CHAPTER XXXII.
MR. LARKIN AND THE VICAR.
The good vicar was not only dismayed but endangered by his brother'sprotracted absence. It was now the first week in November. Bleak andwintry that ungenial month set in at Gylingden; and in accord with thetempestuous and dismal weather the fortunes of the Rev. William Wylderwere darkened and agitated.
This morning a letter came at breakfast, by post, and when he had readit, the poor vicar grew a little white, and he folded it very quietly andput it in his waistcoat pocket, and patted little Fairy on the head.Little Fairy was asking him a question all this time, very vehemently,'How long was Jack's sword that he killed the giants with?' and severaltimes to this distinct question he received only the unsatisfactoryreply, 'Yes, my darling;' and at last, when little Fairy mounted hisknee, and hugging the abstracted vicar round the neck, urged his questionwith kisses and lamentations, the parson answered with a look of greatperplexity, and only half recalled, said, 'Indeed, little man, I don'tknow. How long, you say, was Jack's sword? Well, I dare say it was aslong as the umbrella.' He got up, with the same perplexed and absentlook, as he said this, and threw an anxious glance about the room, as iflooking for something he had mislaid.
'You are not going to write now, Willie, dear?' expostulated his goodlittle wife, 'you have not tasted your tea yet.'
'I have, indeed, dear; haven't I? Well, I will.'
And, standing, he drank nearly half the cup she had poured out for him,and set it down, and felt in his pocket, she thought, for his keys.
'Are you looking for anything, Willie, darling? Your keys are in mybasket.'
'No, darling; no, darling--nothing. I have everything I want. I think Imust go to the Lodge and see Mr. Larkin, for a moment.'
'But you have eaten nothing,' remonstrated his partner; 'you must not gountil you have eaten something.'
'Time enough, darling; I can't wait--I sha'n't be away twentyminutes--time enough when I come back.'
'Have you heard anything of Mark, darling?' she enquired eagerly.
'Of Mark? Oh, no!--nothing of Mark.' And he added with a deep sigh, 'Oh,dear! I wonder he does not write--no, nothing of Mark.'
She followed him into the hall.
'Now, Willie darling, you must not go till you have had yourbreakfast--you will make yourself ill--indeed you will--do come back,just to please me, and eat a little first.'
'No, darling; no, my love--I can't, indeed. I'll be back immediately; butI must catch Mr. Larkin before he goes out. It is only a little matter--Iwant to ask his opinion--and--oh! here is my stick--and I'll returnimmediately.'
'And I'll go with you,' cried little Fairy.
'No, no, little man; I can't take you--no, it is business--stay withmamma, and I'll be back again in a few minutes.'
So, spite of Fairy's clamours and the remonstrances of his fond, clinginglittle wife, with a hurried kiss or two, away he went alone, at a veryquick pace, through the high street of Gylingden, and was soon in theaudience chamber of the serious, gentleman attorney.
The attorney rose with a gaunt and sad smile of welcome--begged Mr.Wylder, with a wave of his long hand, to be seated--and then seatinghimself and crossing one long thigh over the other, he threw his arm overthe back of his chair, and leaning back with what he conceived to be agraceful and gentlemanly negligence--with his visitor full in the lightof the window and his own countenance in shadow, the light coming frombehind--a diplomatic arrangement which he affected--he fixed his small,pink eyes observantly upon him, and asked if he could do anything for Mr.William Wylder.
'Have you heard anything since, Mr. Larkin? Can you conjecture where hisaddress may now be?' asked the vicar, a little abruptly.
'Oh! Mr. Mark Wylder, perhaps, you refer to?'
'Yes; my brother, Mark.'
Mr. Larkin smiled a sad and simple smile, and shook his head.
'No, indeed--not a word--it is very sad, and involves quite a world oftrouble--and utterly inexplicable; for I need not tell you, in myposition, it can't be pleasant to be denied all access to the client whohas appointed me to act for him, nor conducive to the apprehension of hiswishes upon many points, which I should much prefer not being left to mydiscretion. It is really, as I say, inexplicable, for Mr. Mark Wyldermust thoroughly see all this: he is endowed with eminent talents forbusiness, and must perfectly appreciate the embarrassment in which themystery with which he surrounds the place of his abode must involve thosewhom he has appointed to conduct his business.'
'I have heard from him this morning,' resumed the lawyer; 'he was pleasedto direct a power of attorney to me to receive his rents and signreceipts; and he proposes making Lord Viscount Chelford and Captain Laketrustees, to fund his money or otherwise invest it for his use, and'--
'Has he--I beg pardon--but did he mention a little matter in which I amdeeply--indeed, vitally interested?' The vicar paused.
