sound of loud voices +in the street. The speakers had stopped outside the house, and Alfred +crept softly to the window. They passed away presently, and Alfred, +with a sigh of relief, returned to Lizzie's side. + +"What's the meaning of this, Alf?" she asked, with a fainting heart. +"I have a right to know. Tell me." + +"Not now," he replied, taking her cold hand and placing it on his +forehead. "I dare not. If you love me, don't ask me questions. I have +been foolish, and have not taken care of myself. It will be all right +after next Tuesday, and we'll be happy again as we used to be. Come," +he cried, with an attempt at gaiety, facing her with his hands on her +shoulders, "if you want to do me good, wish me luck next Tuesday." + +"I wish you luck, dear, with all my heart." + +"That's right, Liz; and when you go to bed, pray that I may be lucky, +my dear. For if I am, all this trouble will be over, and we'll +commence a happy life--you, and I, and Lily. And we'll tell our +secret then--our own secret, dearest, that no one knows but you and +me." + +He drew her towards him, and she laid her head upon his shoulder. +Something in his words made him the consoler now. + +"It will have to be told soon, Alf dear, or it will tell itself," she +said, in a tone in which joy and pain were subtly mingled. + +"I know it, darling; and I've been working, and trying to get money +for you and me and Lil, and bad fortune has pursued me so steadily +that I have been driven almost mad. Ah, Liz, I love you! You'll see +how I love you when all this trouble comes to an end. And it _will_ +come to an end now that you've wished me luck, and will pray for it." + +She pressed him in her arms, grateful for his calmer and tenderer +mood. + +"May I say something to you, dear?" she asked. + +"Anything, darling; kiss me first." + +She kissed him, and he said softly. + +"What a pity it is that time will not stand still, isn't it, Liz? Now, +if we could be like this for a long, long time, what happiness it +would be! I almost feel as if I should like to die now, with you in my +arms. What is it you want to say, darling?" + +"Something about Lily." + +"Dear Lily! Go on." + +"Have you noticed that Mr. Sheldrake has been paying her a great deal +of attention?" + +"I think he likes her, Liz." + +"You think! You know, you mean. But, Alf, if I had a sister that I +loved as you love Lily, and who loved me as Lily loves you, I would +rather see her in her grave than see her placed as Lily is now." + +"Lizzie!" + +"I mean what I say, Alf, and you ought to have seen it more clearly +before. Do you believe that Mr. Sheldrake has any honourable +intentions in his open admiration for Lily?" + +"If I thought otherwise----" cried Alfred hotly. + +"What would you do?" interrupted Lizzie; "what _could_ you do, placed +as you are with that man? He has been working for this, Alf dear, and +you haven't seen it. So deep and true is Lily's love for you, that if +he were to say to her, 'I have your brother in my power, and I can +bring misery and shame upon him, and will, if you are cold to me!'--if +he were to say this to Lily in his own bad way, and work upon her +loving heart in his own bad way----O, Alfred, I could almost pray that +somebody would kill him!--if he were to do all this, as he may, I +tremble to think what Lily would do." + +"What would she do?" The words came faintly from a throat parched by +remorse. + +"Can you ask, Alf? What would _I_ do for you? To secure your +happiness, is there any sacrifice that I would not make? Lily's love +for you, although it is the love of a sister, is not less strong than +mine. But I have learnt harder lessons than Lily has had to learn, and +I should not be so easily led as she would be. A bad, calculating man, +as Mr. Sheldrake is, could work upon such a simple nature as hers more +easily than upon mine. I should be strong where she, through innocence +and simplicity, would be weak. And when she felt, as she would feel, +that any sacrifice of happiness which she would be called upon to make +would be made to secure the happiness of a beloved brother----" + +"Stop, Lizzie!" cried Alfred, rising in his agitation, and turning +from her. "Stop, for God's sake! I have been blind." + +Yes, he had been blind; and blindly had walked, step by step, to the +terrible abyss which lay before him now, deliberately taking with him +a pure devoted girl, whom, despite all his selfishness, he loved next +in the world to Lizzie. All the sweet memories of his life, until he +met Lizzie, were of his sister, and he had conspired against her +happiness. He was powerless now to undo the past; but he might atone +for it. He silently swore that if he were fortunate on Tuesday he +would become a better man. + +"I have something else to tell you, Alfred," said Lizzie, after a long +pause. "Lily is in love." + +"In love! Ah, I see more clearly now, dear Lizzie. With Felix?" + +"Yes, a happy life is before her, with that true man, if happily they +come together." + +"And he?" + +"Loves her." + +"Has he told you?" + +"No; but there are things that need no telling. We women know. He has +not spoken to her, because, because----" + +"Go on, Lizzie." + +"Because he sees what you have been blind to, and out of the nobleness +of his heart will not add to her distress." + +"It would have been better for her," groaned Alfred, "and for you, if +I had never been born." + +"Nay," remonstrated Lizzie, in a gentle loving tone, "we must not +repine: we must try to do better. Promise--and I will help you, with +all my strength, and so will Lily and Felix--ah, you don't know what a +heart he has! And your grandfather, Alfred, that good old man----" + +"I know what you would say about him, Lizzie. I am punished enough +already." + +Indeed, he was very humble and repentant; and, when he went home, he +knocked at his grandfather's door. It was dusk, and they could but +dimly see each other's faces. + +"I have come to ask your forgiveness, sir," said Alfred. + +Old Wheels started to his feet, in joyful agitation. He understood it +all immediately. + +"My dear boy," he said, with a sob, taking Alfred's hand, "Not another +word; not another word." + +He pressed the young man to his heart and kissed him. Lily, hearing +the voices, came into the passage. + +"Come here, Lily," cried Old Wheels. "Come hear, dear child." + +Lily flew into the room, and after the joy that this glad meeting +brought to them, they settled down quietly, and talked, and thought, +and hoped, while the evening shadows deepened. The tender movements +she made towards Alfred and her grandfather, the expressions of +exquisite happiness she uttered, almost unconsciously, every now and +then, the loving caresses, the musical little laughs, the words, "O, I +am so happy now! so happy!" that escaped again and again, like music +from her lips, delighted the old man. + +"We want Lizzie here," said Old Wheels tenderly. + +"And Felix," thought Lily. This reunion seemed to bring Felix nearer +to her. + + + + + CHAPTER XL. + + ON EPSOM DOWNS. + + +"Pray that I may be lucky, my dear." + +Alfred had spoken these words to Lizzie with fullest meaning. He did +not ask for a wish; he asked for a prayer. He was not himself given to +praying, but on this night, before he went to bed, he knelt at his +bedside for the first time for many, many months, with a distinct +devotional purpose, in his mind, and prayed with all his mental power +that Kingcraft, the horse he had backed, might win the City and +Suburban race on the following day. + +He remained at his devotions for fully a quarter of an hour, and had +his grandfather seen him in his attitude of contrition, the old man +would indeed have been comforted. But during this quarter of an hour +no entreaty for forgiveness of folly and crime passed Alfred's lips. +Remorse he felt, but it was the remorse born of fear. Every form of +prayer with which he had been familiar in childhood was unconsciously +made subservient to his present purpose. His one prayerful thought +shaped in silence by his lips was, "I pray with all my soul that +Kingcraft may win the City and Suburban. Let Kingcraft win, O Lord! I +pray that Kingcraft may win. Kingcraft! Kingcraft! Win the race! Win +the race!" He transposed these words in a hundred different ways, and +thought them with as much agonising intensity as the most righteous +saint could have done. When he rose to his feet, he felt strengthened +by the charm he had laid upon himself. He felt that nothing could +prevent Kingcraft from winning; and he already began to look ahead +beyond the day, when, with the money he would receive, he could set +himself free, and begin again; already his better resolutions were +beginning to be weakened by the prospect of large gains easily +obtained. He argued with himself, as he had done scores of times +before. There was no harm in betting; there was only harm in losing. +If there were any harm in it, would the newspapers encourage it? It +was reading the newspapers that first put the idea into his head; what +followed had followed naturally. He had been unlucky, that was all. +Well, luck would turn now. Why, here he would prove that luck would +turn. He did, as he had often done before; once again he wrote on +separate pieces of paper the names of the horses that were likely to +run in the race; he folded them up separately, and shook them in his +hat; he shut his eyes, and putting his hand among the papers, fumbled +with them until he selected one. He drew it forth and opened it. +Kingcraft! There was a plain proof. How _could_ the horse lose after +that? He laughed gleefully, and _would_ not entertain the thought that +he had purposely written the name of this horse on a larger piece of +paper than the others, so that he might be sure of drawing out the one +he wanted. He went to bed, and dreamt of the race. The whole of the +familiar scene passed before him in his dream; he had staked a lot of +money on Kingcraft, and he saw the horse sailing past the winner's +post, an easy winner, and found himself the winner of a thousand +pounds. "Why not?" he asked of himself, as he awoke exultant; "why +shouldn't I win a thousand pounds? If I could borrow money somehow, I +could pay it back at once. No one would know, and we should all be +happy." He read the daily newspapers eagerly, and sucked fresh hope +and renewed incentives from them. The papers said that Kingcraft was +in blooming health; that the stable believed in him; that a fine +jockey was to ride him to probable victory; and that the public were +backing him. Even, thought Alfred, in his endeavours to come to a fair +conclusion, even if Kingcraft should, by some strange and +unaccountable chance, not come in first, what horse was to beat him? +For, notwithstanding the honest and upright manner in which the +national sport is carried on, strange and unaccountable occurrences do +sometimes happen; roguery does occasionally triumph. Well, what horse +would win, if Kingcraft came in second instead of first? Xanthus, of +course. Xanthus, the horse that was rising daily in popular favour. +Were not all the honest and disinterested tribe of prophets and +tipsters warning their miserable public to look after him? Said one, +"Xanthus must not be lost sight of;" said another, "Keep Xanthus on +the right side;" said another, "Put a bit on Xanthus;" said another (a +cautious prophet, who never allowed himself to be caught tripping), +"But--if--notwithstanding--nevertheless--such or such a thing occurred +to Bertram--or, _if_ Pax is not what is represented--or, _if_ a +mistake has been made in Marmora's trial--or, _if_ Phosphorus gets off +badly--or, _if_ Kingcraft has entirely lost his old form--or +if, notwithstanding, and nevertheless, with half-a-dozen other +horses--why, _then_, keep your eye on Xanthus; he may be dangerous." +With what zest and animation did Alfred read the words of these +inspiring writers! How attentively he studied their elegant English, +and read their prophecies again and again! They all spoke well of +Kingcraft, but none gave the horse as the absolute winner. Well, but +was not Alfred as good a judge as any of them? Had not the secret been +revealed to him, as it was to Daniel, in a night-vision? But the +course of reading such worshippers as he goes through is of an +intensely distracting nature, and Alfred could not be blind to the +fact that there were other horses that might have a chance. If he only +had some money to back these horses, and to back Kingcraft and Xanthus +to be first, second, or third, in the race, winning would be an +absolute certainty, beyond the possibility of doubt. On Saturday +morning he rushed to the sporting papers, and read dozens of columns +concerning the race. Some of the most respectable and reputable of +these papers gave Xanthus as the winner, coupling him, however, in +most instances, with other horses. Alfred was tortured by doubt--now +thinking this, now that, until his mind was in a whirl of bewilderment +over the miserable affair. Other papers gave other horses as the +certain winners. One said, Pax or Bertram would win; another, Pax or +Bridgwater; another, Bertram or Hector; and so on and so on; and +Alfred had not backed one of these horses. If either of them won, +he was ruined past redemption. But his favourite prophet had to speak +yet; a prophet whose name was in every backer's mouth. On Monday +morning this prophet would unbosom himself, and Alfred determined to +wait till then before he decided his course of action. + +He went by train to his office, and on Monday he read the deliverances +of his favourite prophet as he sat in the railway carriage. The +prophecy recorded, with an appearance of satisfaction, that backers of +certain horses who had made their bets weeks ago had burnt their +fingers, as the horses they had backed would not run in the race. The +horse named Pax, who held the position of first favourite, had been +backed heavily in every part of the country by those connected with +the stable the owner, it was said, having played a waiting game with +his horse, now intended to win a fortune with him. Alfred's prophet +declared he did not believe in Pax, although, after the usual fashion +of prophets, he put in a saving clause in a few words which he could +quote by-and-by, in proof of his own sagacity, in case the horse +should win. He pinned his faith, after much wavering, on Xanthus and +Bertram, chiefly on the former, and in an elaborate and confusing +summing up, declared, in capital letters, that one of these must win, +and that either Kingcraft or Marmora would be certain to be among the +first three. Alfred was much excited by the hopes held out in this +prophecy; and, with some difficulty, obtained from his employers leave +of absence for the following day. He had not been too attentive to his +duties lately, and his employers demurred at first; but he pleaded the +fire that had taken place in Soho, and said that his sister and +grandfather required his assistance to set their new home in order. +"You shall have no cause to complain of me after this," he said +humbly, and received a reluctant assent to absent himself from his +duties. He stopped at the office later than usual that evening, and +was very careful and painstaking in what he did. Early in the morning +he was up and away. He had told Lizzie that he was going to the races, +but had made her promise not to let any one know. Lily and Old Wheels +supposed he was going to his office as usual, and they stood at the +window watching him with smiling faces. Lily kissed her hand to him as +he looked back, and he waved his gaily towards the window, and smiled +brightly. + +"A great change has come over him," said Old Wheels thoughtfully, "for +the better, thank God! It makes you happier, Lily." + +"Yes, dear; and you, too. Things seem brighter and happier than they +did a little while ago. He is coming back to us!" + +She ran down-stairs, and Old Wheels followed her. Alfred was at the +door. + +"I've come back to give you another kiss," he said; "you looked so +pretty standing at the window, that I could not help it." + +"Prettier than Lizzie?" she asked saucily and affectionately. + +"As pretty, I do believe," he replied gaily, and shook hands with Old +Wheels, whose face, notwithstanding its kind expression, had a trace +of seriousness in it. + +"Isn't he good?" asked Lily, as she and Old Wheels stood at the gate. +"Dear Alf! See! He's running into Lizzie's house, and Lizzie's opening +the door for him!" + +"I have had such nice dreams about you," said Lizzie, as she stood in +the passage with Alfred's arm around her. + +He laughed blithely, and took her face between his hand, and kissed +her lips seven times. + +"Because seven's a lucky number, Liz." + +"O that's the reason!" she cried, with a little toss of her head. + +"Yes," he replied merrily, "and not because I love you the least bit +in the world. Here's seven more--and seven more--three times seven." + +And, the charm being complete, he pressed her in his arms again, and +darted away. + +There was something more than idle meaning in his words; in the +excited state of his mind he was impelled to place an important +construction upon every little incident that occurred. It was not +merely an affectionate impulse that caused him to turn back and kiss +Lily again. Something seemed to whisper to him, "If you don't go back, +you will be unlucky to-day;" and if he had resisted the impulse, he +would have fretfully made that the cause of any ill-luck that might +befall him. In the same manner, he kissed Lizzie the number of times +which seemed to him to bear the most fortunate significance. In this +way he strove to make assurance doubly sure, and drew the most +favourable auguries from his attention to these details, connecting +them, with strange sophistry, with the great stake he was about to +play. Once as he walked under a ladder; and the thought occurring to +him that it was an unlucky omen, he retraced his steps, so as to undo +the evil consequences that might result from his act, and walked +outside the ladder the second time, and congratulated himself upon his +wisdom. When he was in the train that was to convey him to Epsom, +he bought the newspapers containing the last outpourings of his +favourite prophet upon the City and Suburban race. He read a glowing +account of the appearance of the course, of "straggling gipsy women +wandering about," of "knots of men in the middle of the road, or +leaning against the public-house corners, talking in quiet and almost +solemn tones, which indicated that they were absorbed in +considerations much more important to them than racing--the means of +living from hand to mouth, of which one sees so much on the turf." He +read how one individual "in the centre of these groups, footsore, +wretched, ragged, and deplorable, had formerly been a tout in highly +prosperous circumstances, and absolutely won close upon £1500 when +Blair Athol won the Derby;" and how this unfortunate man was "exciting +the compassion of his almost equally forlorn companions by narrating +how he had walked, or rather crawled, for weeks by road from +Liverpool, as nigh starving as makes no matter." He read how the +mysterious horse, known as Pax, was conveyed to the scene of action in +high state, in a "private van drawn by four grey horses:" and how his +owner and backers, confident of victory, declared, in racing +phraseology, that the horse would "walk in." This and much more Alfred +read, and then came to the kernel--the prophecy--which stated that +either Pax, Xanthus, Bertram, Kingcraft, or Phosphorus would be +certain to win, and that of the five, Xanthus, Bertram, and Kingcraft +were the three upon which this wise prophet pinned his faith. Alfred +looked round triumphantly. The carriage in which he was seated was +crowded, and the occupants were reading the prophets' predictions in +the newspapers with avidity. Alfred, fingering some crisp bank-notes +in his pocket, soon made up his mind as to his course of action. He +had twenty new £5 bank-notes, and these he would judiciously invest +upon all five of the horses named by his favourite prophet, backing +them all to win and to be in the first three, in such proportions as +to be certain to win. He took pencil and paper from his pocket, and +made his calculations; so much upon one horse, so much upon another, +and so much upon the others, at the current odds. Against one of the +horses named--Phosphorus--he could get as much as forty to one. He +would put £20 upon this horse, so as to gain £800 if the horse won. He +gloried at the thought of it. By the time the train reached Epsom he +had made his calculations, and had determined so to invest that he +could win from a hundred to nearly a thousand pounds. "How happy I +shall be to-night," he thought, "with the money in my pocket! I'll be +at the office early in the morning to make everything straight, +and then----" The perspective that stretched itself out in his +imagination was too delightfully vague for words or distinct thought. +It contained a hazy vista of delight, and in this he basked, and saw +Lizzie and himself, and Lily and Felix perhaps, the happiest of the +happy. + +It was a bright clear morning, and a fresh breeze was blowing over the +Surrey Downs. Gipsies, beggars, thieves, sharpers, and others of that +ilk were about and on the alert, and Alfred moved briskly through them +to the scene of action. Every species of rascaldom was there +represented, and the noble sport afforded a lawful outlet for roguery +in every shape--for roguery in broadcloth as well as roguery in +fustian. There was something hideous in the Babel of sound round the +betting-men, and everything that was degrading in the features which +most prominently presented themselves. The first race was a race +between two horses, and was in no respects interesting. Alfred paid no +attention to it, nor to the two races which followed. He was too busy +"getting his money on" for the great event of the day, which was the +fourth on the card. He staked his money with men whom he considered to +be good--that is, "sufficient," as Shylock has it--and when the bell +rang to announce the appearance of the horses on the course, he had +but five shillings left. But his pockets would soon be filled. His +mind was thronged with intricate calculations, as to how much he would +win if this horse that he had backed came in first and that second, or +that first and this second; as to how much he would win under the most +favourable circumstances, supposing three of his horses came in first, +second, and third. Indeed, he worked himself into a state of belief +that it was certain two of his horses