MR. SANDFORD’S SECRETARY.
This was what had happened in the meantime, while John had been about
his other work. The man whom he had so readily taken up, knowing nothing
of him except harm, had begun with quite an _élan_ of sympathetic
industry while the young man was with him. It was his nature so to do;
had John remained with him all the time he would have continued so, with
a generous desire to second and carry out all his wishes. But, when left
alone to his work, his interest flagged. He settled everything in the
most neat and orderly way, for he was always orderly, always ready to
arrange and keep a certain symmetry in his surroundings, a kind of
gratifying occupation which was not work.
When he had spread out his ink, his pens, his pencil, and ruler, his
blotting-paper, and all the scraps he had to copy on the table before
him, he began his work, and wrote on for half-an-hour at least with the
air of a man who knew no better pleasure. But when he got to the
conclusion of the page he laid down his pen and began to think. He had a
quickly working mind, readily moved by any suggestion, taking up a cue
and running on from it in lines of thought which amused him sometimes
with a certain appearance of originality, enough to impose upon any
chance listener, and always upon himself. This led him into mental
amplifications of the text that was before him, and gave him a certain
pleasure at first even in his work of copying. He thought of two or
three things which he felt would be great improvements upon John’s plan
as he went on, and at the end of each page he mused for an hour or so
upon that and a hundred other subjects into which it ran. And then he
roused up suddenly and turned the leaf and wrote a few sentences more;
and then it occurred to him that it was time to eat something, as his
breakfast had been a very light one.
He went out accordingly, having still money in his pocket, to get his
luncheon, and lingered a little to wash down the hot and savoury sausage
which was agreeable to a stomach not in very good order, and met Joe,
who was hanging about on the outlook for his mate. Joe returned with him
to pilot his friend safely through the little-known streets to the room
in which John, in his simplicity, had believed his protégé would be safe
from all such influences, and went in with him to bear him company.
Then, after March had rested from these fatigues, his comrade aroused
his interest not unskilfully.
‘I ’eard him say,’ remarked Joe, ‘as them papers would make ‘is fortin.’
‘So he thinks, poor lad; and I hope they may, for he’s a good lad and
has been very kind to me.’
‘Droll to think you can make a fortin’ by writin’ on bits of paper,’
said Joe, touching John’s notes with his grimy hand (and indeed that
opinion is shared by many people), ‘is it story-books, or wot is it!’
Mr. March laughed with genuine enjoyment, leaning back in his chair.
‘No, you ignoramus,’ he said; ‘don’t you see its figures, calculations,
things you can understand still less than story-books? It’s a great
scheme, Joe, my fine fellow, for turning the water out of the river and
making the floods into dry land.’
‘You’re laughing at a poor fellow, guv’nor. I aint no scholard. And
what’ll be done with the land? Will he farm it, or build on’t, or
what’ll he do with it, when he’s got it? Doin’ away with the river would
be little good, as I can see.’
‘Joe, you are a donkey,’ said his mate; ‘don’t you know there’s floods
every year, and water in the houses, and water on the fields, and
destruction everywhere. And this young fellow is an engineer, and means
to put a stop to that.’
‘Oh!’ said Joe. Then, after a pause, he added, ‘It ’ud be the landlords
o’ them places that would get the profit o’ that.’
‘Landlords and everybody; it would be a great advantage to the country,
and would make our young man’s fortune, as he says.’
‘If I was you,’ said Joe, ‘I’d go on ahead with that. If it’s you
that’s writing it out, you’ll go shares in the profits, I reckon.’
March resumed his pen at this incentive and began once more to write.
‘No,’ he said, shaking his hand, ‘not shares; for I have really nothing
to do with it except to copy it; but I’ve no doubt he will pay me, and
pretty well too----’
‘I daresay,’ said Joe, ‘if he’s that sort of a cove for finding out
things, as he has a many more in his head as well as this.’
‘I should think most likely,’ said the elder man. ‘He’s got a good
brain--and plenty of energy, and fond of his profession--which is a good
thing, Joe. Neither you nor I have been fond of our professions,
unfortunately for us.’
‘I ain’t got one--not even a trade. I was brought up to hang about, and
do odd jobs. I never had no justice in my bringing-up.’
‘Ah, that was a pity,’ said his companion; ‘perhaps, however, it
wouldn’t have mattered much. Hanging about is the trade of a great many
men, Joe, more successful men than you and me.’
‘It depends on the nature o’ the jobs you gets,’ Joe remarked. He drew
his chair a little nearer to the writing-table. ‘I’d get on with that
there work, guv’nor, if I was you,’ he said, with a nudge; ‘if there’s a
fortune in it for one, there might be a fortune in it for two.’
