It was just striking six when they again climbed over the wall, and
descended by the tree. They had had a discussion whether they
should wait until the doors were opened, and walk quietly in, or
return as they left. They adopted the latter plan, because they
thought that, if the matter was reported to Mr. Tulloch, he might
proceed to administer punishment before the admiral arrived to give
his version of the affair.
The door was still ajar. As they opened it, they gave an
exclamation of surprise--for there, sitting on a chair in the
passage, was Mr. Purfleet. He smiled unpleasantly.
"So here you are. You have had a pleasant ramble, no doubt; but I
don't quite know what view Mr. Tulloch may take of it."
"It was very good of you to sit up for us, Mr. Purfleet," Bob said,
quietly; "but you see, we had left the door open, and could have
got in by ourselves. I hope you will not have caught cold, sitting
there only in a dressing gown."
"You are an impudent young scamp!" Mr. Purfleet said, in a rage.
"You will laugh with the other side of your mouth, presently. You
and Sankey are nice-looking figures, ain't you, with your faces all
cut and swollen?"
"We have been a little in the wars," Bob replied.
"I don't want to hear anything about it," the usher replied. "You
will have to explain matters to Mr. Tulloch."
"So I suppose, Mr. Purfleet.
"Well, Jim, we'll go and have a good wash. The bell will be
ringing, in half an hour."
So saying, Bob went into the lavatory, followed by his companions;
while the usher returned upstairs. He was certainly disappointed.
Quietly as the boys had dressed, the slight noise they had made in
closing the door had woke him. He thought little of it but, just as
he was going off to sleep again, he heard the bolts of the door
below withdrawn. He at once got up and walked to the other end of
the dormitory, and discovered that the four boys were missing.
Chuckling to himself that he should now be able to repay the grudge
he owed to Bob, he put on his dressing gown and went downstairs;
and had sat there for three hours, momentarily expecting their
return. He had certainly felt chilly, but had borne it patiently;
comforted by the joyful expectation of the utter dismay that would
be felt, by the culprits, when they saw him. The meeting had not
passed off at all as he had anticipated, and he could only console
himself by thinking that his turn would come when he made his
report to Mr. Tulloch.
The four boys did not return to the dormitory but, after they had
washed, strolled about in the playground. There was quite a
ferment, in the dormitory, when their absence was perceived, and
the others noticed the four made-up figures in their place. The
operation of dressing was got through with much greater alacrity
than usual and, when they went downstairs and saw the four missing
boys in the playground, these were at once surrounded by an excited
throng. They refused, however, to answer any questions.
"You will hear it all, in good time," Bob said. "We have been out,
and we have been caught. That is all I am going to tell you."
At the usual hour the bell rang, and the boys assembled in the
schoolroom. The two ushers were in their places. They waited three
or four minutes for Mr. Tulloch to appear; then the door opened,
and the manservant entered and, walking up to Mr. Moffat, said a
word or two. The latter nodded.
"Lessons will begin at once," he said, in a loud voice. "The first
class will come up to me."
The boys of this class, who occupied the senior dormitory, at once
began their lessons; while Mr. Purfleet took the lower class. The
second class, including Bob and his friends, remained in their
places. In a quarter of an hour the door opened, and Mr. Tulloch
entered, accompanied by Admiral Langton. Mr. Tulloch was looking
very serious, while the admiral looked hot and angry.
"We are going to catch it," Bob whispered, to Jim Sankey. "I knew
the admiral wouldn't be able to get us off."
"I wish all the boys to return to their places, Mr. Moffat. I have
something to say," Mr. Tulloch said, in a loud voice.
When the boys were all seated, he went on:
"Admiral Langton has been telling me that four of my boys were out
and about, soon after three o'clock this morning. The four boys in
question will stand up.
"I do not say that this is the first time that such a serious
infraction of the rules of the school has taken place. It has
happened before. It may, for aught I know, have happened many
times, without my knowledge; but upon the occasions when it has
come to my knowledge, the offenders have been most severely
punished. They must be punished, now.
