FOX AND WOLF.
Mr. James, left to himself, attempted, in accordance with his daily
custom, to commit a dishonorable action.
That is to say, he first listened carefully to the retreating
footsteps of his master, as he went up the stairs; then he left his
table, crept stealthily into the back shop, and began to pull the
drawers, turn the handle of the safe, and try the desk. Everything was
carefully locked. Then he turned over all the papers on the table, but
found nothing that contained the information he looked for. It was his
daily practice thus to try the locks, in hope that some day the safe,
or the drawers, or the desk would be left open by accident, when he
might be able to solve a certain problem, the doubt and difficulty of
which sore let and hindered him--namely, of what extent, and where
placed, were those great treasures, savings, and investments which
enabled his master to be careless over his business. It was, further,
customary with him to be thus frustrated and disappointed. Having
briefly, therefore, also in accordance with his usual custom,
expressed his disgust at this want of confidence between master and
man, Mr. James returned to his paste and scissors.
About a quarter past six the shop door was cautiously opened, and a
head appeared, which looked round stealthily. Seeing nobody about
except Mr. James, the head nodded, and presently followed by its body,
stepped into the shop.
"Where's the admiral, Foxy?" asked the caller.
"Guv'nor's upstairs, Mr. Joseph, taking of his tea with Miss Iris,"
replied Mr. James, not at all offended by the allusion to his
craftiness. Who should resemble the fox if not the second-hand
bookseller? In no trade, perhaps, can the truly admirable qualities of
that animal--his patience, his subtlety and craft, his pertinacity,
his sagacity--be illustrated more to advantage. Mr. James felt a glow
of virtue--would that he could grow daily and hourly, and more and
more toward the perfect fox. Then, indeed, and not till then would he
be able to live truly up to his second-hand books.
"Having tea with Iris; well--"
The speaker looked as if it required some effort to receive this
statement with resignation.
"He always does at six o'clock. Why shouldn't he?" asked Mr. James.
"Because, James, he spends the time in cockering up that gal whom he's
ruined and spoiled--him and the old nigger between them--so that her
mind is poisoned against her lawful relations, and nothing will
content her but coming into all the old man's money, instead of going
share and share alike, as a cousin should, and especially a
she-cousin, while there's a biscuit left in the locker and a drop of
rum in the cask."
"Ah!" said Mr. James with a touch of sympathy, called forth, perhaps,
by mention of the rum, which is a favorite drink with second-hand
booksellers' assistants.
"Nothing too good for her," the other went on; "the best of education,
pianos to play upon, and nobody good enough for her to know. Not on
visiting terms, if you please, with her neighbors; waiting for
duchesses to call upon her. And what is she, after all? A miserable
teacher!"
Mr. Joseph Gallop was a young man somewhere between twenty and thirty,
tall, large-limbed, well set-up, and broad-shouldered. A young man
who, at first sight, would seem eminently fitted to push his own
fortunes. Also, at first sight, a remarkably handsome fellow, with
straight, clear-cut features and light, curly hair. When he swung
along the street, his round hat carelessly thrown back, and his
handsome face lit up by the sun, the old women murmured a blessing
upon his comely head--as they used to do, a long time ago, upon the
comely and curly head of Absalom--and the young women looked meaningly
at one another--as was also done in the case of Absalom--and the
object of their admiration knew that they were saying to each other,
in the feminine way, where a look is as good as a whisper, "There goes
a handsome fellow." Those who knew him better, and had looked more
closely into his face, said that his mouth was bad and his eyes
shifty. The same opinion was held by the wiser sort as regards his
character. For, on the one hand, some averred that to their certain
knowledge Joe Gallop had shown himself a monster of ingratitude toward
his grandfather, who had paid his debts and done all kinds of things
for him; on the other hand there were some who thought he had been
badly treated; and some said that no good would ever come of a young
fellow who was never able to remain in the same situation more than a
month or so; and others said that he had certainly been unfortunate,
but that he was a quick and clever young man, who would some day find
the kind of work that suited him, and then he would show everybody of
what stuff he was composed. As for us, we have only to judge of him by
his actions.
"Perhaps, Mr. Joseph," said Mr. James, "perhaps Miss Iris won't have
all bequeathed to her?"
"Do you know anything?" Joe asked quickly. "Has he made a new will
lately?"
"Not that I know of. But Mr. Chalker has been here off and on a good
bit now."
"Ah! Chalker's a close one, too. Else he'd tell me, his old friend.
