MERCURY IS THE PATRON DEITY OF MERCANTILE SPECULATORS, AS WELL AS OF
CRACK-BRAINED POETS; INDEED, HE IS MUCH MORE FAVOURABLE, MORE A
FRIEND AT A PINCH, TO THE FORMER CLASS OF HIS PROTEGES THAN HE IS TO
THE LATTER.
"Poolum per hostes mercurius celer,
Denso paventem sustulit aere."
Poole was sitting with his wife after dinner. He had made a good
speculation that day; little Johnny would be all the better for it a few
years hence, and some other man's little Johnnys all the worse--but each
for himself in this world! Poole was therefore basking in the light of
his gentle helpmate's approving smile. He had taken all extra glass of a
venerable port-wine, which had passed to his cellar from the bins of
Uncle Sam. Commercial prosperity without, conjugal felicity within, the
walls of Alhambra Villa; surely Adolphus Poole is an enviable man! Does
he look so? The ghost of what he was but a few months ago! His cheeks
have fallen in; his clothes hang on him like bags; there is a worried,
haggard look in his eyes, a nervous twitch in his lips, and every now and
then he looks at the handsome Parisian clock on the chimneypiece, and
then shifts his posture, snubs his connubial angel, who asks "what ails
him?" refills his glass, and stares on the fire, seeing strange shapes in
the mobile aspects of the coals.
To-morrow brings back this weekly spectre! To-morrow Jasper Losely,
punctual to the stroke of eleven, returns to remind him of that past
which, if revealed, will blast the future. And revealed it might be any
hour despite the bribe for silence which he must pay with his own hands,
under his own roof. Would he trust another with the secret of that
payment?--horror! Would he visit Losely at his own lodging, and pay him
there?--murder! Would he appoint him somewhere in the streets--run the
chance of being seen with such a friend? Respectability confabulating
with offal?--disgrace! And Jasper had on the last two or three visits
been peculiarly disagreeable. He had talked loud. Poole feared that his
wife might have her ear at the keyhole. Jasper had seen the parlour-maid
in the passage as he went out, and caught her round the waist. The
parlour-maid had complained to Mrs. Poole, and said she would leave if so
insulted by such an ugly blackguard. Alas! what the poor lady-killer has
come to! Mrs. Poole had grown more and more inquisitive and troublesome
on the subject of such extraordinary visits; and now, as her husband
stirred the fire-having roused her secret ire by his previous unmanly
snubbings, and Mrs. Poole being one of those incomparable wives who have
a perfect command of temper, who never reply to angry words at the
moment, and who always, with exquisite calm and self-possession, pay off
every angry word by an amiable sting at a right moment--Mrs. Poole, I
say, thus softly said:
"Sammy, duck, we know what makes oo so cross; but it shan't vex oo long,
Sammy. That dreadful man comes to-morrow. He always comes the same day
of the week."
"Hold your tongue, Mrs. Poole."
"Yes, Sammy, dear, I'll hold my tongue. But Sammy shan't be imposed upon
by mendicants; for I know he is a mendicant--one of those sharpers or
blacklegs who took oo in, poor innocent Sam, in oo wild bachelor days,
and oo good heart can't bear to see him in distress; but there must be an
end to all things."
"Mrs. Poole--Mrs. Poole-will you stop your fool's jaw or not?"
"My poor dear hubby," said the angel, squeezing out a mild tear, "oo will
be in good hands to advise oo; for I've been and told Pa!"
"You have," faltered Poole, "told your father--you have!" and the
expression of his face became so ghastly that Mrs. Poole grew seriously
terrified. She had long felt that there was something very suspicious in
her husband's submission to the insolence of so rude a visitor. But she
knew that he was not brave; the man might intimidate him by threats of
personal violence. The man might probably be some poor relation, or some
one whom Poole had ruined, either in bygone discreditable sporting 'days,
or in recent respectable mercantile speculations. But at that ghastly
look a glimpse of the real truth broke upon her; and she stood speechless
and appalled. At this moment there was a loud ring at the street-door
bell. Poole gathered himself up, and staggered out of the room into the
passage.
His wife remained without motion; for the first time she conceived a fear
of her husband. Presently she heard a harsh female voice in the hall,
and then a joyous exclamation from Poole himself. Recovered by these
unexpected sounds, she went mechanically forth into the passage, just in
time to see the hems of a dark-grey dress disappearing within Poole's
study, while Poole, who had opened the study-door, and was bowing-in the
iron-grey dress obsequiously, turned his eye towards his wife, and
striding towards her for a moment, whispered, "Go up-stairs and stir
not," in a tone so unlike his usual gruff accents of command, that it
cowed her out of the profound contempt with which she habitually
received, while smilingly obeying, his marital authority.
Poole, vanishing into his study, carefully closed his door, and would
have caught his lady visitor by both her hands; but she waived him back,
and, declining a seat, remained sternly erect.
"Mr. Poole, I have but a few words to say. The letters which gave Jasper
Losely the power to extort money from you are no longer in his
possession; they are in mine. You need fear him no more--you will fee
him no more."
"Oh!" cried Poole, falling on his knees, "the blessing of a father of a
family--a babe not six weeks born--be on your blessed, blessed head!"
"Get up, and don't talk nonsense. I do not give you these papers at
present, nor burn them. Instead of being in the power of a muddled,
irresolute drunkard, you are in the power of a vigilant, clear-brained
woman. You are in my power, and you will act as I tell you."
"You can ask nothing wrong, I am sure," said Poole, his grateful
enthusiasm much abated. "Command me; but the papers can be of no use to
you; I will pay for them handsomely."
"Be silent and listen. I retain these papers-first, because Jasper
Losely must not know that they ever passed to my hands; secondly, because
you must inflict no injury on Losely himself. Betray me to him, or try
to render himself up to the law, and the documents will be used against
you ruthlessly. Obey, and you have nothing to fear, and nothing to pay.
When Jasper Losely calls on you tomorrow, ask him to show you the
letters. He cannot; he will make excuses. Decline peremptorily, but not
insultingly (his temper is fierce), to pay him farther. He will perhaps
charge you with having hired some one to purloin his pocket-book; let him
think it. Stop--your window here opens on the ground--a garden without:
--Ah! have three of the police in that garden, in sight of the window.
Point to them if he threaten you; summon them to your aid, or pass out to
them, if he actually attempt violence. But when he has left the house,
you must urge no charge against him; he must be let off unscathed. You
can be at no loss for excuse in this mercy; a friend of former times--
needy, unfortunate, whom habits of drink maddened for the moment--
necessary to eject him--inhuman to prosecute--any story you please. The
next day you can, if you choose, leave London for a short time; I advise
it. But his teeth will be drawn; he will most probably never trouble you
again. I know his character. There, I have done; open the door, sir."