would be first and second; and +if fortune favoured him out and out, he would go home with twelve +hundred pounds in his pocket. Losing was an impossibility. If a shadow +of doubt intruded itself, he banished it instantly by a reference to +his prophet. Twelve hundred pounds! He parcelled it out. So much to +pay Mr. Sheldrake--so much to replace what he had "borrowed" from the +office--so much left. There they were! All the horses were out, and +the course was clear. Such bright colourings of jockeys' caps and +jackets--such grand action from the beautiful creatures they +bestrode--such confident smiles on some of the jockeys' lips--such +eager scrutinising on the part of anxious investors. There was +Kingcraft--there Xanthus--there Bertram--there Phosphorus--there Pax, +that was to bring anything but peace to those who believed in him. +Alfred had no eyes for any others. On these his hopes and salvation +were staked. Away they went--thirty of them in all--in a gay line +to the starting-post; and they pranced, and hung back, or were held +back by astute jockeys, or falsely started, for at least an hour. +Alfred was ablaze with excitement, and was eating his heart away with +impatience. Another false start--another--another. This torture of +suspense was agonising. At last they were off, and Alfred, craning +forward, muttered the names of Lizzie and Lily for luck. Away they +sailed over the hill to Tattenham Corner. In little more than two +minutes the mile and a quarter was compassed, and there came in, +first, Digby Grand; second, Lord Glasgow; third, Hector. Not one of +the prophet's five horses was in the first three, and Alfred had not +backed one of the winning horses for a penny. He put his hand to his +forehead, to clear away the mist; but it gathered upon him thicker and +thicker. He could not distinguish a face in all the throng of persons +around him. A man behind him placed his hand somewhat firmly on +Alfred's shoulder, with the intention of passing him. + +"No, no!" cried Alfred hoarsely, cowering down. But the man passed on, +not heeding him; and Alfred, hiding his face as well as he could, +slunk through the crowd to the rear of the race-course, bearing in his +face and manner the air of a hunted animal, with death on his track. + + + + + CHAPTER XLI. + + ON THE WATCH. + + +When Alfred was clear of the crowd, he paused for a moment, and looked +around with a vacant stare. In that moment his eyes fell upon Mr. +David Sheldrake, who accosted him gaily. Alfred's parched lips moved +in response, but no sound came from them. He thought he had spoken +aloud, however, and his eyes, after the first swift recognition of Mr. +Sheldrake, sought the ground miserably. Mr. Sheldrake made a pretence +of not observing Alfred's uneasiness, and he went on to say airily, +that he had had a slice of good luck in the City and Suburban, and +that he had strolled away from the betting-ring to cool his +excitement. + +"I was looking for you before the race," he said: "I wanted to give +you the tip. I was told by the best jockey of the day that Digby Grand +could not be beaten, and I backed the horse, and I wanted you to back +it also. But perhaps you did." + +He paused for a reply, but Alfred said no word. He was in a stupor of +despair. Mr. Sheldrake continued, + +"You'll be able to square up now, I suppose. I don't care so much for +myself, although, of course, the money will come acceptable, but Con +Staveley swears he'll be down on you to-morrow. He says he'll go to +your place of business, and if you don't pay, he'll split on you to +your employers. That would be serious, wouldn't it? I should advise +you not to have anything more to do with Con; he's a hard nail. How +much have you won? A couple of monkeys at least, I hope. You must let +me into the secret of that new system of yours." + +Still no reply from Alfred. Mr. Sheldrake's tone grew grave. He laid +his hand upon Alfred's arm, and Alfred shivered at the touch, and +feebly endeavoured to shake off the grasp. + +"I must insist upon an answer, Alf. Have you won or lost?" + +"Lost!" muttered Alfred hoarsely. + +"How much?" demanded Mr. Sheldrake. + +"Every shilling I had in the world. Let go my arm." + +"Be still, or I'll set the police on you! Be still, and tell me," said +Mr. Sheldrake with distinct emphasis, "how you are going to replace +the money you have taken from your office?" + +Alfred trembled violently, but did not raise his eyes. + +"You wonder how I know, I daresay," pursued Mr. Sheldrake; "but I know +more than you are aware of. What are you going to do?" + +"I don't know," replied Alfred, and moved away slowly, Mr. Sheldrake +following him thoughtfully. + +They were not the only actors in this the last act of the sad drama. +An old man, whose eyes never left them, was following them watchfully +and warily. A pause of several moments ensued. Then Mr. Sheldrake +said, weighing every word, + +"I don't like to desert an old friend, even when he has behaved +shabbily to me, as you have done. It seems to me that, unless +something is done for you at once, it is all up with you. You daren't +go back to the office until your accounts are squared, and you daren't +go home. The detectives will be on the look out for you. I daresay if +Tickle and Flint could get back a portion of the money you have--we +may as well speak plainly--stolen, they would be inclined to let you +off. I'll see if I can serve you." + +Alfred's white face was raised imploringly at this glimpse of hope. + +"But I must have authority," continued Mr. Sheldrake, "I must have +something to show your people, and to prove to them, if necessary, +that they may trust me. Here--write as I dictate." + +He tore a leaf from his pocket-book, and handed it to Alfred, with a +pencil. + +"Put the date first--that's right; and the place--Epsom. Now write: 'I +am in great trouble and danger, and cannot come home; my friend, Mr. +Sheldrake, is the only man I can trust, and the only man who can save +me. Put full faith and trust in him.--ALFRED.'" + +Alfred, dazed and helpless, wrote the words, and Mr. Sheldrake took +the paper, and placed it in his pocket. + +"I must get back to the ring now," he said, with a friendly nod; "you +know where to find me when you want me." + +With these words he turned away: the old man who had been watching him +and Alfred tried to avoid him, but Mr. Sheldrake had left Alfred very +suddenly, and the old man's movements were not quick enough. Mr. +Sheldrake's sharp eyes lighted upon him instantly. + +"Hallo, Muzzy!" he exclaimed. "What brings you here?" + +"I came to see the race run," said Mr. Musgrave, standing before his +employer in a submissive attitude. "It's my favourite race, and I've +not missed a year. I was at the first City and Suburban in 1851, when +Elthiron won; and the next year, when Butterfly won; and the next, +when Ethelbert ran a dead heat with Pancake. I lost a hatful of money +over Pancake, at the very moment I thought I had made a fortune." + +"It's always the way, Muzzy. You're a regular walking racing calendar! +Did you back the winning horse this time, old man?" + +"No, sir; I had nothing on." + +"Found out the error of your ways, eh? Well, now the race is over, you +can do a little business for me. You see that young fellow," pointing +to Alfred, who was walking away with hanging head. + +Mr. Musgrave shaded his eyes with his hand. + +"My eyes are not so good as they used to be, but I fancy I know him." + +"O, you know him well enough. It's Alfred, Lizzie's young man." + +"Ah, yes; to be sure, to be sure. I recognise him now." + +"Keep your eye on him; watch him; don't let him go out of your sight. +I want to know what he's up to, and where he is going to." + +"I suppose he'll go home to-night," said Mr. Musgrave. + +"I am not so sure of that; and if he doesn't, you must see where he +puts up, and keep near him. I may want him." + +"For what?" + +"What's that to you?" retorted Mr. Sheldrake. "Perhaps he owes me +money, and I don't intend that he shall give me the slip. Perhaps he's +lost on the race and can't pay, and I want to do him a service." + +"For the sake of his pretty sister," suggested Mr. Musgrave humbly. + +"You dog, you!" retorted Mr. Sheldrake, half angrily, half +approvingly. "Whatever it is, it's my business, and not yours. Mind +that, old man. If you don't want to be turned off at a moment's +notice, do as you're told, and ask no questions. And look here, old +man, you know the Myrtle Inn? Well, inquire there the first thing in +the morning for a note. I may have to write to you, to give you +instructions. And if the place is handy, you can put up there +to-night." + +Mr. Musgrave nodded submissively, and crept away in the direction that +Alfred had taken. + +"Mind," said Mr. Sheldrake, overtaking him, "he's not to see you, and +not to know that you are watching him. You can drop me a line +to-night, telling me where he puts up. Here's a sov. to pay ex's." + +Although the old man took the sovereign in silence, his manner did not +seem to please Mr. Sheldrake, who muttered, as he looked at the +slouching figure creeping away, + +"I'd give him the sack if I could; but I must get things straight +first. He knows too much. I'll square up the concern, and get rid of +him this year. I'll have all the books and vouchers moved from Ivy +Cottage this very week." + +While this scene was being enacted, Alfred pursued his sad way. His +great desire was to escape from the crowd, among which probably there +were persons who were acquainted with him. He must get to some place +and among people where he could hide himself and would not be known. +Mr. Sheldrake had rightly said that he dared not show his face at the +office. To-morrow all would be discovered. It had been his unhappy +fortune yesterday to receive an uncrossed cheque, payable to bearer, +in settlement of a large account due to his employers. This cheque he +had cashed, and had used the proceeds in backing the horses of the +false prophet upon whom he had placed all his hopes. This was not the +only money he had used; for some time he had pursued a system of +falsifying the books of the firm, and of appropriating such payments +as would be the least likely to be missed. Discovery was imminent +every day, every hour. All this money had been lost in betting, +and in vainly striving to recover what had gone before. Even in the +midst of his despair he groaned to himself that he had done his best, +that he had tried system after system, prophet after prophet, with the +same result; and that ill-fortune, and not he, was to blame. There was +some special reason for each fresh loss--some special reason +applicable to that case alone, and which could not by any exercise of +forethought have been anticipated or avoided. It brought that smallest +of consolation to him which consists in the reflection that the same +thing would have happened to anybody else placed in his position; but +it brought sharp stings also in the reflection that he might have +known, or ought to have known, that such and such a thing might have +been anticipated, or suspected, or guessed, and the unfortunate result +avoided. No consideration of this description, however, intruded +itself in what had occurred to-day in his speculations on the City and +Suburban race. Here was a prophet, whose name was known to every +betting boy and man in the kingdom, who had actually named five horses +as the winner of the race, and not one of these five horses came in +among the first three. In the eyes of a reasonable being such a +circumstance would be sufficient to stamp this prophet as the veriest +impostor and incapable that ever put pen to paper; and he might feel a +natural indignation that such mischievous utterances should be openly +allowed to lead weak men to acts of folly and crime. Even Alfred, +never given to moralising, caring only for himself, and not one jot +for the public, cursed this false prophet as he staggered over the +Downs, and gave vent to weak imprecations against the man whose cruel +prophecies had brought him to this stage of infamy and disgrace. + +What would they think at home? Would they guess the truth? What would +Lizzie do? He thought mostly of her. If he could get to some new +country with her, where they could commence a new life, what happiness +it would be! If he could undo the past! In the midst of all these +repinings and vain repentances, the terrible thought intruded itself +that there was no escape for him. He had but five shillings in his +pocket; every article of jewellery he possessed had been mortgaged to +raise money to swell the fatal stake he had played this day. The +detectives would soon be after him. Could he disguise himself in any +way, so as to escape detection? His nerves were strung up to such a +high pitch that the slightest unexpected sound was sufficient to +terrify him, and the roar from the distant race-course which +proclaimed that another race had been decided was converted by his +fears into the shouts of pursuers on his track. He quickened his +steps instinctively, preparing for flight, but the next his reason +returned, and he ascribed the shouts to their correct cause. With a +faint smile on his lips, he turned his head in the direction of the +cries, and as he turned he suddenly saw Mr. Musgrave. The sight of the +old man gave Alfred a shock, and the first thought which flashed +through his mind was that the old man had been set to watch him. That +this presumption was the correct one was due, not to Alfred's +perspicacity, but to his fears. In his condition, every face that was +familiar was a face to be suspected. Alfred cast furtive glances at +the old man, who, having seen Alfred's recognition of him, looked +about listlessly in every direction but that in which Alfred was. He +seemed to have come to the spot entirely by accident, and Alfred was +partly thrown off his guard by the old man's manner. "But I will make +sure," thought Alfred, and he set traps, into which the old man +unconsciously fell. Alfred slunk behind a hedge, which was not thick +enough to hide him completely from sight, and remaining there for +fully a quarter of an hour, watched and waited, and when he emerged +into the open plain, the old man was still there, looking about him +with ill-concealed listlessness. "He _is_ watching me!" thought +Alfred, trembling in every limb. "Who set him on? How can I escape?" +He had no thought of addressing the old man to ascertain his purpose. +No cordiality had grown between them during their acquaintanceship; +Alfred knew that in some way Mr. Musgrave was connected in business +with Mr. Sheldrake, and this circumstance was sufficient to convert +the old man into a spy, if not into an enemy. Faint, despairing, and +weary, Alfred stumbled on across the Downs, and stopped at a quiet +inn. The old man was still on his track. Alfred called for brandy, and +tried to eat, but the food almost choked him, and he put it aside, +sick at heart, and drank more brandy. "Can you give me a sheet of +paper and an envelope?" he asked of the girl who served him. She gave +him what he required, and pen and ink as well, and he sat down in the +parlour, looking at the blank paper, and trying to think. A voice at +the bar roused him. It was Mr. Musgrave's voice asking for +refreshments. For a moment Alfred thought of going boldly to the old +man, and appealing to him, for Lizzie's sake; but he dismissed the +thought immediately. "It will be betraying myself," he muttered; "but +I must let Lizzie know. How can I get a letter to her?" He went to the +rear of the inn, and asked an ostler if he knew any one who was going +to London that afternoon. Yes, the ostler said, a man from the yard +was going to London by the next train, which would start in a quarter +of an hour. The ostler pointed out the man to Alfred. Returning to the +parlour, Alfred wrote: + + +"I have been miserably unfortunate to-day, and I dare not come home. I +am at Epsom, and I don't know where to turn for safety. At this very +moment I am being watched by an enemy; you know him well, but I will +not pain you by naming him. I have done you injury enough already, and +I can never, never atone for it. All hope has left me, and I wish my +miserable life were ended. I can only ask you to think kindly of me +and to forgive me. If I did not love you, I should not be as unhappy +as I am. I am afraid to think of the future.--I send this by a +stranger. I want you to get it to-night, and the post would not arrive +in time. No one must know that you have heard from me. God knows what +will happen to me. I have brought shame and disgrace upon all.--A." + + +Alfred enclosed and addressed the letter, and seeing the man going to +the railway station, ran after him, and bargained with him to deliver +the letter for four shillings, which was all the money he possessed. + +"Don't deceive me," said Alfred imploringly. + +"Do you take me for a thief?" was the surly answer. "The young woman +shall have the letter all right. You look as if you've been backing +the wrong horse, young fellow." + +Alfred did not reply, and when the man was out of sight, walked to a +quiet spot, and threw himself on the ground, waiting for night to hide +himself and his despair from the sight of man. + + + + + CHAPTER XLII. + + THE CLOUDS BRIGHTEN FOR LILY. + + +All unconscious of the terrible crisis that was occurring, Lily went +about the house that day as blithe as a bird. Her life seemed to be +brightening, and the shadows that had hung over it appeared to be +clearing away. She ran up and down the stairs, and in and out of the +rooms, singing her old songs. She was in the happiest of moods, and +her grandfather listened with a grateful heart to her fresh voice. He +expressed his delight to Mrs. Podmore, who came down-stairs with +Pollypod, dressed for walking. Mrs. Podmore had a basket on her arm. + +"Lily is like her old self again, Mrs. Podmore," he said. + +"Bless her heart!" exclaimed Mrs. Podmore. "It does one good to hear +her. It's an ill wind that blows nobody good, and the fire has done +Lily the good turn of sending her here, where the air is fresher for +her. Polly likes it, too, don't you?" + +"O, yes, mother," answered the child. + +"So we've got to be thankful even for misfortune," said Mrs. Podmore, +with a half sigh. "It was a hard blow for Jim, though, was that fire. +It'll take us a long time to get over it." + +"How much worse it would have been," said Old Wheels, "if some of us +had been hurt and burnt, instead of our clothes and sticks of +furniture!" + +"Ah, yes, indeed, Mr. Wheels. It's downright wicked to grumble, after +all. But I never shall forget it, never! I shall remember Jim carrying +Polly and me down the rope, to my dying day. Jim's never been himself +since then, Mr. Wheels. I wish he was anything but what he is, and +that he could get a living in a reasonable way, where he wouldn't be +worked to death as he's being worked now. It ain't fair to flesh and +blood, and flesh and blood can't stand it. Dear, dear! here I am +grumbling again! I don't know what's come over me. We're going to +London, Polly and me, to get one or two little things. We sha'n't be +home till night. Can I do anything in town for you, Mr. Wheels?" + +"No, thank you." + +A silence ensued, caused by Lily commencing a verse of a favourite +song, which they paused to hear. + +"She sings like a bird," said Mrs. Podmore; and added, with a meaning +smile, "but there's something else besides fresh air to account for +her lightheartedness. Here's Mr. Felix himself to bear me out in what +I say." + +"And what is that, Mrs. Podmore?" asked Felix, who entered as she +spoke, and heard her last words. + +"Ah, that's a little secret between me and Mr. Wheels," replied Mrs. +Podmore with another smile of much meaning, intended especially for +the old man; "but I've got Jim's dinner in the basket, and I must go +and give it to him." + +"There's another thing to be thankful for, Mrs. Podmore," said Old +Wheels. "Your husband hasn't so far to go home when his work's done as +he had when we lived in Soho. You see how lucky the fire was, after +all, to bring you here to live, so near the station where your husband +works." + +"Well, we know who we've got to thank for it," replied Mrs. Podmore, +with an affectionate look at Felix: "don't we, Polly?" + +And with other grateful words, the mother and child left the house. + +"You have come early to-day, Felix," said Old Wheels; "has any +particular business brought you?" + +Felix, looking both anxious and happy, answered, + +"Yes, sir, one or two very particular things. First, a stroke of good +fortune. Through the influence of my friend Charles, of whom I have +spoken to you, I am appointed London correspondent to a leading +colonial newspaper. By his advice, I sent an initial letter--in my +best style, of course; a regular trap for them," added Felix, with a +light laugh--"and the result is, that I have obtained the appointment. +It adds a hundred pounds a year to my income, and the labour really is +very light." + +"That is good news indeed," said Old Wheels, rubbing his hands; "I +congratulate you heartily on it." + +"I am becoming quite an important person," said Felix, with comic +seriousness, "from a worldly point of view. But there are other +matters I wish to tell you of. I have spoken to you of my father's +housekeeper----" + +"Martha Day?" interposed Old Wheels. "Yes." + +"She has left my father's service suddenly. I do not think I have told +you that Lizzie, Alfred's sweetheart, is related to Martha Day." + +"No; this is the first time I have heard it." + +"It was a matter of no great importance for you to know; but as Martha +has left my father's house, and may be more nearly connected with me, +it is right that you should be acquainted with everything that +concerns me. Martha is with Lizzie at the present moment at Mr. +Musgrave's house. And interrupting myself here, it seems strange to me +that you and Mr. Musgrave should never have met." + +"It is strange," said Old Wheels, after a little pondering; "and now +that you speak of it, it comes to my mind that, on every occasion when +we were expected, in the natural course of things to meet, sudden +business has called Mr. Musgrave away. You are not acquainted with any +reasons why he should avoid me?" + +"No; I know of none." + +"He is eccentric, perhaps; disinclined to make new acquaintances. Some +men are so." + +"He is exceedingly fond of Lily," observed Felix. + +"That makes it all the more strange," said Old Wheels, with a +thoughtful air; "and yet I should not say so. The child would win her +way to any heart. It speaks well for him I am very glad to hear it. +Exceedingly