"Admiral Langton has been telling me that the boys in question have
behaved with very great courage, and have been the means of saving
him from the loss of a large sum of money and plate, and of
capturing four burglars."
A buzz of surprise passed round the school.
"That this conduct does them great credit I am fully prepared to
admit. Had they been aware that this burglary was about to be
committed, and had they broken out of the house in the middle of
the night for the purpose of preventing it, I allow that it might
have been pleaded as an excuse for their offence; but this was not
so. It was an accident, that occurred to them when they were
engaged in breaking the rules, and cannot be pleaded as a set-off
against punishment.
"Admiral Langton has pleaded with me, very strongly, for a pardon
for them; but I regret that I am unable to comply with his request.
The admiral, as a sailor, is well aware that discipline must be
maintained; and I am quite sure that, when he was in command of a
ship, he would not have permitted his judgment to be biased, by
anyone. I have put it to him in that way, and he acknowledges that
to be so. The two matters stand distinct. The boys must be punished
for this gross breach of the rules. They may be thanked, and
applauded, for the courage they have shown, and the valuable
service they have rendered to Admiral Langton.
"I have, however, so far yielded to his entreaties that, while I
must administer a severe caning for the gross breach of the rules,
I shall abstain from taking any further steps in the matter; and
from writing to the boys' parents and guardians, requesting them to
remove their sons from the school, at once, as I certainly
otherwise would have done. At the same time, I am willing to hear
anything that these boys may have to urge, in explanation or
defence of their conduct. I have already been informed, by Admiral
Langton, that their object, in so breaking out, was to hunt rabbits
up on the Common."
"I wish to say, sir," Bob said, in a steady voice, "that it was
entirely my doing. I made the arrangements, and persuaded the
others to go; and I think it is only right that they should not be
punished as severely as I am."
"We were all in it together, sir," Jim Sankey broke in. "I was just
as keen on it as Bob was."
"So was I," Fullarton and Wharton said, together.
"Well, lads," Admiral Langton said, taking a step forward, and
addressing the boys, in general, "as your master says, discipline is
discipline; this is his ship, and he is on his own quarterdeck--but
I wish to tell you all that, in my opinion, you have every reason to
be proud of your schoolfellows. They behaved with the greatest pluck
and gallantry and, were I again in command of a ship, I should be
glad to have them serving me. I am only sorry that I cannot persuade
Mr. Tulloch to see the matter in the same light as I do.
"Goodbye, lads!" and he walked across, and shook hands with the
four boys. "I shall see you again, soon," and the admiral turned
abruptly, and walked out of the schoolroom.
Mr. Tulloch at once proceeded to carry his sentence into effect,
and the four boys received as severe a caning as ever they had had
in their lives; and even Bob, case hardened as he was, had as much
as he could do to prevent himself from uttering a sound, while it
was being inflicted. Lessons were then continued, as usual, until
eight o'clock, when the boys went in to breakfast. After that was
over, they went into the playground, until nine; and the four
culprits gave the rest a full account of the events of the night.
"I don't mind the thrashing," Bob said, "although Tulloch did lay
it on hot. It was well worth it, if it had only been to see that
sneak Purfleet's face, when the admiral told the story. I was
watching him, when Tulloch came in; and saw how delighted he was,
at the tale he was going to tell; and how satisfied he was that he
should get no end of credit, for sitting three hours in his
dressing gown, in order to catch us when we came in. It was an
awful sell for him, when he saw that the admiral had come out with
the whole story, and there was nothing, whatever, for him to tell."
When they went into school again, Mr. Tulloch said:
"Boys, I hear that four of your number have behaved with great
gallantry. They have prevented a serious robbery, and arrested the
men engaged in it. I shall therefore give you a holiday, for the
remainder of the day. The four boys in question will proceed, at
once, to Admiral Langton's, as they will be required to accompany
him to Kingston, where the prisoners will be brought up before the
magistrates."