March looked at him hazily with an afternoon look of drowsiness and
languor; but he was tickled by the advice thus given, and resumed the
so-easily-relinquished work. Joe, so to speak, sat or stood over him all
day, encouraging and stimulating. The work went on slowly, as John
remarked in the evening, but still it went on. The next day and the next
passed in much the same way, except that Joe, ‘hanging about’ as usual,
managed to meet his comrade on his way to instead of after luncheon, and
so secured a clear head and less drowsy condition for the afternoon. At
last, chiefly by the exertions of this very unusual overseer, the work
was concluded, and then Joe spoke his mind more clearly.
‘It’s you as has had most part of this work, guv’nor, but it’s he as’ll
get the pay.’
‘That’s the way of this world, Joe,’ said his comrade. But he added
after a moment, with a magnanimous air, ‘Not in this case, however--for
I have only copied, I have not invented--though I may have given a few
hints.’
He had given these hints only to himself, various suggestions having
occurred to him in the course of his copying, which in some instances he
had inserted with the wildest ignorance of practicability in his text.
‘I make no doubt,’ said Joe, ‘as the best of it come out o’ your head,
guv’nor. You was always the one as had the brains; and it’s you as
should profit by it. A young fellow like that’s got no occasion to make
his fortune at his age. It ain’t good for him. When you make your
fortune like that right off, it puffs you up with pride, and it stops
you doing more. Ain’t that true? Why, you knows it is;--chaplains and
parsons and all that sort say so. It’s good for you to be kep’ down when
you’re young. It would be a thousand pities to spoil a young fellow’s
life like, with getting everything that he wants first thing afore he’s
had any experience. That’s what has always been said to me.’
‘There is some truth in it, no doubt,’ said March.
‘A deal of truth, guv’nor. I suppose, now, you’ve just got to take them
papers to somebody as deals in things like that, and get money for ’em
down on the nail?’
‘He will take them to some great engineering firm,’ said the other. ‘And
probably he would not part with them for a sum “down on the nail,” as
you say. Such a scheme as this he’d be sure to have some share in it. He
would superintend the carrying out of his plans, if you understand that.
It might be years of work for him, and the most excellent beginning. I
should think he deserved it, too,’ said John’s amanuensis, looking round
approvingly, ‘for there is every evidence that he’s a fine fellow, and I
know he has been very kind to me.’
‘And you might be very kind to ’im, in that way,’ said Joe.
‘I could be--kind to _him_? I don’t think I’ve very much in my power one
way or other,’ said March, with a smile and a sigh.
‘Guv’nor,’ said Joe, ‘you never was one as took things upon you. Give up
to other folks, that was allays what you would do. But what’s the good?
You don’t get no thanks for it. If I was in your place--as I’m a
donkey, and good for nothing, but you ain’t, and could do a lot if you
liked--I know what I’d do.’
March smiled benignantly enough upon the poor dependent, whose
flatteries were not unpleasant to him.
‘And what would you do, if you were me, which is not a very likely
change?’ he said.
‘No, it ain’t likely. Them as is born asses, dies asses--and t’other way
too. It ain’t for me to tell a clever man like you, and that has got a
fine education, and born a gentleman.’
‘Alas!’ said March, shaking his head; ‘alas! it hasn’t come to much, has
it? Your mate, my poor fellow, and one without a friend but you, or a
chance in the wide world----’
‘Don’t say that, guv’nor. Here’s a chance, if I ain’t more of a born ass
than ever I thought--a chance for a fortune, and for doing the young
fellow a good turn. How’s he, at his age, to show up a big thing like
this? There’s nobody as would believe it of him. They’d say, “Oh, get
along, you boy.” They’d never take him in earnest at all.’
‘I do him a good turn! I, a broken man, without character or anything;
without a friend! and he a fine, respectable young fellow, well thought
of, and clever, and knowing more than I ever knew at my best. That’s
nonsense, Joe.’
‘Not if you’ll think a bit, guv’nor; I hear him say them papers is my
fortune--and then I hears him ’eave a sigh. He’s not one of the pushing
ones, he isn’t. He knows as they’re worth a deal, but he hasn’t the face
to say “Look here, you give me so much for this.” Guv’nor, I know you’re
a man as will do a deal for a friend. Why don’t you take ’em just as
they lies there, and take ’em to some person as deals in that sort of
thing, and just up and ask ’em what’ll they give for this? “There’s a
young un,” says you, “as understands everything about it and is just the
man to work ’em out.” If I were in your place, guv’nor, that’s what I
would do.’
‘But, my good fellow,’ said March, ‘those papers belong to the young man
here, not to me.’
‘Guv’nor,’ said Joe, ‘I don’t doubt as the best that’s in that long
story as you’re writing out there comes out o’ your own ’ead. It stands
to reason as you know more about it than a young feller like ’im.’
The philosophical gull, who never learned wisdom, was touched by this in
the most assailable point.
‘It’s true,’ he said, ‘Joe,--though how you’ve found it out I can’t
tell--that I have carried out a suggestion or two, and put in something
that seemed to me the logical consequence of what he said. But nothing
practical, for I don’t understand the practical part. And how does that
sort of thing give me any real claim?’