fond of Lily, you say!" He repeated these words, as if he +wished to make some obscure thing clear to his understanding. + +"I think he shows more tenderness towards her than towards his adopted +daughter. It seems to me as if he feels that he cannot be considerate +enough of her. That is Lily singing, is it not?" + +"Yes, the dear child! She is more cheerful than she has been for a +long time past." + +Felix listened, with a pleased expression on his face, and the old man +watched his attitude and manner with a curious mingling of hope and +anxiety. Presently Felix resumed, + +"I am doing nothing but flying off at tangents, and I have so much to +say. About Mr. Musgrave: he and I have had confidential business +together lately. Business, I hope, which will turn out well." + +"Profitable?" + +"Well, not in the common sense of the word; that is, it will not put +money in my pocket; but it will do something better perhaps. You will +hear of it, I daresay, very soon. Now, about Martha Day. Hers is a +strange story. She has lived all her womanly life with my father, as +his housekeeper, and has out of her savings brought Lizzie up, given +her a tolerable education, and supplied her with money. My father, it +appears, knew nothing of this; he supposed that Martha had no family +ties. Lately, however, he has discovered her connection with Lizzie, +and has discovered something else also. Lizzie, it appears, is not +Martha's niece, as I understood: she is her daughter. The story that +Martha tells of an early marriage and of being deserted by her +husband, who enlisted and died in India, my father refuses to believe. +He insisted that Martha should promise not to see Lizzie any more, and +Martha indignantly left his service. She has been with him for a great +many years, and she says that it suited her; that she was fit for +nothing else, and that it supplied her with means to pay for Lizzie's +early training. What memories, what fears, or what fanciful idea that +Lizzie's future would be happier if she were brought up in the belief +that Martha was her aunt, instead of her mother, neither you nor I can +guess. The web of the simplest life seems to me to be made up of +tangled skeins, and one of the highest duties of life consists in +kindly judgment of each other. Martha's life has been one of +sacrifice, and what joy and comfort she has experienced in it have +come from this girl, for whom I have a great esteem." + +"I too, Felix; Lizzie is a good girl." + +"It sounds strange that so simple a circumstance should induce my +father to part with a woman who must have been wonderfully useful to +him; but I think I am to blame for the severance of that connection." + +"In what way?" + +"My father knows of my movements, so Martha tells me; knows of my +friendship for you and your grandchildren, and knows of the tie which +binds Alfred to Lizzie. It is in some way to punish me that he has +provoked this breach; but, indeed, it is no punishment to me, for I +believe and hope that it will turn out for the good of all of us." + +"Is there no hope of a reconciliation with your father, Felix?" + +"None, sir," replied Felix firmly; "our natures are too wide apart. In +all probability, we shall never meet again: both he and I are too +steadfast to our beliefs, which are as the north and the south poles. +It is wonderful by what roads men arrive at totally different +estimates of things! My father will judge me harshly, perhaps, all the +days of his life; but he is my father, and it will best become me to +be silent as to his judgments and motives. I am but a young man, but +it seems to me that my life is clear before me. I do not aspire to +riches. I have one great hope, and if that is fulfilled, I shall be +content to work with others of the world's workers, satisfied with +moderate competence, proud if the track in which I work will enable me +to leave a mark for good behind me. I have flown off at a tangent +again, and must come back to Martha. Looking upon myself as the cause +of her misfortunes, I purpose to set up some sort of a home, in which +she can live in the same capacity as she has done in my father's +house." + +"What does she say to your plan, Felix?" + +"She is delighted with it; but she will say nothing decisive until +after she has talked to Lizzie about it, and until after the result of +my visit here to-day is ascertained. Acting upon my advice, Martha is +telling Lizzie the secret which she has kept all her life, and Lizzie +probably knows by this time that she has a mother. Now, sir, I come to +my one great hope. I have waited until now, when not only my position +is assured, but when another matter which has caused you and Lily much +anxiety--I refer to Alfred's connection with Mr. Sheldrake looks less +hopeless than it has done for some time past. If you guess what it is +I am about to say, will you give me permission to speak more plainly?" + +"Speak, my dear lad," said Old Wheels, trembling with eagerness. + +"It is about Lily----" + +But the old man rose suddenly, and in a tone of deep agitation said, + +"One moment, Felix." + +It was joy at the prospect of his darling's happiness that compelled +him to rise. He stood with averted head, silent for many moments; then +turned, and said, with the tears running down his face, + +"Go on, Felix; go on, my dear boy." + +"I love Lily, sir, and I ask your permission to tell her, and to ask +her to be my wife." + +Old Wheels grasped Felix's hand. + +"God bless you, my dear lad!" he almost sobbed. "These are tears of +joy that you see. How I have prayed for this! But I feared that some +scruple of just feeling--some motive of honour and tenderness, for +which I should not have esteemed you less, Felix; no, not one whit--I +feared that something of this sort might have prevented you from +speaking. The sad day that we met is the happiest of my life. God +bless you, Felix! Go to my darling; go to her, and then come down to +me together, that I may see my dearest desire accomplished." + +Lily, very busy setting things to rights in the house, and very happy +in her work, did not know that Felix had come, until he stood close to +her. She gave a little cry of surprise and pleasure, and then, seeing +something in his face that she had never seen before, stood for an +instant pale and trembling. But her heart was animated by the dawn of +a tender hope. His nature was too earnest to dally at such a time. He +held out his hand, and retaining hers, said, + +"I have come straight from grandfather, Lily." + +And paused, as earnest lovers do who are about to play their great +stake. She stood silent, her hand in his, waiting for him to speak. + +"I have been telling him of some good fortune that has befallen me. I +have obtained another London correspondenceship for a colonial paper, +and I am growing rich. My income is quite three hundred pounds, and +there is a fair prospect before me. I have schemes in my head. One of +these fine days I may put the finishing lines to a book, and by good +luck I may find a publisher who will publish it; or to a play, and by +good luck I may find a manager who will produce it. Whichever it is +may be successful, and another hundred pounds may come in my purse. If +I do not do either, or if I am unsuccessful in the doing, my position +is good enough, and I shall be happy and satisfied, even if it does +not improve very much. But I want a home--a helpmate. And there is but +one woman in the world who can be to me what my heart yearns for. +Lily!" He had released her hand, and she stood before him with +drooping head; the sun was shining behind the bright clouds. "Will you +be my wife?" + +Whether he took her into his arms, or whether she crept into them, +neither knew; but she was there, with her head on his breast, and with +such joy in her heart as seemed to make life too happy. A long silence +followed, a silence that was like a prayer; their feelings were too +deep for words, and when, after a long, long dream, they spoke, their +voices were tremulous. + +"Are you glad, Lily?" + +She nestled closer to him. + +"Lily, my dear, I devote my life to your happiness." + +"And I to yours, Felix." She spoke the words softly and solemnly. + +"So I have two objects in life, and these will be sufficient--my wife +and my work." + +He repeated the words "My wife!" tenderly. She raised her bright face +to his. + +"And I have but one." + +"That is----" + +"Felix." + +His pulses were charged with grateful music as he stooped and kissed +her. + +"Love and Labour would not be a bad motto, Lily, or a bad title for my +book or play. Let us go down to grandfather." + + +"You perceive, sir," said Felix to Old Wheels a quarter of an hour +afterwards, "what my scheming has come to. The first time I saw Lily, +I thought to myself, There is my wife; and I schemed for the result. I +have acted my part very well, I think. Now, will you still dispute my +proposition that every action in our lives is dictated by +selfishness." + +Felix and Lily were sitting hand in hand. + +"I am too happy, Felix," replied Old Wheels, "to dispute anything with +you; you must have everything your own way. I have no doubt that Lily +has made up her mind--as I have made up mine--that you are as +heartless and selfish as it is possible for man to be." + +But a little while after that Lily and Felix were speaking together +more seriously. In the suddenness of her happiness, Lily had lost +sight for a time of Alfred's troubles. Now they recurred to her, and +brought with them the image of Mr. Sheldrake and the memory of his +threats. Felix saw the change that came over her, and guessed the +cause. + +"You are thinking of Alfred," he said. "To-night, when he comes home, +we will take him into our confidence, and coax him to confide freely +in us. I know your love for him, Lily, and you know, my dear, that +nothing that is in my power shall be left undone to release him from +his anxieties." + +Then, without being asked, Lily told Felix all that had passed between +her and Mr. Sheldrake; she told him first of Mr. Sheldrake's +confession of love for her, and how it terrified her; and then, going +back, she told him of their meeting in Bushey Park, and of her seeing +Lizzie for the first time on that day; of the story of Mr. Sheldrake's +goodness that Alfred had related to her (Felix smiled gravely at +this); of the persistent manner in which Mr. Sheldrake had impressed +upon her that it was for her sake, and for her sake only, he was her +brother's friend; of Mr. Sheldrake forcing a partnership upon her on +that day, suggesting that they should enter into a compact to work +together for Alfred's good; and of his saying that when Alfred was +safely through his troubles, he would have no one but Lily to thank +for his release. + +"But since that day," continued Lily, "Alfred has been getting into +deeper and deeper trouble, until a time came--only a little while ago, +Felix--when I was afraid to think of what might occur to him--and to +me," she added in a dreamy tone. A moment after she had uttered the +words a shudder came over her. Felix took her in his arms, and she +clung to him for protection. + +"I feel happy and safe with you, Felix." + +"I understand your feelings towards Alfred, my dear," said Felix +encouragingly; "but I must have my treasure grow strong, and I must +strive to wean her from her dreamy fancies. I shall watch my sensitive +flower very jealously, and she must trust to my judgment wholly. You +have doubts! Why, I have had them! and for a long time have been +afraid to speak. So you see, little weakling, that I, strong as I am, +have shared some of your anxieties with you. I saw you on the day you +went to Hampton Court with Alfred." + +"You, Felix!" + +"Yes, my dear; I was there, watching over you even then, although I +had not the right to do so that I have now." + +"And you would not come to me and speak to me, Felix!" + +"Dearest! I saw that you were happy, and I felt that I might have been +the cause of disturbance, of which Mr. Sheldrake probably would have +been glad to avail himself. So I kept myself in the background." + +"And suffered," she said, wistfully and tenderly; "for you loved me +then, Felix; I know it." + +"Yes, darling. I loved you then. But love often shows itself in +self-sacrifice." + +She paused for a little while before she spoke again. "You said once, +Felix, that there is a higher attribute than love--duty!" + +"How do you know I said that, Lily?" + +"Grandfather told me. Do you believe that duty is a higher quality +than love? That supposing these two stand before us, duty on one side, +love on the other, duty should be followed and love put aside?" + +"Can you not take your answer, Lily, from what I hinted to you on the +night you came from the theatre? Duty _should_ be followed first; much +that is bitter in life it makes sweet. But when love and duty clash, +we should examine ourselves strictly, sternly perhaps, out of justice +for others----" + +"As you did, Felix," she interrupted in loving tones, "when you +restrained yourself from telling me your feelings until to-day. Ah, I +know! Love has made me wise. Now we will not talk of this any more +now; we shall have plenty of time by and by. How I have thought over +every word you said to me that night, Felix!" + +"Every word, Lily!" + +"Yes, every word; you made me very happy!" + +"Darling! But you could not repeat to me what I said." + +"One part I could." + +"I am listening!" + +"You said, it is the dearest privilege of affection to share the +troubles of those we love. If I were married (you said), the first +consoling thought that would arise to my mind, should misfortune +overtake me, would be, 'Thank God, I have one at home who will +sympathise with me, and by her sympathy console me!'" She paused +awhile, and said, "This privilege is mine now, and love and duty can +go together." + +In this way she poured out her full heart to him. His duties called +him away in the afternoon, and he left her, saying he would run down +in the night, at about ten o'clock, for an hour. + +"We will wait supper for you, Felix," said Old Wheels. + +Felix went his way to town, the happiest of the happy. + + + + + CHAPTER XLIII. + + MR. SHELDRAKE MAKES A BOLD MOVE. + + +Tea was over, and Lily and her grandfather were sitting by the fire. +The night without was chilly, although it was now the middle of +spring, and a raw cold wind was blowing. But the room was warm and +cozy, and the occupants were thoroughly happy. Lizzie and Martha Day +had been to see them in the afternoon, and had spent an hour or two +with them. When Lizzie came in, she said simply, "Lily, this is my +mother;" and both received a warm welcome from Old Wheels and his +darling child. Martha's pale face had a flush of happiness in it, and +the sombre effect of her black dress had been lightened by Lizzie, who +had insisted on her mother's wearing one or two pieces of bright +ribbon. Yet, notwithstanding the joy which the disclosure of their +nearer and dearer relationship must have brought to both Lizzie and +Martha Day, uneasy shades of expression rested occasionally on their +features. The cause of this uneasiness in Lizzie seemed to be entirely +within herself, and to be in no way connected with any person present +in the room; but with Martha it was different. It was evident that her +uneasiness was caused in a direct way by something that she saw in her +daughter; and every now and then her eyes would rest on Lizzie's face +with a look of wistful pain. They were not long in the society of +their friends before the news of the engagement between Felix and Lily +was told them; and Lizzie, forgetting for a few moments the great +anxiety which pressed upon her, danced about the room in delight. + +"Next to Alfred," she said, "I love Felix. There is only one other +thing wanting now to complete our happiness." + +She was pressed to tell what that "other thing" was; but she refused +in as light a manner as she could command. That "other thing" was that +Alfred might be lucky that day, and that he might get out of Mr. +Sheldrake's toils. It was hard for her to show a bright face when, as +it seemed to her, Alfred's fate and hers was being decided. Strangely +enough, she also dwelt superstitiously in her thoughts upon the three +times seven kisses Alfred had given her when he parted from her in the +morning. "They will be sure to bring him luck," she had said to +herself a dozen times during the day. She thought of them hopefully +now, and murmured, "To-night all our troubles will be over." A happy +future indeed was spread before them if fortune smiled upon Alfred. +How she longed for night to come, and Alfred with the glad tidings! + +"We'll all live together," she said aloud. + +And Lily nodded and laughed. It was like a bright dream, where +everything that was good in nature was around and about her. The woods +were beautiful with various greens; sweet breezes was stirring the +leaves, and stealing their secrets from them; there was not a dark +cloud in the sky. The two girls crept into a corner, and with their +arms around each other's necks, whispered confidence to each other. +One thing--her most precious secret--Lizzie was burning to tell her +friend; but she restrained herself. She had solemnly promised not to +speak of it until Alfred gave her permission. In the evening, when she +and her mother were at home again, she said she was tired, and she +went to her room to lie down for half an hour. Thither, after a time, +Martha crept, and sat by her daughter's side. Lizzie was murmuring in +her sleep, and although her tones and every word she murmured were +charged with love and tenderness, the sorrowful tears ran down +Martha's face as she heard. + +"Is this a judgment upon me for my neglect and deceit?" she asked of +herself, between her sobs. "I should have looked after her better! I +should have looked after her better!" But when Lizzie awoke, Martha +was careful that her daughter should not see any traces of agitation. +"I will wait until Alfred comes home," she thought, "and then I will +tax him and discover the truth." Everything seemed to depend upon +Alfred's return. + +And now it was night, and Old Wheels and Lily were together in their +room. Old Wheels was reading aloud, and Lily was working. There was no +one else in the house. Mrs. Podmore and little Polly had gone to +London for some bits of clothing which friends had gathered together +for them; they were expected to return by train at about ten o'clock. +Every now and then, Old Wheels paused in his reading, and made a +remark. Lily understood very little of the story the old man was +reading; she was thinking. Scarcely anything but Felix was in her +mind. + +"Mrs. Podmore will be delighted to hear the news," said Old Wheels in +one of the intervals; "although she has been hinting at it +mysteriously from the very first day we saw Felix--when he drove us +home in the waggonette. That's eight o'clock striking. Alfred ought to +be home before now." + +"It's nine o'clock sometimes before he comes home," said Lily; "but I +wish he was here. I want to tell him." + +Old Wheels read, and Lily worked, for another half an hour, and at the +end of that time the old man laid his book aside. + +"I shall have to read all this over again," he said, with pretended +petulance; "I am sure you have not been attending to me." + +"I haven't," she replied, with a happy light in her eyes; "I have been +thinking all the while of Felix." + +"So I've been reading nothing but Felix, Felix, Felix; and you've +heard nothing but Felix, Felix, Felix. Well, well, my darling; I am +more than satisfied. Now, then," he said merrily, "come to the window, +and look out. It is blowing quite cold, dear child. Let me keep you +warm in my arms. Ah, Lily, Lily, now I can die happy when my time +comes. But what am I thinking of? To speak of such a subject at such a +time! Talk of dying, indeed! I intend to live, and to see my darling's +happiness. Ah, God is good!" Then, after a pause, he said, slyly, "But +really this is serious--if it's to be nothing but Felix, Felix, Felix! +Look along the road--what do you see?" + +"Felix," she replied, entering into his humour, and to dispel his +sadness; "he's a long way off though, for he'll not be here for an +hour and a half. But I see him coming." + +"Of course you do. Now look up at the ceiling--what do you see?" + +"Felix." + +"And into the lamp. What do you see?" + +"Felix." + +"And into the fire. What do you see?" + +"Felix." + +"Ah, child!" he said, touching her eyelids gently; "Felix is not on +the road, nor in the room; he is here." + +"No," she replied in the tenderest of tones, taking his hand, and +placing it on her heart; "he is here." + +She was on her knees before the fire, looking into it, and remained so +for many minutes, the old man standing quietly by her side, with his +hand on her shoulder, looking down upon her. "A happier fate awaits +her, thank God!" he thought, "than fell to her mother's lot." + +He sat down in his chair at the thought, and mused on the time gone +by, and thought of Lily's father too, and wondered as to his fate. + +"Strange," he mused, "that one so unstable as he should have been so +faithful to his written promise. Strange that I have never heard of +him since that dreadful time! If he is living now, would it not be a +good thing that he should witness his daughter's happiness? But if the +old vice is in him still!