'I don't quite apprehend; perhaps if you were to frame your question alittle differently, I might possibly--a--you were saying'--
'I mean a matter of very deep interest to me,' said the poor vicar,colouring a little, 'though no very considerable sum, viewed absolutely;but, under my unfortunate circumstances, of the most urgent importance--aloan of three hundred pounds--did he mention it?'
Again Mr. Larkin shook his head, with the same sad smile.
'But, though we do not know how to find him, he knows very well where tofind us--and, as you are aware, we hear from him constantly--and no doubthe recollects his promise, and will transmit the necessary directions allin good time.'
'I earnestly hope he may,' and the poor cleric lifted up his eyesunconsciously and threw his hope into the form of a prayer. 'For, tospeak frankly, Mr. Larkin, my circumstances are very pressing. I havejust heard from Cambridge, and find that my good friend, Mr. Mountain,the bookseller, has been dead two months, and his wife--he was awidower when I knew him, but it would seem has married since--ishis sole executrix, and has sold the business, and directedtwo gentlemen--attorneys--to call in all the debts due tohim--peremptorily--and they say I must pay before the 15th; and I have,absolutely, but five pounds in the world, until March, when my half-yearwill be paid. And indeed, only that the tradespeople here are so verykind, we should often find it very difficult to manage.'
'Perhaps,' said Mr. Larkin, blandly, 'you would permit me to look at theletter you mention having received from the solicitors at Cambridge?'
'Oh, thank you, certainly; here it is,' said William Wylder, eagerly, andhe gazed with his kind, truthful eyes upon the attorney's countenance ashe glanced over it, trying to read something of futurity therein.
'Foukes and Mauley,' said Mr. Larkin. 'I have never had but onetransaction with them; they are not always pleasant people to deal with.Mind, I don't say anything affecting their integrity--Heaven forbid; butthey certainly did take rather what I would call a short turn with us onthe occasion to which I refer. You must be cautious; indeed, my dear Sir,_very_ cautious. The fifteenth--just ten clear days. Well, you know youhave till then to look about you; and you know we may any day hear fromyour brother, directing the loan to be paid over to you. And now, my dearand reverend friend, you know me, I hope,' continued Mr. Larkin, verykindly, as he handed back the letter; 'and you won't attribute what I sayto impertinent curiosity; but your brother's intended advance of threehundred pounds can hardly have had relation only to this trifling claimupon you. There are, no doubt--pardon me--several little matters to bearranged; and considerable circumspection will be needed, pending yourbrother's absence, in dealing with the persons who are in a position topress their claims unpleasantly. You must not trifle with these things.And let me recommend you seeing your legal adviser, whoever he is,immediately.'
'You mean,' said the vicar, who was by this time very much flushed, 'agentleman of your profession, Mr. Larkin. Do you really think--well, ithas frequently crossed my mind--but the expense, you know; and althoughmy affairs are in a most unpleasant and complicated state, I am sure thateverything
would be perfectly smooth if only I had received the loan mykind brother intends, and which, to be sure, as you say, any day I mayreceive.'
'But, my dear Sir, do you really mean to say that you would pay claimsfrom various quarters--how old is this, for instance?--withoutexamination!'
The vicar looked very blank.
'I--this--well, this I certainly do owe; it has increased a little withinterest, though good Mr. Mountain never charged more than six per cent.It was, I think, about fifteen pounds--books--I am ashamed to say howlong ago; about a work which I began then, and laid aside--on Eusebius;but which is now complete, and will, I hope, eventually repay me.'
'Were you of age, my dear Sir, when he gave you these books on credit?Were you twenty-one years of age?'
'Oh! no; not twenty; but then I owe it, and I could not, as s a Christianman, you know, evade my debts.'
'Of course; but you can't pay it at present, and it may be highlyimportant to enable you to treat this as a debt of honour, you perceive.Suppose, my dear Sir, they should proceed to arrest you, or tosequestrate the revenue of your vicarage. Now, see, my dear Sir, I am, Ihumbly hope, a Christian man; but you will meet with men in everyprofession--and mine is no exception--disposed to extract the lastfarthing which the law by its extremest process will give them. And Ireally must tell you, frankly, that if you dream of escaping the mostserious consequences, you must at once place yourself and your affairs inthe hands of a competent man of business. It will probably be found thatyou do not in reality owe sixty pounds of every hundred claimed againstyou.'
