MR. JAMES MAKES ATONEMENT.
James arrived as usual in the morning at nine o'clock, in order to
take down the shutters. To his astonishment, he found Lala Roy and
Iris waiting for him in the back shop. And they had grave faces.
"James," said Iris, "your master has suffered a great shock, and is
not himself this morning. His safe has been broken open by some one,
and most important papers have been taken out."
"Papers, miss--papers? Out of the safe?"
"Yes. They are papers of no value whatever to the thief, whoever he
may be. But they are of the very greatest importance to us. Your
master seems to have lost his memory for a while, and cannot help us
in finding out who has done this wicked thing. You have been a
faithful servant for so long that I am sure you will do what you can
for us. Think for us. Try to remember if anybody besides yourself has
had access to this room when your master was out of it."
James sat down. He felt that he must sit down, though Lala Roy was
looking at him with eyes full of doubt and suspicion. The whole
enormity of his own guilt, though he had not stolen anything, fell
upon him. He had got the key; he had given it to Mr. Joseph; and he
had received it back again. In fact, at that very moment, it was lying
in his pocket. The worst that he had feared had happened. The safe was
robbed.
He was struck with so horrible a dread, and so fearful a looking
forward to judgment and condemnation, that his teeth chattered and his
eye gave way.
"You will think it over, James," said Iris; "think it over, and tell
us presently if you can remember anything."
"Think it over, Mr. James," Lala Roy repeated in his deepest tone, and
with an emphatic gesture of his right forefinger. "Think it over
carefully. Like a lamp that is never extinguished are the eyes of the
faithful servant."
They left him, and James fell back into his chair with hollow cheek
and beating heart.
"He told me," he murmured--"oh, the villain!--he swore to me that he
had taken nothing from the safe. He said he only looked in it, and
read the contents. The scoundrel! He has stolen the papers! He must
have known they were there. And then, to save himself, he put me on to
the job. For who would be suspected if not--oh, Lord!--if not me?"
He grasped his paste brush, and attacked his work with a feverish
anxiety to find relief in exertion; but his heart was not in it, and
presently a thought pierced his brain, as an arrow pierceth the heart,
and under the pang and agony of it, his face turned ashy-pale, and the
big drops stood upon his brow.
"For," he thought, "suppose that the thing gets abroad; suppose they
were to advertise a reward; suppose the man who made the key were to
see the advertisement or to hear about it! And he knows my name, too,
and my business; and he'll let out for a reward--I know he will--who
it was ordered that key of him."
Already he saw himself examined before a magistrate; already he saw in
imagination that locksmith's man who made the key kissing the
Testament, and giving his testimony in clear and distinct words, which
could not be shaken.
"Oh, Lord! oh, Lord!" he groaned. "No one will believe me, even if I
do confess the truth: and as for him, I know him well; if I go to him,
he'll only laugh at me. But I must go to him--I must!"
He was so goaded by his terror that he left the shop unprotected--a
thing he had never thought to do--and ran as fast as he could to Joe's
lodgings. But he had left them; he was no longer there; he had not
been there for six weeks; the landlady did not know his address, or
would not give it. Then James felt sick and dizzy, and would have sat
down on the doorstep and cried but for the look of the thing. Besides,
he remembered the unprotected shop. So he turned away sadly and walked
back, well understanding now that he had fallen like a tool into a
trap, artfully set to fasten suspicion and guilt upon himself.
When he returned he found the place full of people. Mr. Emblem was
sitting in his customary place, and he was smiling. He did not look in
the least like a man who had been robbed. He was smiling pleasantly
and cheerfully. Mr. Chalker was also present, a man with whom no one
ever smiled, and Lala Roy, solemn and dignified, and a man--an unknown
man--who sat in the outer shop, and seemed to take no interest at all
in the proceedings. Were they come, he asked himself, to arrest him on
the spot?
Apparently they were not, for no one took the least notice of him, and
they were occupied with something else. How could they think of
anything else? Yet Mr. Chalker, standing at the table, was making a
speech, which had nothing to do with the robbery.