----No, it would be impossible to find him, +and it is better as it is. This is a happy turning-tide for all of +us." + +Nine o'clock struck. Lily started up. + +"I wish Alfred was home," she said impatiently. "I do so want him to +know!" + +"Perhaps he's at Lizzie's," said the old man. "Shall I run round and +see?" + +"Yes, yes," cried Lily, "and tell him to come at once. Let Lizzie come +too, and Mr. Musgrave. Mr. Musgrave is very fond of me, grandfather, +and I like him very much. But want Alfred most." + +She was tying a muffler round the old man's throat, when she suddenly +exclaimed, "It's a shame to let you go; _I'll_ run round, +grandfather." + +"No, child. You will catch cold. And think," he added gaily; "Felix +may come in any moment. I shall not be gone long." + +She listened to his footsteps and to the slamming of the street-door, +and then knelt before the fire again. What a day has this been--never +to be forgotten! the white day of her life! In an hour her hero would +be with her. She rehearsed the scene that had taken place between them +again and again. "I want a home--a helpmate. And there is but one +woman in the world who can be to me what my heart yearns for. +Lily--will you be my wife?" His wife! Why, if all the world were +before her to choose from--if she could fix her own lot, her own +destiny--that is what she would choose to be. Ah, how happy she would +try to make him! A thought of Alfred crept in. Felix would be a good +friend to him--a true friend. How much happier Alfred had been these +last few days! his troubles seemed to be over. His smiling face, as +she had seen it this very morning, when he ran back and kissed her, +appeared in the fire among her other fancies that she conjured up +there. Alfred and Lizzie married--herself and Felix in their little +home----. She saw every room in it, and saw them all smiling at one +another in the fire before which she was kneeling. But why was not +Alfred here now? Swiftly she thought, "He cannot be with Lizzie; for +the first thing Lizzie would tell him about would be about Felix and +me, and Alfred would have run home to me at once." She started to her +feet, and ran nervously to the window; and as she looked out into the +dark roadway, a knock came at the street-door. "That is Alfred!" she +cried, and ran down-stairs; but when she was in the dark passage, she +remembered that the knock was not Alfred's. Alfred always knocked at +the door with a flourish; this that she had heard was a single knock. +It could not be her grandfather, either; for he had a latch-key. +Perhaps it was Mrs. Podmore. The knock came again, and she mustered up +sufficient courage to go to the street-door, and ask who was there. A +strange voice answered her. "Did Mr. Wheels live there?" it asked. +"Yes," she answered. + +"Is his granddaughter at home?" + +"Yes." + +"I want to see her." + +"What for?" + +These questions were asked by Lily through the closed door: she was +alone in the house, and was frightened to draw the lock. + +"What for?" she inquired again, faintly. + +"I can't say, unless I see her." + +"She is speaking to you now; I am she." + +"Is anybody with you?" + +Almost overcome with fear, Lily answered, "No; what do you want me +for?" + +"To give you a letter." + +Lily hesitated still: the voice was that of a stranger, the locality +was somewhat of a lonely one, and her grandfather had warned her not +to open the door at night to any person she did not know, if there was +no man in the house. + +"Wait," she said, "until my grandfather returns. He will be here +presently, and then I will take the letter." + +"Then I can't give it to you, miss," the voice said. "My instructions +are to give it into your hand, and into your hand only, when there is +no one near." + +"Why? What is the letter about?" she asked, in an agony of terror, and +murmuring inly, "O, why doesn't grandfather return?" + +"I don't know what's in the letter. But the gentleman who gave it to +me told me to say, if anything like this occurred, that it was a +matter of life or death to some one that you loved." + +Life or death to some one whom she loved! She hesitated no longer, but +tore open the door, panting. A man, who looked like a common labouring +man, stood in the dusk. + +"I am only carrying out my instructions, miss," he said, touching his +cap. "Here is the letter, and I am to wait for an answer. You can shut +the door while you read it, if you're afraid. I'll wait outside." + +She closed the door, and running like a deer up-stairs into the light, +opened the letter. It was as follows: + + +"My dear Miss Lily,--You must read this letter by yourself, and no +other person must see it or know of it. I would come instead of +writing, but my appearance, and the circumstance of our conversing +privately in your grandfather's house, might excite suspicions. Your +brother cannot come home, and it is probable that his life hangs upon +your prompt action; his safety certainly depends on your secrecy. He +is in the greatest danger. If you love him and wish to save him, come +and see me immediately. I am waiting at the end of the road, at the +corner of the True Blue public-house. The messenger who brings this +will take your message, or will accompany you to where I am waiting +for you. You must decide without one moment's delay. If you resolve +not to come--a contingency I cannot contemplate, knowing you--you may +never see your brother again. In any case, believe me to be your +faithful friend, + + "DAVID SHELDRAKE." + + +There was so much in the note of hidden and terrible danger to the +brother she loved so dearly that, without considering, she ran to her +room for her hat and mantle, and hurried into the street. The +messenger was waiting. + +"Do you know where the gentleman is who gave you this letter?" she +asked breathlessly, as she tied the ribbons of her hat. + +"Yes, miss; he's waiting at the True Blue, and told me to bring you to +him if you asked me." + +"I will come with you. Walk as quick as you can; I'll keep up with +you." + +The messenger, without answering, walked at once at a rapid pace in +the direction of the True Blue, and Lily followed him. The road +was long, and was but dimly lighted. When they arrived at the +meeting-place, Lily was completely out of breath, and her heart beat +so violently that she reeled and would have fallen, but for a friendly +arm held out for her support. She clung to it instinctively, and +looking up the next moment, saw that it was Mr. Sheldrake who had come +to her assistance. He waited in a considerate and respectful attitude +until she had recovered herself, and when she withdrew herself from +his support, did not press his attentions upon her. + +"I am glad you have come," he then said: she was about to speak, but +he anticipated her; "it is a great relief to me. Alfred was not +mistaken in you, nor am I." + +"Where is he?" she asked, in an agitated tone. "What is the matter? +Has any accident happened to him?" + +"No accident has happened to him," replied Mr. Sheldrake gravely. "But +we can scarcely talk here; it is dangerous; the very walls have ears. +There is a private room in this public-house in which we can talk for +a few minutes undisturbed. Nay," he said, in a sad tone, "do not +hesitate at such a time. When we can talk without being observed, I +will instantly convince you that I am not worthy of being suspected." + +"Why cannot we talk here?" + +He looked round cautiously, and lowered his voice. "Because, if any +person overheard us, your brother would be lost. It would be out of +your power then to save him." + +Lily thought of Felix, and hastily glanced through the partially-open +door of the public-house. There was a clock hanging up, and she saw +that it was half-past nine. A comfortable-looking woman was standing +within the bar, and her husband, with his shirt-sleeves tucked up, was +busy serving the customers. + +"There is a private room behind the bar," said Mr. Sheldrake; "that +little parlour with the door open. You can ask for the use of it +yourself, if you like. But I warn you not to delay. Time is precious." + +He spoke in a cold tone, and as if his feelings were deeply wounded by +her suspicions of him. Lily walked into the public-house, followed by +Mr. Sheldrake, and beckoned the landlady aside. + +"Can I have the use of your parlour," she asked, "for a very few +moments, undisturbed, to speak with this gentleman?" + +"Yes, miss," answered the landlady. She knew Lily, and was surprised +at her appearance there. "You can come round this way; no one shall +disturb you." + +Lily and Mr. Sheldrake walked into the little room, and the landlady +closed the door of communication between it and the bar. Lily, +standing near this door, waited in painful suspense for Mr. Sheldrake +to speak. He had noticed that when she entered the room she had moved +timorously towards the door as if for protection, and he experienced a +feeling of mingled anger and mortification, any outward exhibition of +which, however, he successfully repressed. When he spoke he spoke +slowly, as if studying his words. + +"Your behaviour towards me is ungenerous to a degree. At any other +time, and under any other circumstances, I might be disposed to wash +my hands of this affair at once. Notwithstanding the feelings I +entertain for you--do not be alarmed; I am not going to speak of +them--I owe to myself a certain amount of self-respect, and I stand in +danger of forfeiting this, and of placing myself in a false light, by +silent submission to your distrust of me. But"--and here his voice +grew less restrained, and his words were expressed with more +warmth--"I can afford even this renunciation of self-defence, simple +as it is, and unsupported, except by my consistent behaviour towards +yourself and your brother, in the consciousness that what I am doing +is done out of pure disinterested friendship and esteem." + +"For mercy's sake," she implored, "speak more plainly, and tell me for +what purpose you have brought me here." + +"For no purpose of my own; for your brother's sake. It is a matter of +life or death to him." + +She clasped her hands, and could not find words to speak for her +agony. She had never appeared more fascinating in his eyes than she +appeared to him now, as she stood before him in pleading attitude. But +although he was under the spell of this fascination, and although he +knew that she was at his mercy, he was instinctively conscious, bold +and unscrupulous as he was, that he held no power for ill over her. +Her innocence and trustfulness were a stronger armour than any which +cunning and artifice could supply. As he gazed at her in admiration, +he thought how proud he should be of her if she was his, and thought, +too, taking credit for the generosity of the sentiment, that if the +worst came to the worst, he would marry her. + +"Where is the note that I wrote to you?" he asked. + +"Here it is." + +"Had you not better be seated?" he said, as he took the note from her +hand. "You will want all your strength." + +She sank into the chair he handed her, and he, glancing at the note +carelessly, put it into the fire. + +"There must be no chance," he said, when it was destroyed, "of such +evidence falling into strange hands. For your brother's sake." + +"You said in it," she said, in exquisite distress, "that his life--his +life! hangs upon my action." + +"And upon mine; we two can save him. The compact we entered into for +his good can now be carried out. I am ready to perform my part; are +you ready to perform yours?" + +"I will do anything for my brother--anything. But I do not understand +your meaning." + +"Your brother must see you immediately; he will tell you in what way +you are able to save him." + +"I am ready to see him!" she cried; "I want to see him! Where is he! +O, Mr. Sheldrake, if you respect me, let me see him at once." + +"That is my wish, and the reason why I am here. You know that I +respect you--you know that I----" The shudder that seized her warned +him of the indiscretion he was about to commit. "But this is no time +to speak of anything but Alfred. Every moment's delay now may be fatal +to him. What is done must be done at once." + +"Bring him to me, then; I will wait. Bring him to me, but do not +torture me with suspense! Have pity on me!" + +She held out her hands imploringly to him, and he took them in his, +and looked steadily into the pale agitated face. + +"I _do_ sincerely pity you, Lily; my heart bleeds for you. But it is +in your power to avert all this misery. Listen to me calmly. I cannot +bring Alfred to you; he is in hiding, and dare not show himself. I can +take you to him. I have a cab at the door. Come." + +She withdrew her hands from his grasp, and retreated a step or two, +nearer to the door of communication with the bar. He smiled bitterly. + +"Still distrustful!" he exclaimed, with a frown. "Well, be it as you +will. To-morrow, when shame and disgrace are at your door--shame +and disgrace which, by the simplest of acts, you could have +averted--to-morrow, when you learn the miserable fate that has +befallen the brother who loved you so fondly--you may repent what you +have done. But, unjust, and cruel as you are in this, do me then at +least the justice of acknowledging that _I_ did my best--more, I +believe, by heaven! than any other man in my position would have +done--to save both him and you. Good-night." + +He had acted well, and as he turned from her, his heat beat exultantly +at her next words. + +"Stay, for pity's sake! There is no sacrifice that I would not make +for Alfred's sake. He knows it--he knows it!" + +"He believed it, firmly; and he in his turn would be ready to make any +sacrifice for you. I have heard him say so dozens of times." + +"I know, I know. He has been so good to me! But all this is so sudden +and terrible, and I am so much in the dark--with no one to advise +me----" She could not proceed for her tears. + +"I did not think," said Mr. Sheldrake gently and with a touch of +pride, "when I sent for you that any persuasion would be necessary to +induce you to act as your heart must surely prompt. I wished my +disinterested conduct to speak for itself. Knowing my own motives +and the more than good-will to yourself which prompted them, I wished +you to depend upon me, and to trust in me, as you may do implicitly, +believe me. I have in my pocket proof of my sincerity and +faithfulness, but I did not intend to use it. I almost despise myself +now for doing so, but I do it out of pity for you--out of a warmer +feeling which you know I entertain for you." + +He took from his pocket-book the paper which Alfred had written at his +dictation on Epsom Downs. + +"Read this, and decide; for I cannot stop one minute longer." + +Lily read the paper with difficulty; the words blurred in her sight: + + + +"I am in great trouble and danger. My friend, Mr. Sheldrake, is the +only man I can trust, and the only man who can save me. Put full faith +and trust in him.--ALFRED." + + +"Will that satisfy you?" asked Mr. Sheldrake, almost tenderly. "You +know Alfred's handwriting. Will you come and see him now?" + +"Forgive me for my suspicions," said Lily, almost distracted by +conflicting doubts; "I will come with you. But I must send a line to +my grandfather first, explaining my absence." + +"Not explaining," said Mr. Sheldrake, placing writing-materials before +her; "no mention must be made of Alfred or me." + +Lily wrote hurriedly: + + + +"Dear, dear Grandfather,--I am compelled to go away suddenly for a +little while. Do not be anxious about me. I will return soon, and you +will know that I have done right. Tell Felix this; I dare not explain +now.--Your loving child,--LILY." + + +"The messenger who brought my note to you will take it," said Mr. +Sheldrake. "If you can contrive to look less sad--if you could even +smile--as we go out, it might avert suspicion, should any one have +been on the watch." + +They went out of the public-house together, and Lily called a sad +smile to her lips, although her heart was fainting within her at the +prospect of Alfred's danger. The messenger who had brought Mr. +Sheldrake's note was outside, talking to his companions. She hurried +to him, and giving him the paper she had written to her grandfather, +asked him to deliver it, putting sixpence into his hand at the same +time. The next moment she was in the cab. + +"One moment," Mr. Sheldrake said to her hurriedly, "I want to settle +with the landlady." + +He had seen the messenger who was to deliver Lily's note to her +grandfather go into the public-house; Mr. Sheldrake followed him. + +"The young lady has changed her mind," he said to the man; "give me +the letter back. Here is a shilling from her." + +The man delivered up the letter, glad to dispose of it on such good +terms; and Mr. Sheldrake, throwing half-a-crown on the bar, said, +"Give your customers some beer, landlady;" and departed amidst a +chorus of "Thank'ee, sir," from the men standing about inside. + +"Perhaps you'll prefer sitting by yourself," said Mr. Sheldrake to +Lily; "I'll get up outside, and sit by the driver. Keep up your +courage." + +This act of delicacy on his part seemed to assure her. + +"Thank you," she said hurriedly and nervously; "shall we be long?" + +"No; I'll tell the driver to drive quick?" + +He was on the box, and the driver had started when he saw a number of +men running along the road, with alarm on their faces. + +"What's the matter?" he called out to them. + +"An accident on the line," they called out, in answer, as they ran +past towards the railway station. Mr. Sheldrake did not stop to +ascertain its nature, and the cab drove quickly off. + +Meantime Old Wheels made his way to Mr. Musgrave's house. He was +surprised to find, when he arrived there, that all within was dark. He +knocked at the door more than once, and obtaining no reply, walked +round the house, endeavouring to find an explanation for the cause of +the strange desertion. He saw no person, however, and he returned to +the front door. As he stood there irresolute, the same thought came to +his mind that had occurred to Lily; that Lizzie would have been +certain to tell Alfred of the engagement between Felix and Lily, and +that Alfred would have come home immediately to hear all the news +concerning it. "Alfred could not have passed me on the way," he mused; +"I should have been certain to see him. Nor did Lizzie." He could +arrive at no clear understanding of the circumstances, and he was +about to retrace his steps uneasily, when a voice said, + +"Have you knocked, Mr. Wheels?" + +It was Martha Day who spoke. + +"Yes," the old man replied; "but I have received no reply. I have been +here for nearly ten minutes, but I have been unable to make any one +hear." + +"Perhaps Lizzie is asleep. I have been away nearly three hours, +looking after my boxes. I did not intend to come back to-night, but I +could not rest away from my darling. Come round the back way, Mr. +Wheels. Lizzie has shown me where she leaves the key of the back door +sometimes." + +They went to the rear of the house, and Martha found the key. + +"Yes, here it is; I suppose my girl has gone out for a walk. With +Alfred perhaps." + +"I can scarcely think that," the old man said, "the night is so +cheerless." + +"It _is_ cold and dreary, out of doors," assented Martha. + +"I came round to see if Alfred was here. Lily is uneasy because he has +not come home, and she wants him to hear the news about her and +Felix." + +Martha, groping about in the dark for matches, seemed to find +something strange in this, for she said, in an uneasy tone, + +"Alfred not come home, and Lizzie not here!" + +"But perhaps she is asleep, as you said," suggested Old Wheels. + +"I'll see," said Martha, feeling her way to Lizzie's room. "You won't +mind stopping here in the dark a bit." + +As Martha felt her way along the passage and up the stairs, she called +softly, "Lizzie! Lizzie!" But no voice answered her. She went into +Lizzie's bedroom, and felt the bed. Lizzie was not there. She began to +be alarmed. She glided quickly down the stairs again, and going to the +parlour, found the matches, and lit the lamp. Then she called to the +old man. + +"I cannot understand it," she said, as if communing with herself. "Can +Lizzie have been frightened because of what I said to her this +afternoon? O Lizzie! Lizzie! O my darling child!" + +She sat on a chair, and rocked herself to and fro in her distress. + +"Because of what you said to her this afternoon?" questioned Old +Wheels, sharing Martha's distress. "We are all closely connected by +affectionate ties, Mrs. Day. May I ask what you said to her that +causes you to be alarmed now?" + +"No, no!" cried Martha, covering her face with her hands. "You are his +grandfather, and I dare not tell you. But a mother's eyes can see! a +mother's eyes can see!" + +A sudden paleness stole into the old man's face, and his lips +trembled. + +"Is it something connected with Alfred? Nay, answer me; I am an old +man, and I love Lizzie." + +"It would have been better for her," sobbed the unhappy woman, "if she +had never seen him. He has brought shame upon her, and I only am to +blame! I should have watched over her; I should not have left her +alone! O, Lizzie, my darling! come back to me!" + +"If I understand you aright," said the old man, with an aching heart, +"and I am afraid that I do, a new grief is brought upon us by the +unhappy boy--a grief which I never dreamed of, never suspected. I +thought our troubles were coming to an end, and that this day, until +now so bright and so full of hope, was the beginning of a happier life +for all of us. Alas for the errors of youth! God knows I have striven +to do my best, and my duty!" + +He was overwhelmed with sorrow, but the thought of Lily waiting at +home for him aroused him to action. + +"I must get home to my darling," he said, gazing sadly at the bowed +figure of the unhappy mother; "she is alone in the house. Will you +come with me?" + +He took her unresisting hand, and she accompanied him to the +street-door, but she paused there, and said, with a despairing look +around, + +"No, I must go and seek Lizzie--I cannot come." + +"Do you know where she is likely to be?" he asked pityingly. + +"No," she replied helplessly; "I don't know which way to turn. I'll +wait here; perhaps she'll return soon. It will be best for me to +wait." + +He did not urge her farther, but saying he would see her again before +the night was over, he hurried away, leaving her alone with her grief. +His own heart was pierced with keenest sorrow, and he scarcely dared +trust himself to think. + + + + + CHAPTER XLIV. + + A CRISIS. + + +When Old Wheels entered the house, he expected Lily to run down-stairs +to meet him, and he was surprised that he did not hear her voice +welcoming him. Indeed, knowing her nature, he was quite prepared to +find her waiting and watching for him at the street-door, or in the +passage, and he was somewhat disappointed, when he put the key in the +lock and listened, to hear no sound. Notwithstanding that a deep +feeling of sadness was upon him, created by Martha Day's words and +Lizzie's strange absence, the happiness that lay in the assurance that +Lizzie's future was safe was more than sufficient to counterbalance +all depression. When Felix had the right to protect his darling from +the snares by which she had been surrounded--snares which her own +loving nature had strengthened--trouble would weigh lightly upon him. +But he could not shake off the uneasiness caused by the scene through +which he had just passed. It was so strange and inexplicable: Lizzie's +disappearance--for which her mother, who had parted from her but a few +hours before, could not account--Alfred's absence and, added to these, +the circumstance of Mr. Musgrave not being at home, he resolved that +he would not tell Lily. "Let the child enjoy her happiness," he +thought, "Alfred is sure to be home some time