There was a general cheer from the boys, and then Bob and his
companions hurried upstairs to put on their best clothes, and ran
off to the admiral's.
"Well, boys, is it all over?" he asked, as they entered.
"All over, sir," they replied together.
"Well, boys, I think it was a shame; but I suppose discipline must
be maintained in school, as well as on board a ship; but it vexes
me, amazingly, to think that I have been the means of bringing you
into it."
"It is just the other way, sir," Bob said, "and it is very lucky
for us that we came in here, sir, instead of going up to the
Common, as we intended. One of the ushers found out that we had
gone, and sat up until we came back and, if it had not been for
you, we should not only have got a thrashing, but should all have
been expelled; so it is the luckiest thing possible that we came in
here."
"Well, I am very glad to hear that, boys. It has taken a load off
my mind, for I have been thinking that, if you had not come in to
help me, you would have got back without being noticed.
"Emma, these are the four lads who did us such good service, last
night. They caught sight of you, before, but you were hardly in a
state to receive them formally."
The young lady laughed, as she came forward and shook hands with
them.
"You need not have mentioned that, papa.
"Well, I am very much obliged to you all; for I have no doubt they
meant to have my watch and jewels, as well as papa's money."
"Now, it is time for us to be off," the admiral said. "My carriage
is at the door, and a fly. You two, who have been knocked about,
had better come with my daughter and myself. The others can either
ride inside the fly, or one can go on the box of each vehicle, as
you like."
Wharton and Fullarton both said that they should prefer going
outside; and in a few minutes they were on their way, the three
menservants riding inside the fly. The prisoners had been sent off,
two hours before, in a cart; under the charge of the two local
constables.
The case lasted but an hour, the four men being all committed for
trial. The party then returned to Putney, the admiral insisting
upon the boys stopping to lunch with him. After the meal was over,
he inquired what they were going to do, on leaving school, and what
profession they intended to adopt.
Bob was the first questioned.
"I am going to be a wine merchant, sir," he said. "I have got no
choice about it. I lost my father and mother, years ago; and my
guardian, who is an uncle of mine, is in the wine trade, and he
says I have got to go in, too. I think it is horrid, but there is
no good talking to him. He is an awfully crusty old chap. I should
like to be a soldier, or a sailor; but of course it is of no use
thinking of it. My guardian has been very kind to me, even though
he is so crusty, and it wouldn't be right not to do as he tells me;
and I don't suppose the wine business is so very bad, when one is
accustomed to it."
"Has your uncle any sons, lad?"
"No, sir, he is an old bachelor; and he says that, some day, I am
to have his business."
"Then you can't do better than stick to it, lad," the admiral said.
"A boy who has before him the prospect of a solid, substantial
living, on shore, is simply a fool if he goes to sea. It is a rough
life, and a hard one; and if you don't get shot, or drowned, you
may get laid on the shelf with the loss of a limb, and a pension
that won't find you in grog and tobacco.
"It is a pity, for you would have made a good officer, but you will
be vastly better off, in all respects, at home; and I can tell you
there is not one sailor out of five who would not jump at a berth
on shore, if he could get the chance."
Sankey's father was a country clergyman and, at present, Jim had no
particular prospect.
"Would you like to go to sea, boy?"
"Yes, sir, I should like it of all things."
"Very well; give me your father's name and address, and I will
write to him about it."
Fullarton's father was a landed proprietor in Somersetshire, and he
was the eldest son. Wharton was to be a lawyer, and was to begin in
his father's office, in a year or two. Admiral Langton took notes
of the addresses of the boys' relatives.
When he had done that, he said to them:
"Now, lads, I know you would rather be off. I remember, when I was
a midshipman, I was always glad enough to escape, when I had to
dine with the captain."
A week later, a young man came down from a city watchmaker's, with
four handsome gold watches and chains for the boys; with an
inscription stating that they had been presented to them by Admiral
Langton, in remembrance of their gallant conduct on the night of
August 6th, 1778. They were immensely delighted with the gift; for
watches were, in those days, far more expensive luxuries than at
present, and their use was comparatively rare. With the watches
were four short notes from the admiral, inviting them to come up on
the following Saturday afternoon.
