SAMSON AND DELILAH.
In the commercial world of London there was one man who was really
anxious to know what were the actual facts of the case with reference
to Johnson of Manchester. This was Mr. William Brisket, whose mind at
this time was perplexed by grievous doubts. He was called upon to act
in a case of great emergency, and was by no means sure that he saw
his way. It had been hinted to him by Miss Brown, on the one side,
that it behoved her to look to herself, and take her pigs to market
without any more shilly-shallying,--by which expression the fair
girl had intended to signify that it would suit her now to name
her wedding-day. And he had been informed by Mr. Brown, on the
other side, that that sum of five hundred pounds should be now
forthcoming;--or, if not actually the money, Mr. Brown's promissory
note at six months should be handed to him, dated from the day of his
marriage with Maryanne.
Under these circumstances, he did not see his way. That the house in
Bishopsgate Street was doing a large business he did not doubt. He
visited the place often, and usually found the shop crowded. But he
did doubt whether that business was very lucrative. It might be that
the whole thing was a bubble, and that it would be burst before that
bill should have been honoured. In such case, he would have saddled
himself with an empty-handed wife, and would decidedly not have seen
his way. In this emergency he went to Jones and asked his advice.
Jones told him confidentially that, though the bill of the firm for
five thousand pounds would be as good as paper from the Bank of
England, the bill of Mr. Brown himself as an individual would be
worth nothing.
Although Mr. Brisket had gone to Jones as a friend, there had been
some very sharp words between them before they separated. Brisket
knew well enough that all the ready money at the command of the firm
had belonged to Mr. Brown, and he now took upon himself to say that
Maryanne had a right to her share. Jones replied that there was no
longer anything to share, and that Maryanne's future husband must
wait for her fortune till her father could pay it out of his income.
"I couldn't see my way like that; not at all," said Brisket. And then
there had been high words between them.
It was at this time that the first act of Johnson of Manchester's
little comedy was being played, and people in Mr. Brisket's world
were beginning to talk about the matter. "They must be doing a deal
of trade," said one. "Believe me, it is all flash and sham," said
another. "I happen to know that old Brown did go down to Manchester
and see Johnson there," said the first. "There is no such person at
all," said the second. So this went on till Mr. Brisket resolved that
his immediate matrimony should depend on the reality of Johnson's
existence. If it should appear that Johnson, with all his paper, was
a false meteor; that no one had deceived the metropolitan public;
that no one had been taken and had then escaped, he would tell Miss
Brown that he did not see his way. The light of his intelligence told
him that promissory notes from such a source, even though signed by
all the firm, would be illusory. If, on the other hand, Johnson of
Manchester had been taken, then, he thought, he might accept the
bill--and wife.
"Maryanne," he said to the young lady early on that day on which she
had afterwards had her interview with Robinson, "what's all this
about Johnson of Manchester?"
"I know nothing about your Johnsons, nor yet about your Manchester,"
said Miss Brown, standing with her back to her lover. At this time
she was waxing wroth with him, and had learned to hate his voice,
when he would tell her that he had not yet seen his way.
"That's all very well, Maryanne; but I must know something before I
go on."
"Who wants you to go on? Not I, I'm sure; nor anybody belonging to
me. If I do hate anything, it's them mercenary ways. There's one who
really loves me, who'd be above asking for a shilling, if I'd only
put out my hand to him."
"If you say that again, Maryanne, I'll punch his head."
"You're always talking of punching people's heads; but I don't see
you do so much. I shouldn't wonder if you don't want to punch my head
some of these days."
"Maryanne, I never riz a hand to a woman yet."
"And you'd better not, as far as I'm concerned,--not as long as the
pokers and tongs are about." And then there was silence between them
for awhile.
"Maryanne," he began again, "can't you find out about this Johnson?"
"No; I can't," said she.
"You'd better."
"Then I won't," said she.
"I'll tell you what it is, then, Maryanne. I don't see my way the
least in life about this money."
"Drat your way! Who cares about your way?"