to-night." Ascending the +stairs, he entered the sitting-room, and looked around for Lily. She +was not there. "The puss!" he thought, with a smile. "She thinks +Alfred is with me, and she is hiding herself. Lily; Lily!" No sound +broke the silence that followed, as the old man stood, with head +inclined, listening for the response. But the silence seemed to speak, +and his heart turned cold. He looked around again with a vacant eye, +and murmured, more than cried, in a helpless tone, "Lily! Lily!" with +the same result. He wandered into her bedroom, and into every room in +the house, but found no trace of his darling. Then a feeling came upon +him, like the feeling of death, and almost deprived him of +consciousness. But after a little while, by a strong effort of will, +he recovered himself somewhat. "I must think! I must think!" he +murmured; and wrenching his mind from the lethargy of despair which +was stealing over it, he thought over all that had occurred. Presently +a comforting thought came to him: the coincidence of Lizzie being +absent from her house was a sufficient reason for his darling not +being at home. "I have been away longer than Lily expected," he +thought as he descended the stairs towards the street. "Lily grew +anxious, and coming after me met Lizzie, and perhaps Alfred as well. I +must have missed them on the way." In the hope and expectation of +finding both the girls and his grandson there, he retraced his steps +to Lizzie's house; but the place was dark and deserted, and he +obtained no response to his knocks and cries. Even Martha Day was +gone. In greater distress of mind, and with a terrible fear stealing +upon him, which he found it impossible to shake off, he returned to +his own house, and leaving the street-door open, wandered in an +uncertain manner again through every room, searching in the most +unlikely places. He looked about for a note, a line from Lily, to +account for her absence, but not a trace of her writing was to be +seen. Not knowing what to think or do, he stood, helpless, in the +middle of the room, with clasped hands, as if waiting for some sign. +For the space of little more than a minute he stood thus, when a +church bell began to chime the hour of ten, and as the sound fell upon +his ears he heard the street-door pushed softly open, and afterwards a +light step upon the stairs. A sudden rush of tears came to his eyes, +and the feeling of grateful relief he experienced almost overpowered +him. "Thank God! She has come back, and I have been tormenting myself +with foolish fears." But there entered the room, not Lily, but Felix. +He approached the old man with outstretched hand, and looked eagerly +around. + +"Ten o'clock exactly," he said in a cheery tone; "I said I'd be here +at ten. I came by the road, too. Where's Lily?" + +The old man could not find voice to answer the question, and the +agitation expressed in his troubled eyes was reflected instantly in +the eyes of Felix, as in a mirror. For a moment a shadow reflected +upon Felix's hitherto joyful face, like a mist upon a mirror, dimming +its brightness. + +"Where's Lily?" he asked again, hurriedly. + +"You have not met her, then?" asked the old man faintly, in reply. + +The shadow instantly passed away, and Felix's face became bright +again. + +"Seen her! No. Has she gone to meet me? The dear girl! She thought, +perhaps, I was coming by train." + +He was about to leave the room with the intention of running to the +railway-station, when Old Wheels, who had received the suggestion with +a feeling of intense gratitude, convinced that Felix had placed the +right construction upon Lily's absence, called out to him to stop for +a moment. + +"I will go with you, Felix," he said. + +Felix waited at the street-door for him, but before the old man left +the house, he went into Lily's bedroom. He had not thought before of +ascertaining whether Lily's hat and mantle were in their usual place. +They were not there. + +"Of course she has gone to the railway-station," he said to himself, +smiling. "It's so long since I was young that I see everything through +sixty-year-old spectacles. Ah, young hearts, young hearts!" + +His own uneasiness had caused him for the time to lose sight of +Lizzie's strange absence and of Martha Day's agitation; but as Felix +and he walked to the railway-station, they recurred to him, and he +narrated to Felix the history of the events that had occurred within +the last hour. + +"Lizzie gone, and Alfred not come home!" Felix exclaimed in amazement. +"And Martha had no knowledge of Lizzie's movements?" + +"None; she was terribly distressed at Lizzie's disappearance." + +"Tell me. Have you seen Mr. Sheldrake to-day?" + +"No." + +"He would scarcely be in London," mused Felix. "He would be certain to +go to Epsom and see the City and Suburban run." Then to the old man, +"And Alfred went to the office this morning at his usual hour, you +say?" + +"Surely; and was brighter than I have seen him for many a day." + +Notwithstanding these apparently satisfactory answers concerning +Alfred, Felix found food for grave reflection in the information but +the occurrence of other events prevented him from dwelling too deeply +upon what he had been told. As they approached the railway-station +they saw a number of persons hurrying thither, and some coming from +it, with looks of haste and alarm. Felix was about to inquire the +cause of this--for there was something unusual in the commotion, and +it was evident that an incident out of the common had occurred--when +the very man of whom he was about to inquire seized his arm and asked +if he was a doctor. + +"No," replied Felix; "why do you ask?" + +"There's been an accident on the line," said the man as he hastened +away. + +"Jim Podmore is employed at this station," said Felix to Old Wheels, +quickening his steps as he spoke. "Let's get there quickly." + +He was thinking of Lily, and of her alarm, if she happened to be at +the station at the time of the accident. And upon the shock of this +news, and of its probably evil consequences to his humble friends, +came a dim presage of ill which increased his excitement. Suddenly he +paused, and said to the old man, + +"One moment--only a moment--for reflection." + +And in scarcely more than that space of time he became composed. He +had resolutely shaken off all signs of agitation, and he was now cool +and collected. + +"It has occurred twice in my life," he said, rapidly and distinctly, +"to be placed in a position of great peril, where a moment's haste, or +a single false step, might have been attended with a fatal result. +At the exact instant it was required, I have recovered the +self-possession I had lost, and thereby have been enabled to escape +the danger. This same feeling has come upon me within this last minute +or two. Do not interrupt me, but hear me out, and act as I desire." He +paused to recover his breath. "So many strange things have taken place +to-night that I cannot overcome the impression that something of +serious moment to persons whom we love has occurred, or may occur. If +it be so--and I am convinced that my feeling springs from something +more than mere nervousness--only calm reflection and steady action +will help us. Lily may not be here; she may have arrived home in our +absence, and will be alarmed that there is no one there to receive her +Nay, she will not be able to get into the house. If she goes round to +Lizzie's house, she will find no one there. Do you see what I mean? We +are wasting our forces. Two men are doing the work of one. Hurry home +as quickly as you can. If Lily is there, wait with her until I come; +or she may return while you are waiting. If she is at the station, I +will return with her as soon as possible. Under any circumstances, we +are wrong in leaving the house alone. And mind," he concluded, with a +detaining grasp on the old man's arm, "whether Lily is at home or not, +or whether she come or not, do not stir from the house until I +arrive." + +The old man comprehended the wisdom of the arrangement, and saying +hurriedly, "I will act exactly as you desire, Felix," walked back +towards his house. + +Felix then ran to the station, and with some little trouble obtained +permission to the platform. There he found everything in confusion. A +train had run off the line, and the rails were torn up. + +"Is anybody hurt?" he asked, in a tone of authority. + +"Only a child, fortunately; but she seems to be hurt rather badly. +There were not many persons in the train." + +"Whose fault was it?" + +"The pointsman's, they say. He was half asleep when the accident +occurred--the lazy scamp!" + +"The pointsman!" exclaimed Felix. "That's Mr. Podmore!" + +"I don't know his name, I'm sure," the man replied--it was a passenger +who had answered Felix's questions--"but whatever it is, he ought to +be made an example of, and I hope he will be." + +A man employed at the station, who had heard the last question, said, +as he passed, "Yes, it's Podmore's doing, this time." + +Felix's first anxiety was for Lily, but he could not see her. He made +his way into the waiting-room, and saw, in the centre of a little +group, a child lying as if dead in the lap of a weeping woman. He +darted forward. + +"Good God!" he cried, as he leant over the sad couple. "It's little +Polly!" + +The weeping woman looked up into his face, and recognised him through +her fast-flowing tears. + +"She won't want any more dolls," she sobbed, with a gasp between each +word. "My Polly! my darling! she's dead! she's dead! O Polly, my +blessed, why was not I killed too!" + +The piteous words cut Felix's heart and made it bleed. He laid his +hand commiseratingly upon Mrs. Podmore's shoulder. + +"Thank you, sir," she sobbed; "thank you. You never thought to see +Polly like this, did you? O, why don't the doctor come! Will no one +bring a doctor? Look after Jim, sir, for the love of God, and comfort +him if you can." + +Felix turned, and saw Jim Podmore, standing, with clenched hands and +writhing form, apart from the group, and with so strong an agony in +his face that Felix stepped swiftly to the side of the suffering man. + +"Don't touch me!" cried Jim Podmore hoarsely, shrinking from the +contact. "Don't lay a finger on me! I ain't safe to be touched or +talked to. I've killed my child! I've killed what's dearer to me than +life, and I want judgment to fall upon me!" + +His looks were so wild that Felix feared for his reason; and knowing +that it would do the man good to give vent to his grief, said in a +gentle tone, + +"You know me, Mr. Podmore? I'm your friend--Felix." + +Jim Podmore softened at the sound of the friendly voice. He turned his +face from Felix, and said: + +"Ah, sir, she loved you, my Polly did! Your name was always on her +tongue; and it was only this morning she told me of the new doll you +promised her. She said you had another ship come home. She didn't +know, when she cuddled me in bed afore I went to work, that I meant to +kill her before the day was out. 'And when's your ship coming home, +father?' she asked me; 'and when's your ship coming home, father?' +Good Lord, help me! My ship's come home to-night, and my pet's laying +dead afore my eyes! What right have I to stand here a living man, with +that sight afore me?" + +A man--a fellow-workman--was coming towards Jim with somewhat of a +rough manner, when Felix gently put him aside. + +"Let him be," Felix said; "let him have his talk out. It will do him +good. He knows that I'm his friend, and he doesn't mind pouring out +his grief to me. There's no one else hurt, I hope?" + +"No, one else, sir," said the man respectfully. + +"Thank God for that! Keep the people away from us; if you can." + +Felix had drawn Jim out of the waiting-room; but although Jim could +see neither his wife nor child, he spoke of Polly as if she were lying +before him. + +"Says my pet, a-laying there afore my eyes, as we was a-cuddling one +another, 'Felix has got another ship come home, father, and there's a +doll in it for Polly. There's a doll in it for Polly,' she says. She +went all through with it, as she's done dozens o' times afore; and she +says, with her eyes shut, 'Here's the ship a-sailing, a-sailing, and +here's the waves a-curling, a-curling'--she knew it by heart, sir, +every word of it--'and here's the captain a-bowing, a-bowing.' And +then she shuts her eyes tighter, and says, for all the world as if she +was in a dream, 'And here's the stars a-shining, a-shining.' Is my pet +that's a-laying before my eyes in a dream now, and can she see the +stars a-shining, a-shining?" + +A voice only a few yards away said, + +"Here's the doctor. Move away, and let the child have some air." + +The words reached Felix's ears; but Jim Podmore was deaf to everything +but his grief and despair. + +"Whose fault was it? I heard some ask. Whose fault? _Was_ it mine, +when I was that dead-beat with long hours and overwork that I couldn't +keep my eyelids open? And I didn't know my pet was in the train. I +thought mother and her was home long ago. But I know'd it'd come to +this--I've feared it for months and months. If it wasn't to-night, +it'd come some other time. But I shouldn't ha' minded then, for I +shouldn't ha' killed my pet. Ah, Snap, if I'd only ha' known! There +was him a-pulling at my trousers with his teeth, and I never +understood him a bit--not a bit." + +Felix looked down, and saw the faithful dog standing at some little +distance, watching its master with sympathetic eyes. It seemed to +Felix as if it knew that something serious had occurred. Jim Podmore +was somewhat calmer now, and seated himself on a bench, and rocked +himself to and fro, with his head in his hands. + +"Don't move for a minute," said Felix. "I want to go into the room to +hear what the doctor says. You'll promise not to move till I come +back?" + +Jim, by a motion of his shoulders, gave the promise, and Felix went +into the waiting-room. The people made way for him, and, to Felix's +inexpressible relief, he heard the doctor's voice saying cheerily, + +"There, there; it's not so bad after all! No bones broke. Shook a +little--that's all. Killed! not at all, thank God!" + +And "Thank God! thank God!" came from a dozen lips, and a ray of hope +shot into Mrs. Podmore's white face. + +"The little thing will live to be an old woman, please God," the +doctor continued. "Now don't be a foolish mother." Mrs. Podmore had +taken his hand and kissed it.--"You must be a wise and steady mother; +and if you don't at once stop crying like that, I declare you'll do +your little girl a deal of harm." Mrs. Podmore instantly suppressed +her sobs.--"Pretty little thing! See, she is recovering already!" + +Pollypod opened her eyes, and raised her arms to her mother's neck. +Mrs. Podmore was about to clasp the child to her breast in the +overflow of her joy; but the doctor restrained her. + +"No, not like that. Take her in your arms gently. Do you live far from +here? No--that's right, that's right. I'll go home with you, and will +see the little girl comfortably in bed.--You feel all right, don't +you, little one?" + +Pollypod answered "Yes, sir," in a weak voice; and seeing Felix, her +eyes brightened, and she held out her hand to him. Mrs. Podmore +whispered, + +"Tell my husband, sir, and bring him to me." + +Felix hastened to comply. Jim Podmore could not easily be made to +understand that his precious Pollypod was comparatively unhurt; but +when he did so, his grateful emotion impressed Felix deeply. + +"I've lost my situation, sir; but I sha'n't mind that now. I'll try +and get a living in a fairer way than this." + +"And I'll help you," said Felix; "but tell me, before you join your +wife, have you seen anything of Lily on the platform to-night?" + +Jim Podmore considered for a moment, and passed his hands across his +eyes to clear away the clouds. + +"My memory's almost gone, sir, for everything but this. Yet I think I +should ha' remembered seeing Lily if she'd been here. No, sir; I +haven't seen her; but that ain't saying she ain't been here. The +nearest thing to it is the up-train from Epsom." + +"The up-train from Epsom!" echoed Felix, not seeing the connection. + +"It stopped here; and one of our porters got a shilling from a +passenger for taking a letter to Miss Lizzie--Master Alfred's +sweetheart, sir." + +Felix gave a start, but knew that it would be cruel to detain Jim any +longer from his wife and child. The last thing he saw before he left +the station on his way to Old Wheels was Jim Podmore lifting Polly +tenderly in his arms. + +Old Wheels was waiting at the street door for Felix's return in a +state of intense anxiety; and when he saw Felix coming along by +himself, his anxiety was redoubled. Felix knew immediately, by the +expression in the old man's face, that Lily had not come home. + +"No news of Lily, sir?" he asked, as he drew the old man into the +house. + +"None, Felix. And you?" + +"She has not been seen at the railway station." + +It was necessary that he should tell Old Wheels of the accident caused +by Jim Podmore; and he did so in as few words as possible. + +"I am glad that little Polly is not seriously hurt," said Old +Wheels--"very, very glad. But I am in dreadful anxiety about Lily." + +"I too, sir. She is our first and only care. You have no theory to +account for her absence?" + +"None, Felix." + +"Her hat and cloak are gone," said Felix, following out a train of +thought as he spoke. "That is a proof that she went from the house +with deliberate intentions. We must not rest until we find her--that's +understood." + +"Yes, yes, Felix; go on." + +"The first thing to ascertain is if anybody is at home at Mr. +Musgrave's house. I will run round and see." + +Felix returned in a very short time. + +"No one is there; the house is quite deserted. There is some +connection between Lily's absence and theirs. The only thing I cannot +understand is that Lily did not leave a line of writing behind, in +explanation. She knows what deep anxiety her absence would cause." + +"Felix," said the old man, in a low tone, "can there have been some +foul play?" + +Felix did not reply for a few moments; he was mentally busy deciding +on the best course of action. + +"If there is, we will find it out, depend upon it, sir. I have a clue. +I learnt at the station that a passenger from Epsom gave a porter a +shilling to take a letter to Lizzie. That letter either came from +Alfred or Mr. Musgrave, and upon the receipt of that letter Lizzie has +disappeared." + +"It could not have come from Alfred," interposed Old Wheels; "he was +at his office." + +"We must be sure of that. I have my suspicions that he did not go to +work to-day. Now, sir, you must still be content to remain quiet, +while I ride to London. I shall have no difficulty in obtaining the +fastest horse from the stables near here." + +"What is your object in going to London, Felix?" asked the old man, +gaining confidence from Felix's firm tone. + +"I am acquainted with a person employed in Alfred's office. I can +obtain from him the information whether Alfred has been at his work +to-day. Without that information, we might take a false step; with it +(if it be as I suspect) I think I see part of my way. I shall be back +sooner than you expect. I am a good rider, and I shall not spare my +horse on such an errand." + +Felix made good use of his time. It was barely half-past twelve +o'clock as he ran upstairs to Old Wheels, flushed with the exercise. +He cast a sharp glance around, and Old Wheels, shook his head, saying, + +"No, Felix, she has not returned." + +"I was right in my suspicions, sir. Alfred has not been at his office +to-day. He asked for leave of absence on the plea that you required +his assistance at home." + +"Where can he have spent his time, then?" + +"At Epsom. A great race called the City and Suburban was run to-day, +and Alfred has been betting on that race, and has lost. Now, sir, can +you bear a shock?" + +Old Wheels waited in trembling suspense. "A greater one than has +already fallen?" he murmured. + +"As great, almost," replied Felix gravely; "but it is necessary that +you should know. From what I have heard to-night, I suspect Alfred has +been using money that does not belong to him." + +Old Wheels covered his face with his hands, and sobbed quietly. Felix +continued steadily, + +"My acquaintance, who is employed in Messrs. Tickle an Flint's office, +was desired this afternoon by one of his employers to tell Alfred to +step into the private office immediately he arrived to-morrow morning, +and my acquaintance told me that, from the tone in which the message +was delivered, he believed, something serious had transpired. Can you +see the connection between these things, and Lily's connection with +them Alfred, having lost in the race money that did not belong to him, +is afraid to show his face at the office, is afraid to come home.. A +letter arrived for Lizzie from Epsom; that letter is written by him, +and tells her probably of the danger he is in. Lizzie disappears +without warning, without leaving word or message behind her. Why? She +is afraid of compromising Alfred. Where has Lizzie gone to? The letter +she received from Alfred guided her steps without doubt. Do you agree +with me that we have now accounted for Alfred's and Lizzie's absence?" + +"Yes, but how do you connect Lily with these movements? Remember, that +when I left Lily in the house, at half-past nine o'clock, neither she +nor I had any suspicion of these occurrences. We thought Lizzie was at +her house; we expected Alfred's arrival home every moment. Before that +time Lizzie must have received the letter from Alfred, and must have +gone to join him. Where?" + +"There is the difficult point, sir. If we could ascertain where Lizzie +has gone, and how, it would be a most important point. The only +livery-stable near is the one from which I hired the horse to go to +London." And here Felix stamped his foot, and exclaimed excitedly, +"Fool that I was, not to have made inquiries there! We must go there +at once, you and I. You may be of use. There will be no sleep for +either of us to-night." + +Before they left the house, they went up-stairs to the Podmores, to +see how Polly was, and to leave a message with Mrs. Podmore, in the +unlikely contingency of Lily returning in their absence. Polly was +asleep, and mother and father were watching by her bedside. Snap +licked Felix's hand as he stooped to pat the dog's head. + +"Snap knows what a friend you are to us," said Mrs. Podmore in a +whisper; "but you seem in trouble. Has Lily gone to bed?" + +She was soon made acquainted with their trouble, and promised +obedience to Felix's instructions. + +"I don't suppose either Jim or me will close our eyes this night," she +said; "but one of us will be sure to be on the watch. If Lily comes +back while you are away, we'll keep her here until you return." + +Felix hastily wrote a few lines to Lily, and intrusting them to Mrs. +Podmore, kissed Pollypod tenderly. + +"You have much to be grateful for," he said to Mrs. Podmore. + +"Ah, sir, we have indeed!" she answered. "God bless you, and send you +success and happiness!" + +Felix and Old Wheels shook hands with Jim Podmore, and were soon at +the livery-stables. There was only one man there, and they had some +difficulty in arousing him. He referred to the books, and said that no +lady had engaged anything from the yard that night. + +"Two saddle-horses have been taken out since seven o'clock," said the +man, with his eye on the page on which the record was made; "a +brougham and pair for a customer" (mentioning his name, which +satisfied Felix that it could not be for Lizzie), "and a cab." + +"Who hired the cab?" + +"Can't say. One of our men, Thompson by name, has gone with it. Hired +by a gentleman; ten pounds left as deposit." + +"How long was it hired for?" + +"Can't say, sir; all night, most likely. Thompson is generally +selected for the long jobs. You know Thompson, sir?" + +"No, I do not." + +"He is a tallish man, with his nose on one side, and a hare-lip: wears +an old white overcoat. Now I think of it, I saw him and the cab +waiting at the door of the True Blue public-house." + +"Ah!" exclaimed Felix briskly. "At what time?" + +"About half-past nine, I should say. I happened to be passing just +then, and now I think of it, Thompson and me had a drink." + +"Thank you," said Felix, with sudden animation. "Here's something to +get another drink with. Is the True Blue a late house?" + +"Got a one-o'clock license, sir. Thank you, sir." + +"It's ten minutes to one," said Felix, looking at his watch. "Come +along, Mr. Wheels; we shall get there before the house closes." + +And he ran out of the livery-yard, followed by Old Wheels. Lounging +about the bar of the True Blue they found the usual class of +customers, who were being urged by the landlord to leave, as the time +was come to close the house. The potman was busy with shutters and +bolts; behind the bar was the landlady. She knew Old Wheels, and she +nodded to him. Felix was a stranger to her, but she cast a favourable +eye upon him nevertheless. + +"Can we have one minute's private conversation with you?" asked Felix. +"And there is time, isn't there, for us to drink a glass or two of +your best dry sherry?" + +The landlady glanced at the clock, as a matter of form--it was five +minutes to one--and said: + +"Would you like to step into our little room, gentlemen; you'll find +it more comfortable?