Look here, Foxy," he turned a beaming and smiling face upon the
assistant. "If you should see anything or find anything out, tell me,
mind. And, remember, I'll make it worth your while."
Mr. James looked as it he was asking himself how Joseph could make it
worth his while, seeing that he got nothing more from his grandfather,
and by his own showing never would have anything more.
"It's only his will I'm anxious to know about; that, and where he's
put away all his money. Think what a dreadful thing it would be for
his heirs if he were to go and die suddenly, and none of us to know
where his investments are. As for the shop, that is already disposed
of, as I dare say you know."
"Disposed of? The shop disposed of! Oh, Lord!" The assistant turned
pale. "Oh, Mr. Joseph," he asked earnestly, "what will become of the
shop? And who is to have it?"
"I am to have it," Mr. Joseph replied calmly. This was the lie
absolute, and he invented it very cleverly and at the right moment--a
thing which gives strength and life to a lie, because he already
suspected the truth and guessed the secret hope and ambition which
possesses every ambitious assistant in this trade--namely, to get the
succession. Mr. James looked upon himself as the lawful and rightful
heir to the business. But sometimes he entertained grievous doubts,
and now indeed his heart sunk into his boots. "I am to have it," Joe
repeated.
"Oh, I didn't know. You are to have it, then? Oh!"
If Mr. James had been ten years younger, I think he would have burst
into tears. But at the age of forty weeping no longer presents itself
as a form of relief. It is more usual to seek consolation in a swear.
He stammered, however, while he turned pale, and then red, and then
pale again.
"Yes, quite proper, Mr. Joseph, I'm sure, and a most beautiful
business may be made again here by one who understands the way. Oh,
you are a lucky man, Mr. Joseph. You are indeed, sir, to get such a
noble chance."
"The shop," Joe went on, "was settled--settled upon me, long ago." The
verb "to settle" is capable of conveying large and vague impressions.
"But after all, what's the good of this place to a sailor?"
"The good--the good of this place?" Mr. James's cheek flushed. "Why, to
make money, to be sure--to coin money in. If I had this place to
myself--why--why, in two years I would be making as much as two
hundred a year. I would indeed."
"You want to make money. Bah! That's all you fellows think of. To sit
in the back shop all day long and to sell moldy books! We jolly sailor
boys know better than that, my lad."
There really was something nautical about the look of the man. He wore
a black-silk tie, in a sailor's running-knot, the ends loose; his
waistcoat was unbuttoned, and his coat was a kind of jacket; not to
speak of his swinging walk and careless pose. In fact, he had been a
sailor; he had made two voyages to India and back as assistant-purser,
or purser's clerk, on board a P. and O. boat, but some disagreement
with his commanding officer concerning negligence, or impudence, or
drink, or laziness--he had been charged in different situations and at
different times with all these vices, either together or
separately--caused him to lose his rating on the ship's books.
However, he brought away from his short nautical experience, and
preserved, a certain nautical swagger, which accorded well with his
appearance, and gave him a swashbuckler air, which made those who knew
him well lament that he had not graced the Elizabethan era, when he
might have become a gallant buccaneer, and so got himself shot through
the head; or that he had not flourished under the reign of good Queen
Anne, when he would probably have turned pirate and been hanged; or
that, being born in the Victorian age, he had not gone to the Far
West, where he would, at least, have had the chance of getting shot in
a gambling-saloon.
"As for me, when I get the business," he continued, "I shall look
about for some one to carry it on until I am able to sell it for what
it will fetch. Books at a penny apiece all round, I suppose"--James
gasped--"shop furniture thrown in"--James panted--"and the goodwill
for a small lump sum." James wondered how far his own savings, and
what he could borrow, might go toward that lump sum, and how much
might "remain." "My grandfather, as you know, of course, is soon going
to retire from business altogether." This was another lie absolute, as
Mr. Emblem had no intention whatever of retiring.
"Soon, Mr. Joseph? He has never said a word to me about it."
"Very soon, now--sooner than you expect. At seventy-five, and with
all his money, why should he go on slaving any longer? Very soon,
indeed. Any day."
"Mr. Joseph," the assistant positively trembled with eagerness and
apprehension.
"What is it, James? Did you really think that a man like me was going
to sit in a back shop among these moldy volumes all day? Come, that's
too good. You might have given me credit for being one cut above a
counter, too. I am a gentleman, James, if you please; I am an officer
and a gentleman."