"Here I am, you see, Mr. Emblem," he said; "I have told you already
that I don't want to do anything to worry you. Let us be friends all
round. This gentleman, your friend from India, will advise you, I am
sure, for your own good, not to be obstinate. Lord! what is the
amount, after all, to a substantial man like yourself? A substantial
man, I say." He spoke confidently, but he glanced about the shop with
doubtful eyes. "Granted that it was borrowed to get your grandson out
of a scrape--supposing he promised to pay it back and hasn't done so;
putting the case that it has grown and developed itself as bills will
do, and can't help doing, and can't be stopped; it isn't the fault of
the lawyers, but the very nature of a hill to go on growing--it's like
a baby for growing. Why, after all, you were your grandson's
security--you can't escape that. And when I would no longer renew, you
gave of your own accord--come now, you can't deny that--a Bill of Sale
on goods and furniture. Now, Mr. Emblem, didn't, you? Don't let us
have any bitterness or quarreling. Let's be friends, and tell me I may
send away the man."
Mr. Emblem smiled pleasantly, but did not reply.
"A Bill of Sale it was, dated January the 25th, 1883, just before that
cursed Act of Parliament granted the five days' notice. Here is the
bailiff's man in possession. You can pay the amount, which is, with
costs and Sheriff's Poundage, three hundred and fifty-one pounds
thirteen shillings and fourpence, at once, or you may pay it five days
hence. Otherwise the shop, and furniture, and all, will be sold off in
seven days."
"Oh," James gasped, listening with bewilderment, "we can't be going to
be sold up! Emblem's to be sold up!"
"Three hundred and fifty pounds!" said Mr. Emblem. "My friend, let us
rather speak of thousands. This is a truly happy day for all of us.
Sit down, Mr. Chalker--my dear friend, sit down. Rejoice with us. A
happy morning."
"What the devil is the matter with him?" asked the money-lender.
"There was something, Mr. Chalker," Mr. Emblem went on cheerfully,
"something said about my grandson. Joe was always a bad lot; lucky his
father and mother are out of the way in Australia. You came to me
about that business, perhaps? Oh, on such a joyful day as this I
forgive everybody. Tell Joe I do not want to see him, but I have
forgiven him."
"Oh, he's mad!" growled James; "he's gone stark staring mad!"
"You don't seem quite yourself this morning, Mr. Emblem," said Mr.
Chalker. "Perhaps this gentleman, your friend from India, will advise
you when I am gone. You don't understand, Mister," he addressed Lala
Roy, "the nature of a bill. Once you start a bill, and begin to renew
it, it's like planting a tree, for it grows and grows of its own
accord, and by Act of Parliament, too, though they do try to hack and
cut it down in the most cruel way. You see Mr. Emblem is obstinate.
He's got to pay off that bill, which is a Bill of Sale, and he won't
do it. Make him write the check and have done with it."
"This is the best day's work I ever did," Mr. Emblem went on.
"To remember the letter, word for word, and everything!
Mr. Arbuthnot has, very likely, finished the whole business
by now. Thousands--thousands--and all for Iris!"
"Look here, Mr. Emblem," said the lawyer angrily. "You'll not only be
a bankrupt if you go on like this, but you'll be a fraudulent bankrupt
as well. Is it honest, I want to know, to refuse to pay your just
debts when you've put by thousands, as you boast--you actually
boast--for your granddaughter?"
"Yes," said the old man, "Iris will have thousands."
"I think, sir," said Lala Roy, "that you are under an illusion. Mr.
Emblem does not possess any such savings or investments as you
imagine."
"Then why does he go on talking about thousands?"
"He has had a shock; he cannot quite understand what has happened. You
had better leave him for the present."
"Leave him! And nothing but these moldy old books! Here, you sir--you
James--you shopman--come here! What is the stock worth?"
"It depends upon whether you are buying or selling," said James. "If
you were to sell it under the hammer, in lots, it wouldn't fetch a
hundred pounds."
"There, you hear--you hear, all of you! Not a hundred pounds, and my
Bill of Sale is three-fifty."
"Pray, sir," said Lala Roy, "who told you that Mr. Emblem was so
wealthy?"
"His grandson."
"Then, sir perhaps it would be well to question the grandson further,
he may know things of which we have heard nothing."
The Act of 1882, which came into operation in the following January,
is cruel indeed, I am told, to those who advanced money on Bills of
Sale before that date, for it allows--it actually allows the debtor
five clear days during which he may, if he can, without being caught,
make away with portions of his furniture and belongings--the smaller
and the more precious portion; or he may find some one else to lend
him the money, and so get off clear and save his sticks. It is, as the
modern Shylock declares, a most wicked and iniquitous Act, by which
the shark may be balked, and many an honest tradesman, who would
otherwise have been most justly ruined, is enabled to save his stock,
and left to worry along until the times become more prosperous. To a
man like Mr. David Chalker, such an Act of Parliament is most
revolting.
