STORY THREE, CHAPTER TWO.
UNDER TEMPTATION.
There is, and there always was, about Walbrook something of anexasperating nature. I don't care whether you journey upon wheels, orby means of your nature-given supports, you shall always find anobstruction. The pathways are as narrow and awkward as the road; andwhile there is always a perky, impudent-looking, heavily-laden truck,with its handle either cocked up in defiance, or pointed downinsultingly, as it obstructs the horse-drawn traffic, there is sure tobe some one carrying a box of stationery, or a bale of paper-hangings,or something or another with hard, harsh corners, to come in contactwith your front or your back, to injure your hat, or tear your coat witha ragged nail, or jostle you off into the gutter. It don't matter whenyou go down Walbrook, passing by the sombre Mansion House, and seekingto be at peace in the quiet shades of Budge-row, or Watling, you shallcertainly have your feathers ruffled, mentally of course; therefore, itwas not surprising that Frank Marr, a sturdy young fellow of goodlyaspect, and some eight-and-twenty years, should look angry and frowningas he sought the house of old John Richards.
Not that it was at all surprising for people either going to or comingfrom John Richards' office to look lowering of brow, for interviews withthat gentleman were none of the most pleasant; they had too much to dowith interest, and renewing, and bill stamps, and too little to do withhard cash--unless it were for repayments--to be gratifying to any one.
But Frank Marr's business, as he thought, did not relate to money; andwithout hanging about the passage in the hope of catching sight of MayRichards, his old playmate and boyhood's love, he asked to be, andwas shown at once into the presence of old JohnRichards,--"Grab-all,"--"Grind-'em,"--"Screw-bones,"--"Publican,"--forby all these pleasant sobriquets was the money-lender known.
But Frank Marr, merchant, who had just passed through the BankruptcyCourt, after five years' hard struggle with unforeseen difficulties, andpaid ten shillings in the pound, after all the expenses had come out ofhis estate--Frank Marr knew that he had chosen a bad morning for hisvisit. John Richards' enemy had him by the leg; and swathed andbandaged, suffering terribly from gout, but transacting business all thesame, as many a trembling client knew to his cost, he sat with a curioussmile upon his face as the young man entered.
"Now for a fierce volley of rage and curses," thought Frank; "he shallhear me, though, all the same!" But to his great surprise the old mangreeted him most civilly.
"Well, Mr Marr, what's in the wind, eh? Little accommodation bill, eh?Whose names?"
"No, Mr Richards," said Frank, dashing at once into the subject nearesthis heart, "I have not come about money."
"Indeed!" said the money-lender, grinning with pain, but still speakingsuavely. "Pray what is it, then?"
"I have had news this morning, Mr Richards."
"Good, I hope. An opening, perhaps, for business?"
"No, sir! Bad news--vile news--cruel news!" cried the young manexcitedly.
"Sorry, very sorry," said Richards, quietly. "Pray what is it, then?"
"It is the news of slave-dealing in this city, sir," said Frank. "Of afather making a contract with a rich purchaser for the sale and deliveryof his only child, as if she were so much merchandise, and I come, oldman, to tell you to your face that it is cruel, and a scandal to ourcivilisation. But I beg pardon, Mr Richards; I am hot and excited. Iam deeply moved. You know I love May, that we have loved fromchildhood, and that we are promised to one another. Don't interrupt me,please."
"I'm not going to," said the old man, still quietly, to the other'sintense astonishment.
"I know what you would say to me if I were to advance my pretensionsnow. But look here, Mr Richards--I am young yet, May is young. I havebeen very unfortunate. I have had to buy experience, in spite of myendeavours, in a very dear school; but there is time for me to retrievemy position. I shall get on--I feel assured. For heaven's sake, then,let this cruel affair be set aside: give me a few years to recovermyself, and all will yet be well, I am sure. You will break her heartif you force her to marry this old man."
"Who told you of this?" said John Richards, still calmly.
"I cannot tell you," said Frank.
"Did May write to you?"
"No," said Frank warmly; "she promised you, sir, that she would not. I,too, promised you that while my affairs were in such a state I would nothold communication with her. We have kept our words, sir, even as weintend to keep those upon another point. I have neither spoken to norheard from May for months."