‘Guv’nor,’ repeated Joe, ‘you needn’t tell me. I know you, and how
you’re always giving up to other folks. It’s half yours and more, I’ll
be bound. And the best you could do for the young ’un is just what I
tells you. I’m practical, I am. If it was anything in my way, I’d do it
like a shot; but it ain’t in my way. The outsides o’ things has a deal
of power in this world. You in your fine respectable suit, you can go
where you please like a prince. But me, it’s “Be off with you--get along
with you;” they won’t say nothing of that sort to you. And you’ll just
make the young man’s fortune, that’s what you’ll do. Say as he’s the
very one to look after the works and knows all the practical part. They
ought to settle something handsome on you at once as your share and take
him on as foreman, or whatever it is; and in that way you’d both get the
best of it and all done well.’
The convict philosopher shook his head. He rose up from the table and
put the papers away. He admired the neatness of his own manuscript
extremely, and he was of opinion that he had done John a great deal of
good by the suggestions which he had worked out and the additions which
he had made. It was possible that Joe might be right, and that the best
thing he could do for his young employer was what the poor faithful
fellow had suggested. He had himself a great admiration, after having
been deprived of it so long, of his respectable suit and appearance, and
there was a great deal of plausibility, he thought, in what the man
said. But it was still clear to him that John might not think so. He was
not very rigid himself upon any point of morals, after his long practice
in thinking everything over, and blurring out to his own satisfaction
the lines of demarcation between right and wrong; but he could
understand that the young man, not having his experience, might think
otherwise; and he had even a sympathy for his want of philosophical
power in that respect. So he put everything aside very tidily, and put
his hand upon Joe’s arm and drew him away, shaking his head, but not
angry at the good fellow’s insistence. There was something in it--and it
might doubtless be under certain circumstances the most kind thing that
could be done for the young man. Still there was the difficulty that the
young man might not see it in that light. And Mr. March accordingly put
up the papers, and taking Joe by the arm, with a benevolent smile and a
shake of the head, led him away.
It has been said that John’s rooms were in Westminster, not far from
Great George Street, where the offices of Messrs. Barrett were, and
where, as the reader needs not to be informed, various other engineers’
offices are to be seen. March’s eye caught the names involuntarily as he
passed by. It was not that he was trifling with temptation, for he did
not consider Joe’s suggestion as temptation. He was only turning over
the possibilities in his mind, and merely as a matter of amusement, an
exercise of fancy, just as he might have counted how many white horses
passed in the street, or which windows were curtained and which not, he
read over to himself the names on the doors. Messrs. Barrett’s was one
which he weighed but afterwards rejected, as not liking the sound of it.
Another quite near had a name that pleased him better--Messrs. Spender
and Diggs. What a ludicrous combination! He laughed to himself at it, as
it caught his eye. Spender and Diggs--it was highly suggestive, which
was a thing dear to his mind at ease. It clung to his memory. He turned
it round the other way to see how it would sound. Diggs and Spender:
that was still more absurd.
And all the time Joe’s voice was running on with arguments, the form of
which, simple and subtle and couched in that language of the rough which
is always more or less picturesque, amused his companion much. Joe had
penetrated sufficiently into the mind of his mate to know how to address
him. And that mind began to work upon the matter, with the amusing
addition of the name of Spender and Diggs thrown in, and a great deal of
pleasurable occupation in a question entirely characteristic and full of
the difficulties he loved.
The result was that March appeared in the morning as the landlady had
said, and spent a short time, but only a very short time in John’s
sitting-room. The copy was completed, carefully folded up, and put in a
large envelope. All John’s notes, the originals, were scrupulously left
in their place, and in perfect order. For in some points his conscience
was of scrupulous nicety, and John’s notes were certainly his own and
not to be tampered with. As he was going out with the large envelope in
his breast pocket, John’s landlady appeared with the remonstrance which
had been on her lips for some days.
‘You, sir, I’ve got no objections--a gentleman that’s pleasant spoken
and respectable even if he ain’t my lodger, but only a friend, that’s a
different thing:---- but your---- that man----’
‘My servant?’ said March, with a quick sense of the comicality of the
situation.
‘Well, sir,’ said the woman, with hesitation; ‘I wouldn’t keep on a man
like that in my service if I was you.’
‘He is not as bad as he seems,’ the philosopher said, with a twinkle in
his eye, ‘but I foresaw your objections, and you shall never see him
more.’
‘If that’s so, of course, there isn’t another word to be said.’
‘That’s so; you may calculate upon it as a certainty,’ the pleasant
spoken gentleman said; and with a wave of his hand and a chuckle of
enjoyment he went away.
The events thus described will explain the scene which John to his
consternation and amazement encountered when he stepped into Mr.
William’s room at the office, and found himself confronted by both
members of the firm.