He went away at length, leaving the man--the professional
person--behind. Then Lala Roy persuaded Mr. Emblem to go upstairs
again. He did so without any apparent consciousness that there was a
Man in Possession.
"James," said Lala Roy, "you have heard that your master has been
robbed. You are reflecting and meditating on this circumstance.
Another thing is that a creditor has threatened to sell off everything
for a debt. Most likely, everything will be sold, and the shop closed.
You will, therefore, lose the place you have had for five-and-twenty
years. That is a very bad business for you. You are unfortunate this
morning. To lose your place--and then this robbery. That seems also a
bad business."
"It is," said James with a hollow groan. "It is, Mr. Lala Roy. It is a
dreadful bad business."
"Pray, Mr. James," continued this man with grave, searching eyes which
made sinners shake in their shoes, "pray, why did you run away, and
where did you go after you opened the shop this morning? You went to
see Mr. Emblem's grandson, did you not?"
"Yes, I did," said James.
"Why did you go to see him?"
"I w--w--went--oh, Lord!--I went to tell him what had happened,
because he is master's grandson, and I thought he ought to know," said
James.
"Did you tell him?"
"No; he has left his lodgings. I don't know where he is--oh, and he
always told me the shop was his--settled on him," he said.
"He is the Father of Lies; his end will be confusion. Shame and
confusion shall wait upon all who have hearkened unto him or worked
with him, until they repent and make atonement."
"Don't, Mister Lala Roy--don't; you frighten me," said James. "Oh,
what a dreadful liar he is!"
All the morning the philosopher sat in the bookseller's chair, and
James, in the outer shop, felt that those deep eyes were resting
continually upon him, and knew that bit by bit his secret would be
dragged from him. If he could get up and run away--if a customer
would come--if the dark gentleman would go upstairs--if he could
think of something else! But none of these things happened, and James,
at his table with the paste before him, passed a morning compared with
which any seat anywhere in Purgatory would have been comfortable.
Presently a strange feeling came over him, as if some invisible force
was pushing and dragging him and forcing him to leave his chair, and
throw himself at the Philosopher's feet and confess everything. This
was the mesmeric effect of those reproachful eyes fixed steadily upon
him. And in the doorway, like some figure in a nightmare--a figure
incongruous and out of place--the Man in Possession sitting, passive
and unconcerned, with one eye on the street and the other on the shop.
Upstairs Mr. Emblem was sitting fast asleep; joy had made him sleepy;
and Iris was at work among her pupils' letters, compiling sums for the
Fruiterer, making a paper on Conic Sections for the Cambridge man, and
working out Trigonometrical Equations for the young schoolmaster, and
her mind full of a solemn exultation and glory, for she was a woman
who was loved. The other things troubled her but little. Her
grandfather would get back his equilibrium of mind; the shop might be
shut up, but that mattered little. Arnold, and Lala Roy, and her
grandfather, and herself, would all live together, and she and Arnold
would work. The selfishness of youth is really astonishing.
Nothing--except perhaps toothache--can make a girl unhappy who is
loved and newly betrothed. She may say what she pleases, and her face
may be a yard long when she speaks of the misfortunes of others, but
all the time her heart is dancing.
To Lala Roy, the situation presented a problem with insufficient data,
some of which would have to be guessed. A letter, now lost, said that
a certain case contained papers necessary to obtain an unknown
inheritance for Iris. How then to ascertain whether anybody was
expecting or looking for a girl to claim an inheritance? Then there
was half a coat-of-arms, and lastly there was a certain customer of
unknown name, who had been acquainted with Iris's father before his
marriage. So far for Iris. As for the thief, Lala Roy had no doubt at
all. It was, he was quite certain, the grandson, whose career he had
watched for some years with interest and curiosity. Who else was there
who would steal the papers? And who would help him, and give him
access to the safe? He did not only suspect, he was certain that James
was in some way cognizant of the deed. Why else did he turn so pale?
Why did he rush off to Joe's lodgings? Why did he sit trembling?
At half-past twelve Lala Roy rose.
"It is your dinner-hour," he said to James, and it seemed to the
unhappy man as it he was saying, "I know all." "It is your dinner
hour; go, eat, refresh the body. Whom should suspicion affright except
the guilty?"
James put on his hat and sneaked--he felt that he was sneaking--out of
the shop.
During his dinner-hour, Joseph himself called. It was an unusual thing
to see him at any time; in fact, as he was never wont to call upon his
grandfather, unless he was in a scrape and wanted money, no one ever
made the poor young man welcome, or begged him to come more often.
