Love and the Ironmonger

by W. W. Jacobs

  CHAPTER XVI--_George Early and the Giant Alcohol_

  Master Cacklin was perched upon a high stool, eagerly devouring areport of the match between Teddy Sneffler and The Midget, for theBantam championship, when a succession of soft squeaky footsteps fellon his ear. As they ascended the stairs he turned his head. The paperwas quickly thrust into his desk, and the Cacklin pen began to movewith marvellous rapidity.

  A bell rang, loudly and impatiently.

  "Who's that?" said William Budd, appearing from an obscure corner.

  "Guvnor," said Cacklin. "Upstairs--sharp!"

  "Who said the guvnor was here?" inquired Busby, coming forward andlooking at the clock, which pointed to a quarter past nine.

  "It's right enough," said Cacklin; "just come in. Something on theboard, I expect."

  William Budd entered the upstairs room with that feeling of suppressedexcitement which always arises when the "guvnor" appears in the officean hour before his usual time.

  "I want Mr. Gray," said George, sharply.

  "Yes, sir." The boy disappeared.

  In five minutes he reappeared. "Mr. Gray's out, sir."

  "Say I want him as soon as he comes in."

  "Yes, sir."

  George fingered the letters on his desk, looked at the post-marks, andput them down without opening any. He walked to the window and stoodfor five minutes looking at the traffic outside. His usualimperturbability had deserted him to-day, chased away by the events ofthe previous evening. He walked up and down the big office, lit acigarette, and paused at intervals to look in the mirror over themantelshelf.

  "Lucky thing I got that information last night," he said presently."That ass Gray is sure to make a fool of himself unless I take him inhand--sure to do it. And that old idiot, too! 'Legacies revert to hisdaughter's husband.' Never heard of such rot in my life."

  He touched the bell again, and again the surprised Budd appeared.

  "Mr. Gray," said George.

  "Not come back, sir," said the boy.

  "Find him--find him!" said the new master.

  "When did he go out--how long ago?"

  "Dunno, sir," said the boy.

  "Find out. Be sharp!"

  The offices below were aroused into activity by the peremptory ordersto find Gray. William Budd's version of his brief interview createdsome excitement. He described George Early as walking up and down theoffice with arms waving, and eyes starting from his head. He orderedGray to be found, dead or alive. Budd was not sure that he didn't see arevolver lying on the desk.

  Ten o'clock struck, but no Gray appeared. Office-boys and junior clerkshad spurted east and west. Nobody knew where Gray had gone, and thereappeared to be no reason why he should leave the office. He might havegone out on the firm's business, but if so nobody knew of it. Wild werethe conjectures as to what was in store for him when he returned, andwhy he had disappeared.

  At lunch-time Gray was still absent, and the latest news in thecounting-house was that the "guvnor" had gone out to lunch with a slow,firm step, and a Napoleonic sternness of brow.

  While this excitement was rife in Upper Thames Street, Mrs. Gray wasbusy with her work in the little Leytonstone house. If her husband hadimportant business of his own to transact, it was clear she did notknow it. She had just put up a pair of clean curtains to the frontwindow, and lovingly caressed a pink bow that held one of them back,when a sharp knock came at the front door.

  Mrs. Gray opened it, and started back in surprise, "Well, I never! Thisis a surprise! How do you do, Mr. Early? Won't you come in?"

  George Early did go in. Moreover, he shook hands, and said that it wasa pleasure to him to find Mrs. Gray looking so well. His smile wasperhaps not so brilliant as of yore, but Mrs. Gray put that down to theworries of managing a large business, and the severity necessary to hisposition.

  Mrs. Gray thought it very kind of her old lodger not to forget hislandlady. She hoped Mrs. Early was well. George was pleased to say thatMrs. Early was in excellent health and spirits.

  "And how are you getting on now?" said George, when he had passed aslightly as possible over his change of position. "You have anotherlodger, I suppose?"

  Mrs. Gray was sorry to say that she hadn't. Jimmy was very well, butsome horrid person had accused him of drinking, and he had lost thesecretaryship of the club.

  "It's a shame!" said George. "But, between ourselves, I'm afraidthere's some truth in it."

  "Truth in what?" said Mrs. Gray, fearfully.

  "He drinks," said George, solemnly. "Now, what did he have thismorning?"

  "Nothing but his breakfast," cried Mrs. Gray. "He had his breakfast andwent off as usual."

  "Good," thought George; "then he isn't here?"

  "The fact is," he said, "I came down especially to see you about this.He must be got to sign the pledge, and we must keep the closest watchupon him to see that he never takes anything."

  "Is it so bad as that?" said Mrs. Gray, with wide-open eyes.

  "It is," said George, mysteriously, "for you."

  "What do you mean?" said Mrs. Gray.

  "He has always been a friend of mine," said George, absently, "and I'llnever let it be said that I haven't stretched out a hand to help him.Besides, he doesn't do it of his own accord, as you may say. And itisn't as if you weren't a good wife to him, because I know that youare."

  "Whatever is the matter?" cried Mrs. Gray, clasping her handsfrantically.

  "He must sign the pledge," said George again. "You're a good wife tohim, and he doesn't do it willingly."

  "Doesn't do what?"--wildly.

  George laid one hand upon Mrs. Gray's sleeve, and looked steadily intoher eyes.

  "Does he ever talk in his sleep?" he asked.

  "I don't think so--not much. I haven't noticed."

  "Never mentions the name Flora, Alice, or May, I suppose?"

  "I don't think--you don't mean to say----"

  "Never speaks of Christabel--Chrissy, does he?"

