A Life For a Love Part 33

A serious accident. To whom? About whom? What a fool that Jellyby was not to have given him more particulars. Why did that part of the cablegram fill him with consternation? Why should he feel so certain that the accident in question referred to his son-in-law? Well, he must wait over a month for news, and during that month he must collect together eighty thousand pounds. Surely he had enough to think of. Why should his thoughts revert to Wyndham with an ever-increasing dread?

"Wyndham is safe enough," he said. "Jolly enough, too, I make no doubt.

His money waits for him at Ballarat. Of course bad news will come, but _I_ shall see through it. Oh, yes, _I_ shall see through it fast enough."

Days of suspense are hard days--long and weary days. As these days crept one by one away Mr. Paget became by no means an easy person to live with. His temper grew morose, he was irritable, manifestly ill at ease, and he would often for hours scarcely utter a word.

The 17th of July pa.s.sed. Mr. Carmichael again called for his money. A part was paid to him, the balance the head of the great shipping firm a.s.sured the young man could not possibly be forthcoming for another month or six weeks.

"I am sorry," Mr. Paget said, "extremely sorry not to be able to fulfil my word to the letter. But I must have time to realize such a large sum, and I greatly fear I must claim it."

Mr. Carmichael had a cheque in his hand for ten thousand pounds. He could scarcely feel discontented at such a moment, and took his departure grumbling but elated.

"Helps," said Mr. Paget, "I have taken that ten thousand pounds out of the business, and it can ill afford to lose it. If news does not come soon we are undone, and all our plotting and planning won't save the old place nor the honor of the old house."

"No fear," muttered Helps. "The news will come. I have bad dreams at night. The house will be saved. Don't you fret, Mr. Paget."

He went out of the room looking as morose and ugly as possible, and Mortimer Paget hurled no blessings after him.

The next day was fraught with tidings. A thick packet lay on the chief's desk, bearing the imprint of the _Esperance_ on it. By the side of the packet was a telegram. He opened the telegram first:--

Jewsbury-on-the-Wold, 10 a.m.

"Valentine had a son this morning. Both doing well."

The tears absolutely sprang to Mr. Paget's eyes. His hands trembled; he looked round furtively; there was no one by. Then he raised the telegram to his lips and kissed it. Valentine had a son--he had a grandson. Another head of the old house had arisen on the horizon.

He rang his electric bell; he was so excited that he could not keep these tidings to himself.

"I have sent for you to receive your congratulations, Helps," he said; "and--and here's a cheque for ten pounds. You must go home early and have a good supper--champagne and all that sort of thing. Not a word, Helps, my good fellow, you deserve it. You quite deserve it!"

"May I ask what for, Mr. Paget? Forgive me, sir. I see that the packet from the _Esperance_ has come."

"So it has. It can wait. Take your money, Helps, and drink my grandson's health. He arrived this morning, bless him--my daughter had a son this morning."

"Indeed, sir. It's a pity the father isn't there. It would have been pretty to have seen Mr. Wyndham as a father. Yes, sir. I'm glad your young lady is doing well. Babes come with trouble, and it seems to me they mostly go with trouble. All the same, we make a fuss of them--and the world's too full as it is."

"This child supplies a long felt need," replied the baby's grandfather, frowning. "He is the future head of the house."

"Poor innocent. Yes, sir, I congratulate you as in duty bound. You'll soon read that packet, won't you, sir. It seems a sort of a coincidence like, getting news of the father and the babe in one breath."

"I'll read the packet presently," said Mr. Paget. "Go away now, Helps; don't disturb me."

Left alone, the pleased man spread out the pink sheet of paper in such a position that his eye could constantly rest on it. Then he broke the seal of Captain Jellyby's yarn, and began to read.

CHAPTER x.x.xV.

_Esperance_, April 10.

"MY DEAR SIR,--

"I begin a letter to you under peculiarly afflicting circ.u.mstances.

Your son-in-law, the favorite of every one on board, one of the nicest young gentlemen I have had the luck to meet, fell overboard last night, between nine and ten o'clock, when a very heavy sea was running. He was standing at the wheel, talking to a sailor of the name of Loggan. Loggan said he was very cheerful and keen to watch the storm. He was helping to tighten up a bit of rope when the boat gave a lurch. Loggan shouted to him to take care, but he was taken off his feet, and the next moment was in the water. We put out the boats and did all in our power, but in addition to the storm the night was very dark, and we never saw nor heard anything more of the unfortunate young gentleman. The night was so rough he must have gone to the bottom almost directly. I cannot express to you, sir, what a gloom this has cast upon all on board. As I said already, your son-in-law was beloved by pa.s.sengers and sailors alike. His death was due to the most ordinary accident.