But this morning, he walked upstairs and appeared so cheerful, so
entirely free from any self-reproach for past sins, and so easy in his
mind, without the least touch of the old hang-dog look, that Iris
began to reproach herself for thinking badly of her cousin.
When he was told about the robbery, he expressed the greatest surprise
that any one in the world could be so wicked as to rob an old man like
his grandfather. Besides his abhorrence of crime in the abstract, he
affirmed that the robbery of a safe was a species of villainy for
which hanging was too mild--much too mild a punishment. He then asked
his grandfather what were the contents of the packet stolen, and when
he received no answer except a pleasant and a cheery laugh, he asked
Iris, and learned to his sorrow that the contents were unknown, and
could not, therefore, be identified even if they were found. This, he
said, was a thousand pities, because, if they had been known, a reward
might have been offered. For his own part he would advise the greatest
caution. Nothing at all should be done at first; no step should be
taken which might awaken suspicion; they should go on as if the papers
were without value. As for that, they had no real proof that there was
any robbery. Iris thought of telling him about the water-mark of the
blank pages, but refrained. Perhaps there was no robbery after
all--who was to prove what had been inside the packet? But if there
had been papers, and it they were valueless except to the rightful
owners, they would, perhaps, be sent back voluntarily; or after a
time, say a year or two, they might be advertised for; not as if the
owners were very anxious to get them, and not revealing the nature of
the papers, but cautiously; and presently, if they had not been
destroyed, the holders of the papers would answer the advertisement,
and then a moderate reward might, after a while, be offered; and so
on, giving excellent advice. While he was speaking, Lala Roy entered
the room in his noiseless manner, and took his accustomed chair.
"And what do you think, sir?" said Joseph, when he had finished. "You
have heard my advice. You are not an Englishman, but I suppose you've
got some intelligence."
Lala bowed and spread his hands, but replied not.
"Your opinion should be asked," Joseph went on, "because you see, as
the only other person, besides my grandfather and my cousin, in the
house, you might yourself be suspected. Indeed," he added, "I have no
doubt you will be suspected. When I talk over the conduct of the case,
which will be my task, I suppose, it will, perhaps, be my duty to
suspect you."
Lala bowed again and again, spread his hands, but did not speak.
In fact, Joseph now perceived that he was having the conversation
wholly to himself. His grandfather sat passive, listening as one who,
in a dream, hears voices but does not heed what they are saying, yet
smiling politely. Iris listened, but paid no heed. She thought that a
great deal of fuss was being made about papers, which, perhaps, were
worth nothing. And as for her inheritance, why, as she never expected
to get any, she was not going to mourn the loss of what, perhaps, was
worth nothing.
"Very well, then," said Joseph, "that's all I've got to say. I've
given you the best advice I can, and I suppose I may go. Have you
lost your voice, Iris?"
"No; but I think you had better go, Joseph. My grandfather is not able
to talk this morning, and I dare say your advice is very good, but we
have other advisers."
"As for you, Mr. Lala Roy, or whatever you call yourself," said Joe
roughly, "I've warned you. Suspicion certainly will fall upon you, and
what I say is--take care. For my own part I never did believe in
niggers, and I wouldn't have one in my house."
Lala Roy bowed again and spread his fingers.
Then Joseph went away. The door between the shop and the hall was half
open, and he looked in. A strange man was sitting in the outer shop, a
pipe in his mouth, and James was leaning his head upon his hands, with
wild and haggard eyes gazing straight before him.
"Poor devil," murmured Joseph. "I feel for him, I do indeed. He had
the key made--for himself; he certainly let me use it once, but only
once, and who's to prove it? And he's had the opportunity every day of
using it himself. That's very awkward, Foxy, my boy. If I were Foxy, I
should be in a funk, myself."
He strolled away, thinking that all promised well. Lotty most
favorably and unsuspiciously received in her new character; no one
knowing the contents of the packet; his grandfather gone silly; and
for himself, he had had the opportunity of advising exactly what he
wished to be done--namely, that silence and inaction should be
observed for a space, in order to give the holders of the property a
chance of offering terms. What better advice could he give? And what
line of action would be better or safer for himself?
If James had known who was in the house-passage, the other side of the
door, there would, I think, have been a collision of two solid bodies.
But he did not know, and presently Lala Roy came back, and the torture
began again. James took down books and put them up again; he moved
about feverishly, doing nothing, with a duster in his hand; but all
the time he felt those deep accusing eyes upon him with a silence
worse than a thousand questions. He knew--he was perfectly
certain--that he should be found out. And all the trouble for nothing!
and the Bailiff's man in possession, and the safe robbed, and those
eyes upon him, saying, as plain as eyes could speak, "Thou art the
Man!"