--Now, turn out, my men, if you don't want to be +put out!" + +That it would certainly come to this with some of the customers of the +True Blue was evident: one man was especially loth to go. + +"Just another pint, missis," he urged, "just another pint, and then +we'll toddle." In a tone of such entreaty that to one unacquainted +with the usual proceedings of such topers, it might reasonably have +been inferred that his very life depended upon that other pint, and +that the most serious consequences to his health would ensue if it +were refused. The landlady paid no attention to the entreaty, but +devoted herself to Felix and Old Wheels, who had stepped into the +parlour at her invitation. Seeing that she only set two glasses before +them, Felix called for two more, and hoped that the landlady and her +husband would join them. He completed the conquest by drinking +prosperity to the True Blue, and then proceeded to business. + +"We have come to consult you upon a matter of much importance, my dear +madam," he said; "and we hope you will give us what assistance you +can." + +"Anything that is in my power, sir," replied the landlady, flattered +by the courtesy of so well-looking a young man as Felix; "I am sure I +shall be most happy." + +"We do not wish it talked about," continued Felix; "so suppose we +agree that it shall be a secret between us, taking your husband into +our confidence, of course." + +The landlady expressed her acquiescence, her curiosity growing. + +"It will take the form of questions, I am afraid," observed Felix. + +"You've only to ask, sir," said the amiable woman; "and I'll answer, +if I can." + +"There was a cab waiting at your door at about half-past nine o'clock +to-night, was there not?" + +"There have been three or four waiting, on and off." + +"But there was one in particular, from the livery-stables near here, +with the driver Thompson, a man with a crooked nose and a hare-lip. He +came in here to drink with a mate from the yard." + +"Yes, he did," was the ready reply. "There's no mistaking Thompson, +once you set eyes upon him." + +"Can you tell us who hired that cab?" + +"I should say it was the gentleman who was about the house for an hour +or more, and who was in this parlour for more than ten minutes talking +with--with----" But her eyes lighted upon Old Wheels, who was +listening with strained attention to every word that passed, and she +hesitated. + +"Talking with whom?" inquired Felix quickly. "With a gentleman?" + +"No," with another hesitating look towards Old Wheels; "with a lady." + +"A young lady?" + +"Yes." + +"Do not hesitate to answer, there's a good creature. You know who the +lady is, evidently." + +"Yes; but I would rather not say. If you like to mention who you think +it is, I'll tell you, if you're right." + +"Was it this gentleman's granddaughter?" asked Felix, hazarding the +guess. + +Old Wheels held his breath. + +"Yes, it was," answered the landlady, reluctantly. "There! you +shouldn't have forced it out of me! Look at the old gentleman!" + +A deadly pallor had come over his face, and he could scarcely stand. + +"You must not give way, sir," said Felix, with grave tenderness; +"everything depends upon your keeping your strength. Bear in mind that +this is what we have come to hear, and that we are approaching nearer +and nearer to the unravelling of the plot. And remember, too, dear +sir, that I have almost as great a stake in the discovery as you have +yourself. There _has_ been foul play, as you suggested; but something +assures me that all will come right, and that our dear girl will +be restored to us is a few hours. But not if we're not strong. +Remember--we are working together for Lily's safety." + +His tone was so tender that tears came into the landlady's eyes. + +"I will tell you all I know," she said, addressing herself to Felix. +"The young lady came in here, and asked me if she could have the use +of the parlour for a few minutes, undisturbed. She wanted to speak to +the gentleman who came in the cab. They were in the parlour for ten +minutes, then they went away together in the cab." + +"Thank you, thank you, a thousand times. See, sir, how near we are +coming; Now, this gentleman--who was he?" + +"I am sure I don't know, sir; I never set eyes on him before +to-night." + +Felix thought of Alfred, and described his personal appearance. No, it +wasn't him, said the landlady. Then Felix described Mr. Sheldrake, and +she answered that it was the very man. + +Felix drew a long breath; he was almost at the end of the inquiry. One +other question remained to be asked. Did she know what direction the +cab had taken? No, she didn't know; but she would call the potman in; +he was outside all the time. The potman was called in, and being +refreshed with a drink and a shilling, remembered, after much +circumlocution, that he heard the gentleman tell Thompson to drive +towards Epsom. + +"Nearer and nearer," said Felix, grasping the old man's hand. "Now, +potman, is there anything else you know. Another shilling, if you can +remember anything else." + +The potman scratched his head. + +"There's the shilling," said Felix, in a hearty tone, giving the man +the coin, "whether you can remember or not." + +"You're a gentleman, sir," said the potman; "_I_ don't remember +anything else; but there's Dick Maclean, perhaps he can tell +something." + +The public-house was empty at this time, and the bar was cleared. + +"Run out, Tom," said the landlady, excitedly, "and if you see him +bring him in." The potman ran out at the back door. The landlady +explained. "Dick has been drinking here all night, sir. You bring to +my mind that I saw the gentleman who was here with the young lady give +him some money." + +They had not to wait a very long time for Dick Maclean. He was the man +who had begged for more beer, and the potman found him outside +entreating through the keyhole for "just another pint." He was fairly +drunk, but upon the landlady promising him that other pint, and +telling him that the gentleman wanted him to earn half-a-crown simply +by answering a question or two, he pulled himself together, and +endeavoured to earn it. The skilful manner in which Felix put these +questions caused the landlady to ask admiringly if he was a lawyer. +Felix stopped his questioning to answer, "No;" and the landlady said, +To be sure! How could he be? He wasn't dried-up enough. When the +cross-examination was over, they had learnt all. Of Mr. Sheldrake +giving Dick Maclean a letter to take to Lily, and of the instruction +that he was to give it to the young lady in secret, and to tell her, +if he found any difficulty in delivering it, that it was a matter of +life or death to some one whom she loved; of the young lady +accompanying him to the True Blue to see Mr. Sheldrake; of their going +into the public-house together; of their coming out together; of the +young lady giving him a letter to deliver to Mr. Wheels, and giving +him a sixpence to deliver it; of her getting into the cab, and of his +going into the True Blue for just another pint before he went with the +letter; of Mr. Sheldrake coming after him, and telling him that the +young lady had altered her mind, and didn't want the letter delivered; +of his getting a shilling for _that_; and that was all. + +It was enough. It was as clear as day to Felix. The potman and Dick +being sent out of the room, Felix said that what they wanted now was +a light trap and a smart horse. Now thoroughly enthusiastic in the +cause, the landlady said they had in their stables the lightest trap +and the smartest trotting mare out of London. + +"You're a kind creature," said Felix, shaking hands with her. "Will +you trust us with it?" + +That she would, and with a dozen of them, if she had them. The +landlord assented. + +"Now what shall I leave with you as security?" asked Felix. "Here are +four five-pound notes, here is my watch and chain----" + +The landlady rejected them enthusiastically. She only wanted two +things as security--his name and his word. He gave them, and thanked +her heartily again and again. While the smartest trotting mare out of +London was being harnessed, Old Wheels looked at Felix, wistfully, +earnestly, humbly. Felix understood him. He put his arm round the old +man's shoulder, and said, in a tone of infinite tenderness, + +"Dear sir, I never loved Lily as I love her now. I never trusted her +as I trust her now. Dear girl! Pure heart! When I lose my faith in +her, may I lose my hope of a better life than this!" + +His face lighted up as he uttered these words. The old man pressed him +in his arms, and sobbed upon his shoulder. The landlady turned aside +to have a quiet cry in the corner. + +"You're a good young fellow," she said, in the midst of her +indulgence, "and I'm glad you came to me." + +Before five minutes had passed, they were in the lightest trap and +behind the smartest trotting mare out of London, ready to start. + +"Here!" cried the landlady. And running to the wheels, she handed up a +great parcel of sandwiches and a bottle of brandy. "It's the right +stuff," she said, between laughing and crying. "Our own particular!" + +The next minute they were on the road to Epsom. + + + + + CHAPTER XLV. + + HOW MR. SHELDRAKE PLAYS HIS GAME. + + +Mr. David Sheldrake was a cool calculating rogue, and was by no means +of a sufficiently romantic or daring turn to plan and to carry out an +abduction. If Lily had decided not to accompany him, he would, with an +ill grace, have abided by her decision. The qualities of his mind +were pretty evenly balanced, and he had no intention of placing +himself in danger. What Lily did she did deliberately, and with her +own free-will, and every move in the little game that he had played +was testimony in his favour. Lily had come to him, had made it appear, +by asking the landlady of the True Blue for the use of her parlour, +that it was she who desired to confer privately with him, had smiled +when she left the public house, and had voluntarily entered the cab +which was conveying them along the Epsom road. He could prove that he +had been a friend to her brother, and, according to the logic of +figures, a heavy loser by him; he could prove that he had been on +intimate terms with Lily, and that she had accepted favours from him. +So far all was well. But, going a point farther, Mr. Sheldrake, +carefully considering the position as the cab drove along, was +puzzled. He had not definitely settled upon the next step. He had, +in a vague manner, decided that to bring the brother and sister +together--to make Lily clearly understand the desperate position in +which Alfred was placed--and then to say to her, "And I am the only +man that can save your brother"--would be a fine thing for him. +Setting aside the dramatic effect of the situation (Mr. Sheldrake, +having an eye for dramatic effect, had thought of that), it would +undoubtedly place him in a good light. But then, on what terms would +he consent to save her brother? It was at this point he paused, and +said to himself that he must consider seriously what was the best +thing he could do; and while he was considering he heard Lily's voice +calling to him. He bade the driver stop, and he alighted and went to +the cab-door. + +"Have we much farther to go, Mr. Sheldrake?" she asked, in a weak +imploring tone. + +"No, not a great way." + +"I thought we should have been in London before now; but the road is +strange to me; I do not recognise it." + +"It is the road to Epsom," he explained. "I told you, if you remember, +that your brother could not come home." + +"Yes; but I thought you meant he could not come from London; he went +straight to his office from us this morning." + +"No, he did not, Lily; he went to the Epsom races." + +She uttered a sharp cry of pain. + +"O, why could he not have confided in me? Why did he deceive us?" + +"I supposed you knew," said Mr. Sheldrake gently; "I had no reason for +supposing otherwise." + +"I don't blame you, Mr. Sheldrake----" + +"Thank you, Lily," he said. Kind words from her were really pleasant +to him. + +"But I am frightened of being on this road alone." + +"Not alone; I am here to protect you." + +Her tears fell fast. + +"If I had known--if I had known!" she murmured, in great distress of +mind. She had been thinking of Felix and her grandfather, and of their +unhappiness at her absence. But there was some small comfort for her +in the thought that she had written to them, and had explained as far +as she dared. + +"If you had known!" repeated Mr. Sheldrake gravely. "Do you mean that +if you had known, you would not have come? Surely you cannot mean +that, Lily! When I parted from your brother this afternoon, he was +flying to hide himself from the danger which threatens him, and from +which only we can save him. And of course I thought you knew where he +was. If there has been deceit, it has not been on my part. And even at +this stage, I cannot submit to be placed in a false light, or to be +misjudged. I have endeavoured to make you acquainted with the unhappy +position of affairs; in the state of mind in which I left your +brother, I would not answer for it that he would not commit any rash +act. But if you cannot trust me, you have but to say the word, and we +will go back, and I will leave you within a dozen yards of your +grandfather's door." + +"No, no!" she cried. She was, indeed, almost helpless in this man's +hands. "We will go on; I must see him and save him, if I can." + +"You trust me, then," he said eagerly. + +She was constrained to reply "Yes;" but when he took her hand, which +was resting on the sash, and kissed it, she shivered as though she had +been drawn into an act of disloyalty to Felix. Mr. Sheldrake had made +up his mind by the time he had resumed his seat on the box: he would +marry Lily--there was nothing else for it. "I'll sow my wild oats and +settle down," he thought, as he lit a cigar; "a man must marry at some +time or other, and it's almost time for me to be thinking of it. I +couldn't do better; she's innocent and pretty, and--everything that's +good; and she's not a girl that will impose on a man, like some of +those who know too much." Then he fell a-thinking of the wives of his +friends, and how superior Lily was in every way to any of them. +"She'll do me credit," he thought. He was dimly conscious that Lily +entertained a tender feeling for Felix; but that this would fade +utterly away in the light of his own magnanimous offer he did not +entertain a doubt. He mused upon the future in quite a different +mood from that he was accustomed to; for the purifying influence of +Lily's nature made itself felt even in his heart, deadened as it had +been all his life to the higher virtues. And now they were nearing the +end of their journey. In the distance could be seen the fires of the +gipsy camps; the cold wind came sweeping over the downs. The best +thing he could do, he thought, would be to stop at an inn; he knew of +a quiet one, out of the town, where it was likely they would not be +noticed; and he would leave Lily alone for a few minutes, and, on +the pretence of going out to seek for Alfred, he would go to the +Myrtle--the inn at which he had desired Mr. Musgrave to put up--and +see if the old man was there. Then he would come back to Lily, and +tell her they would not be able to see Alfred until the morning. There +would be a little scene, perhaps, but he would be able to smooth +matters over. + +By the time he had matured this plan, the cab drove up to the door of +the inn. It was not yet midnight, and Mr. Sheldrake had no difficulty +in obtaining admission. As they entered, and walked upstairs into a +private room which Mr. Sheldrake ordered, Lily looked about, expecting +to see Alfred. Mr. Sheldrake, attentively observing her, knew the +meaning of those searching glances, and, against his reason, was +mortified by the reflection that _he_ occupied no place in her +thoughts. + +"You had best take off your things, Lily," he said awkwardly, and, +seeming not to notice the look of sudden distrust and surprise which +came into her face at his words, proceeded, "It is chilly, but we will +soon have a fire, and be comfortable." + +Either his words, or the tone of familiarity in which they were +spoken, came like a cold wind upon Lily's fevered senses. Felix seemed +to stand before her, and to warn her against this man. But although, +in the light of these new impressions, a veil seemed to be falling +from before her sight, and although love for Felix, and the +responsibilities it conveyed to her heart, gave her strength, the +shock was too great and unexpected for her to find words to answer Mr. +Sheldrake immediately. + +"I will order some supper, Lily. Is there anything particular that you +would like?" + +She steadied herself, resting her hand upon the table. + +"Where is Alfred?" she asked, in a voice that was firm, despite its +tremulousness. "Where is Alfred?" + +Mr. Sheldrake was discomposed by her unusual manner. + +"Alfred is not here, Lily." + +"Not here!" she echoed. "For what reason, then, have we stopped here?" + +Mr. Sheldrake felt the difficulty of the situation, and, with an +embarrassment which he strove in vain not to express, proceeded to +explain. But disconcerted by the steady gaze with which she regarded +him, he stumbled over his words, and for once in his life his +assurance failed him. Had he been at his ease, and had he spoken with +his usual plausibility, he might still have been successful in +deceiving her; but he had betrayed himself, and it came upon her like +a flash of light that he had set a trap for her. She waited until he +had finished speaking, and then said, with an utter disregard of his +explanation, + +"You asked me to come with you to see my brother. Bring him to me." + +"That is what I intend, Lily," he said, biting his lips; "I will go +and search for him. But you want rest and refreshment first." + +She stopped his farther speech. + +"I want neither. I am here to see my brother. Bring him to me." + +Amazed and confounded by the resolution of her manner, he hesitated. +He could not leave her in the strange mood that had come upon her; he +must strive to leave more favourable impression behind him. But the +words he wished to utter for the purpose of quieting and assuring her +would not come to his lips. As he hesitated, Lily stepped quickly to +the window, and throwing it open, looked out. + +"What are you looking for?" he asked, stepping towards her. + +A sudden cry, almost hysterical, escaped from her, and she turned +swiftly and confronted him. + +"I am looking for the cab," she said, her cheeks flushing, showing +such distrust of him by the action of her hands that he shrugged his +shoulders, and sat down at a little distance from her. He had quietly +ordered the driver to take the cab to the Myrtle Inn, and put up +there; but he knew that, even if the cab were still at the door, she +could not see it, for the window of the room looked out upon the back +of the inn. As Lily leaned out of the window, Mr. Sheldrake fancied he +heard a voice without, but he set it down to the account of some toper +going from the inn; in another moment, however, he did hear Lily's +voice, but could not distinguish what she said. He started up with a +jealous exclamation, and as he did so, Lily closed the window, and +sank into a chair in a fit of hysterical weeping. + +"Why can you not trust me?" he asked, bending over her tenderly. "You +are over-wrought and over-excited. To whom were you speaking?" + +She calmed herself by a great effort: + +"The man said he could not see anything of the cab," she answered; +"nor could I. It is gone." + +"The driver has put up his horse, I suppose. It is a long drive, +remember, and the horse must be tired." + +A knock came at the door, and the landlady entered. + +"Do you stop here to-night, sir?" she inquired. + +"Yes," he said. + +"No," said Lily firmly. "This gentleman does not stop here to-night." + +A threatening look came into his eyes. + +"Wait outside a minute," he said to the landlady. The landlady obeyed, +and Mr. Sheldrake closed the door. "What is the meaning of this?" he +demanded of Lily, in a husky voice, almost throwing off his disguise. + +"Can you ask me? You have brought me here to see my brother on a +matter of life or death. I cannot rest until I see him. Have you no +pity for my anxiety? Do you know where Alfred is?" + +"Yes," he was compelled to reply. "I will go and bring him to you. +Will that satisfy you?" + +"You know it will. But promise me one thing." + +"You can't ask me anything, Lily, that I will not promise," he said, +hailing this small token of confidence with gladness. + +"Give me your sacred word of honour that you will not return here +to-night unless my brother is with you." + +He felt that he had no alternative; but the fear that she wished to +escape from him was upon him. In the light of this fear she became +more than ever precious in his eyes. Urged to the desperate +declaration, he said, + +"Lily, listen to me. You know that I love you--that I love you +honourably." + +"If you do," she interrupted bravely, but with her hand on her heart, +"you cannot hesitate to give me the promise I ask." + +"But you! What will you do?" + +"I shall stop here in the hope of seeing my brother." + +"I can depend on that? You _will_ stop here to-night?" + +"I will--by all that I hold dear!" + +"And if I am unsuccessful in finding Alfred to-night, you will see me +in the morning?