My Friend Smith Part 86

Hawkesbury smiled incredulously.

"All I can say is," said he, "I hope you are not in the habit of coming in here when you are by yourselves in the office. But kindly leave me now--I am busy."

He had a lot of papers spread out on the table before him, which he was gathering together in his hand while he spoke. Whether they were accounts, or letters, or what, we could not tell; but as there was nothing more to be said we withdrew to the counting-house. He followed us out in about five minutes, carrying the papers to his desk. Then, informing the housekeeper in an audible voice that he would just go and get breakfast, he left us to ourselves.

"What a mercy," said I, "he doesn't seem to have heard what we were talking about!"

Jack smiled bitterly.

"Unless I'm mistaken, he's heard every word!"

"Surely, Jack," I exclaimed, stunned by the very idea, "you don't mean that?"

"I'm sure of it."

Our feelings during the remainder of that day may be more easily imagined than expressed. If there was one person in the world more than another we would have wished not to hear what had been said, it was Hawkesbury. Thanks to my folly and meanness, he had known far too much as it was, before, and trouble had fallen on Jack in consequence. Now, if Jack's surmise was true, to what use might he not put the knowledge just obtained?

No one quite understood Hawkesbury. But I knew enough of him to see that jealousy of my friend Smith mixed up with all the motives for his conduct at Hawk Street. His tone of superiority, his favouring one clerk above another, his efforts to a.s.sert his influence over me had all been part of a purpose to triumph over Jack Smith. And yet, in spite of it all, Jack had held on his way, rising meanwhile daily in favour and confidence with his employers, and even with some of his formerly hostile fellow-clerks.

But now, with this new secret in his hand, Hawkesbury once more had my friend in his power, and how he would use it there was no knowing.

All that day he was particularly bland and condescending in his manner to me, and particularly pompous and exacting in his manner to Jack, and this, more than anything else, convinced me the latter was right in his suspicion.

Our discussion as we walked home that night was dismal enough. The brighter prospects which had seemed to dawn on Jack and his father appeared somehow suddenly clouded, and a sense of trouble hung over both our minds.

"One thing is certain," said Jack, "I must tell the partners everything now."

"Perhaps you are right--if there is any chance of his telling them. But he could surely hardly act so shamefully."

"It may be too late, even now," said Jack. "You know, when I was taken on at Hawk Street, and they asked me about my father, I said simply he was abroad. I've thought since it was hardly straightforward, and yet it didn't seem necessary to tell them all about it."

"Certainly not. Why should your prospects be ruined because your father--"

"Because my father," said Jack, taking me up quietly, "had lost his?

That's what I thought. But perhaps they will think differently. At any rate, I will tell them."

"If you do," said I, "and they take it kindly, as I expect they will, I don't see what more harm he can do you."

"Unless," said Jack, "he thinks it his duty to tell the proprietors of the _Banner_."

"What possible good could that do him?" I asked.

"Why, he might as well think it his duty to tell Mary."

Jack said nothing, and we walked on, very uneasy and depressed.

When we arrived at our lodgings we found Billy, whose recovery was now almost complete, sitting up in the bed with a jubilant face.

"You're a-done it, governor," cried he, as we entered. "You are a-done it."

"Done what?" said Jack.

"Why, that there sam."

"What about it?" we cried, eagerly.

"Oh, that there flashy bloke, Flanikin, 'e comes up, and says 'e, `Jack Smith in?' says he--meanin' you, governor. `Ain't no concern of yourn,'

says I--not 'olding with them animals as comes to see yer. `Yes it is,'

says 'e, a blowin' with the run he'd 'ad. `Tell 'im the moment 'e comes in that 'e's fust in the sam,' says he."

"Hurrah!" I cried, forgetting everything in this good news. "Old man, how splendid!"

Jack too for a moment relaxed his grave face as he answered my greeting.

"I can hardly believe it," said he.

"Oh, there ain't no error, so I tells you," cried Billy, "the cove 'ad been up to the shop, he says, and copied it down. He was nigh off 'is 'ead, was that there Flanikin, and 'e's a-comin' in to see you 'imself, he says, afore eight o'clock."

And before eight Flanagan turned up and confirmed the glorious news with a printed list, in which sure enough "Smith" stood out distinctly in the first place.

"You know, I thought it might be another Smith," said Flanagan, laughing; "there are one or two of the same name in the world, I know.

But there's not another in the list, so it's all right. I say, wouldn't old Henniker be proud of you now, my boy--eh, Fred? She'd let you sneeze without pulling you up for it, I do believe."

A letter by the evening post to Jack brought the official confirmation of the news from the examiners, and announced further that the distinction carried with it a scholarship worth 50 a year for three years.

In the midst of our jubilation, Mr Smith came in, and that evening, but for the morning's cloud which still hung over us, our happiness would have been complete.

The next day Jack took an early opportunity of seeking an interview with the partners, and making a clean breast to them of his birth and position. He gave me an account of the interview afterwards, and said that while Mr Merrett, as usual, took everything kindly and even sympathetically, Mr Barnacle was disposed to regard Jack's representation of himself on first coming to the office as not candid, and so blameworthy. However, they both agreed that he had done the proper thing in speaking out now, and willingly agreed to let him take his holiday at the time proposed, so as to accompany his father to Packworth.

So a great weight was taken off our minds, and the consciousness that now nothing remained concealed from our employers enabled us to bear Hawkesbury's lofty manner with comparative indifference.

I even yet had my doubts whether he could really have overheard our talk that morning. Nothing certainly that he said or did gave colour to the suspicion; only his almost deferential manner to me, and his almost scornful manner to Jack, seemed to hint that it might be so.

Jack's opinion, however, on the point was unshaken.

An uneventful fortnight pa.s.sed. Billy was up again and back at his work as usual, except that he was strictly forbidden to walk about on his hands any more--a terrible hardship for the lad.

The first half-year's cheque of Jack's scholarship had come, and had been proudly deposited in the bank, as a nucleus of a fund in which father, son, and daughter were some day to partic.i.p.ate.

And now the long-looked-for time had arrived when Jack and his father were to pay their promised visit to Packworth. I had seen them both half rejoicing in, half dreading the prospect; and now that I saw them actually start, I scarcely knew whether most to pity or envy them.

It was a lonely evening for me, the evening after I had seem them off.

They had promised to write and tell me how they fared; but meanwhile I felt very desolate. Even Billy's company failed altogether to raise my spirits.

However, as it happened, that youth had some news to give me which at any rate tended to divert my mind for a time from my bereaved condition.

"I seen that Mashing agin," he said, abruptly.

"Did you? Where?"