They had, by this time, received letters from their families, who
had each received a communication from the admiral, expressing his
warm commendation of their conduct, and his thanks for the services
that the boys had rendered.
Jim Sankey's father wrote saying that the admiral had offered to
procure him a berth as a midshipman, at once; and that he had
written, thankfully accepting the offer, as he knew that it was
what Jim had been most earnestly wishing--though, as he had no
interest, whatever, among naval men, he had hitherto seen no chance
of his being able to obtain such an appointment. This communication
put Jim into a state of the wildest delight, and rendered him an
object of envy to his schoolfellows.
Fullarton's father wrote his son a hearty letter, congratulating
him on what he had done, and saying that he felt proud of the
letter he had received from the admiral.
Wharton's father wrote to him sharply, saying that thief-taking was
a business that had better be left to constables, and that he did
not approve of freaks of that kind.
Mr. Bale wrote an irascible letter to Bob.
"My dear nephew," he began, "I am astonished, and most seriously
displeased, at contents of communication I have received from a
person signing himself J. Langton, admiral. I gather from it that,
instead of pursuing your studies, you are wandering about at night,
engaged in pursuits akin to poaching. I say akin, because I am not
aware whether the wild animals upon the common are the property of
the lord of the manor, or whether they are at the mercy of
vagabonds. It appears to me that there can be no proper supervision
exercised by your masters.
"I spoke to you when you were here, six weeks ago, as to your
school reports which, although fairly satisfactory as to your
abilities, said there was a great want of steadiness in your
general conduct. I am convinced that you are doing no good for
yourself, and that the sooner you settle down to a desk, in my
office, the better. I have therefore written this morning,
informing Mr. Tulloch that I shall remove you, at Michaelmas.
"Your sister has been here, with her husband, today. I am sorry to
say that they do not view your wild and lawless conduct in the same
light that I do, and that they are unable to see there is anything
positively disreputable in your being mixed up in midnight
adventures with burglars. I am glad to gather, from Admiral
Langton's letter, that Mr. Tulloch has seen your conduct in the
proper light, and has inflicted a well-merited punishment upon you.
"All this is a very bad preparation for your future career as a
respectable trader, and I am most annoyed to hear that you will be
called on to appear as a witness against the men who have been
captured. I have written to Admiral Langton, acknowledging his
letter, and expressing my surprise that a gentleman in his position
should give any countenance, whatever, to a lad who has been
engaged in breaking the rules of his school; and in wandering at
night, like a vagabond, through the country."
Bob looked rather serious as he read through the letter for the
first time but, after going through it again, he burst into a shout
of laughter.
"What is it, Bob?" Tom Fullarton asked.
"Read this letter, Tom. I should like to have seen the admiral's
face, as he read my uncle's letter. But it is too bad. You see, I
have regularly done for myself. I was to have stopped here till a
year come Christmas, and now I have to leave at Michaelmas. I call
it a beastly shame."
It was some consolation to Bob to receive, next morning, a letter
from his sister, saying she was delighted to hear how he had
distinguished himself in the capture of the burglars.
"Of course, it was very wrong of you to get out at night; but
Gerald says that boys are always up to tricks of that sort, and so
I suppose that it wasn't so bad as it seems to me. Uncle John
pretends to be in a terrible rage about it, but I don't think he is
really as angry as he makes himself out to be. He blew me up, and
said that I had always encouraged you--which of course I
haven't--and when Gerald tried to say a good word for you, he
turned upon him, and said something about fellow-feeling making men
wondrous kind. Gerald only laughed, and said he was glad my uncle
had such a good opinion of him, and that he should have liked to
have been there, to lend a hand in the fight; and then uncle said
something disagreeable, and we came away.