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, then, I promise you," he said gaily: "I will show you that you +can trust me thoroughly. Good-night, Lily." + +He held her hand tenderly in his for a moment, and deemed it prudent +to say no more. + +"Little witch!" he murmured, as he walked away from the inn. "I was +afraid she was going to turn upon me. But I have her safely now, I +think!" + + + + + CHAPTER XLVI. + + FATHER AND DAUGHTER. + + +Lily listened to the sound of Mr. Sheldrake's departing footsteps as +he went down-stairs; heard him speak to some one in the bar, and heard +the front door open and close upon him as he walked out into the +night. Then, with a grateful "Thank God!" she called the landlady into +the room, and whispered to her, and put money into her hand. The +landlady said, + +"Very well, miss; I'll watch for him." + +Whoever it was she was set to watch, it was evidently no enemy to +Lily; for in less than five minutes she was talking to the person at +the back door, and telling him that the young lady was up-stairs +alone. Lily was waiting for him at the top of the stairs. She drew him +into the room with eager haste, and clasping him round the neck, cried +again, "Thank God! I am safe now! You will not leave me, will you? +Stop with me--for my grandfather's sake, for Lizzie's sake!" and, +overcome by emotion, could say no more, and swooned in his arms. When +consciousness returned to her, the landlady was standing by her side, +and Mr. Musgrave was kneeling before her. + +"There, there!" said the landlady soothingly; "I told you she had only +fainted. Do you feel better, my dear?" + +"Much better, thank you," replied Lily, vaguely. But looking down upon +the kneeling form of Mr. Musgrave, remembrance of what had passed came +to her; and she clung to him in a passion of tears, and besought him +again and again not to desert her. At a sign from him the landlady +quitted the room, saying, + +"You will find me down-stairs if you want me." + +"You are crying, Mr. Musgrave," said Lily, when they were alone. "I +feel your tears on my hand." + +"They are tears of joy and pain, my dear," he answered, rising from +his knees. "Tell me now how you came here. When I saw you looking out +of the window, I placed my finger on my lips, warning you to silence. +It is as I suspected, is it not? Mr. Sheldrake brought you here?" + +Briefly she told him of the means employed by Mr. Sheldrake to induce +her to accompany him, and of what had passed between them on the road +and at the inn. He listened attentively, and with varying shades of +emotion; and when she ceased speaking, he told her to be comforted, +that he would protect her, and that it was not Mr. Sheldrake she or +Alfred had to fear. + +"There _is_ cause for fear, my dear," he said, "but not from him. When +I return, I will tell you more----" + +"You are not going?" she interrupted entreatingly, clinging to him +more closely. + +"I must; you shall know my errand when I come back, and you will be +satisfied. Then I will not leave you again. I shall be absent for half +an hour, my dear; and while I am away the landlady will sit with you." + +"But if Mr. Sheldrake returns----" + +"You say he has gone for Alfred. Lily, trust one who would give his +life for you. I would, my dear! I would lay it down willingly at your +feet, if it were necessary for your safety or your honour!" What +inexplicable passion, inwardly borne but not expressed, was it that +caused his limbs to tremble as he held her to him for a few brief +moments? What impulse caused him to loose her from his embrace +suddenly, and to stand aloof from her as if he were not worthy of the +association? + +"Mr. Sheldrake will not come back to-night. Be patient for half an +hour, my dear, and trust me thoroughly. Let me hear you say you have +confidence in my words." + +His earnestness carried conviction with it; but his humble manner +pained her. + +"You would not deceive me, sir," she said. "I trust you thoroughly, +and will wait patiently." + +She raised her face to his, and with a grateful sob he was about to +kiss her; but the same impulse restrained him. + +"No," he murmured; "not until she knows all." And left the room +without embracing her. + +At the appointed time he returned. During the interval the landlady +had lit the fire, and had drawn a couch to the hearth, upon which she +persuaded Lily to rest herself. + +"Ah, that's good," Mr. Musgrave said; "are you warm enough?" He +arranged the rugs about her with a tenderness which surprised her, and +then sat apart from her, with his head upon his hand. + +"You have something on your mind, sir. Come and sit near me. Are you +troubled about me?" + +He did not answer her immediately; but with a clumsy movement of his +hand he overturned the candlestick, putting out the light, almost +purposely as it seemed. + +"We do not need to light it, child," he said; "we can talk in the +dark." + +"Yes, sir, if you please," she answered, yet wondering somewhat; "but +the room is not dark. I like the soft light of the fire; it brings +rest to me. I shall be glad when day comes." She paused between each +sentence, expecting him to speak; but he sat silent, watching the +fitful shadows as they grew large and dwindled on the walls and +ceiling "What are you thinking of, sir?" + +"I am looking into the past," he replied presently, in sad and solemn +tones. + +"And you see----" + +"A wasted life. A life that might have been useful and happy, and good +in making others happy." + +"Not yours, sir," she said pityingly--"not yours. Ah, sir, you speak +as if your heart was troubled! Come closer to me, and let me comfort +you, as you have comforted me." + +"Not yet, child; I dare not. If, when you have heard what I have to +say, you ask me to do that, I will fall at your feet and bless you! +This wasted life that I see in the shadows that play about the +room--may I tell you some passages in it?" + +"It pains you to speak; it pains me to hear your sad voice----" + +"Nay," he interrupted; "it relieves me. My heart will burst else; and +I have waited for this so long, so long! You _will_ listen in +patience?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"So gradual are the changes that we do not notice them during the +time--we scarcely know how they come about; until, after the lapse of +many years, we look back and wonder at the contrast between them and +now. This wasted life that I speak of, how does it look now in the +eyes of the man who has misused it? He sees his youth as one, standing +at the foot of a great hill where the shadows lie thick, might look up +to the mount upon which the sun shines. That was before he was +married, and when he was a young man. Reckless, uncontrolled, +thirsting for the possession of things out of his reach, he did not +stop to think or reason. He could not then have spoken of himself and +of his desires as he speaks now, for he was arrogant, insolent, +selfish, and inconsiderate to his heart's core. Bitter has been the +fruit of these passions; but had he died a hundred deaths he could not +have expiated the wrong he inflicted. And yet he did not awake to the +consciousness of this until a few months since--until all the wrong +was accomplished, and until he had sunk to a shameful depth--until a +terrible retribution had ripened, to fall upon him for his deeds. No +one was to blame but he. Life presented fair opportunities to him. He +had youth, he had strength, he had a wife who loved him; but the curse +that lies heavy upon thousands, that wrecks the happiness of life, +poisons its sweetness, turns smiles into tears, joy into despair--the +curse of drink was upon him. It brought a blight upon his wife's fond +hopes, and broke her heart. He sees now in the shadows the picture of +that time. He sees himself covered with shame, flying from justice, +saved from just punishment by one whom he has only lately learned to +revere; he sees that man, the father of his wife, looking with aching +heart at the prospect that lies before his child; he sees his wife, +pale, dumb, heart-crushed, mourning the death of love and hope; he +sees his two children, a boy and a girl, the girl almost a babe----" + +He paused here, fighting with his grief. A long silence followed. Lily +had raised herself upon the couch, and had followed his words with +agonised interest. She could say nothing to comfort him; her emotion +was too powerful for speech. In trembling suspense she waited for his +next words. She felt that she was in some way connected with the story +he was telling, but the light that shone upon her mind burned dimly as +yet. + +"So he left those who should have been dear to him, and never looked +again upon the face of his wife. The time that followed--the long, +long years during which he strove to forget the past--seem to him like +a dream. With the curse of drink still upon him, he grew old before +his time. He had taken another name, and nothing of his former life +was known. Mention of it never passed his lips. How he lived, matters +not now. It shames him to think of it. But after many years had +passed, he awoke one day to a better consciousness of things. There +came to lodge in the house in which he lived a bright and good girl, +who obtained her living by dressmaking. When he first saw her, and +heard her pretty voice singing in the room next to his, it seemed as +if a vision of the past had fallen upon him. This girl and he became +friends, and he grew to love her, and loves her now. Often, as he +looked upon her, he thought that his daughter, if she was living--his +daughter whom he had not seen since she was a babe--would be something +like this bright girl. One night the man's employer came to him and +made a strange offer. On the condition that he could persuade this +girl to live with him as his daughter or his niece, a small house near +London was to be taken, of which he was to be the tenant and +ostensible master. While they were talking over this proposition, the +girl came home; she had been to the theatre with her sweetheart; he +accompanied her home, and the voices were heard in the adjoining room. +The employer heard the young man's voice, and recognised it, and it +seemed as if the recognition made him more desirous that the plan +should be put into operation quickly. The old man that very night +acquainted the girl with the proposition that had been made to him, +and she consented to live with him. She told him the story of her +life, and they sat up talking until late. Before she went to bed he +asked her the name of her sweetheart. She told him. It was the name of +his own son!" + +He covered his face with his hands, unable to proceed. Lily rose from +the sofa, and approached him tremblingly. She knelt at his feet, and +said, in a voice that rose no higher than a whisper, + +"Tell me his name, sir." + +The name came through his sobs. + +"Alfred." + +"And his sweetheart's name is Lizzie, is it not?" + +"Yes." + +"And the story you have related to me is your own?" + +"It is my own, miserable man that I am!" + +The silence that followed was very brief, but to him it was like a +long and terrible oblivion. Then upon the darkness in which his soul +was wrapped broke a silver line of light, so inexpressively sweet, so +exquisitely painful, that his heart almost ceased to beat. + +"Father!" + +Her arms were round his neck, but he fell on the ground at her feet, +and cried humbly for forgiveness. + +"Father, you have something more to tell me!" + +"Yes, my dear child. You must be made acquainted with what has passed, +so that you may be prepared. You will hear what I have to tell +bravely, will you not, my child?" + +"It is about Alfred!" she cried, in great agitation. + +"It is; I know where he is. I have seen him. I went to him when I left +you awhile ago." + +She started to her feet, and looked about tremblingly for her mantle. + +"I must go to him at once. Come! Why do we stop here?" + +"Dear child," he said, taking her hand in his, and striving to calm +her, "you must be guided by me. For his sake, we must keep away from +him." + +"But he is alone, and unhappy. What will he think if he knows that I +am here? O, let us go to him, dear father! We should not be absent +from him in his trouble." + +"Lily, my child, you would not bring greater trouble upon him?" + +"No, no!" + +"You might, if you do not act as I tell you. A watch might be set upon +your steps, and his safety depends upon his hiding-place being kept +secret. For he _is_ in hiding, my dear. Sit down, child, and be +satisfied that for the present you are serving him best by remaining +here. And do not be uneasy, my darling, that he is not being taken +care of. He is not alone. Lizzie is with him." + +"Lizzie with him!" + +What strange wonders was this night bringing forth! + +"He wrote to her, and although he did not tell her where she could +find him, she lost not a moment, but came here at once, the dear brave +girl! Alfred was at the races to-day, as you already know, and lost +not only his own money, but money that did not belong to him. What +this false man who brought you here to-night told you about him is +true. Alfred is in great peril, and the despair that seized him when +he realized the full sense of his danger made him desperate, and drove +him almost mad. I came to Epsom to-day especially to keep an eye upon +him, for I feared that something bad would occur. Last week Lizzie +overheard a conversation between him and Mr. Sheldrake--it took place +in our cottage, and she listened at the door. She had not the courage +until last night to tell me what she had heard, and I dreaded the +consequences, and saw them in a clearer light than she. I have gone +through such an experience myself, and have tasted the bitter fruit. I +determined to come to Epsom, knowing, alas! that it was too late to +undo the evil he was bringing upon himself, but hoping against hope +that by a lucky chance (the gambler's forlorn hope, my dear!) things +would turn out well. They did not; and when the race was over, I saw +Alfred steal away from the course, ruined and almost lost--I saw it in +his face--and I followed him to prevent worse occurring. His false +friend saw me, and for a purpose of his own set me to watch my own +son, little dreaming of the stake I held in his unhappy fortunes. But +Alfred discovered that I was watching him, and he escaped me. I was +frightened to think to what his agony and remorse might drive him, and +I wandered everywhere in search of him. For six hours, my dear, I +hunted for him in vain. I was distracted. It was a dark cold night, +and I was worn-out and wearied. At nearly eleven o'clock I was on the +plains, near to some gipsy tents, about half a mile from here. I +thought of Lizzie's misery at Alfred's absence, and I thought of you +also, dear child. I did not know what it was best for me to do. Shall +I return home? I asked of myself. And as I stood, uncertain and +helpless, I heard a voice that was familiar to me. It was Lizzie's +voice, my dear. She had been searching also, and with a woman's wit +knew that it was useless to inquire at the inns or wander about the +town in search of him. She guessed rightly where it was most likely he +would try to find refuge. She went to every tent and every camping +party on the plains, and made her way where I could not, and received +answers and civil words where they were denied to me. At the gipsy +tents, near which I had halted, she was told that a man with the +horrors on him--don't tremble, child!--had come and wanted to camp +with them; but they had turned him away, and would have naught to do +with him. Lizzie described Alfred to them. Yes, they answered, it was +some such sort of a man. She searched for him near those tents, and +found him lying under a hedge in a state of delirium. Dear child, be +calm! let us pray that he will get well, and that this great trouble +may be tided over. It is not Mr. Sheldrake that he has to fear. But I +haven't finished my story yet. Lizzie found him, and prevailed upon +the gipsy women to give them shelter. She bribed them with money; she +would have given them her blood if they had bargained for it, for his +sake. Ah, my child! I begin to see the beauty of a woman's love, and +how unworthy we are! One of the gipsy women made some cooling drink +for him, and it was while these two were talking outside the tent that +I heard Lizzie's voice. You may imagine our sad pleasure at thus +discovering each other. I remained with them some little time, and +came to this inn for food and drink for them, and as I approached the +place I saw your face at the window. You know now the errand which +took me from you for half an hour. It is arranged that Alfred shall +remain with these people, if necessary; they will conceal him if they +are paid for it, and one of the women has taken a great liking for +Lizzie. The dear girl would win her way anywhere. I told Lizzie you +were here. She sends her dearest love to you, and says that she will +contrive to see you to-morrow. She told me to tell you also, that when +Felix and your grandfather--God bless him for the care and love he has +bestowed on my child!--And all of us absent, Felix will be sure, after +the first shock of surprise, to guess where we all are, and that he +will follow you to Epsom early in the morning, perhaps to-night. +Felix, she says, knows more about Alfred than you are aware of. So, +dear child, all that we can do is to wait until the morning, and to +hope for the best. And now, before you lie down to rest, tell me if it +is as I suspect and hope with you and Felix." + +She hid her face on his shoulder, and told him all. + +"God bless you both!" he said solemnly. + +He insisted on her lying down, and he sat by her side and watched her. +When, presently, she pretended to fall asleep, he knelt by the couch, +and, with his face resting on her soft warm hand, prayed with humble +heart. + + + + + CHAPTER XLVII. + + FELIX CHECKMATES MR. DAVID SHELDRAKE. + + +Mr. David Sheldrake, calling at ten o'clock the next morning to see +Lily, receives from the landlady a message that the young lady has +passed a bad night, and cannot receive him until noon. Somewhat +surprised, but compelled to acquiesce in the arrangement, he walks +away from the inn, consoling himself with the thoughts that all girls +are capricious, and that Lily, having seen how deep was the passion he +entertained for her, and having made up her mind to accept him as her +lover, was disposed to coquet with him a little. "The bewitching +little jade!" he muses. "They like to hold on and off. But I'll soon +bring her to the point." He has not been idle during the morning; he +has been hunting after Mr. Musgrave, to give him information of +Alfred's movements. But Mr. Musgrave has not made his appearance at +the Myrtle Inn, and Mr. Sheldrake, although he has been about the +neighbourhood making inquiries, has been unsuccessful in finding any +trace of him or Alfred. Mr. Sheldrake has settled with himself that +this dereliction of duty must not be overlooked. "The old man must +go," he thinks: "Ivy Cottage has served its turn. It is getting rather +warm there, and Old Muzzy is beginning to know too much." The +reflection that Ivy Cottage is getting too warm is not entirely new; +certain victims who had been fleeced by Mr. Sheldrake and his agents +had been writing threatening letters to him and Con Staveley addressed +to Ivy Cottage, and the secret of their connection had in some way +leaked out. Now, Mr. Sheldrake does not desire a public exposure; such +a thing would be annoying and expensive, perhaps dangerous. He knows +well enough that many of his transactions will not bear the light, +and that in some instances a boundary line within which roguery can +safely trade had been overstepped. He thinks of this during the +interval between ten and twelve o'clock, and resolves to go to the +cottage that very evening, and destroy all the letters and papers it +contains; they are the only evidence against him. At noon he presents +himself again at the inn. The landlady informs him that the young lady +is up, and will see him. She leads him to the parlour. "We shall be +private here?" he says, before he enters. "O yes, sir," the landlady +replies, and retires. He sees at a glance that Lily has passed a +disturbed night, but she receives him with a singular mixture of +composure and nervousness. When he tells her that he has not brought +Alfred with him, she does not cry and make a scene, as he anticipated. +She is very pale, and she listens, without interrupting him, to the +reasons he gives for Alfred's absence. + +"It looks as if I had broken faith with you, my dear Lily," he says +confidently; "but the fact is, Alfred _must_ keep out of the way until +his accounts are squared. The detectives are on the look-out for him, +but you and I will be able to pull him through. You see he has made a +mess of it all round. He owes me money; he owes a person of the name +of Con Staveley money. Of course what he owes me does not matter, but +this Con Staveley is a hard nail, and insists on having his money +down, or he'll prosecute. Even that wouldn't