"Only gone to church to sit and stare at her," said John Richardsquietly.
"It were hard indeed, sir, if that poor gratification were not affordedme," said Frank. "But now, sir, pray hear me--pray listen to me. Thinkof the misery you would inflict."
"Stop now, and hear me," said the old money-lender quietly, though hislips quivered with pain. "Your name is Frank; now be frank with me.You are at the present time penniless, are you not?"
Frank had hard work to suppress a groan as he bowed his head and thoughtof how, had he been given time, he could have paid every creditor infull, and had to spare, instead of his poor assets being more than halfswallowed up in costs.
"You came here expecting a stormy interview, did you not?"
"I did!" said Frank.
"To be sure! and now I am going to show you that old Grab-all is not soblack a devil as he is painted."
"Good heavens, sir!" cried Frank joyfully.
"Stop a bit--stop a bit--don't be rash, young man; for perhaps I am notgoing to favour you in the way you may expect, though I do feel disposedto help you. Now look here: I suppose five hundred pounds would be agreat help to you just now?"
"It would start me in life again, sir," said Frank, sadly; "but I shouldnot feel justified in commencing upon borrowed capital at highinterest."
"Did I say a word about borrowed capital or high interest?"
"No, sir, but--"
"Yes, yes--of course--I know--old Grind-'em will have sixty per cent,they say, eh? But look here, suppose I were to _give_ you five hundredpounds to start with!"
"Give! give! Give me five hundred pounds in hard cash, sir! MrRichards, why do you play with my feelings?"
"Play, young man?" said the money-lender quietly. "I am not playing--Iam in earnest. I tell you that I will give you, now, this minute, fivehundred pounds. There," he said, "give me that cheque book," and hepointed to a safe in the wall. "I'll write you one now this instant;and with five hundred pounds you have the key to a fortune. You may dierich as I am, Frank Marr."
"But you have a condition: you wish to buy something with this fivehundred pounds, Mr Richards," said Frank sternly.
"I only want five minutes of your time," said the old man.
"What to do?"
"To write half a dozen lines at my dictation."
"And to whom?"
"To my daughter."
"Their purport?"
"That you break with her, and set her free, now and for ever."
"If I do," cried Frank fiercely, "may God in heaven bring down--"
"Stop, stop, you rash, mad fool!" cried the old man excitedly. "Lookhere, Frank Marr: you have not a penny; your mother is almost starving;you are living together in a beggarly second-floor room at atallow-chandler's. You see I know all! You are suffering the poor oldlady's murmurs day by day, and she reproaches you for wasting her littleall in your business. Look here: be a man, and not a love-sick boy.I'll be frank with you. Mr Brough has proposed, and I approve of himfor a son-in-law. He is elderly, but a better-hearted man does notexist; and you will have the satisfaction of knowing that May has goneto a good home; while you have the chance, and at once, of doing yourduty by your old mother. She wants change of air, Frank, and morenourishment. Five hundred pounds clear, Frank, to start with, and onyour obtaining one name, one respectable name, beside your own, I'lladvance you five hundred more--at five per cent, Frank, my good fellow--at five per cent.--a thing I
never before did in my life. I'll do it atonce, this very hour, and you can pay the cheque into a banker's, starta new account, and a prosperous one. There, I'll find you a name--youruncle, Benjamin Marr; I'll take him; he's a respectable man, and goodfor five hundred pounds. He'll do that for you. Now, my good lad, sitdown and accept my offer."
"Does the devil tempt men still in human form?" gasped Frank, as withveins starting he stood panting for breath before the old man.
"Pooh! nonsense! absurd! Now, how can you talk such silly book-trash,Frank Marr? I thought five years with me as clerk would have madeanother man of you. You ought never to have left me. Throw all thatfolly aside, and look the matter in the face like a man. Now you seehow calm and how lenient I am. I might play the tyrant, and say thatMay shall be Mr Brough's wife, and all that sort of thing; but I wantto spare everybody's feelings. I don't want any scenes. Come, now: yougive her up; you will write to her, eh?"
