"Surely he cannot have sunk lower than this."
"Remembering his get-up I do not think so. Yet who knows? Some mystery
lies back of his whole conduct. Dining in your home, with this to come
back to! I don't wonder----"
But here a thought struck him. Pausing with his foot on the stair, he
turned a flushed countenance towards Mr. Sedgwick. "I've an idea," said
he. "Perhaps----" He whispered the rest.
Mr. Sedgwick stared and shook his shoulders. "Possibly," said he,
flushing slightly in his turn. Then, as they proceeded up, "I feel like
a brute, anyway. A sorry night's business all through, unless the end
proves better than the beginning."
"We'll start from the top. Something tells me that we shall find him
close under the roof. Can you read the names by such a light?"
"Barely; but I have matches."
And now there might have been witnessed by any chance home-comer the
curious sight of two extremely well-dressed men pottering through the
attic hall of this decaying old domicile, reading the cards on the doors
by means of a lighted match.
And vainly. On none of the cards could be seen the name they sought.
"We're on the wrong track," protested Mr. Blake. "No use keeping this
up," but found himself stopped, when about to turn away, by a gesture of
Sedgwick's.
"There's a light under the door you see there untagged," said he. "I'm
going to knock."
He did so. There was a sound within and then utter silence.
He knocked again. A man's step was heard approaching the door, then
again the silence.
Mr. Sedgwick made a third essay, and then the door was suddenly pulled
inward and in the gap they saw the handsome face and graceful figure of
the young man they had so lately encountered amid palatial surroundings.
But how changed! how openly miserable! and when he saw who his guests
were, how proudly defiant of their opinion and presence.
"You have found the coin," he quietly remarked. "I appreciate your
courtesy in coming here to inform me of it. Will not that answer,
without further conversation? I am on the point of retiring
and--and----"
Even the hardihood of a very visible despair gave way for an instant as
he met Mr. Sedgwick's eye. In the break which followed, the older man
spoke.
"Pardon us, but we have come thus far with a double purpose. First, to
tender our apologies, which you have been good enough to accept;
secondly, to ask, in no spirit of curiosity, I assure you, a question
that I seem to see answered, but which I should be glad to hear
confirmed by your lips. May we not come in?"
The question was put with a rare smile such as sometimes was seen on
this hard-grained handler of millions, and the young man, seeing it,
faltered back, leaving the way open for them to enter. The next minute
he seemed to regret the impulse, for backing against a miserable table
they saw there, he drew himself up with an air as nearly hostile as one
of his nature could assume.
"I know of no question," said he, "which I feel at this very late hour
inclined to answer. A man who has been tracked as I must have been for
you to find me here, is hardly in a mood to explain his poverty or the
mad desire for former luxuries which took him to the house of one
friendly enough, he thought, to accept his presence without inquiry as
to the place he lived in or the nature or number of the reverses which
had brought him to such a place as this."
"I do not--believe me----" faltered Mr. Sedgwick, greatly embarrassed
and distressed. In spite of the young man's attempt to hide the contents
of the table, he had seen the two objects lying there--a piece of bread
or roll, and a half-cocked revolver.
Mr. Blake had seen them, too, and at once took the word out of his
companion's mouth.
"You mistake us," he said coldly, "as well as the nature of our errand.
We are here from no motive of curiosity, as I have before said, nor from
any other which might offend or distress you. We--or rather I am here on
business. I have a position to offer to an intelligent, upright,
enterprising young man. Your name has been given me. It was given me
before this dinner, to which I went--if Mr. Sedgwick will pardon my
plain speaking--chiefly for the purpose of making your acquaintance. The
result was what you know, and possibly now you can understand my anxiety
to see you exonerate yourself from the doubts you yourself raised by
your attitude of resistance to the proposition made by that head-long,
but well-meaning, young man of many millions, Mr. Hammersley. I wanted
to find in you the honourable characteristics necessary to the man who
is to draw an eight thousand dollars a year salary under my eye. I still
want to do this. If then you are willing to make this whole thing plain
to me--for it is not plain--not wholly plain, Mr. Clifford--then you
will find in me a friend such as few young fellows can boast of, for I
like you--I will say that--and where I like----"
The gesture with which he ended the sentence was almost superfluous, in
face of the change which had taken place in the aspect of the man he
addressed. Wonder, doubt, hope, and again incredulity were lost at last
in a recognition of the other's kindly intentions toward himself, and
the prospects which they opened out before him. With a shame-faced look,
and yet with a manly acceptance of his own humiliation that was not
displeasing to his visitors, he turned about and pointing to the morsel
of bread lying on the table before them, he said to Mr. Sedgwick:
"Do you recognise that? It is from your table, and--and--it is not the
only piece I had hidden in my pockets. I had not eaten in twenty-four
hours when I sat down to dinner this evening. I had no prospect of
another morsel for to-morrow and--and--I was afraid of eating my
fill----there were ladies--and so--and so----"
They did not let him finish. In a flash they had both taken in the room.
Not an article which could be spared was anywhere visible. His
dress-suit was all that remained to him of former ease and luxury. That
he had retained, possibly for just such opportunities as had given him a
dinner to-night. Mr. Blake understood at last, and his iron lip
trembled.
"Have you no friends?" he asked. "Was it necessary to go hungry?"
"Could I ask alms or borrow what I could not pay? It was a position I
was after, and positions do not come at call. Sometimes they come
without it," he smiled with the dawning of his old-time grace on his
handsome face, "but I find that one can see his resources go, dollar by
dollar, and finally, cent by cent, in the search for employment no one
considers necessary to a man like me. Perhaps if I had had less pride,
had been willing to take you or any one else into my confidence, I might
not have sunk to these depths of humiliation; but I had not the
confidence in men which this last half hour has given me, and I went
blundering on, hiding my needs and hoping against hope for some sort of
result to my efforts. This pistol is not mine. I did borrow this, but I
did not mean to use it, unless nature reached the point where it could
stand no more. I thought the time had come to-night when I left your
house, Mr. Sedgwick, suspected of theft. It seemed the last straw;
but--but--a woman's look has held me back. I hesitated and--now you know
the whole," said he; "that is, if you can understand why it was more
possible for me to brave the contumely of such a suspicion than to open
my pockets and disclose the crusts I had hidden there."
"I can understand," said Mr. Sedgwick; "but the opportunity you have
given us for doing so must not be shared by others. We will undertake
your justification, but it must be made in our own way and after the
most careful consideration; eh, Mr. Blake?"
"Most assuredly; and if Mr. Clifford will present himself at my office
early in the morning, we will first breakfast and then talk business."
Young Clifford could only hold out his hand, but when, his two friends
gone, he sat in contemplation of his changed prospects, one word and one
only left his lips, uttered in every inflection of tenderness, hope,
and joy. "Edith! Edith! Edith!"
It was the name of the sweet young girl who had shown her faith in him
at the moment when his heart was lowest and despair at its culmination.