"But I feel almost sure that Uncle John is not really so angry as
he seems; and I believe that, if Gerald and I had taken the other
side, and had said that your conduct had been very wicked, he would
have defended you. It was stupid of us not to think of it, for you
know uncle always likes to disagree with other people--there is
nothing he hates more than their agreeing with him. His bark is
much worse than his bite, and you must not forget how good and kind
he has been to us all.
"You know how angry he was with my marriage, and he said I had
better have drowned myself, than have married a soldier; and I had
better have hung myself, than have married an Irishman--specially
when he had intended, all along, that I should marry the son of an
old friend of his, a most excellent and well-conducted young man,
with admirable prospects. But he came round in a month or two, and
the first notice of it was a letter from his lawyer, saying that,
in accordance with the instruction of his client, Mr. John Bale, he
had drawn up and now enclosed a post-nuptial settlement, settling
on me the sum of 5000 pounds consols; and that his client wished
him to say that, had I married the person he had intended for me,
that sum would have been doubled.
"The idea, when I never even saw the man! And when I wrote,
thanking him, he made no allusion to what he had said before; but
wrote that he should be glad, at all times, to see my husband and
myself, whenever we came to town; but that, as I knew, his hours
were regular, and the door always locked at ten o'clock--just as if
Gerald was in the habit of coming in, drunk, in the middle of the
night! Fortunately nothing puts Gerald out, and he screamed over
it; and we went and stopped a week with uncle, a month afterwards,
and he and Gerald got on capitally together, considering. Gerald
said it was like a bear and a monkey in one cage, but it was really
very funny.
"So I have no doubt he will come round, with you. Do try and not
vex him more than you can help, Bob. You know how much we all owe
him."
This was true. Bob's father had died when he was only three years
old--he being a lawyer, with a good business, at Plymouth--but he
had made no provision for his early death, and had left his wife
and two children almost penniless. Mr. Bale had at once taken
charge of them, and had made his sister an allowance that enabled
her to live very comfortably. She had remained in Plymouth, as she
had many friends there.
Her daughter Carrie--who was six years older than Bob--had, four
years before, married Gerald O'Halloran, who was then a lieutenant
in the 58th Regiment, which was in garrison there. He had a small
income, derived from an estate in Ireland, besides his pay; but the
young couple would have been obliged to live very economically, had
it not been for the addition of the money settled on her by her
uncle.
Her mother had died, a few months after the marriage; and Mr. Bale
had at once placed Bob at the school, at Putney; and had announced
his intention of taking him, in due time, into his business. The
boy always spent one half of his holidays with his uncle, the other
with his sister. The former had been a trial, both to him and to
Mr. Bale. They saw but little of each other; for Mr. Bale, who,
like most business men of the time, lived over his offices, went
downstairs directly he had finished his breakfast, and did not come
up again until his work was over when, at five o'clock, he dined.
The meal over, he sometimes went out to the houses of friends, or
to the halls of one or other of the city companies to which he
belonged.
While Bob was with him, he told off one of the foremen in his
business to go about with the boy. The days, therefore, passed
pleasantly, as they generally went on excursions by water up or
down the river or, sometimes, when it was not otherwise required,
in a light cart used in the business, to Epping or Hainault Forest.
Bob was expected to be back to dinner and, thanks to the
foreman--who knew that his employer would not tolerate the smallest
unpunctuality--he always succeeded in getting back in time to wash
and change his clothes for dinner.
The meal was a very solemn one, Mr. Bale asking occasional
questions, to which Bob returned brief answers. Once or twice the
boy ventured upon some lively remark, but the surprise and
displeasure expressed in his uncle's face, at this breach of the
respectful silence then generally enforced upon the young, in the
presence of their elders, deterred him from often trying the
experiment.