be so bad; but Alfred has +done worse. He has taken money from his office--in plain terms, he has +been embezzling the money of his employers--and they are determined +not to let him escape. I heard it an hour ago, from the best +authority--from one of the detectives, indeed, that I managed to +square. So you see how the matter stands." + +As yet Lily has not spoken a word, and he pauses here, expecting her +to say something. She does not disappoint him. + +"Will you tell me exactly, Mr. Sheldrake, how much money Alfred owes?" + +"He owes me and Con Staveley about three hundred pounds. In a sort of +way, I am friendly with Con Staveley. He is stopping in the town for +the races, and hearing I was here, he came to see me. I thought I'd +best set to work at once, and I got him to give me an account of the +debt. Well, he puts confidence in me, and he not only gave me the +figures, but the bills as well, with Alfred's name on them. Here they +are." He takes some papers from his pocket, and shows them to her. "I +told Con I would pay them." + +"And you will?" + +"You have but to say the word, and I'll make things straight for +Alfred at his office, as well. Lily, do you remember the conversation +we had when we came home from the theatre, when that young puppy" (her +colour rose here) "interrupted us? I have a right to call him so, for +I know what he is made of. Would he do for you what I would do, what I +am ready to do this very day? I think not. Think! I am sure not." He +strives to read her face, but she has turned from him, and her eyes +are towards the ground. "Ah," he thinks, "she knows what is coming;" +and says aloud, "The very first night I saw Alfred, I told him I would +be his friend for his pretty sister's sake, and I have kept my word. +He would have had to cave-in long ago if it hadn't been for me; but +again and again, when he was going to the bad, you stepped in and +saved him. He knew this all along. He knew that it was for your sake I +helped him through his troubles. You sigh! You think he is in a worse +trouble to-day than he has ever been before. Well, you are right. I +warned him repeatedly; I told him twenty times to pull-up, but he +wouldn't listen to me; and still I stuck to him like a man, for his +pretty Lily's sake. I can save him now, and will, if you but say the +word. To-morrow, this afternoon, in another hour, it may be too late. +His fate hangs upon you, and you only. Say but the word, and I'll +bring him to your arms again." + +"What word?" + +Although she is almost falling to the ground, and although she speaks +in a whisper, as if the words were forced from her, he hears her. + +"Say that you love me." + +Bending forward it his eagerness, with his eyes fixed upon her +drooping form, with his arms outstretched to receive her, he does not +see that a door which communicates with an inner room is swiftly and +softly opened. Emboldened by her silence, which he interprets +favourably, he is approaching nearer to her exultantly, when he is put +aside with a firm hand, and Old Wheels steps between him and her. His +face turns white as he sees the old man, who regards him steadily. + +"You were saying----" says Old Wheels gently. + +Mr. Sheldrake bites his lips, and accepts the situation. + +"That I love your granddaughter. I was about to ask her to be my +wife." + +Old Wheels, with his arms around Lily, kisses her, and strokes her +hair fondly. + +"My darling!" he murmurs. She hides her face on his breast. He directs +his clear bright eyes to Mr. Sheldrake, whose own eyes shift and +waver, and shrink, as falsehood shrinks in the light of truth. "I will +answer for her, Mr. Sheldrake. She declines." + +"What!" exclaims Mr. Sheldrake, a white fury gathering about his lips. + +"It is true, nevertheless," says the old man. + +"She shall answer with her own lips," cries Mr. Sheldrake, with a +menacing gesture. + +"She will never again open her lips to you. I speak for her." + +"Old dotard! But she _shall_ answer!" + +The arm he raises to put the old man aside is seized by a stronger +hand than his, and he is thrust back violently. + +"O!" he sneers, as he recognises Felix. "Are there any more of you?" + +"One other," replies Felix, with a smile. "You shall see him +presently." + +For a moment Mr. Sheldrake measures himself with Felix; the conclusion +he arrives at in this hasty glance is not assuring. Felix stands +before him as firm as a rock, and with a kindling light in his eyes, +which warns him to be careful of himself. He heeds the warning, and +says in as calm a voice as he can command, + +"This is a plot, then!" + +"If you please to call it so," is the answer. "Plot against plot, we +will say. Yours has failed." + +"We shall see." + +"We shall." + +Felix is supremely calm; Mr. Sheldrake's passion breaks against him as +the sea breaks against a rook and recoils upon itself. + +"And you came here, I suppose, to play the hero, and to trick that +young lady with fine speeches. But if she knows what is good for her, +she'll be wise in time." + +"I hope she will. Lily!" + +She does not answer in words, but creeps into his arms. Then Mr. +Sheldrake shows his full meanness. "Take her!" he says, with a toss of +the hand, as discarding a worthless thing. "She came with me from the +old man's house last night. How many hours ago? Ah, thirteen! Take +her. _I_ have done with her!" + +Felix laughs cheerily, and holds Lily closer to his breast. + +"It was a lucky chance," he says, not addressing Mr. Sheldrake, "that +caused us to put up at the Myrtle Inn; for going into the stable to +look after my horse, I saw another horse which had been put up but a +very short time before we arrived. I have driven that horse more than +once, and I know the livery-stables to which it belonged. It was by +another lucky chance that I inquired of the ostler at the Myrtle +whether a man of the name of Thompson, a man with a crooked nose and a +hare-lip, had driven that horse down. But it was by the luckiest +chance of all that we found Thompson in bed at that very inn, and that +we induced him, without much trouble, to tell all about the pleasant +drive he had had, and where he had set his passengers down." + +"You _have_ been very lucky," sneers Mr. Sheldrake, "but all your luck +will not avail you to save Master Alfred from the hulks. It is my +mission now to assist him to that desirable retreat for fools and +thieves. I have you there, my lucky hero." + +"I think not. You have not heard all our luck yet. A friend of mine, a +detective--O yes, I have detective friends, as well as you!--has in +his possession certain letters and documents concerning transactions +in which the names of Sheldrake, Staveley, and half a dozen aliases +assumed by each to serve his turn, suspiciously occur. I think the law +is not inclined to treat with leniency the miserable tricksters whose +knavery leads many poor creatures to ruin. Some public attention has +been drawn to the class to which Mr. Sheldrake and Mr. Staveley +belong, as you may have observed. The law hitherto has been +comparatively powerless, because of the want of sufficiently direct +evidence; the rascals are a cunning set. But I and my detective friend +have in our possession documents by which we shall be able to prove +distinct fraud; and as those who administer the law wait but for the +opportunity to convict, you may depend that the punishment will not be +light. Nay, we have not only documents; we have witnesses. Knowing +what kind of man we had to deal with, knowing what kind of knavery we +had to expose, we set traps, not yesterday, nor last week, but months +ago, and the evidence we can bring forward will be sufficient. +Temptation has proved too strong for you in one or two instances, and +you have overstepped the mark, as we shall prove to you to your cost." + +Inwardly disturbed as he is--for he does not know what proofs +may be in Felix's hands, and whether Felix is speaking truth or +gasconading--Mr. Sheldrake snaps his fingers scornfully. + +"That for your evidence and witnesses!" he says. "You can do your best +and your worst!" + +But he begins to lose courage when Felix plays his next move. + +"You asked me when I came in whether there were any more of us. I told +you there was one more, and that you should see him presently." + +Felix goes to the door which leads to the inner room, and opens it, +and Mr. Musgrave comes forward. Then, for the first time, the +consideration whether it will not be advisable to make terms, occurs +to Mr. Sheldrake. + +"You drunken old thief!" he exclaims, with an oath. "Are you in this +plot?" + +"And has been for some time," answers Felix, in a pleasant voice. "We +will excuse any hard words you may use. We are in confidence, and what +passes between us is, as the lawyers say, without prejudice. But you +have not seen all the cards in our hands yet. I speak, you see, in a +language you can understand. Shall I show you another trump-card that +we hold?" + +"Go on." + +"I heard you say before I entered that you had seen Mr. Con Staveley +this morning. That is not true. But it _is_ true that my detective +friend has seen him, and we have made terms (this is without +prejudice, mind) with him. If we are compelled to make this case +public, he appears against you. We hold him harmless, and he is +satisfied to get out of a serious scrape without a scratch. In no one +instance was he your partner in any of the transactions you have had +with the young gentleman whom you tried to lead to ruin. We have this +down in black and white. Do you think we have trumps enough to win the +game?" + +"I don't know. What stakes are we playing for?" + +"Those bills and acceptances you hold with Alfred's name to them, and +a full quittance from you to him for all money directly or indirectly +advanced to him by you and Con Staveley. We know almost to a sovereign +what they amount to. You have a list in your pocket. I also have a +list from Con Staveley." + +"What if I refuse?" + +Felix smiles. + +"Why, then, I suppose, we must be quixotic enough to pay to Mr. +Sheldrake such of those bills as bear his name. Those bearing Mr. +Staveley's name we should be able to settle with that gentleman +direct. We should pay your bills under protest." + +"_We_ pay!" interrupted Mr. Sheldrake incredulously. + +"Well, say instead that I pay. I am able, I assure you; and I assure +you also that I am able to prove how many of the cheques bearing Mr. +Sheldrake's name for which bills were given came back to Mr. Sheldrake +through Mr. Staveley, and never passed through the bank. Here is a +suspicion of fraud, which it might be worth while to prosecute. But we +should not want it, I believe. We shall be able to keep Alfred's name +out of the proceedings. The other cases we have against you are, +in my detective friend's opinion, amply sufficient. And be sure of +this"--and here Felix's voice grew stern--"that unless the terms I +have stated are accepted by you, I will make the name of Sheldrake +famous in criminal records, and will so gibbet you in public opinion +that your very friends and acquaintances shall think it prudent to +know you no more. Excuse me for using strong language; all that passes +is without prejudice, and we are here in private conference." + +His earnestness and determined manner carry conviction with them. Mr. +Sheldrake does not hesitate. + +"And if I give you those bills, and the quittance, as you desire----" + +"We wash our hands of you." + +"You will give me back those documents and letters--you dog, you!" +with a dark look at Mr. Musgrave--"which you say you have?" + +"We might be prevailed upon to do as much." + +"On those terms I accept; I can have my revenge another way." + +"Any other way you please. This is all I stipulate for." + +"Can we arrange the business now?" + +"At once. I will call my detective friend in." + +The next half-hour is passed in the settlement of the affair, and +Felix conducts himself in so calm and business-like a manner, as to +intensify the bitterness with which Mr. Sheldrake regards him. Lily +and her father and grandfather do not speak, but they worship Felix +with their eyes; and now and then he turns and gives them an +encouraging smile, which does not escape Mr. Sheldrake's notice. But +he seems more eager than Felix to conclude the affair, having +something in his mind of which he is burning to deliver himself. + +"On your word and honour as a gentleman," he says, as he receives +certain letters and papers from Felix, "these are all that you have?" + +Felix, who has been carefully examining the bills, and who has been +very particular in the wording of the paper which releases Alfred from +liability, places the documents in his pocket carefully, and says, + +"On my word and honour as a gentleman, these are all that we have. I +cannot honestly put the same form of words to you; but I am satisfied +that the bills tally with the list, and that the amount is correct. +Here, then, our acquaintanceship ends. I wish you good-day." + +"I am going," says Mr. Sheldrake, energetically buttoning his +coat--"where to, do you think?" + +"I haven't the slightest interest in knowing," Felix replies. + +"You will alter your note when you hear I am going to Messrs. Tickle +and Flint, Alfred's employers, to tell them where it is likely they +will find the runaway clerk who has embezzled their money. You thought +the game was over, did you? Here is an unexpected check for you." + +Mr. Sheldrake, with a wicked smile, is hurrying from the room, when +Felix, in his brightest manner, says with a pleasant laugh, + +"I checkmate you. I have myself been to Messrs. Tickle and Flint, and +have arranged with them. This is in strict confidence between you and +me, as men of--well, we will say of honour. If you go, you will find +that they have nothing to say against Alfred. But I should advise you +to beware of Tickle and Flint; they are my lawyers in the little +matter in which you were very nearly putting in an appearance in the +dock. Shall I call 'checkmate' again, for the game is over?" + +He turns his back upon Mr. Sheldrake, who takes his leave with no good +feelings in his heart, you may be sure. Felix takes Lily's hand, and +looks fondly into her eyes. + +"This last piece of news is true, my darling. I have made myself +responsible to the firm for Alfred's debt; and Messrs. Tickle and +Flint have accepted fifty pounds on account. It was not an easy matter +to persuade them; but I pleaded with them effectually, and it is a +satisfaction to them to know that they will not be losers. Alfred, of +course, will not be employed in the office again; but he is free, and +let us thank God." + +Her heart is too full for words; she can only press his hand to her +trembling lips, and bid God bless him. He looks round with a happy +smile. + +"All selfishness, sir, believe me!" he says to Old Wheels. "I would +not change my lot with that of the best man in England!" + + + * * * * * * + + +A scene of another description took place at the same time between two +women, mother and daughter. Felix brought Martha Day from London, +after his visit to Alfred's employers. Before he returned to the inn, +to play the principal part in the scene just described, he took Martha +to the tent in which Lizzie was nursing Alfred, and said, + +"You will find your daughter in there. Keep with her until I come for +you." + +As Martha timidly entered the tent, Lizzie turned with a low cry, and +threw her arms round her mother's neck. + +"I sent a letter to you this morning, mother; but you could not have +received it." + +"I came home last night, my dear," Martha replied. + +"Last night! How anxious you must have been! If I had thought you were +coming back, I would have left word." + +"I was almost distracted, Lizzie. Felix found me at the house this +morning in a sad state, and told me all." + +Lizzie moved to where Alfred was lying. A bed had been made up for him +on the ground, and he was murmuring feverishly in his sleep. She knelt +by his side, but could not make sense of the words that came from his +lips. Names of horses and jockeys and prophets, with expressions of +fondness for Lizzie and Lily, were strangely mingled together. + +"He would have died, mother, if I had not come last night! I found him +lying under a hedge in a strong fever. He has not recognised me yet. +If he dies, my heart will break! You will help me to nurse him, +mother?" + +"Yes, dear child." + +They gazed at each other wistfully. Lizzie's eyes were heavy and weary +with watching. Filled as was Martha's heart with yearning love for her +child, there was an expression of misery in her face. Lizzie saw it, +and a sad smile played upon her lips. + +"I want all your love, mother!" + +"You have it, dear child!" + +"And yet you are unhappy." + +Martha did not reply; and after a pause Lizzie continued, in a low +sweet voice: + +"Mother, I am going to make you happy." + +"Lizzie!" + +"Lying there as Alfred is lying now--dying, perhaps--I may consider +myself absolved from my promise. Ah, mother, you are not tender to +him; you have not kissed him; you have no kind thoughts in your heart +for him! Is it not so? You do not answer, and I love him so! Mother, +kiss Alfred." + +Martha leant towards the sleeping man; but fast-flowing tears came +from her eyes, and she wrenched herself away from him, and said, in a +choking voice, + +"I cannot, child; I cannot!" + +"Ah, mother, you wrong him," said Lizzie tenderly. "And me. You spoke +some words to me last evening. They are in my mind now. Look at me, +mother. Place your hand in mine." + +Martha placed her hand in Lizzie's, and Lizzie's other hand stole +forward, and imprisoned it. An eager light flashed into Martha's eyes +as she looked down on the hand that lay uppermost. + +"Lizzie! A wedding-ring!" + +"We were married six months ago, mother. But Alfred made me promise +solemnly to keep it secret until he gave me permission. He wanted to +make his fortune first, poor dear! I have broken my promise; but I +don't think he would blame me. Mother, will you kiss Alfred now? Will +you kiss my husband?" + + + * * * * * * + + +It is so short a time since this last scene was acted, that there is +but little more to tell. All those persons who have taken part in the +story are living now. Alfred went through a very severe illness, but +has almost recovered his strength. He is very humble; let us hope that +the bitter experience he has undergone will make him a better man. His +mind is filled with good resolves as he looks at Lizzie, who sits at +his side with a baby at her breast. + +Mr. David Sheldrake prospers. Will the law ever give him his proper +position in society, and deprive him of the means of lawful wrong +doing? Let us hope that it will--and soon. + +The Reverend Emanuel Creamwell still reigns at Stapleton. The justices +of the peace who are ruled by him, and who speak their sentences out +of his mouth, pursue the crooked tenor of their way. Last week, a +woman nearly eighty years of age, whose antecedents are good, was +charged before them with damaging a fence to the amount of one penny. +The owner of the fence, a farmer, would not appear against her, and a +policeman was the only witness. The woman is nearly stone-deaf, and +could not hear a word of the evidence. She and her aged husband +depended upon parish relief for support, and between them would have +found it difficult, after their long battle of life, to muster +sufficient money to pay for one day's food. The policeman said he +charged the woman with the terrible offence, and that she denied it, +and said she had merely broken a bit of dead wood with her foot. The +woman being deaf, could not examine the witness. The magistrates +pronounced the sentence, as dictated by the clergyman. She was found +guilty, and was condemned to pay one penny for the damage done to the +property of a man who was too merciful to prosecute; was fined +fivepence in addition to the penny; and was required to pay the cost +of the trial, amounting to thirteen shillings and sixpence. In +default of these payments, she was condemned to prison for seven days. +The old deaf woman was sent to prison. _And the clergyman, on the +following Sabbath, preached God's love and mercy to his flock!_ Will +the Government ever recognise that it belongs imperatively to its duty +to be careful that only capable[1] men--men with hearts as well as +heads--shall sit on the magisterial benches to dispense justice? Let +us hope this, also. + +Pollypod's accident was not a very serious one; but it was discovered +that she had hurt her knee, and she will never be able to walk without +a limp. Sometimes when Jim Podmore looks at her as she limps along, it +seems to him as if she is treading on his heart. Jim has obtained a +situation in which he is enabled to earn a living by working ten hours +a day. Quite hours enough to work for a decent living. + +Felix and Lily are married. He is working bravely, modestly, +cheerfully, and they are very happy. Old Wheels and he have many +quaint conversations together, and Lily and Pollypod listen with +delight to their discussions about this and that. They have but little +of the world's wealth; but they are very rich notwithstanding. + +-------------------- + +Footnote 1: In a disreputable gambling action which was tried at the +Court of Queen's Bench in February, 1873, the Lord Chief-Justice of +England, speaking of "the pernicious and fatal habit of gambling," +declared "that the habit was one so demoralising and degrading that it +would, like some foul leprosy, eat away the conscience, until a man +comes to think that it is your duty to yourself to 'do your neighbour +as your neighbour would do you!'" The defendant in this disreputable +action was twenty-four years of age, _and a magistrate!_ The case of +the poor woman who was charged with committing a penny's worth of +damage to a fence was tried before three magistrates, all of them +clergymen. Are such men as these fit administrators of justice? + +-------------------- + + + + + THE END. + + + + + * * * * * * * * * * * * * * + London: SWIFT & Co., Regent Press, King Street, Regent Street, W. + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's London's Heart, by B. L. (Benjamin Leopold) Farjeon + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LONDON'S HEART *** + +***** This file should be named 45792-8.txt or 45792-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/5/7/9/45792/ + +Produced by Transcribed by Charles Bowen from page images +provided by Google Books +(http://books.google.com/books?id=7AktAAAAYAAJ&dq and +Princeton University) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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