A GENEROUS BANKER.
The ring lay on the little table. Mr. Grey did not take it up, but left
it where Farleg had placed it.
When the banker had pulled out the drawer half-a-dozen inches, he looked
up from the ring, and, with a glance of kindly interest, said:
"So you intend leaving the country. Why? And where do you purpose
going?"
Farleg looked down at his boots, and thrust up his shoulders as he
answered:
"Well, sir, things are getting hot, and the place is getting hot. It
isn't every one has so much consideration as you for a man who has to
live as best he can----"
"Poor fellow!"
"And if I and the old woman don't clear out of this soon, why, they'll
be sending me away, 'Carriage paid: with care.'"
He paused, raised his head, and turned those prominent blue eyes on the
face of the banker. The latter was drawing small circles on the table in
front of him with the white forefinger of his left hand, his eyes
intently followed his finger, his white right hand rested on the edge of
the partly open drawer.
Mr. Grey said, softly and emphatically: "I understand, I understand. Go
on, and don't be afraid to speak plainly, Joe. May I ask you what you
were before you devoted yourself to your present--profession? Your
conversation and way of putting things are far above the average of men
of your calling;" with a smile of sly interest.
"I was a clerk, sir," answered the man meekly.
"In a bank?" demanded the banker, looking up brightly.
"No, sir; in a corn-store."
"Ah, I thought it couldn't have been in a bank. We are not so fortunate
as to have men of your talents and enterprise in banks. But I
interrupted you. Pray, proceed. You were about to say----" The
invitation was accompanied by a gracious and encouraging wave of the
left hand.
"I was thinking, sir, that it would be best if I went away of my own
accord; and I thought I'd just mention this matter to you when I called
with the guard ring of your good lady that's dead and gone."
"Quite right, quite right. And naturally you thought that I might be
willing to lend you a hand on your way, partly out of feeling for you
in your difficult position, and partly out of gratitude to you for your
kind thoughtfulness in bringing me back the guard ring of poor Mrs.
Grey."
The white forefinger of the white left hand went on quietly describing
the circles, but the circles were one after the other increasing in
circumference. The white right hand still rested on the edge of the
partly-open drawer.
"That's it," said Farleg, with a sigh of relief. It was such a comfort
to deal with a sensible man, a man who did most of the talking and
thinking for you. "You know, sir, I found the rings----"
"Quite so, quite so."
Mr. Grey gave up describing circles, and for a while devoted himself to
parallelograms. When he had finished each figure he regarded the
invisible design for a while as though comparing the result of his
labour with an ideal parallelogram. Then, becoming dissatisfied with
his work, he began afresh.
"Quite so," he repeated, after a silence of a few moments. "You need not
trouble yourself to go into detail. In fact, I prefer you should not, as
my feelings are still much occupied with my great loss. Will you answer
a few questions that may help to allay and soothe my feelings?"
He ceased drawing the parallelograms, and looked up at the other with a
glance of friendly enquiry.
Farleg threw himself back in his chair, and replied gravely: "I'll
answer you, sir, any question it may please you to put."
"At what hour on the evening of the 17th did you break into this house?"
"Eight o'clock."
"By Jove, Joe, you were an adventurous fellow to break into a house in
daylight! I do think, in the face of such an enterprising spirit, you
ought to seek a new country, where you would be properly appreciated.
You have no chance here. Go to some place where the telegraph has not
yet struck root. And yet for a man of your peculiar calling a dense
population and civilisation are requisite. Your case, Joe, interests me
a good deal, and, rely upon it, I shall always be glad to hear of your
welfare and prosperity. I feel for you in your little difficulty, and I
applaud your boldness. Fancy, breaking into a man's house at eight
o'clock of an August evening! And how did you get in, Joe? I suppose by
a ladder the workman had left against the wall?"
"Yes, sir. It was seeing a ladder against the wall that put the idea
into my head."
The banker looked at Farleg with an expression of unlimited admiration.
"What a general you would make, Joe!" cried Mr. Grey, in pleasant
enthusiasm. "You would use every bulrush as cover for your men! And so,
when you saw the ladder against the wall, you thought to yourself you
might as well slip up that ladder and have a look round? What a pushing
man of business too! And you were alone?"
"Yes."
"You entered the tower first-floor, and gathered up a few things, this
ring of my poor wife among the rest. But I don't think you went into any
other room?"
"No, sir."
"And I don't think you could have been very long in the room; now, about
how long?"
"Short of an hour. I heard you coming back, and I cleared out then."
"Ah! You heard me coming back, and you cleared out then. Quite so. No
doubt it was inconsiderate of me to come back and disturb you. But, you
know, I was in a great state of anxiety and alarm--anxiety and alarm
which were unfortunately only too well founded, as you, no doubt, have
heard; we need not dwell on that painful event now. May I ask you if you
have spoken of this affair to anyone?"
"No."
"Not to a soul?"
"Not to a soul."