Mr. Bale was as much bored as was Bob by these meals, and the
evenings that sometimes followed them. He would have been glad to
have chatted more freely with his nephew, but he was as ill at ease
with him, as he would have been with a young monkey. There was
nothing in common between them, and the few questions he asked were
the result of severe cogitation. He used to glance at the boy from
under his eyebrows, wonder what he was smiling to himself about,
and wish that he understood him better. It did not occur to him
that if he had drawn him out, and encouraged him to chatter as he
liked, he should get underneath the surface, and might learn
something of the nature hidden there. It was in sheer desperation,
at finding nothing to say, that he would often seize his hat and go
out, when he had quite made up his mind to stay indoors for the
evening.
Bob put up, as well as he could, with his meals and the dull
evenings, for the sake of the pleasant time he had during the day;
but he eagerly counted the hours until the time when he was to take
his place on the coach for Canterbury, where the 58th were now
quartered. He looked forward with absolute dread to the time when
he would have to enter his uncle's office.
"What is the use of being rich, Carrie," he would say to his
sister, "if one lives as uncle does? I would rather work in the
fields."
"Yes, Bob; but you see, when you get to be rich you needn't live in
the same way, at all. You could live as some traders do, in the
country at Hampstead, Dulwich, or Chelsea, and ride in to business;
and you can, of course, marry and enjoy life. One needn't live like
a hermit, all alone, because one is a trader in the city."
The one consolation Bob had was that his uncle had once said that
he considered it was a great advantage, to any young man going into
the wine trade, to go over to Spain or Portugal for two or three
years; to learn the whole routine of business there, to study the
different growths and know their values, and to form a connection
among the growers and shippers. Bob had replied gravely that he
thought this would certainly be a great advantage, and that he
hoped his uncle would send him over there.
"I shall see, when the time comes, Robert. It will, of course,
depend much upon the relations between this country and Spain and
Portugal; and also upon yourself. I could not, of course, let you
go out there until I was quite assured of your steadiness of
conduct. So far, although I have nothing to complain of, myself,
your schoolmaster's reports are by no means hopeful, on that head.
Still, we must hope that you will improve."
It was terrible to Bob to learn that he was to go, fifteen months
sooner than he had expected, to his uncle's; but he was somewhat
relieved when, upon his arrival at the house at Philpot Lane, his
uncle, after a very grave lecture on the enormity of his conduct at
school, said:
"I have been thinking, Robert, that it will be more pleasant, both
for you and for me, that you should not, at present, take up your
abode here. I am not accustomed to young people. It would worry me
having you here and, after your companionship with boys of your own
age, you might find it somewhat dull.
"I have therefore arranged with Mr. Medlin, my principal clerk, for
you to board with him. He has, I believe, some boys and girls of
about your own age. You will, I hope, be able to make yourself
comfortable there."
"Thank you, uncle," Bob said, suppressing his impulse to give a
shout of satisfaction, and looking as grave as possible. "I think
that would be a very nice arrangement."
"Mr. Medlin is a very trustworthy person," Mr. Bale went on. "He
has been with me for upwards of twenty years, and I have the
greatest confidence in him.
"You had better sit down here, and take a book. At five o'clock
come down into the counting house. Mr. Medlin will leave at that
hour."
Bob had hitherto avoided the counting house. He had occasionally,
on previous visits, slipped down to his friend the foreman; and had
wandered through the great cellars, and watched the men at work
bottling, and gazed in surprise at the long tiers of casks stacked
up to the roof of the cellar, and the countless bottles stowed away
in the bins. Once or twice he had gone down into the counting
house, with his uncle; and waited there a few minutes, until the
foreman was disengaged. He had noticed Mr. Medlin at work at his
high desk, in one corner--keeping, as it seemed to him, his eye
upon two young clerks, who sat on high stools at opposite sides of
the desk, on the other side of the office.
Mr. Medlin had a little rail round the top of his desk, and
curtains on rods that could be drawn round it. He was a man of six
or seven and thirty; with a long face, smooth shaven. He always
seemed absorbed in his work and, when spoken to by Mr. Bale,
answered in the fewest possible words, in an even, mechanical
voice. It had seemed to Bob that he had been entirely oblivious to
his presence; and it did not appear to him now, as he sat with a
book before him, waiting for the clock on the mantel to strike
five, that existence at Mr. Medlin's promised to be a lively one.