"That's all very fine, Maryanne; but I care. I'm a man as is as good
as my word, and always was. I defy Brown, Jones, and Robinson to say
that I'm off, carrying anybody's paper. And as for paper, it's a
thing as I knows nothing about, and never wish. When a man comes to
paper, it seems to me there's a very thin wall betwixt him and the
gutter. When I buys a score of sheep or so, I pays for them down; and
when I sells a leg of mutton, I expects no less myself. I don't owe
a shilling to no one, and don't mean; and the less that any one owes
me, the better I like it. But Maryanne, when a man trades in that
way, a man must see his way. If he goes about in the dark, or with
his eyes shut, he's safe to get a fall. Now about this five hundred
pound; if I could only see my way--."
As to the good sense of Mr. Brisket's remarks, there was no
difference of opinion between him and his intended wife. Miss
Brown would at that time have been quite contented to enter into
partnership for life on those terms. And though these memoirs are
written with the express view of advocating a theory of trade founded
on quite a different basis, nevertheless, it may be admitted that Mr.
Brisket's view of commerce has its charms, presuming that a man has
the wherewithal. But such a view is apt to lose its charms in female
eyes if it be insisted on too often, or too violently. Maryanne had
long since given in her adhesion to Mr. Brisket's theory; but now,
weary with repetition of the lesson, she was disposed to rebel.
"Now, William Brisket," she said, "just listen to me. If you talk to
me again about seeing your way, you may go and see it by yourself.
I'm not so badly off that I'm going to have myself twitted at in that
way. If you don't like me, you can do the other thing. And this I
will say, when a gentleman has spoken his mind free to a lady, and a
lady has given her answer free back to him, it's a very mean thing
for a gentleman to be saying so much about money after that. Of
course, a girl has got herself to look to; and if I take up with you,
why, of course, I have to say, 'Stand off,' to any other young man as
may wish to keep me company. Now, there's one as shall be nameless
that wouldn't demean himself to say a word about money."
"Because he ain't got none himself, as I take it."
"He's a partner in a first-rate commercial firm. And I'll tell you
what, William Brisket, I'll not hear a word said against him, and
I'll not be put upon myself. So now I wishes you good morning." And
so she left him.
Brisket, when he was alone, scratched his head, and thought wistfully
of his love. "I should like to see my way," said he. "I always did
like to see my way. And as for that old man's bit of paper--" Then he
relapsed once again into silence.
It was within an hour of all this that Maryanne had followed her
father to George Robinson's room. She had declared her utter
indifference as to Johnson of Manchester; but yet it might, perhaps,
be as well that she should learn the truth. From her father she had
tried to get it, but he had succeeded in keeping her in the dark. To
Jones it would be impossible that she should apply; but from Robinson
she might succeed in obtaining his secret. She had heard, no doubt,
of Samson and Delilah, and thought she knew the way to the strong
man's locks. And might it not be well for her to forget that other
Samson, and once more to trust herself to her father's partners? When
she weighed the two young tradesmen one against the other, balancing
their claims with such judgment as she possessed, she doubted much as
to her choice. She thought that she might be happy with either;--but
then it was necessary that the other dear charmer should be away.
As to Robinson, he would marry her, she knew, at once, without any
stipulations. As to Brisket,--if Brisket should be her ultimate
choice,--it would be necessary that she should either worry her
father out of the money, or else cheat her lover into the belief that
the money would be forthcoming. Having taken all these circumstances
into consideration, she invited Mr. Robinson to tea.
Mr. Brown was there, of course, and so also were Mr. and Mrs.
Poppins. When Robinson entered, they were already at the tea-table,
and the great demerits of Johnson of Manchester were under
discussion.
"Now Mr. Robinson will tell us everything," said Mrs. Poppins. "It's
about Johnson, you know. Where has he gone to, Mr. Robinson?" But
Robinson professed that he did not know.
"He knows well enough," said Maryanne, "only he's so close. Now do
tell us."
"He'll tell _you_ anything _you_ choose to ask him," said Mrs.
Poppins.
"Tell me anything! Not him, indeed. What does he care for me?"
"I'm sure he would if he only knew what you were saying before he
came into the room."