"Well, sir, regrets are useless, but if regrets would bring Mr.

Wyndham back, he would be safe and well now; he was one of the most taking young men I ever came across, and also one of the best.

Please give my respectful condolences to his poor young widow----"

Here there was a break in the narrative. It was taken up some days later.

"I had scarcely written the last when an awful thing happened.

There was a fearful crash on board, and in short, sir, our funnel was blown down. I can scarcely go into particulars now, but for many days we lay at the mercy of the waves, and I never thought to see land any more. It speaks well for the worthiness of the _Esperance_ that she weathered such a gale. But for many days and nights the destruction to your property, for the water poured in in all parts, and the miserable state of the pa.s.sengers, baffles description. The ship was in such a condition that we could not use steam, and when the storm abated had to drift as best we could.

For our main masts were also broken, and we could put on scarcely any sail. Our provisions were also becoming short.

"A week ago, by the mercy of G.o.d, we came within hail of the steamer _Salamanca_, which towed us into port, and the _Esperance_ has been put into dock at Melbourne for repairs.

"Under these appalling circ.u.mstances, Mr. Wyndham's loss has not been forgotten, but to a certain extent cast on one side. Perhaps I ought to say here; sir, that when your son-in-law commenced his voyage to Sydney under my auspices, he appeared to be in such a state of agitation, and in such distress of mind, that I feared for his brain, and wondered if you had sent him on this voyage by a doctor's orders. He made also a request to me which seemed to confirm this view. He begged me not to let out to anyone on board the smallest particulars (I really did not know any) of his history. In especial he did not wish his wife spoken of. He looked strange when he made these requests, and even now I can see the despair in his eyes when I refused--you will remember, sir, by your express desire--to touch at Plymouth. I may as well say frankly, that had Mr. Wyndham continued as depressed as he was the first few days of the voyage, I should have scarcely considered his untimely end altogether due to accident. But I am happy to be able to rea.s.sure your mind on that point. That he felt the separation from his wife terribly at first there is no doubt, but there is also no doubt that he got over this feeling, that he was healthily happy, and altogether the brightest fellow on board. In short, sir, he was the life of the ship; even now we are never done lamenting him.

Untimely as his fate was, no one could have been more ready to rush suddenly into the presence of his Maker. I enclose with this a formal certificate of Mr. Wyndham's death, with the lat.i.tude and longitude of the exact spot where he must have gone down accurately described. This certificate is duly attested by the Consul here, and I delayed one day in writing to you in order that it should go.

"I remain, sir,

"Yours respectfully,

"HARRY JELLYBY."

"P.S.--I forgot to mention that two of our boats have been absolutely lost; but I will send you a full list of casualties by next mail."

Helps had never felt more restless than he did that morning; he could not attend to his ordinary avocations. Truth to tell, Helps' position in the house of Paget Brothers had always been more or less a dubious one. It was patent to all that he was confided in to a remarkable degree by the head of the house. It was also observed that he had no special or defined post. In short that he did a little of everybody's work, and seemed to have nothing absolutely depending on himself.

All the same, when Helps was away the whole establishment felt a loss.

If the old clerk was useful for no other purpose, he was at least valuable as a scape-goat. He could bear blame which belonged to others.

It was convenient to make excuses, and to shift uncomfortable omissions of all sorts from one's own shoulders.

"Oh, I thought Helps would have seen to that."

Helps saw to a great deal, and was perfectly indifferent to these inuendoes. Of one thing he was certain, that they would never reach the chief's ears.

On this particular morning Helps would a.s.sist no one; he had ten pounds in his pocket, and he knew that the future owner of the great business lay in his cradle at Jewsbury-on-the-Wold. Little cared he for that.

"What news of Mr. Wyndham?" This was his thought of thoughts. "What secret lies hidden within that sealed packet? What is my master doing now? When will he ring for me? How soon shall I know the best and the worst? Oh, G.o.d, why did I let that young man go? Why didn't I split?

What's prison, after all? My G.o.d, what _is_ prison compared to a heart on fire!"

Helps pottered about. He was a very wizened grey little fellow. The clerks found him decidedly in the way. They muttered to one another about him, and Mr. Manners, one of the juniors, requested him in a very cutting voice to shut the door and go away.