It was about a fortnight after the accident, that Tom was returning one
day from Mother Warboys' cottage, where the old woman had sat scowling
at him, while Pete lay back perfectly helpless, and smiled faintly at
his visitor, when he met Mrs Fidler by the gate looking out for him.
"There's some one come from London to see you, Master Tom."
"From London?"
"Yes, sir; he said his name was Pringle."
"Pringle!" cried Tom eagerly. "Where is he?"
"In the dining-room with your uncle, sir; and I was to send you in as
soon as you came back."
Tom hurried in, and found the clerk from Gray's Inn very smartly
dressed. His hat was all glossy, and there was a flower in his
button-hole.
"Ah, Pringle," cried the boy, "I'm so glad to see you. This is Pringle,
who was so kind to me, uncle, when I was at the office."
"Yes," said Uncle Richard, rather grimly; "Mr Pringle has already
introduced himself, and--ahem!--told me of the friendly feeling which
existed between you."
The clerk, who had evidently been very uncomfortable, had brightened up
a little at the sight of Tom, but his countenance fell again at Uncle
Richard's words.
"Now, Mr Pringle, perhaps you will be good enough to repeat that which
you have told me--in confidence, for I should like my nephew to hear it,
so that he can give his opinion upon the matter."
"Certainly, sir," said Pringle, brightening up, and becoming the
sharp-speaking clerk once more. "The fact is, Mr Thomas, I have left
Mr Brandon's office--which I won't deceive you, sir, he didn't give me
no chance to resign, but in consequence of a misunderstanding with Mr
Samuel, because I wouldn't tell lies for him, he sent me off at once."
"I am very sorry, Pringle," said Tom sympathetically.
"So am I, sir," replied the clerk; "and same time, so I ain't. But to
business, sir. So long as I was Mr Brandon's clerk, sir, my mouth
seemed to be shut, sir; but now I ain't Mr Brandon's clerk, sir, it's
open; and feeling, as I did, that there are things that you and your
respected uncle ought to hear--"
"About my uncle and cousin?" cried Tom, flushing.
"Yes, sir. There was certain papers, sir, as--"
"Thank you, Pringle," cried Tom quickly; "neither my Uncle Richard nor I
want to hear a single word about matters that are dead and buried."
"Thank you, Tom," cried Uncle Richard eagerly. "Mr Pringle will bear
me out when I say, that you have used my exact words."
"Yes, sir," said Pringle, looking into his hat, as if to consult the
maker's name. "I can corroborate that--the very words."
"So you see, Mr Pringle," continued Uncle Richard, rising to lay his
hand upon his nephew's shoulder, "you have brought your information to a
bad market, and if you expected to sell--"
"Which I'm sure I didn't, sir," cried the clerk, springing up, and
indignantly banging his hat down upon the table, to its serious injury
about the crown. "I never thought about a penny, sir, and I wouldn't
take one. I came down here, sir, because I was free, sir, and to try
and do a good turn to Mr Thomas here, sir, who was always a pleasant
young gentleman to me, and I didn't like the idea of his being done out
of his rights."
"Indeed!" said Uncle Richard, looking at the man searchingly.
"Yes, sir, indeed; I'd have spoken sooner if I could, but I always said
to myself there was plenty of time for it before Mr Thomas would be of
age. Good-morning, sir; good-morning, Mr Thomas. I'd like to shake
hands with you once more. I'm glad to see you, sir, grown so, and
looking so happy; but don't you go thinking that I came down on such a
mean errand as that. I ain't perfect, I know, and in some cases I might
have expected something, but I didn't here."
"I don't think you did, Pringle," cried Tom, holding out his hand, at
which the clerk snatched.
"Neither do I, Mr Pringle, now," said Uncle Richard, "though I did at
first. Thank you for your proffer, but once more, that unhappy business
is as a thing forgotten to my nephew and me."
"Very good, sir; I'm very sorry I came," began Pringle.
"And I am not. I beg your pardon, Mr Pringle; and I am sure my nephew
is very glad to see you."
"Oh, don't say no more about it, sir; I only thought--"
"Yes, you did not quite know us simple country people," said Uncle
Richard. "There, Tom, see that your visitor has some lunch. Dinner at
the usual time, and we'll have tea at half-past seven, so as to give you
both a long afternoon. I dare say Mr Pringle will enjoy a fine day in
the country."
"I should, sir, but I've to go back."
"Plenty of time for that," said Uncle Richard; "the station fly shall be
here to take you over in time for the last train. There, you will
excuse me."
That evening, as Tom rode over to the station with his visitor, and just
before he said good-bye, Pringle rubbed away very hard at his damaged
hat, but in vain, for the breakage still showed, and exclaimed--
"I don't care, sir, I won't believe it."
"Believe what, Pringle?"
"As them two's brothers, sir. It's against nature. Look here, I
wouldn't have it at first, but he was quite angry, and said I must, and
that I was to take it as a present from you."
"What is it?" said Tom; "a letter?"
"Yes, sir, to your uncle's lawyer, asking him as a favour to try and get
me work."
"Then you'll get it, Pringle," cried Tom.
"That I shall, sir. And look here, cheque on his banker for
five-and-twenty pounds, as he would make me have, to be useful till I
get a fresh clerkship. Now, ought I to take it, Mr Thomas?"
"Of course," cried Tom. "There, in with you. Good-night, Pringle,
good-night."
"But ought I to take that cheque, Mr Thomas? because I didn't earn it,
and didn't want to," cried Pringle, leaning out of the carriage window;
"Ought I to keep it, sir?"
"Yes," cried Tom, as the train moved off, and he ran along the platform,
"to buy a new hat."