"And Joe is the man," said James; "not me at all. What I did was
wrong, but I was tempted. Oh, what a precious liar and villain he is!
And what a fool I've been!"
The day passed more slowly than it seemed possible for any day to
pass; always the man in the shop; always the deep eyes of the silent
Hindoo upon him. It was a relief when, once, Mr. Chalker looked in and
surveyed the shelves with a suspicious air, and asked if the old man
had by this time listened to reason.
It is the business of him who makes plunder out of other men's
distresses--as the jackal feeds upon the offal and the putrid
carcass--to know as exactly as he can how his fellow-creatures are
situated. For this reason such a one doth diligently inquire, listen,
pick up secrets, put two and two together, and pry curiously into
everybody's affairs, being never so happy as when he gets an
opportunity of going to the rescue of a sinking man. Thus among those
who lived in good repute about the lower end of the King's Road, none
had a better name than Mr. Emblem, and no one was considered to have
made more of his chances. And it was with joy that Mr. Chalker
received Joe one evening and heard from him the dismal story, that if
he could not find fifty pounds within a few hours, he was ruined. The
fifty pounds was raised on a bill bearing Mr. Emblem's name. When it
was presented, however, and the circumstances explained, the old
gentleman, who had at first refused to own the signature, accepted it
meekly, and told no one that his grandson had written it himself,
without the polite formality of asking permission to sign for him. In
other words Joseph was a forger, and Mr. Chalker knew it, and this
made him the more astonished when Mr. Emblem did not take up the bill,
but got it renewed quarter after quarter, substituting at length a
bill of sale, as if he was determined to pay as much as possible for
his grandson's sins.
"Where is he?" asked the money-lender angrily. "Why doesn't he come
down and face his creditors?"
"Master's upstairs," said James, "and you've seen yourself, Mr.
Chalker, that he is off his chump. And oh, sir, who would have thought
that Emblem's would have come to ruin?"
"But there's something, James--Come, think--there must be something."
"Mr. Joseph said there were thousands. But he's a terrible liar--oh,
Mr. Chalker, he's a terrible liar and villain! Why, he's even deceived
me!"
"What? Has he borrowed your money?"
"Worse--worse. Do you know where I could find him, sir?"
"Well, I don't know--" Mr. Chalker was not in the habit of giving
addresses, but in this case, perhaps Joe might be squeezed as well as
his grandfather. Unfortunately that bill with the signature had been
destroyed. "I don't know. Perhaps if I find out I may tell you. And,
James, if you can learn anything--this rubbish won't fetch half the
money--I'll make it worth your while, James, I will indeed."
"I'll make him take his share," said James to himself. "If I have to
go to prison, he shall go too. They sha'n't send me without sending
him."
He looked round. The watchful eyes were gone. The Hindoo had gone away
noiselessly. James breathed again.
"After all," he said, "how are they to find out? How are they to prove
anything? Mr. Joseph took the things, and I helped him to a key; and
he isn't likely to split, and--oh, Lord, if they were to find it!" For
at that moment he felt the duplicate key in his waistcoat-pocket. "If
they were to find it!"
He took the key out, and looked at the bright and innocent-looking
thing, as a murderer might look at his blood stained dagger.
Just then, as he gazed upon it, holding it just twelve inches in front
of his nose, one hand was laid upon his shoulder, and another took the
key from between his fingers.
He turned quickly, and his knees gave way, and he sunk upon the floor,
crying:
"Oh, Mr. Lala Roy, sir, Mr. Lala Roy, I am not the thief! I am
innocent! I will tell you all about it! I will confess all to you! I
will indeed! I will make atonement! Oh, what a miserable fool I've
been!"
"Upon the heels of Folly," said the Sage, "treadeth Shame. You will
now be able to understand the words of wisdom, which say of the wicked
man, 'The curse of iniquity pursueth him; he liveth in continual fear;
the anxiety of his mind taketh vengeance upon him.' Stand up and
speak."
The Man in Possession looked on as if an incident of this kind was too
common in families for him to take any notice of it. Nothing, in fact,
is able to awaken astonishment in the heart of the Man in Possession,
because nothing is sacred to him except the "sticks" he has to guard.
To Iris, the event was, however, of importance, because it afforded
Lala Roy a chance of giving Arnold that photograph, no other than an
early portrait of Mr. Emblem's grandson.