  Mrs. Gray burst into tears. George sighed, and tried to comfort her bylittle pats on the shoulder.

  "There, there; you mustn't blame him," he said. "It isn't his fault,you know."

  Mrs. Gray cried louder, and her little form shook with emotion.

  "He--he goes with other girls. I k-know he does!" she cried. "Oh! oh!oh!"

  "'Tisn't Jimmy," said George, soothingly. "It's the whisky."

  "Oh! oh!" cried Mrs. Gray. "He--he goes with other girls!"

  "He doesn't," said George, boldly. "I won't hear it. You shan't blamehim. It isn't fair!"

  Mrs. Gray grew calmer, but still continued to sob. She was alwaysprepared to back up the opinions of George, whom she held to be a manof excellent qualities, with an idolatrous affection for her husband.

  "It isn't fair that you should go against him when he is not to blame,"said George. "You should save him from them."

  Mrs. Gray wiped her eyes meekly.

  "What you must do," said George, "is to insist on his signing thepledge. That's the only way. And you must make him promise you never totouch another drop of drink. When he's had a glass he's a differentman, and isn't responsible for his actions."

  "Does it--does it make him look at other girls?" asked Mrs. Gray,tremblingly.

  "It does," said George. "You've guessed it at once. It makes himterribly affectionate, too. Why, when Alice--you see, it's a verypeculiar disease, very common in Turkey. As soon as you begin to drink,you get an idea that every girl's in love with you. And the worst of itis that a man might propose without knowing it. Now, Flora--well, theonly thing for him to do is to sign the pledge and keep it."

  "He shall sign it to-morrow," said Mrs. Gray, firmly.

  "I shouldn't let him know that I've been here," said George. "He'llonly worry himself, thinking there's something wrong with his work."

  "Who's Flora?" asked Mrs. Gray, the fierce light of jealousy kindlingin her eye.

  "Don't you bother about her. She won't come down here."

  "She'd b
etter not," said Mrs. Gray, with compressed lips. "I'd give herFlora--or May--or Chrissy, if she came here!"

  "I believe you would," said George, with admiration.

  "I'll smash every whisky-bottle in the place," said Mrs. Gray, whoseindignation was now rising to fever pitch. "Not another drop shall hetouch if I know it! I'll soon see about Flora!"

  George prepared to depart, perfectly satisfied that his mission hadbeen a success. He took the hand of his old landlady, and said, withsome emotion--

  "Don't be too hard on him. You don't know how--how it cuts me to theheart to see him do wrong. But remember that he's my old chum. Togetherwe'll drag him away from this curse. He's my chum and your husband--thebest fellow that ever lived. Let us save him, and be gentle to him atthe same time. Goodbye, good-bye!"

  George wrung her hand, and hurried off, to all appearances only just intime to prevent the tears coming.

  Mrs. Gray looked after him down the street, and felt her heart glow.

  "Ah, Jimmy," she murmured, shaking her head, "you don't realize howmuch that friend has done for you!"

  George travelled back to the office, and reached it just as the officestaff was preparing to give up work for the day.

  "I suppose Gray's here," he said, summoning a junior clerk. "What timedid he get back?"

  The clerk coughed discreetly. "'Fraid he hasn't come back yet, sir," hesaid.

  "Send Mr. Busby to me."

  The youth departed.

  "Not back yet!" said George, looking hard at the fireplace. "I wonderwhat he's up to. If the lunatic is out drinking, they'll be on histrack, as sure as Fate. Busby," he said, as the cashier entered, "whathas become of Gray?"

  Busby could give no solution to the problem. "He put on his hat andwent off about half-past eight," he said. "I didn't notice anythingpeculiar about him, except that he swore rather more than usual. Inoticed that he looked several times at a blue paper he got by thismorning's post, and----"

  "What!" yelled the master, springing out of his chair.

  "A blue paper," repeated Busby, dodging behind the desk in alarm.

  George grasped him by the collar fiercely. "You say he got a blue paperthis morning!" he cried.

  "Y-yes," said Busby, promptly putting himself in the defensive.

  George cast him off. "Enough!" he said. "Go!"

  "It was a blue envelope," said Busby, "and when he opened it----"

  "Go, will you!"

  "There was a long blue paper inside," said the cashier, moving acrossthe carpet. "So I----"

  George picked up a heavy bill file and flung it just as Busby skippedout of the door.

  "He's done it!--the silly, stupid idiot has done it, and it's on me!And I've been down to his house and made a fool of myself!"

  On arriving at Brunswick Terrace George Early's fears were confirmed bythe sight of a formidable blue envelope addressed to himself. Adocument inside set forth the fact, in legal phraseology, that JamesGray had forfeited his claim to the Fairbrother's annuity, and that thesaid annuity had now fallen to Mr. George Early, husband of EllenFairbrother. The said George Early was duly warned of the terribleissues at stake, consequent upon his not observing the rules of thelegacy, the aforesaid issues leading to the ultimate forfeiture of theFairbrother estates by the said George Early's wife.

  "Well, I'm a teetotaler now," said George, resignedly. "There's nogetting out of it."

  "It's better for you," said Aunt Phoebe. "I never did believe indrink."

  "Nobody asked you to," said her nephew. "I don't believe in it. I takeit for my health."

  Nevertheless, he interviewed the smart young lawyer at Dibbs and Dubbs,who confirmed everything that had been said on the forfeiture of theestate.

  "We shall watch you closely," he said brightly to George, rubbinghis hands. "On behalf of the trustees of the 'Very Dark AfricanMission,' who will benefit by the estate, I am directed towatch--you--very--closely."

  "That's right," said George. "You keep your eye on me. I wish youluck!"