Still, as there were boys and girls, it must be more amusing than
it would be at his uncle's and, at any rate, the clerk would not be
so formidable a personage to deal with as Mr. Bale.
At one minute to five he went down, so as to open the counting
house door as the clock struck. As he went in through the outer
door, his uncle came out from the inner office.
"Ah! There you are, Robert.
"Mr. Medlin, this is my nephew who, as we have arranged, will take
up his residence with you. I am afraid you will find him somewhat
headstrong and troublesome. I have already informed you why it has
been necessary to remove him from school. However, I trust that
there will be no repetition of such follies; and that he will see
the necessity of abandoning schoolboy pranks, and settling down to
business."
"Yes, sir," Mr. Medlin replied, seeing that his employer expected
an answer.
Bob had noticed that, although the clerk's eyes were directed upon
him, there appeared to be no expression of interest or curiosity in
them; but that they might as well have been fixed upon a blank
wall.
"Your boxes have already been sent round in the cart to Mr.
Medlin's, Robert. I don't know that there is anything else to say.
Mr. Medlin will, of course, put you in the way of your duties here;
but if you have anything to say to me--any questions to ask, or any
remarks, connected with the business, or otherwise, you wish to
make--I shall always be ready to listen to you, if you will come
into the counting house at half past four."
So saying, Mr. Bale retired into his private room again. Mr. Medlin
placed his papers inside his desk, locked it, took off his coat and
hung it on a peg, put on another coat and his hat, and then turned
to Bob.
"Ready?"
"Quite ready."
Mr. Medlin led the way out of the counting house, and Bob followed.
Mr. Medlin walked fast, and Bob had to step out to keep up with
him. The clerk appeared scarcely conscious of his presence, until
they were beyond the more crowded thoroughfare, then he said:
"Two miles, out Hackney way. Not too far!"
"Not at all," Bob replied. "The farther the better."
"No burglars there. Wouldn't pay."
And Bob thought that the shadow of a smile passed across his face.
"We can do without them," Bob said.
"Hate coming here, I suppose?"
"That I do," Bob said, cordially.
Mr. Medlin nodded.
"Not so bad as it looks," he said, and then walked on again, in
silence.
Presently there was a break in the houses. They were getting beyond
the confines of business London.
"Do you see this little garden?" Mr. Medlin asked, suddenly, in a
tone so unlike that in which he had before spoken that Bob quite
started.
The lad looked at the little patch of ground, with some stunted
shrubs, but could see nothing remarkable in it.
"Yes, I see it, sir," he said.
"That, Bob," Mr. Medlin went on, "--for I suppose you are called
Bob--marks the end of all things."
Bob opened his eyes in astonishment, and again examined the little
garden.
"It marks, Bob, the delimitation between London and country,
between slavery and freedom. Here, every morning, I leave myself
behind; here, every evening, I recover myself--or, at least, a
considerable portion of myself--at a further mark, half a mile on,
I am completely restored.
"I suppose you used to find just the same thing, at the door of the
schoolroom?"
"A good deal, sir," Bob said, in a much brighter tone than he had
used, since he said goodbye to the fellows at Tulloch's.
"I am glad you feel like that. I expect you will get like that, as
to the city, in time; but mind, lad, you must always find yourself
again. You stick to that. You make a mark somewhere, leave yourself
behind in the morning, and pick yourself up again when you come
back. It is a bad thing for those who forget to do that. They might
as well hang themselves--better.
"In there," and he jerked his thumb back over his shoulder, "we are
all machines, you know. It isn't us, not a bit of it. There is just
the flesh, the muscle, the bones, and a frozen bit of our brains.
The rest of us is left behind. If, as we come out, we forget to
pick it up, we lose ourselves altogether, before long; and then
there we are, machines to the end of our lives. You remember that,
Bob. Keep it always in mind."