Frank Marr's voice was hoarse as he spoke; for he had felt the old man'swords burning as it were into his brain, as scene after scene presenteditself to his imagination. There on one side wealth, prosperity,comfort for the old and ailing woman whom he had, as he told himself, inan evil hour robbed of the comforts of her declining years; a newcareer, and the means to pay off that other ten shillings in the pound,so that he could once more hold up his head amongst his fellow-men. Onthe other side, the sweet, loving face of May Richards, whom he thoughthe loved as man never yet loved. He told himself that without amoment's hesitation he should defy the temptation to gain a hold; butfor all that he temporised, and John Richards saw it, and stretched outhis hand to take a pen.
"But you will give me time to recover myself?" said Frank.
"What for? I don't understand," said Richards.
"For May's sake," pleaded Frank.
"Stop! Not another word!" cried the old man, now speaking fiercely. "Itold her last night that I'd sooner see her dead than your wife. I tellyou the same. But I will not be angry, nor yet harsh--I was put outlast night. Now, once more look here: Five hundred pounds in cash--afree gift, mind--and five hundred more as an easy business loan,renewable year after year during my life, so long as the interest ispunctually paid. Nothing can be easier for you. Think now, to give upa boy's milk-and-water love I offer you what to a man in your presentposition is a fortune--a thousand pounds. And you will take it?"
Frank tried to speak, but he seemed to be choking.
"A thousand pounds, which means future prosperity--which means, as well,a score of rich and beautiful women to choose from."
Frank had not heard a door open behind them; he had not seen May, paleas ashes, standing motionless listening to every word; he could onlyhear the words of the tempter, and the scratch, scratch of a cruel pen,sharp as a needle, dipped apparently in some subtle venom, writing thewords _one thousand pounds_ on his heart at the same time as in thatlittle slip-book, while the poison was coursing through his veins,making them to beat and throb.
"One thousand pounds, John Richards; payable to Frank Marr, Esquire, orhis order," said the old man aloud, but as if speaking to himself; "andall for giving up a boy-and-girl love affair. Pish! I am getting intomy dotage. Look here, Mr Marr," he said, speaking up, "I only want youto write the few lines I dictate, and to get that name to the bill, andhere is the cheque ready. You'll get on, now, I feel sure," he said, incool, business-like tones, but watching his victim like a cat the while."Bought wit is better than taught wit. Shall I order you a gloss ofwine?"
"God help me!" groaned Frank Marr as, making an effort to speak, he toreat his throat for an instant, snatched at his hat, and then rushed outof the house.
"Expensive, but safe!" said John Richards, with a bitter smile, as hepinned the cheque to its duplicate. "What, you here?"
"Father!" cried May, coming forward and speaking in tones that shouldhave pierced even his heart, had it not been stony to the very core; "O,father, what have you done?"
"Spent hundreds of my hard-earned pounds to free you from a bankruptlover--a scoundrel whose every thought was on my cash, whose everycalculation was as to how many years I should be before I died; upon aman who had not the heart to stand up for you, who valued you at lessthan five hundred pounds; and yet you reproached me with wishing to sellyou to a rich husband, when he is a pure, sterling, true-hearted man,the only one I know that I could trust--a man you have known from achild, and one who has long loved you. Suppose he is grey-headed, whatthen? You can trust in his experience and--eh? What? Why? What thedeuce! talk of the--How are you, Brough? glad to see you. Got the goutawful this morning. Don't stop; I'm bothered and sick with pain. TakeMay up-stairs. My dear, give Mr Brough some lunch."
Then, in an undertone, he spoke to the new-comer:
"I've done it for you, Brough; smoothed the way, and the day's your own.Bought him off for five hundred."
"And has he taken it?" said the new-comer, a handsome, florid, elderlyman.
"As good as taken it. It's all right, I tell you. She knows it too.Go and comfort her up, Brough; comfort her up."
"Poor child, poor child," muttered Mr Brough, taking a cold stony handin his; and the tears rose to his eyes as he read in the despairing lookdirected at him the truth of the old money-lender's words. The nextminute he had led May Richards up-stairs and was seated by her on one ofthe sofas, gazing pityingly at her, for with her face covered by herhands the poor girl wept as though her heart would break.