A STARTLING EVENT
Though Ben had failed in the main object of his expedition, he
returned to Pentonville in excellent spirits. He felt that he had
been a favorite of fortune, and with good reason. In one day he had
acquired a sum equal to five weeks' wages. Added to the dollar Mr.
Crawford had contributed toward his expenses, he had been paid
twenty-one dollars, while he had spent a little less than two. It is
not every country boy who goes up to the great city who returns with
an equal harvest. If Squire Davenport had not threatened to foreclose
the mortgage, he would have felt justified in buying a present for his
mother. As it was, he feared they would have need of all the money
that came in to meet contingencies.
The train reached Pentonville at five o'clock, and about the usual
time Ben opened the gate and walked up to the front door of his modest
home. He looked so bright and cheerful when he entered her presence
that Mrs. Barclay thought be must have found and been kindly received
by the cousin whom he had gone up to seek.
"Did you see Mr. Peters?" she asked anxiously.
"No, mother; he is in Europe."
A shadow came over the mother's face. It was like taking from her her
last hope.
"I was afraid you would not be repaid for going up to the city," she
said.
"I made a pretty good day's work of it, nevertheless, mother. What do
you say to this?" and he opened his wallet and showed her a roll of
bills.
"Is that Mr. Crawford's money?" she asked.
"No, mother, it is mine, or rather it is yours, for I give it to you."
"Did you find a pocketbook, Ben? If so, the owner may turn up."
"Mother, the money is mine, fairly mine, for it was given me in return
for a service I rendered a lady in New York."
"What service could you have possibly rendered, Ben, that merited such
liberal payment?" asked his mother in surprise.
Upon this Ben explained, and Mrs. Barclay listened to his story with
wonder.
"So you see, mother, I did well to go to the city," said Ben, in
conclusion.
"It has turned out so, and I am thankful for your good fortune. But I
should have been better pleased if you had seen Mr. Peters and found
him willing to help us about the mortgage."
"So would I, mother, but this money is worth having. When supper is
over I will go to the store to help out Mr. Crawford and report my
purchase of goods. You know the most of our trade is in the evening."
After Ben had gone Mrs. Barclay felt her spirits return as she thought
of the large addition to their little stock of money.
"One piece of good fortune may be followed by another," she thought.
"Mr. Peters may return from Europe in time to help us. At any rate,
we have nearly three months to look about us, and God may send us
help."
When the tea dishes were washed and put away Mrs. Barclay sat down to
mend a pair of Ben's socks, for in that household it was necessary to
make clothing last as long as possible, when she was aroused from her
work by a ringing at the bell.
She opened the door to admit Squire Davenport.
"Good-evening," she said rather coldly, for she could not feel
friendly to a man who was conspiring to deprive her of her modest home
and turn her out upon the sidewalk.
"Good-evening, widow," said the squire.
"Will you walk in?" asked Mrs. Barclay, not over cordially.
"Thank you, I will step in for five minutes. I called to see if you
had thought better of my proposal the other evening."
"Your proposal was to take my house from me," said Mrs. Barclay. "How
can you suppose I would think better of that?"
"You forget that the house is more mine than yours already, Mrs.
Barclay. The sum I have advanced on mortgage is two-thirds of the
value of the property."
"I dispute that, sir."
"Let it pass," said the squire, with a wave of the hand. "Call it
three-fifths, if you will. Even then the property is more mine than
yours. Women don't understand business, or you would see matters in a
different light."
"I am a woman, it is true, but I understand very well that you wish to
take advantage of me," said the widow, not without excusable
bitterness.
"My good lady, you forget that I am ready to cancel the mortgage and
pay you three hundred and fifty dollars for the house. Now, three
hundred and fifty dollars is a handsome sum--a very handsome sum. You
could put it in the savings bank and it would yield you quite a
comfortable income."
"Twenty dollars, more or less," said Mrs. Barclay. "Is that what you
call a comfortable income? How long do you think it would keep us
alive?"
"Added, of course, to your son's wages. Ben is now able to earn good
wages."
"He earns four dollars a week, and that is our main dependence."
"I congratulate you. I didn't suppose Mr. Crawford paid such high
wages."
"Ben earns every cent of it."
"Very possibly. By the way, what is this that Tom was telling me
about Ben being sent to New York to buy goods for the store?"
"It is true, if that is what you mean."
"Bless my soul! It is very strange of Crawford, and I may add, not
very judicious."
"I suppose Mr. Crawford is the best judge of that, sir."
"Even if the boy were competent, which is not for a moment to be
thought of, it is calculated to foster his self-conceit."
"Ben is not self-conceited," said Mrs. Barclay, ready to resent any
slur upon her boy. "He has excellent business capacity, and if he
were older I should not need to ask favors of anyone."
"You are a mother, and naturally set an exaggerated estimate upon your
son's ability, which, I presume, is respectable, but probably not
more. However, let that pass. I did not call to discuss Ben but to
inquire whether you had not thought better of the matter we discussed
the other evening."
"I never shall, Squire Davenport. When the time comes you can
foreclose, if you like, but it will never be done with my consent."
"Ahem! Your consent will not be required."
"And let me tell you, Squire Davenport, if you do this wicked thing,
it won't benefit you in the end."
Squire Davenport shrugged his shoulders.
"I am not at all surprised to find you so unreasonable, Mrs. Barclay,"
he said. "It's the way with women. I should be glad if you would
come to look upon the matter in a different light; but I cannot
sacrifice my own interests in any event. The law is on my side."
"The law may be on your side, but the law upholds a great deal that is
oppressive and cruel."
"A curious set of laws we should have if women made them," said the
squire.
"They would not bear so heavily upon the poor as they do now."
"Well, I won't stop to discuss the matter. If you come to entertain
different views about the house, send word by Ben, and we will arrange
the details without delay. Mr. Kirk is anxious to move his family as
soon as possible, and would like to secure the house at once."
"He will have to wait three months at least," said Mrs. Barclay
coldly. "For that time, I believe the law protects me."
"You are right there; but at the end of that tine you cannot expect as
liberal terms as we are now prepared to offer you."
"Liberal!" repeated the widow, in a meaning tone.
"So I regard it," said the squire stiffly. "Good-evening."
An hour later Mrs. Barclay's reflections were broken in upon by the
ominous clang of the engine bell. This is a sound which always
excites alarm in a country village.
"Where's the fire?" she asked anxiously, of a boy who was running by
the house.
"It's Crawford's store!" was the startling reply. "It's blazin' up
like anything. Guess it'll have to go."
"I hope Ben'll keep out of danger," thought Mrs. Barclay, as she
hurriedly took her shawl and bonnet and started for the scene of
excitement.