"Now don't, Polly!"
"Oh, but I shall! because it's better he should know."
"Now, Polly, if you don't hold your tongue, I'll be angry! Mr.
Robinson is nothing to me, and never will be, I'm sure. Only if he'd
do me the favour, as a friend, to tell us about Mr. Johnson, I'd take
it kind of him."
In the meantime Mr. Brown and his young married guest were discussing
things commercial on their own side of the room, and Poppins, also,
was not without a hope that he might learn the secret. Poppins had
rather despised the firm at first, as not a few others had done,
distrusting all their earlier assurances as to trade bargains, and
having been even unmoved by the men in armour. But the great affair
of Johnson of Manchester had overcome even his doubts, and he began
to feel that it was a privilege to be noticed by the senior partner
in a house which could play such a game as that. It was not that
Poppins believed in Johnson, or that he thought that 15,000_l._ of
paper had at any time been missing. But, nevertheless, the proceeding
had affected his mind favourably with reference to Brown, Jones,
and Robinson, and brought it about that he now respected them,--and,
perhaps, feared them a little, though he had not respected or feared
them heretofore. Had he been the possessor of a wholesale house of
business, he would not now have dared to refuse them goods on credit,
though he would have done so before Johnson of Manchester had become
known to the world. It may therefore be surmised that George Robinson
had been right, and that he had understood the ways of British trade
when he composed the Johnsonian drama.
"Indeed, I'd rather not, Mr. Poppins," said Mr. Brown. "Secrets in
trade should be secrets. And though Mr. Johnson has done us a deal of
mischief, we don't want to expose him."
"But you've been exposing him ever so long," pleaded Poppins.
"Now Poppins," said that gentleman's wife, "don't you be troubling
Mr. Brown. He's got other things to think of than answering your
questions. I should like to know myself, I own, because all the
town's talking about it. And it does seem odd to me that Maryanne
shouldn't know."
"I don't, then," said Maryanne. "And I do think when a lady asks
a gentleman, the least thing a gentleman can do is to tell. But I
shan't ask no more,--not of Mr. Robinson. I was thinking--. But never
mind, Polly. Perhaps it's best as it is."
"Would you have me betray my trust?" said Robinson. "Would you esteem
me the more because I had deceived my partners? If you think that
I am to earn your love in that way, you know but little of George
Robinson." Then he got up, preparing to leave the room, for his
feelings were too many for him.
"Stop, George, stop," said Mr. Brown.
"Let him go," said Maryanne.
"If he goes away now I shall think him as hard as Adam," said Mrs.
Poppins.
"There's three to one again him," said Mr. Poppins to himself. "What
chance can he have?" Mr. Poppins may probably have gone through some
such phase of life himself.
"Let him go," said Maryanne again. "I wish he would. And then let him
never show himself here again."
"George Robinson, my son, my son!" exclaimed the old man.
It must be understood that Robinson had heard all this, though he had
left the room. Indeed, it may be surmised that had he been out of
hearing the words would not have been spoken. He heard them, for he
was still standing immediately beyond the door, and was irresolute
whether he would depart or whether he would return.
"George Robinson, my son, my son!" exclaimed the old man again.
"He shall come back!" said Mrs. Poppins, following him out of the
door. "He shall come back, though I have to carry him myself."
"Polly," said Maryanne, "if you so much as whisper a word to ask him,
I'll never speak to you the longest day you have to live."
But the threat was thrown away upon Mrs. Poppins, and, under her
auspices, Robinson was brought back into the room. "Maryanne," said
he, "will you renounce William Brisket?"
"Laws, George!" said she.
"Of course she will," said Mrs. Poppins, "and all the pomps and
vanities besides."
"My son, my son!" said old Brown, lifting up both his hands. "My
daughter, my daughter! My children, my children!" And then he joined
their hands together and blessed them.
He blessed them, and then went down into the shop. But before the
evening was over, Delilah had shorn Samson of his locks. "And so
there wasn't any Johnson after all," said she.
But Robinson, as he returned home, walked again upon roses.