HOW FELIX GAINED A CLUB.
Felix intended to leave Lily after he had seen her safely within
doors, but the old man begged him to come in. A look from Lily decided
him, and the three faithful souls ascended the stairs to the old man's
room. Old Wheels entering first, gave Lily an opportunity to say
hurriedly to Felix,
"Don't tell grandfather of my fainting, Felix. It might distress him."
He promised her.
"Nor about Mr. Sheldrake."
"Very well, Lily."
She spoke in a whisper; she was so thrilling with exquisite
sensitiveness that any harsher sound would have been a disturbance to
her happy state.
"I will think of what you have said to-night, Felix; you are right, I
know--you _must_ be right." (The unspoken words came to her: "My heart
tells me so.") "Thank you for it, Felix, with all my heart."
Their hands met in a tender clasp. They entered the room the next
moment, and Old Wheels looked towards them with a pleased expression
in his face, brought there by the circumstance of Lily and Felix
lingering for a few moments in the passage. It betokened a confidence
between them.
It was one o'clock before Felix took his departure. The conversation
between him and Old Wheels had turned principally upon the mental
disturbance of Mr. Podmore, and upon his presentiment. This made a
great impression upon Felix, and, although he was almost ashamed to
confess it to himself, took fast hold of his mind. He was predisposed
for some such influence, from the thought of the crisis that seemed to
be imminent in the life of the woman he loved. That it must come, and
soon, he was convinced, and he thought to himself it would be almost a
wise act to hasten it, if possible. He had quietly made it his
business to acquaint himself with the nature of Mr. Sheldrake's
transactions; and, notwithstanding that that gentleman was close and
crafty, Felix had learned much concerning him. The knowledge sprang
naturally, as it were, out of Felix's profession. He was correspondent
for two country newspapers, and had managed to insert the thin end of
his wedge into the wall of London journalism. He was working his way,
steadily and unobtrusively, and he was sanguine and confident of the
future. Very many people suppose that cunning is one of the principal
specialties of wisdom, but it is not always so. A rare strength, which
shows itself almost invariably with great and good results, lies in
the man who is wise and not cunning--who is wise from honesty of
purpose. Felix was this. He was sincere in all he did--honest in all
he did. It is a pleasure to be able to indicate, even by such mere
outlines as these, a character which too many persons do not believe
in.
Beginning to earn his living by his pen, and being enabled to act in a
certain measure independently, and to take his own view of things, it
was natural that he should exercise his small power in the cause of
right. It was not his ambition to be the Don Quixote of literature,
but he could no more resist the inclination to strike hard blows at
public shams and injustice than, being naturally truthful, he could
resist the inclination to tell the truth. Of course he could effect
but little good, The great shield behind which imposture and knavery
found shelter, and which protected dishonesty and hypocrisy, suffered
but little from his attacks; but here and there he made a dent, and
that was a great satisfaction to him. He was a faithful soldier, and
fought with courage.
He knew that in some way Lily's brother was in Mr. Sheldrake's power,
and accident revealed to him the nature of the bond between them. In
his crusade against knavery, he became acquainted with the unmitigated
roguery that was practised under the protection of the institution
which, with a grim and ghastly humour, has been denominated the great
national sport. His friend Charley, who introduced him to the
columns of the _Penny Whistle_, was the first who opened his eyes to
the knavery. It seems to be a recognised necessity that all young men
who have the means and the leisure should go through the formula known
as "seeing life"--a process which to some is a sad tragedy, and which
to nearly all is a bitter experience. Very few come out of that fire
unscathed. Charley had gone through this formula--fortunately for him,
in a superficial way. Charley's parents were good people enough, and
had tacitly agreed that their son must "see life" before he settled;
everybody's sons saw life before settling, and Charley must not be an
exception. So the young fellow went into the world, and in the natural
course of things became mixed up in matters, the mere mention of which
would have brought a blush to his mother's cheek. But Charley was
doing the proper thing: there was no doubt of that. However, the young
fellow's inclinations were not inherently vicious, and he escaped the
pitfalls in which so many weak and unfortunate ones are ingulfed. He
and Felix had met some few times since Felix's installation as London
correspondent to the _Penny Whistle_, and they had opened their hearts
to each other. Thus it came out that Charley told Felix of his
introduction to the racing world, and of his adventures therein.