"It is a pity that my uncle didn't get the same advice, forty years
ago, Mr. Medlin."
"It is a pity my employer did not marry. It is a pity my employer
lives in that dull house, in that dull lane, all by himself," Mr.
Medlin said, angrily.
"But he has not got rid of himself, altogether. He is a good deal
frozen up; but he thaws out, sometimes. What a man he would be, if
he would but live out somewhere, and pick himself up regularly, as
I do, every day!
"This is my second mark, Bob, this tree growing out in the road.
Now, you see, we are pretty well in the country.
"Can you run?"
"Yes, I can run pretty well, Mr. Medlin."
"Very well, Bob. You see that tree growing out beyond that garden
wall, about four hundred yards on. It is four hundred and twenty,
for I have measured it. Now then, you walk on fifty yards, and then
run for your life. See if I don't catch you, before you are there."
Bob, wondering as he went along at the astounding change that had
come over his companion, took fifty long steps; then he heard a
shout of "Now!" and went off at the top of his speed. He was still
a hundred yards from the mark, when he heard steps coming rapidly
up behind him; and then the clerk dashed past him, and came in
fully twenty yards ahead.
"You don't run badly," he said, as Bob stopped, panting. "My Jack
generally comes to meet me, and I always give him seventy yards,
and only beat him by about as much as I do you. He couldn't come,
this afternoon. He is busy helping his mother to get things
straight. I expect we shall meet him, presently.
"Well, what are you laughing at?"
"I was just thinking how astonished my uncle would be, if he were
to see us."
Mr. Medlin gave a hearty laugh.
"Not so much as you would think, Bob. Five years ago, my employer
suddenly asked me, just as we were shutting up one afternoon, if I
was fond of fishing. I said that I used to be.
"He said, 'I am going down, for a fortnight, into Hampshire. I have
no one to go with--suppose you come with me.'
"I said, 'I will.'
"He said, 'Coach tomorrow morning, eight o'clock, Black Horse
Yard.'
"I was there. As we went over London Bridge I found myself, as
usual; and he found himself. I explained to him that I could not
help it. He said he didn't want me to help it. We had a glorious
fortnight together, and we have been out every year, since. He
never alludes to it, between times. No more do I. He is stiffer
than usual for a bit. So am I. But we both know each other.
"You do not suppose that he would have sent you to me, if he hadn't
known that I have got another side to me?"
"Well, I should not have thought," Bob said, "from the way he
talked, when he introduced me to you, that he ever had such an idea
in his mind."
"He was obliged to talk so," Mr. Medlin said, laughing. "We were
just machines at the time, both of us. But he talked in quite a
different way when we were down fishing together, three weeks ago.
He said then you were rather a pickle, and that he didn't think you
would do yourself any good where you were, so that he was going to
bring you up to business.
"'I don't want him to turn out a dull blockhead,' he said, 'and so
I propose that you should take charge of him, and teach him to keep
himself young. I wish I had done it, myself.'
"And so it was settled.
"There is no better employer in the city than your uncle. There is
not a man or boy about the place who isn't well paid, and
contented. I used to think myself a lucky man, before we went out
fishing together for the first time but, six months after that, he
gave me a rise that pretty well took my breath away.
"Ah! Here come the young uns."
A couple of minutes later, four young people ran up. There was a
boy about Bob's age, a girl a year younger, a boy, and another
girl, in regular steps. They greeted their father with a joyous
shout of welcome.
"So you have got everything done," he said. "I thought you would
meet me somewhere here.
"This is Bob Repton, my employer's nephew, and future member of the
firm. Treat him with all respect, and handle him gently. He is a
desperate fellow, though he doesn't look it. This is the young
gentleman I told you of, who made a night expedition and captured
four burglars."
After this introduction, Bob was heartily shaken by the hand, all
round; and the party proceeded on their way, the two girls holding
their father's hand, the boys walking behind, with Bob, who was so
surprised at the unexpected turn affairs had taken that, for a
time, he almost lost his usual readiness of speech.