'Oh, Mr. Larkin, if I could induce _you_.'
Mr. Larkin smiled a melancholy smile, and shook his head.
'My dear Sir, I only wish I could; but my hands are so awfully full,' andhe lifted them up and shook them, and shook his tall, bald head at thesame time, and smiled a weary smile. 'Just look there,' and he waved hisfingers in the direction of the Cyclopean wall of tin boxes, tier abovetier, each bearing, in yellow italics, the name of some countrygentleman, and two baronets among the number; 'everyone of them ladenwith deeds and papers. You can't have a notion--no one has--what it is.'
'I see, indeed,' murmured the honest vicar, in a compassionating tone,and quite entering into the spirit of Mr. Larkin's mournful appeal, as ifthe being in large business was the most distressing situation in whichan attorney could well find himself.
'It was very unreasonable of me to think of troubling you with mywretched affairs; but really I do not know very well where to turn, orwhom to speak to. Maybe, my dear Sir, you can think of some conscientiousand Christian practitioner who is not so laden with other people's caresand troubles as you are. I am a very poor client, and indeed more troublethan I could possibly be gain to anyone. But there may be some one; praythink; ten days is so short a time, and I can do nothing.'
Mr. Larkin stood at the window ruminating, with his left hand in hisbreeches pocket, and his right, with finger and thumb pinching his underlip, after his wont, and the despairing accents of the poor vicar's lastsentence still in his ear.
'Well,' he said hesitatingly, 'it is not easy, at a moment's notice, topoint out a suitable solicitor; there are many, of course, very desirablegentlemen, but I feel it, my dear Sir, a very serious responsibilitynaming one for so peculiar a matter. But you shall not, in the meantime,go to the wall for want of advice. Rely upon it, we'll do the best we canfor you,' he continued, in a patronising way, with his chin raised, andextending his hand kindly to shake that of the parson. 'Yes, I certainlywill--you must have advice. Can you give me two hours to-morrowevening--say to tea--if you will do me the honour. My friend, CaptainLake, dines at Brandon to-morrow. He's staying here with me, you areaware, on a visit; but we shall be quite by ourselves, say at seveno'clock. Bring all your papers, and I'll get at the root of the business,and see, if possible, in each particular case, what line is best to beadopted.'
'How can I thank you, my dear Sir,' cried gentle William Wylder, hiscountenance actually beaming with delight and gratitude--a brighter lookthan it had worn for many weeks.
'Oh, don't--_pray_ don't mention it. I assure you, it is a happiness tome to be of any little use; and, really, I don't see how you couldpossibly hold your own among the parties who are pressing you withoutprofessional advice.'
'I feel,' said the poor vicar, and his eyes filled as he smiled, and hislip quivered a little--'I feel as if my prayer for direction anddeliverance were answered at last. Oh! my dear Sir, I have suffered agreat deal; but something assures me I am rescued, and shall have a quietmind once more--I am now in safe and able hands.' And he shook the safeand able, and rather large, hands of the amiable attorney in both his.
'You make too much of it, my dear Sir. I should at any time be most happyto advise you,' said Mr. Larkin, with a lofty and pleased benevolence,'and with great pleasure, _provisionally_, until we can hit upon asatisfactory solicitor with a little more time at his disposal, Iundertake the management of your case.'
'Thank Heaven!' again said the vicar, who had not let go his hands. 'Andit is so delightful to have for my guide a Christian man, who, even wereI so disposed, would not lend himself to an unworthy or questionabledefence; and although at this moment it is not in my power to reward yourinvaluable assistance----'
'Now really, my dear Sir, I must insist--no more of this, I beseech you.I do most earnestly insist that you promise me you will never mention thematter of professional remuneration more, until, at least, I press it,which, rely upon it, will not be for a good while.'
The attorney's smile plainly said, that his 'good while' meant in fact'never.'
'This is, indeed, unimaginable kindness. How _have_ I deserved sowonderful a blessing!'
'And I have no doubt,' said the attorney, fondling the vicar's arm in hislarge hand, 'that these claims will ultimately be reduced fully thirtyper cent. I had once a good deal of professional experience in this sortof business; and, oh! my dear Sir, it is really _melancholy_!' and upwent his small pink eyes in a pure horror, and his hands were lifted atthe same time; 'but we will bring them to particulars; and you may relyupon it, you will have a much longer time, at all events, than they aredisposed to allow you.'
Wylder's Hand Page 33