This Man's Wife. Fenn George Manville
you miserable gaol-bird, what do you mean by coming to me?”
“Mean by coming? I mean you to do things right. If you’d had your dues you’d have been where I was; only you played monkey and made me cat.”
“What?”
“And I had my paws burned while you got the chestnuts.”
“You scoundrel!” cried Hallam, rushing to the fireplace and ringing sharply, “I’ll have the constable and put a stop to this.”
“No, no, no, don’t, don’t, Rob. I’ll do anything you like; I won’t say anything,” gasped the visitor piteously, “only: don’t send for the constable.”
“Indeed but I will,” cried Hallam fiercely, as he walked to the door: but his visitor made quite a leap, fell at his feet, and clung to his legs.
“No, no, don’t, don’t,” he cried hoarsely, and Hallam shook him off, opened the door, and called out:
“Never mind, now; I’ll ring in a few minutes.”
He closed the door and stood scowling at his visitor.
“I did not think you’d be so hard on a poor fellow when he was down, Hallam,” he whimpered, “I didn’t, ’pon my honour.”
“Your honour, you dog, you gaol-bird,” cried Hallam in a low, angry voice. “How dare you come down and insult me!”
“I – thought you’d help me, that you’d lend your old friend a hand now you’re so well off, while I am in a state like this.”
“And did you come in the right way, you dog, bullying and threatening me, thinking to frighten me, just as if you could find a soul to take any notice of a word such a blackguard as you would say? But there, I’ve no time to waste; I’ve done wrong in bringing you here. Go and tell everybody in the town what you please, how I was in the same bank with you in London and you were given into custody for embezzlement, and at your trial received for sentence two years’ imprisonment.”
“Yes, when if I had been a coward and spoken out – ”
Hallam made a move towards him, when the poor, weak, broken-down wretch cowered lower.
“Don’t, Rob; don’t, old man,” he cried piteously. “I’ll never say a word. I’ll never open my lips. You know I wouldn’t be such a coward, bad as I am. But you will help a fellow, won’t you?”
“Help you? What, have you come to me for blackmail? Why should I help you?”
“Because we were old friends, Hallam. Because I always looked up to you, and did what you told me; and you don’t know what it has been, Rob, you don’t indeed! I used to be a strong fellow, but this two years have brought me down till I’m as thin and weak as you see me. I’m like a great girl; least thing makes me cry and sob, so that I feel ashamed of myself!”
“Ashamed? You?” cried Hallam scornfully.
“Yes, I do, ’pon my word, Rob. But you will help me, won’t you?”
“No. Go to the constable’s place, and they’ll give you an order for the workhouse. Be off, and if you ever dare to come asking for me again, I’ll send for the officer at once.”
“But – but you will give me a shilling or two, Hallam,” said the miserable wretch. “I’m half-starved.”
“You deserve to be quite starved! Now go.”
“But, Hallam, won’t you believe me, old fellow? I want to be honest now – to do the right thing.”
“Go and do it, then,” said Hallam contemptuously. “Be off.”
“But give me a chance, old fellow; just one.”
“I tell you I’ll do nothing for you,” cried Hallam fiercely. “On the strength of your having been once respectable, if you had come to me humbly I’d have helped you, but you came down here to try and frighten me with your noise and bullying. You thought that if you came to the bank you would be able to dictate all your own terms; but you have failed, Stephen Crellock: so now go.”
“But, Rob, old fellow, I was so – so hard up. You don’t know.”
“Are you going before I send for the constable?”
“Yes, yes, I’m going,” said the miserable wretch, gathering himself up. “I’m sorry I came to you, Hallam. I thought you would have helped a poor wretch, down as I am.”
“And you found out your mistake. A man in my position does not know a gaol-bird.”
There was a flash from the sunken eyes, and a quick gesture, but the flash died out, and the gesture seemed to be cut in half. Two years’ hard labour in one of His Majesty’s gaols had pretty well broken the weak fellow’s spirit. He stepped to the door, glanced round the comfortable room, uttered a low moan, and was half out, when Hallam uttered sharply the one word “Stop!”
His visitor paused, and looked eagerly round upon him.
“Look here, Stephen Crellock,” he said, “I don’t like to see a man like you go to the dogs without giving him a chance. There, come back and close the door!”
The poor wretch came back hurriedly, and made a snatch at Hallam’s hand, which was withdrawn.
“No, no, wait till you’ve proved yourself an honest man,” he said.
Crellock’s eyes flashed again, but, as before, the flash died out at once, and he stood humbly before his old fellow clerk.
Hallam remained silent for a few moments, and then as if he had made up his mind, he said: “I ought to hand you over to the constable, that is, if I did my duty as manager of Dixons’ Bank, and a good member of society; but I can’t forget that you were once a smart, gentlemanly-looking young fellow, who slipped and fell.”
Crellock stood bent and humbled, staring at him in silence.
“I’m going to let heart get the better of discipline,” continued Hallam, “and to-night I’m going to give you five guineas to get back to London and make a fresh start; and till that fresh start is made, and you can do without it, I’m going to give you a pound a week, if asked for by letter humbly, and in a proper spirit.”
“Rob!”
“There, there; no words. I don’t want thanks. I know I’m doing wrong, and I hope my weakness will not prove my punishment.”
“It shan’t, Rob; it shan’t,” faltered the poor shivering wretch, who had hard work to keep back his tears.
“There are four guineas, there’s a half, and there are ten shillings in silver. Now go to some decent inn – here is some food for present use – get a bed, and to-morrow morning catch the coach, and get back to London to seek work.”
Hallam handed him the parcel he had made.
“I will, Rob; I will, Mr Hallam, sir, and may – ”
“There, that will do,” said Hallam, interrupting him. “Prove all your gratitude by making yourself independent as soon as you can. There, you see you have not frightened me into bribing you to be silent.”
“No, no, sir. Oh, no, I see that!” said the poor wretch dolefully. “I’m very grateful, I am, indeed, and I will try.”
“Go, then, and try,” said Hallam shortly. “Stop a moment.”
He rang his bell, and Mrs Pinet entered promptly, glancing curiously at the visitor, and then back at her lodger, who paused to give her ample time to take in the scene.
“Mrs Pinet,” he said at last, and in the coolest and most matter-of-fact way, “this poor fellow wants a lodging for the night at some respectable place, where they will not be hard upon his pocket.”
“Well, sir, then he couldn’t do better than go to Mrs Deene’s, sir. A very respectable woman, whose husband – ”
“Yes, to be sure, Mrs Pinet,” said Hallam abruptly; “then