"I want a few words with you, Bayle," said Sir Gordon, as the pair
walked back towards the town.
"Shall we talk here, or will you come to my rooms?" and he indicated
Mrs Pinet's house, to which he had moved when Hallam married.
"Your rooms! No, man; I never feel as if I can breathe in your stuffy
lodgings. How can you exist in them?"
"I do, and very happily," said Bayle, laughing. "Shall we go to your
private room at the bank?"
"Bless my soul! no, man!" cried Sir Gordon hastily. "The very last
place. Let's get out in the fields, and talk there. More room, and no
tattling, inquisitive people about. No Gemps."
"Very good," said Bayle, wondering, and very anxious at heart, for he
knew the baronet's proclivities.
They turned off on to one of the footpaths, chatting upon indifferent
matters, till all at once Sir Gordon exclaimed:
"'Pon my honour, I don't think I like you, Bayle."
"I'm very sorry, Sir Gordon, because I really do like you. I've always
found you a true gentleman at heart, and--"
"Stuff, sir! Silence, sir! Egad, sir, will you hold your tongue?
Talking such nonsense to a confirmed valetudinarian with a soured life,
and--pish! I don't want to talk about myself. I was going to say that
I did not like you."
"You did say so," replied the curate, smiling.
"Ah! well, it's the truth. Why do you stop here?"
"To annoy you, perhaps," said Bayle laughing. "Well, no: I like my
people, and I'm vain enough to think I am able to do a little good."
"You do, Bayle, you do," said Sir Gordon, taking his arm and leaning
upon him in a confidential way. "You're a good fellow, Bayle; and
Castor here would miss you horribly, if you left."
"Oh, nonsense!"
"It is not nonsense, sir. Why, you do more good among the people in one
year than I have done in all my life."
"Well, I think I have amerced you pretty well lately for my poor, Sir
Gordon."
"Yes, man, but it was your doing. I shouldn't have given a shilling.
But look here, I was going to say, why is it that I come to you, and
make such a confidant of you?"
"Do you wish to confide something to me now?"
"Yes, of course; one can't go to one's solicitor, and I've no friends.
Plenty of club acquaintances: but no friends. There, don't shake your
head like that, man. Well, only a few. By-the-way, charming little
girl that."
"What, little Julie?" cried Bayle, with his cheeks flushing with
pleasure.
"Yes; and your prime favourite, I see. I don't like her, though. Too
much of her father."
"She has his eyes and hair," said Bayle thoughtfully; "but there is the
sweet grave look in her face that her mother used to wear when I first
came to Castor."
"Hush! Silence! Hold your tongue!" cried Sir Gordon impatiently.
"Look here--her father--I want to talk about him."
"About Mr Hallam?"
"Yes. What do you think of him now?"
Bayle laid his hand upon Sir Gordon's.
"We are old friends, Sir Gordon; I know your little secret; you know
mine. Don't ask me that question."
"As a very old trusty friend I do ask you. Bayle, it is a duty. Look
here, man; I hold an important trust in connection with that bank. I'm
afraid I have not done my duty. It is irksome to me, a wealthy man, and
I am so much away yachting. Let me see; you never have had dealings
with us."
"No, Sir Gordon, never."
"Well, as I was saying, I am so much away. You are always feeling the
pulses of the people. Now, as you are a great deal at Hallam's, tell me
as a friend in a peculiar position, what do you think of Hallam?"
"Do you mean as a friend?"
"I mean as a business man, as our manager. What do the people say?"
"I cannot retail to you all their little tattle, Sir Gordon. Look here,
sir, what do you mean? Speak out."
Sir Gordon grew red and was silent for a few minutes.
"I will be plain, Bayle," he said at last. "The fact is I am very
uneasy."
"About Hallam?"
"Yes. He occupies a position of great trust."
"But surely Mr Trampleasure shares it."
"Trampleasure shares nothing. He's a mere dummy: a bank ornament.
There, I don't say I suspect Hallam, but I cannot help seeing that he is
living far beyond his means."
"But you have the books--the statements?"
"Yes; and everything is perfectly correct. I do know something about
figures, and at our last audit there was not a penny wrong."
Bayle drew a breath full of relief.
"Every security, every deed was in its place, and the bank was never in
a more prosperous state."
"Then of what do you complain?"
"That is what I do not know. All I know, Bayle, is that I am uneasy,
and dissatisfied about him. Can you help me?"
"How can I help you?"
"Can you tell me something to set my mind at rest, and make me think
that Hallam is a strictly honourable man, so that I can go off again
yachting. I cannot exist away from the sea."
"I am afraid I can tell you nothing, Sir Gordon."
"Not from friend to friend?"
"I am the trusted friend of the Hallams'. I am free of their house.
They have entrusted a great deal of the education of their child to me!"
"Well, tell me this. You know the people. What do they say of Hallam
in the town?"
"I have never heard an unkind word respecting him unless from
disappointed people, to whom, I suppose from want of confidence in their
securities, he has refused loans."
"That's praising him," said Sir Gordon. "Do the people seem to trust
him?"
"Oh! certainly."
"More praise. But do they approve of his way of living? Hasn't he a
lot of debts in the town?"
Bayle was silent.
"Ah! that pinches. Well, now does not that seem strange?"
"I know nothing whatever of Mr Hallam's private affairs. He may
perhaps have lost his own money, and his indebtedness be due to his
endeavours to recoup himself."
"Yes," said Sir Gordon, dryly. "What a lovely day!"
"It is delightful," said the curate, with a sigh of relief, as they
turned back.
"I was going to start to-morrow for a run up the Norway fiords."
"Indeed; so soon?"
"Yes," said Sir Gordon, dryly; "but I am not going now."
They parted at the entrance of the town, and directly after the curate
became aware of the fact that old Gemp was looking at him very intently.
He forgot it the next moment as he entered his room, to be followed
directly after by his landlady, who drew his attention to a note upon
the chimney-piece in Thickens's formal, clerkly hand.
"One of the school children brought this, sir; and, begging your
pardon," cried the woman, colouring indignantly, "if it isn't making too
bold to ask such a thing of you, sir, don't you think you might say a
few words next Sunday about Poll-prying, and asking questions?"
"Really," said Bayle, smiling; "I'm afraid it would be very much out of
place, Mrs Pinet."
"Well, I'm sorry you say so, sir, for the way that Gemp goes on gets to
be beyond bearing. He actually stopped that child, took the letter from
him, read the direction, and then asked the boy who it was from, and
whether he was to wait for an answer."
"Never mind, Mrs Pinet; it is very complimentary of Mr Gemp to take so
much interest in my affairs."
"It made me feel quite popped, sir," cried the woman; "but of course it
be no business of mine."
Bayle read the letter, and changed colour, as he connected it with Sir
Gordon's questions, for it was a request that the curate would come up
and see Thickens that evening on very particular business.