"What a discreet general you would make! Upon my word I think you ought
to go to California. San Francisco is the place for one so daring and so
cautious. What a dashing cavalry leader you would make! And yet it would
be a pity to throw you away on cavalry. Your natural place would be in
the engineers."
Mr. Grey half closed his eyes, and gazed dreamily for a few seconds at
the reclining figure of the man before him. Then hitching his chair a
few inches nearer to the small table standing between him and Farleg, he
said, in a drawling tone, as he softly slipped his hand into the drawer:
"I admire you for your ingenuity in availing yourself of that ladder,
and for your boldness in entering the house in daylight. But I am
completely carried away with enthusiasm when I think of your coming here
to me, telling me this tale, and preserving the admirable calmness which
you display. Indeed, Joe, I am amazed."
"Thank you, sir."
"Now, how much money did you think I'd be likely to give to help you out
of this scrape, and out of this country?"
"Mr. Grey, you're a rich man."
The banker bowed and smiled.
"And that ring ought to be worth a heap of money to you."
"A guinea, or perhaps thirty shillings. At the very most I should say
two pounds."
"But, sir, considering that it was your wife's, and that she wore it on
the very day----"
"Quite so. On the very day of her wedding----"
"That is not what I meant----"
"But that is the aspect of the affair which endears the ring to me. Pray
let us keep to the business in hand. You bring me a ring which I own I
should not like you to have kept from me. You make me a present of this
ring, and you ask me to help you out of the country. Now, how much would
be sufficient to help you out of the country, and settle you and your
wife comfortably in a new home?"
"A thousand pounds."
"A thousand pounds! My dear Joe, if you were about to represent the
majesty of the kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland at a foreign court,
you could ask little more for travelling-expenses and commencing
existence. A thousand pounds! What a lucrative business yours must have
been to make you hope you could get a thousand pounds for the goodwill
of it!"
"But it is not every day a thing like this turns up. You have a lot of
waiting before you get your chance. In fact, my chance did not belong to
the ordinary business at all."
"Quite so. It was a kind of perquisite. Well, now, Joe, don't you think
if I gave you twenty-five pounds as a present it would fully provide for
your outward voyage?" Mr. Grey made the proposal with a winning and an
enticing gesture of his left hand.
Farleg looked down at his boots again, and said very slowly, and with an
accent that left no doubt of his earnestness and determination:
"It isn't often a chance of this kind turns up, and I can't afford to
let it pass; no honest man could afford to let it pass, and I have a
wife looking to me. You have no one looking to you, not even a wife--not
even a wife."
"Quite so."
"Well, I want the money. I want to try and get an honest start in life,
and I think I shall buy land----"
"Out of the thousand pounds?" queried Mr. Grey, with a look of amused
enjoyment.
"Out of the thousand pounds you are going to give me. Can't you see,"
added Farleg, sitting up in his chair, leaning both his elbows on the
small table between them, "can't you see it's to your advantage as well
as mine to give me a large sum?"
"Candidly I cannot," answered Mr. Grey, tapping Farleg encouragingly on
the shoulder with his white left hand. "Tell me how it is. I am quite
willing to be convinced."
"Well, if I take your five-and-twenty, I spend it here, or I spend it
getting there, and then I'm stranded, don't you see, sir?"
"Go on." With two soft appreciative pats from the left white hand.
"Of course, as soon as I find myself hard up I come to you, or I write
to you for more, and that would only be wasting your time."
"But," said Mr. Grey, with a sly look and a sly wag of his head, "if you
got the thousand you might spend it here or there, and then you might
again be applying to me. Ah, no! Joe, I don't think it would do to give
you that thousand. You can have the twenty-five now, if you like."
"Well, sir, I've looked into the matter deeper than that. When you give
me the thousand, I and my wife will leave this country, go to America,
out West, and buy land. There we shall settle down as respectable
people, and it would be no advantage to me to rake up the past, once I
was settled down and prosperous. So, sir, if you please, I'll have the
thousand."
There was respectful resolution in Farleg's voice as he spoke. The faces
of the two men were not more than a foot apart now. They were looking as
straight into one another's eyes as two experienced fencers when the
play begins. Mr. Grey's face ceased to move, and took a settled
expression of gracious badinage.
"I think, Joe," said he, "that I can manage the matter more economically
than your way."
"What is that way, sir?"
"As I told you before, I look on you as a very enterprising man. First,
you break into a man's house in daylight, and then you come and beard
the lion in his den. You come to the man whose house you honoured by a
visit through a window, and you say to him--I admit that nothing could
have been in better taste than your manner of saying it----"
"Thank you, sir, but you took me so kindly and so gentleman-like."
"Thank _you_, Joe; but I mustn't compliment you again, or we shall get
no farther than compliments to-night. As I was saying, you ask him for
no less than a thousand pounds to help you out of the country and into
a respectable line of life. Indeed, all my sympathy is with you in your
good intention, but then I have to think of myself----"
"But you're a rich man, sir, and to you a thousand pounds isn't much,
and it's everything to me. It will make me safe, and help me out of a
way of life I never took to until driven to it," pleaded Farleg.
