My Friend Smith Part 70

He laughed as if it was a joke.

"I'm sure you do; but as I knew you couldn't do it, I thought it would be a relief to you if I did it for you."

Could he be in earnest? He talked as if I ought to be grateful to him instead of in a rage, as I was. Certainly it was a queer position to be in--storming at a fellow who has just saved you from debt, perhaps disgrace, possibly ruin, I _couldn't_ make out what to think of it.

"I daresay you thought you were doing me a good turn," I said as civilly as I could, "but as it happens I wish you had let the thing alone."

He sighed forgivingly and went to his desk.

The moment Jack and I got outside at dinner-time I unburdened my woes to him.

He was in as great if not a greater commotion than I was.

"What does he mean by it?" he exclaimed. "Fred, you must pay him back at once, whatever it costs you!"

"All very well," said I, "but you know I've nothing."

"Can't you p.a.w.n anything? can't you get a job of some sort to do?

anything to pay him off. I shall be miserable as long as you owe him a farthing!"

He spoke with a vehemence that quite astonished me.--"You don't mean to say you're going to let yourself stop in his debt?" he exclaimed, when I did not answer.

"Not a second after I can get the money."

"When will you hear from your uncle?"

"To-morrow morning if he writes by return. But I've no hopes from him."

"I suppose it would not do to ask the partners," said Jack.

I was thunderstruck at the very idea. For Jack to entertain it for a moment only showed how desperately in earnest he was.

We could get no light on the subject, and I had the pleasure of being reminded by Hawkesbury's smile all day long that I was in his power, and saw no way out.

That whole evening Jack and I sat and discussed the situation. We even rose early, to consult Mr Smith the elder on his return to the lodgings. He soon appreciated our difficulty; but he could suggest no relief. For he was as poor as either of us, and had as few friends.

My uncle's letter did not come that day or the next.

Meanwhile I knew no peace. Hawkesbury's manner was more suave and condescending than ever.

To the rest of my fellow-clerks during those two days I was the most cross-grained and obnoxious comrade conceivable. My only relief seemed to be in quarrelling with somebody, and as they all laid themselves out to bait and tease me one way or another I had a pretty lively time of it.

My chief hope was (and Jack shared in it), that if my uncle had been determined not to help me at all he would probably have written by return. The delay might mean he was at least considering the matter.

At last, on the third day of my waiting, the postman knocked at our door. With beating heart I rushed to receive the letter which I knew must be for me.

It was, but it was not from my uncle, it was from Hawkesbury.

"My Dear Batchelor," he wrote, "I am very sorry to see that I have given you offence by settling your debt with Wallop. I really meant it for the best, because I knew you could not pay, and I was afraid if it came to my uncle's or Mr Barnacle's knowledge it might be awkward for you, for I happen to know my uncle feels very strongly about clerks getting into debt, especially through gambling. I'm afraid I can't undo what has been done, for Wallop will hardly give me back the money. So I write to tell you how sorry I am, and to say I hope you will forgive me.

Please do not trouble about the repayment of the loan; you must take whatever time suits you. I trust this little matter will not make us worse friends than before.

"Yours sincerely,--

"E. Hawkesbury.

"P.S.--I write this as I shall be away from the office the next two days, while we are moving to our new house. When we are settled in I hope you will come and see us."

What was I to think of it? For the last three days I had been losing no opportunity of snubbing this fellow, and to demonstrate to him that, so far from feeling obliged to him, I disliked him all the more for what he had done. In return for which he now writes me this beautiful letter, breathing forgiveness and considerateness, and absolutely apologising for having paid thirty s.h.i.+llings to save me from ruin!

Either he must be a paragon of the first water, or else--

I gave it up, and handed the letter across to Jack Smith. He read it, with knit brows, from beginning to end, and then a second time; after which he tossed it back to me and said, "Well, what do you think of that?"

"What do you?"

"Rot, every bit of it!"

I expected he would say so. "But, Jack," I began.

"You don't mean to say," said Jack, "you're going to let yourself be taken in by that stuff?"

"But unless he means what he says, what possible motive can he have for writing a letter like that?"

Jack did not answer. We did not discuss the matter further, but I went down to the office that morning with the letter in my pocket, heartily wis.h.i.+ng I could make up my mind what to think of it all as easily as Jack Smith.

One thing, at any rate, was a comfort--I should not see Hawkesbury for two days.

But if I was to be spared the sight of one unwelcome person, I had in store for me another which I little expected. I was coming with Jack out of the office on the second evening afterwards, after a hard day's work, wondering why my uncle did not write, and sighing inwardly at the prospect of seeing Hawkesbury back next day, when a stranger accosted me in the street.

At least, I thought him a stranger until, standing full in front of him, I saw his face and heard him speak.

"Oh, good evening, Mr Batchelor, sir! The governor's compliments, sir--Mr Shoddy's compliments--and he'll be particularly glad if you'll step round now, sir."

I owed Shoddy three pounds, and this summons fell on my ear like a knell.

"Better go," said Jack.

How sick Jack must be of me, thought I, by this time. Ever since I had been back with him he had been for ever worried either with my health or my debts or my office rows. I was half tempted to ask him not to come, but I could not bring myself to be sufficiently self-denying.

"What does Mr Shoddy want me for?" I asked of the a.s.sistant as we walked along.

"I believe, sir, between ourselves, it's about your little account, sir.

How do the clothes wear, sir? Nice stuff that tweed we made them of.

Could do you a very nice suit of the same now, sir, dirt cheap. Two fifteen to you, and measure the coat. We should charge three guineas to any one else."

It occurred to me to wonder why so great exception should be made in my favour, especially as I had owed my present bill so long. However, we let the fellow rattle on at his shoppy talk, and soon arrived at Mr Shoddy's ready-made clothes establishment.

I felt rather like a criminal being brought up before a judge than a customer before the tailor of his patronage.