by W. W. Jacobs
CHAPTER XVIII--_The Disadvantages of trying to be Good_
At breakfast next morning Mr. George Early was a model of politenessand urbanity. His courteousness obtruded itself so much that AuntPhoebe could scarcely refrain from remarking upon it. After watchinghim closely, she decided that the night had effected one of those greatchanges sometimes observable in men after a crisis. He had turned overa new leaf.
Without delay she put this to the test. "I suppose," she remarked,smiling pleasantly at her nephew, "that I may rely upon you for aten-pound subscription to the 'Friendly Friday Evenings for MothersSociety?'"
George was all attention at once. "Most certainly," he said. "I'm veryglad you mentioned it. A noble institution."
"I'm pleased to hear you say that," said his aunt. "You were not alwayson the Society's side, and I'm glad to find that your views havechanged."
George shook his head sorrowfully. "I'm afraid that I have not beenaltogether free from error," he faltered.
"Darling!" cried Mrs. Early, who foresaw a display of feeling, and wasapprehensive of trouble.
"No," said her husband, gravely, raising his right hand; "I have not.In the light of certain events--by the wisdom of a certain person nolonger with us, I see it. I have been wrong. I admit it."
"You have not been wrong, darling!" cried Mrs. Early, impulsively.
"Ellen," said Aunt Phoebe, in remonstrance, "I'm surprised at you. Iadmire the spirit that prompts your husband to make these confessions.Please do not interrupt."
"I have told lies," said George, penitently.
Mrs. Early frowned and sighed.
"I have drunk whisky, and acquired habits that made my presenceobnoxious to the fair creatures, both youthful and aged--I meanexperienced--with whom good fortune placed me."
Aunt Phoebe coughed.
"There are many things," said George, looking at the ceiling, "that Iwould not have done had I known all I know now." Observing that AuntPhoebe's eyes were on the tablecloth, he winked at the fireplace."But I hope that it is not too late to make amends."
"There is still time," said his aunt, fervently, "to repent and lead abetter life."
"It is that which makes me glad," said George.
Having generously paid the ten-pound subscription and left behind himan impression of wholesome righteousness, Mr. Early stepped into ahansom cab and drove to Upper Thames Street.
Here his calm demeanour and amiability, contrasted with thefeverishness of the last few days, caused a general raising ofeyebrows. To the head clerk, who humbly apologized for his stupidityGeorge was gentleness itself. Instead of rating him he sympathized; sothat Parrott, who imagined that he had at last got a fair inkling ofGeorge Early's character, went away more mystified than ever.
The other ex-legatees received the news with surprise and someapprehension. Doubtless they had stored away in their minds variousplans for enriching themselves at their master's expense, intending toprofit by their own experience. Gray certainly had, and the rumours didnot prevent his putting one into execution very promptly. He appearedin the chief's office an hour after that gentleman arrived.
He received a cheerful welcome, to which he responded.
"I suppose you know my errand," he said, smiling maliciously, andrubbing his hands together.
His master looked up, thought a moment, and regretted that he could notcall to mind anything important concerning himself and Gray. Butwhatever it was, he promised that it should receive his attention.
"It's a question of money," said Gray. "A little loan of five pounds tobegin with. I suppose I need not use any arguments in favour of mycase; you already understand the business well."
"Dear me!" said George; "I hope no misfortune has befallen you, Gray,that you need this money. You did quite right to come to me. You shallcertainly have it."
"Thanks," said Gray.
"I always prefer to have my men come straight to me. Some people maythink me hard, but I tell you, Gray, I can't bear to feel that any ofmy employes are uncomfortable or in want."
"Glad to hear it."
"Yes, Gray, you shall certainly have the loan. It is not convenient togive it you at once, but you shall have it."
"Oh," said Gray, rubbing his chin; "I'd prefer to have it now."
"That's very unfortunate," said George; "I hate to inconvenienceanybody. It quite grieves me."
"I dare say it does," Gray said sarcastically. "Perhaps you can tell mewhen I'll get it."
"That I can," replied his master, cheerfully; "the moment I have themoney here for you I'll ring the bell and give it you."
Gray drew himself up and folded his arms. "I take that to be arefusal," he said bluntly. "And I must point out to you theconsequences to yourself if I mention it in the right quarter. Now,what's it to be?"
"It's to be five pounds when I ring the bell."
"And suppose I refuse to wait your pleasure?--as I don't see why Ishould."
"You must do it or go without," replied his master. "I may as wellmention, Gray, that I have decided to get rid of those men whom I findto have bad habits. Recognizing myself the principles of truth andtemperance, I could not keep men with so little respect for themselvesand the good name of a firm like this as to be addicted to the vices."
"I don't see how that will help you," Gray pointed out. "If I am notreceiving wages here, I shall be more in need of money than ever, and Ishould have to make my demands greater. So by sacking me you won't bedoing yourself any good."
George waved his hand. "The interview is now closed," he said.