"You see, Felix," he said, "I had outrun my allowance, and I thought I
might be able to set things straight, and pay my few small debts,
without coming on my father's purse. So, led away by the flaming
accounts in the newspapers, I went into betting; was introduced by a
friend to club where I could bet, and for three months went regularly
to races. It didn't turn out well, and after dropping nearly two
hundred pounds, I went to my father, and made a clean breast of it. He
paid my debts, and made me promise to give up the infatuation, as he
called it. I promised willingly enough, for I had made up my mind
before, and I am sure I shall never be drawn into the net again. The
fact is, Felix, it didn't suit me: the men I met on the race-courses
were such cads and blackguards that I soon became disgusted with
myself for mixing with them. I tell you what it is, old fellow. I
think being with you a great deal has done me good, and I have learnt
from you to hate things that are mean. You've been to races, of
course?"
"I've been to Goodwood, and Ascot, and to the Derby. The Derby is a
wonderful sight. I should like to go with you to one or two of the
small meetings."
They went in company, and Felix, having a deeper purpose in his mind
than idle amusement, saw much to astonish him. As they were making
their way through a crowd of sharks and gulls, Charley pulled his
sleeve, and said,
"There! There's a man who had over a hundred pounds of my money."
Turning, Felix saw Mr. David Sheldrake, evidently very much at home.
Felix, not wishing to be seen by Mr. Sheldrake, walked away, and
watched him from a distance.
"Is he a betting-man?" asked Felix.
"O, yes; and as sharp as a needle."
"Does he attend these meetings regularly?"
"You seem to be interested in him, Felix."
"Yes, I know him."
"And don't like him, evidently," observed Charley, judging from his
friend's tone.
"That is true; I don't like him. But you haven't answered my
question."
"I have met him on nearly every race-course I have been to; he is
always to be seen in the 'ring,' I should say."
Felix did not pursue the subject, but later in the day said,
"Have you any documents, Charley, connected with your betting
experiences, or have you destroyed them?"
"I have them all. By-the-bye, they might be useful to you; there are
some strange things among them--well, perhaps not strange in
themselves, but strange that such things should be allowed. It would
be a good subject for you to take up."
"Any letters from that man?"
"O, yes; suppose I send you the packet?"
"I should like to see them."
They were received in due course by Felix, and they so interested him
that he began from that time to subscribe to the sporting papers, and
to make a regular study of the usually unprofitable theme. Any person
who did not know Felix's character might reasonably have supposed that
he had been bitten by the mania, and that he was beginning to
entertain the idea that he might make a fortune by betting with
sharps. They would have had ample grounds for so supposing, if they
had known that Felix actually sent small sums in stamps to the
prophets and tipsters and the layers of odds who advertised in the
sporting papers, for the purpose of obtaining the information
necessary for the rapid and certain realisation of "fabulous sums"--a
phrase which many of the advertisers used in the traps they set,
unconscious of the ironical truth it contained. But what Felix was
doing was a means to another end, and he lost his money cheerfully. He
began to frequent race-courses also, and on one occasion, early in his
experience, he saw Lily's brother, as he expected to see him, running
hither and thither in a state of blind excitement. With a set
determination, Felix watched the young man during the whole of the
day, saw the fatal infatuation which urged him onwards, and saw him
pass through the various stages of hope, suspense, and agony. Felix
saw more with the eyes of his mind; he saw ruin waiting at Alfred's
heels. Felix had met with an old legend which stated how every human
being was attended by two angels, one bad, one good, and how they
strove for mastery over the soul they attended. As the recollection of
this legend came to him, Felix looked up and saw Alfred's bad angel,
Mr. David Sheldrake, talking to Alfred, and Alfred eagerly listening.
It saddened Felix to see this, although he fully expected it, and was
prepared for it. "Alfred's good angel," he thought, "is love. But love
has no sword to strike this false friend dead." But Felix went home
that evening with a clue in his hand.
On this night, as Felix walked away from Lily's house, he thought of
these things, and was too disturbed to go home. He walked about the
quiet streets, and at the end of an hour found himself on the Thames
Embankment. As he stood there, musing, gazing into the solemn river,
he became conscious of a sudden tremor in the air. He looked around
with a feeling of vague alarm upon him, but he saw nothing, heard
nothing. "Pshaw!" he muttered. "Mr. Podmore's presentiment is
frightening me with shadows. I'll stroll past Lily's house, and then
go home to bed."