He then proceeded to explain, in language that smacked something of
the sea, that his ideas soared far above trade, which was, at best, a
contemptible occupation, and quite unworthy of a gentleman,
particularly an officer and a gentleman; and that his personal friends
would never condescend even to formal acquaintance, not to speak of
friendship, with trade. This discourse may be omitted. When one reads
about such a man as Joe Gallop, when we are told how he looked and
what he said and how he said it, with what gestures and in what tone,
we feel as if it would be impossible for the simplest person in the
world to be mistaken as to his real character. My friends, especially
my young friends, so far from the discernment of character being easy,
it is, on the contrary, an art most difficult, and very rarely
attained. Nature's indications are a kind of handwriting the
characters in which are known to few, so that, for instance, the
quick, enquiring glance of an eye, in which one may easily read--who
knows the character--treachery, lying, and deception, just as in the
letter Beth was originally easily discerned the effigies of a house,
may very easily pass unread by the multitude. The language, or rather
the alphabet, is much less complicated than the cuneiform of the Medes
and Persians, yet no one studies it, except women, most of whom are
profoundly skilled in this lore, which makes them so fearfully and
wonderfully wise. Thus it is easy for man to deceive his brother man,
but not his sister woman. Again, most of us are glad to take everybody
on his own statements; there are, or may be, we are all ready to
acknowledge, with sorrow for erring humanity, somewhere else in the
world, such things as pretending, swindling, acting a part, and
cheating, but they do not and cannot belong to our own world. Mr.
James, the assistant, very well knew that Mr. Emblem's grandson had
already, though still young, as bad a record as could be desired by
any; that he had been turned out of one situation after another; that
his grandfather had long since refused to help him any more; that he
was always to be found in the Broad Path which leadeth to destruction.
When he had money he ran down that path as fast as his legs could
carry him; when he had none, he only walked and wished he could run.
But he never left it, and never wished to leave it. Knowing all this,
the man accepted and believed every word of Joe's story. James
believed it, because he hoped it. He listened respectfully to Joe's
declamation on the meanness of trade, and then he rubbed his hands,
and said humbly that he ventured to hope, when the sale of the
business came on, Mr. Joseph would let him have a chance.
"You?" asked Joe. "I never thought of you. But why not? Why not, I
say? Why not you as well as anybody else?"
"Nobody but me, Mr. Joseph, knows what the business is, and how it
might be improved; and I could make arrangements for paying by regular
instalments."
"Well, we'll talk about it when the time comes. I won't forget.
Sailors, you know, can't be expected to understand the value of shops.
Say, James, what does the commodore do all day?"
"Sits in there and adds up his investments."
"Always doing that--eh? Always adding 'em up? Ah, and you've never got
a chance of looking over his shoulder, I suppose?"
"Never."
"You may find that chance, one of these days. I should like to know,
if only for curiosity, what they are and where they are. He sits in
there and adds 'em up. Yes--I've seen him at it. There must be
thousands by this time."
"Thousands," said the assistant, in the belief that the more you add
up a sum the larger it grows.
Joe walked into the back shop and tried the safe.
"Where are the keys?" he asked.
"Always in his pocket or on the table before him. He don't leave them
about."
"Or you'd ha' known pretty sharp all there is to know--eh, my lad?
Well, you're a foxy one, you are, if ever there was one. Let's be
pals, you and me. When the old man goes, you want the shop--well, I
don't see why you shouldn't have the shop. Somebody must have the
shop; and it will be mine to do what I please with. As for his
savings, he says they are all for Iris--well, wills have been set
aside before this. Do you think now, seriously, do you think, James
that the old man is quite right--eh? Don't answer in a hurry. Do you
think, now, that he is quite right in his chump?"
James laughed.
"He's right enough, though he throws away his chances."
"Throws away his chances. How the deuce can he be all right then? Did
you ever hear of a bookseller in his right mind throwing away his
chances?"
"Why--no--for that matter--"
"Very well, then; for that matter, don't forget that you've seen him
throw away all his chances--all his chances, you said. You are ready
to swear to that. Most important evidence, that, James." James had not
said "all," but he grunted, and the other man went on: "It may come in
useful, this recollection. Keep your eyes wide-open, my red haired
pirate. As for the moldy old shop, you may consider it as good as your
own. Why, I suppose you'll get somebody else to handle the paste-brush
and the scissors, and tie up the parcels, and water the shop--eh?
You'll be too proud to do that for yourself, you will."
Mr. James grinned and rubbed his hands.
