The Story of Antony Grace Part 41

"Yes; I believe so."

"And the great clumsy machines print six or seven hundred an hour. Some a thousand."

"And will your machine do more?" I asked.

"Antony," he cried, catching my arm in his--and his face lit up as we stood by that attic window--"if my machine succeeds it will be the greatest invention of the age. Look, boy; do you see what I mean to do?"

"N-no," I said; "not yet."

"No; of course not," he cried. "It has been the work of years to think it out, and you cannot grasp it yet. It has grown month by month, my boy, till it has a.s.sumed so great a magnitude that I shrink at times, half crushed by my own offspring. There seems to be too much--that I attempt to climb too high--and when I give up almost in despair it lures me on--beckons me in my dreams, and points to the success that might be achieved."

I looked at him wonderingly; he seemed to be so transformed.

"I began with quite a small idea, Antony," he continued. "I will show you. My idea was this. You see now, my boy, that with the present machine the type is laid on a table, and it goes backwards and forwards under a great iron cylinder or roller, grinding continually, and being worn out."

"Yes, I know; the type gets thick and blurred in its fine upstrokes."

"Exactly," he said, smiling. "Well, Antony, I tried to invent a simple process of making a mould or seal, when the type was ready, and then--"

"Making a solid block of fresh type in the big mould. I know," I cried.

"Right, my boy, right," he cried; "and I have done it!"

"But does it want a machine like that?"

"Oh no," he replied: "that grew out of the idea. I was not satisfied then with my solid block of type, which might be used and then melted down again. It struck me, Antony, that it would be better if I made that solid block curved, so as to fit on a big cylinder, and let it go round instead of the paper. I could then print twice as many."

"Ye-yes," I said, "but I hardly see it."

"I will show you presently, my boy," he replied. "Well, I worked at that idea till I felt satisfied that I could carry it out, when a greater idea came."

He paused and wiped his forehead, gazing now, though, out at the starry night, and speaking in a low earnest voice.

"It seemed to me then, Antony, that I ought to do away with the simple, clumsy plan of making men or boys supply or lay-on paper, sheet by sheets as the machine was at work."

"What could you do?" I said.

"Ah, that was the question. I was thinking it over, when going through Saint Paul's Churchyard I saw in one of the draper's shops a basket of rolls of ribbon, and the thing was done."

"How?" I asked.

"By having the paper in a long roll, a thousand yards upon a reel, to be cut off sheet by sheet as it is printed between the cylinders."

"But could you get paper made so long?"

"To be sure," he said; "the paper-mills make it in long strips that are cut up in sheets as they are finished. In my machine they would be cut up only when printed. Now, what do you say?"

"It's like trying to read Greek the first time, Mr Hallett," I said.

"My head feels all in a muddle."

"Out of which the light will come in time, my boy. But suppose I could make such a machine, Antony, what would you say then?"

"It would be grand!" I exclaimed.

"It would make a revolution in printing," he cried enthusiastically.

"Well, will you help me, Antony?" he said, with a smile.

"Help you! May I?"

"Of course. I shall be glad; only, remember, it is our secret."

"You may trust me," I said. "But it must be patented."

"To be sure. All in good time."

"It will make your fortune."

"I hope so," he said dreamily, "For others' sake more than mine."

"Yes," I cried; "and then you could have a nice place and a carriage for Mrs Hallett, and it would make her so much happier."

"Yes," he said, with a sigh.

"And you could be a gentleman again."

He started, and a curious look came over his face; but it pa.s.sed away directly, and I saw him shake his head before turning to me with a smile.

"Antony," he said quietly, "suppose we build the machine, the castles in the air will build themselves. I tell you what; you shall work sometimes and help me to plan; but, as a rule, while I file and grind you shall read some Latin or German author, and you and I can improve ourselves as we go."

"Agreed!" I cried, and then the rest of the night was spent--a very short night, by the way--in examining the various parts of the little model, Hallett seeming to give himself fresh ideas for improvements as he explained the reason for each wheel and spindle, and told me of the difficulties he had to contend with for want of proper tools and the engineer's skill.

"I want a lathe, Antony," he said; "and a good lathe costs many pounds, so I have to botch and patch, and buy clock-wheels and file them down.

It takes me a whole evening sometimes wandering about Clerkenwell or the New Cut hunting for what I want."

"But I can often help you in that way," I said, "and I will."

We went down soon after to a late supper, Hallett jealously locking up his attic before we descended. Mrs Hallett had gone to bed and Linny was reading, and jumped up as if startled at our entrance.

Hallett spoke to her as we sat down to supper, and I noticed that he seemed to be cold and stern towards her, while Linny was excited and pettish, seeming to resent her brother's ways, and talked to me in a light, pleasant, bantering manner about Bluebeard's secret chamber.

I noticed, too, that she always avoided her brother's eye, and when we parted that night Hallett seemed a good deal troubled, though he did not tell me why.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

SEVEN-AND-A-HALF AND A BONUS.

It was the common talk at the office that Mr Lister was going to be married soon to the rich Miss Carr; and one day, when I was busily reading to Mr Jabez Rowle--who, snuff-box before him, kept drawing in his breath, hissing viciously, and sometimes smacking his lips as he dug his pen into some blunder in the slips before him--Mr Grimstone came bustling in, with his spectacles shining as much as his bald head, his scanty hair standing straight up, and, what was very rarely the case, a smile upon his face.