"Well put, very well put. Now, this is my position. This is my plan; let
me hear what you think of it: On the night or evening of the 17th you
break into my house; on the night or evening of the 27th you visit me
for some purpose or other----"
"To give you back your dead wife's ring."
"Quite so. You may be sure I am overlooking no point in the case. Let me
proceed with my view. You and I don't get on well together, and you
attack me. You are clearly the burglar, and I am attacked by you, and I
defend myself with force. You kill me; that is no good to you. You won't
make a penny by my death. But suppose it should unhappily occur that the
revolver, on the trigger of which, Joe, I now have my finger, and the
muzzle of which is about a foot from your heart, suppose it should go
off, what then? You can see the accident would be all in my favour."
Farleg uttered a loud whistle.
For a second no word was spoken. No movement was made in that room.
All at once, apparently from the feet of the two men, a wild alarmed
scream of a woman shot up through the silence, and shook the silence
into echoes of chattering fear.
As though a blast had struck the banker's face, it shrivelled up like a
withered leaf. Something heavy fell from his hand in the drawer, and he
rose slowly, painfully, to his feet.
Farleg rose also, keeping his face in the same relation, and on the same
level as the banker's, until the pinched face of the banker stole slowly
above the burglar's.
The hands of Grey rested on the table. His eyes were fixed on vacancy.
He seemed to be listening intently, spellbound by some awful vision,
some distracting anticipation intimately concerned with appalling
voices.
Slowly from his lips trickled the whispered words: "What was that?"
"_My_ wife's voice," whispered Farleg. "You thought it was _yours_. When
I told you no one knew, I meant I had no pal. But my wife knows _all_,
and if anything came amiss to me she'd tell all."
"I understand," the banker answered, still in a whisper. The dread was
slowly descending from his face, and he made a hideous attempt at a
smile.
"I, too," pursued Farleg, "was afraid we might quarrel, and left her
there. For one whistle she was to scream out to show she was on the
watch. For two whistles she was to run away and call help. Do you see,
sir?"
"Very clever. Very neat. You have won the odd trick."
"And honours are divided."
"Yes. How is that money to reach you?"
"I'd like it in gold, sir, if you please. You can send it in a large
parcel, a hamper, sir, or a large box, so that no one need be the wiser.
I'm for your own good as well as my own in this matter."
"You shall have the money the day after to-morrow at four o'clock. It
will reach you from London. Now go."
"Well, after what has been done, and our coming to a bargain, shake
hands, Wat," said the man, in a tone of insolent triumph.
"Go, sir. Go at once!"
"Honours are not divided; I hold three to your one. Give me your hand,
old man. Joe Farleg will never split on a pal."
With a shudder of loathing the banker held out his hand.
As soon as he was alone, the moment the door was shut, he took up the
claret-jug, poured the contents over his right hand to cleanse it from
the contamination of that touch, and then walked hastily up and down the
room, waving his hand through the air until it dried.
"A thousand isn't much to secure him. But will it secure him? That is
the question. Yes, I think it will. I think the coast is now clear. With
prudence and patience I can do all now," he whispered to himself, with
his left hand on his forehead. "Wat Grey, you've had a close shave.
Nothing could have been closer. Had you pulled that trigger all would
have been lost. Now you have a clear stage, and must let things take
their course. The old man can't live for ever; and until he dies you
must keep quiet and repress all indication of the direction in which
your hopes lie. Maud does not dream of this."
A knock at the door.
"Come in."
James, the servant, entered, holding a slip of paper in his hand.
"What is it, James?" asked the master.
"That man that's gone out, sir, said he forgot to give his address, and
as you might want it he asked me to take it up to you."
Mr. Grey was standing by the low gasalier as the servant handed him the
piece of paper.
Mr. Grey took the address in his right hand; as he did so the purblind
footman sprang back a pace.
"What's the matter?" demanded Mr. Grey with an amused smile.
"Ex--excuse--me--sir," the man faltered, "but your hand----"
"Well, what about it?"
"It's all over blood!"
"What! What do you say?" shouted the master, in a tone of dismay. "Do
_you_ want a thousand too?"
"Indeed, no, sir; and I beg pardon; but do look at your hand."
Mr. Grey held up his hand, examined it, and then burst out into a loud
shout of laughter. When he could speak he cried:
"You charming idiot! You will kill me with your droll ways. That dirty
wretch who went out touched my hand. I had no water near me, so I poured
some claret over my hand and forgot to wipe it."
He approached James and held out his hand, saying, "Look." Then added,
in a tone of solemn amusement: "James, there was once a man who died of
laughing at seeing an ass eat. I do think I shall die of laughing at
hearing a donkey talk. Bring me the coffee. Go."
And as the servant was leaving the room, Mr. Grey broke out into a laugh
of quiet self-congratulation on the fact of his possessing such a
wonderful source of amusement in his servant, James.