"All your own--eh? Well, you'll wake 'em up a bit, won't you?"
Mr. James grinned again--he continued grinning.
"Go on, Mr. Joseph," he said; "go on--I like it."
"Consider the job as settled, then. As for terms they shall be easy;
I'm not a hard man. And--I say, Foxy, about that safe?"
Mr. James suddenly ceased grinning, because he observed a look in his
patron's eyes which alarmed him.
"About that safe. You must find out for me where the old man has put
his money, and what it is worth. Do you hear? Or else--"
"How can I find out? He won't tell me any more than you."
"Or else you must put me in the way of finding out." Mr. Joseph
lowered his voice to a whisper. "He keeps the keys on the table before
him. When a customer takes him out here, he leaves the keys behind
him. Do you know the key of the safe?"
"Yes, I know it."
"What is to prevent a clever, quick-eyed fellow like you, mate,
stepping in with a bit of wax--eh? While he is talking, you know. You
could rush it in a moment."
"It's--it's dangerous, Mr. Joseph."
"So it is--rather dangerous--not much. What of that?"
"I would do anything I could to be of service to you, Mr. Joseph; but
that's not honest, and it's dangerous."
"Dangerous! There's danger in the briny deep and shipwreck on the
blast, if you come to danger. Do we, therefore, jolly mariners afloat
ever think of that? Never. As to honesty, don't make a man sick."
"Look here, Mr. Joseph. If you'll give me a promise in writing, that
I'm to have the shop, as soon as you get it, at a fair valuation and
easy terms--say ten per cent down, and--"
"Stow it, mate; write what you like, and I'll sign it. Now about that
key?"
"Supposing you was to get a duplicate key, and supposing you was to
get into trouble about it, Mr. Joseph, should you--should you--I only
put it to you--should you up and round upon the man as got you that
key?"
"Foxy, you are as suspicious as a Chinaman. Well, then, do it this
way. Send it me in a letter, and then who is to know where the letter
came from?"
The assistant nodded.
"Then I think I can do the job, though not, perhaps, your way. But I
think I can do it. I won't promise for a day or two."
"There you spoke like an honest pal and a friendly shipmate.
Dangerous! Of course it is. When the roaring winds do blow--Hands upon
it, brother. Foxy, you've never done a better day's work. You are too
crafty for any sailor--you are, indeed. Here, just for a little key--"
"Hush, Mr. Joseph! Oh, pray--pray don't talk so loud! You don't know
who may be listening. There's Mr. Lala Roy. You never hear him
coming."
"Just for a trifle of a key, you are going to get possession of the
best book-shop in all Chelsea. Well, keep your eyes skinned and the
wax ready, will you? And now, James, I'll be off."
"Oh, I say, Mr. Joseph, wait a moment!" James was beginning to realize
what he had promised. "If anything dreadful should come of this? I
don't know what is in the safe. There may be money as well as papers."
"James, do you think I would steal? Do you mean to insinuate that I am
a thief, sir? Do you dare to suspect that I would take money?"
James certainly looked as if he had thought even that possible.
"I shall open the safe, take out the papers, read them, and put them
back just as I found them. Will that do for you?"
He shook hands again, and took himself off.
At seven o'clock Mr. Emblem came down-stairs again.
"Has any one been?" he asked as usual.
"Only Mr. Joseph."
"What might Mr. Joseph want?"
"Nothing at all."
"Then," said his grandfather, "Mr. Joseph might just as well have kept
away."
* * * * *
Let us anticipate a little. James spent the next day hovering about in
the hope that an opportunity would offer of getting the key in his
possession for a few moments. There was no opportunity. The bunch of
keys lay on the table under the old man's eyes all day, and when he
left the table he carried them with him. But the day afterward he got
his chance. One of the old customers called to talk over past bargains
and former prizes. Mr. Emblem came out of the back shop with his
visitor, and continued talking with him as far as the door. As he
passed the table--James's table--he rested the hand which carried the
keys on it, and left them there. James pounced upon them and slipped
them into his pocket noiselessly. Mr. Emblem returned to his own chair
and thought nothing of the keys for an hour and a half by the clock,
and during this period James was out on business. When Mr. Emblem
remembered his keys, he felt for them in their usual place and missed
them, and then began searching about and cried out to James that he
had lost his bunch of keys.
"Why, sir," said James, bringing them to him, after a little search,
and with a very red face, "here they are; you must have left them on
my table."
And in this way the job was done.