Gray departed, but reminded his chief that he should expect to hear thebell ring before the day was out.
No other incident occurred, and George Early began to persuade himselfthat his new plans would act admirably. His ingenious handling of Graymust have acted as a damper on the others. Elated with this success,his behaviour at home that evening was even more commendable than inthe morning, and he fell to eulogizing Old Fairbrother with an emphasisthat seemed a little unwarranted, even to Aunt Phoebe.
Gray made another application the next morning for his loan, andrepeated it before midday, each time being quietly but firmly put offby his master.
"All I hope is," said Gray, on the last occasion, "that you won't forceme to do anything unpleasant. I'm not sure that this delay doesn'tamount to a refusal. Perhaps I ought to consult the solicitors."
But he didn't do so, and George Early began to make his way about theiron warehouse with more confidence than he had done since the legaciesfirst began to threaten him.
As he stepped out of the showrooms into the warehouse that afternoon, aman who had been hovering mysteriously about a gas stove turned towardshim.
"Anybody about?" he said, inquiringly.
"What can I do for you?" asked George, in his best salesman style.
"Want a gas stove," said the man. "I've heard a lot about your 'LittleWonder,' and I'd like to have one, if it's up to the mark."
"That's the very stove," said George, pointing to the one the man hadbeen handling.
"So I see, and if all you say of it is true, that's just the stove forme. But is it?"
"Is what?"
"Is that true?" said the man, holding up a Fairbrother pamphlet, inwhich the merits of the particular stove were described in glowingterms.
George suddenly realized that he was in a difficult situation, but,with the Fairbrother legacy fresh upon him, he stuck to his principles.
"All lies," he said.
"What?" cried the man; "it won't cook a chicken and a joint of beef,two vegetables and a pudding, and air the clothes at the same time, allat the cost of a farthing?"
"No," said George.
"All bunkum, eh?"
"Not a word of truth in it."
"I'm glad you told me that," said the man. "I like people to bestraightforward. Perhaps the 'Little Midget' that's made by Oldboys upthe street, is a better stove, eh?"
"Much better," said the unfortunate salesman.
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p; "Well, now," said the man, "I wanted a few other things, but I'm notsure about dealing here, after what you've said. See that set of brokenstove bars; how soon would you promise to get me a new set like it?"
"In four days," said George.
"Four days, eh? And when should I get 'em if I ordered them to-day?"
"In about two weeks."
"Oh, that's the sort of promise you make, is it? Can't be trusted?"
"Never," said George.
Then the man, who seemed to have suddenly developed an insatiablecuriosity, led George Early into discussing all sorts of affairsconcerning the firm, and obtained from him the most startlingadmissions.
He was an insinuating little man, and he resisted every effort that hisvictim made to end the conversation, until the head of Fairbrothersfound himself uttering the most alarming truths, and being led like amonkey on a string.
Eventually the man left, and George Early found himself sitting on aportable copper by one of the warehouse doors overlooking the river,gazing blankly at the rising mists. Gradually he came back to arealization of affairs, and began to discover that he had made a foolof himself. With the same discovery came the sounds of cautiousfootsteps; a voice that he recognized as belonging to Gray said, "It'sall right," and asked, "Where's Polly?"
The head of the firm left his position on the copper, and stood in theshadow of one of the iron fireproof doors. Any conspiracy taking placein the building was his affair without doubt.
Another person having joined the conspirators, George listened withinterest.
"Any luck?" asked Busby.
"None," answered Gray. "He's put me off so far, and I thought it bestto let it go at that for the present. I don't know how to force hishand. We must come to some decision about what we are going to do whilethere's the chance."
"Not so loud," cautioned Busby, lowering his voice; "you don't know whomay be about."
"There's nobody up here," said Gray, irritably, but the two loweredtheir voices, so that George Early could only catch a word here andthere.
The caution was relaxed after a while, when Gray said--
"Then that's fixed up. I'll tackle him tomorrow, and let him see thatwe mean business. Won't little Georgie swear! We'll have a hundred eachdown to begin with; no paltry fivers."
George shivered.
"Two hundred," said Parrott, greedily.
"One'll do to start," said Gray. "That'll be only a mite to what we'llget later."
"Will he pay up, d'you think?" asked Busby.
"Pay?" said Gray. "He can't help it. Look what he's got to lose if hedon't pay; he's had his turn, and now we'll have ours."
Judging by Gray's tone, George felt convinced that he meant all hesaid. He was not sure now that he had been quite wise in having laughedso much at Gray's expense.
"Suppose he dodges us, and doesn't turn up at the office?"
Gray laughed. "We'll go to his house," he said; "that'll be tit fortat. We'll get a bit of our own back."
George listened to the retreating footsteps, and a fierce indignationsprang up within him. So violent was it that he daren't come out fromthe shadow of the iron door until it had abated somewhat. Then hecautiously made his way back to his own room, put on his hat, and wenthome.