CHAPTER III.
THOMAS GILRAY MAKES AN INVESTMENT.
The shambling little clerk was still standing at the door watching theretreating figure of the millionaire, and mentally splicing together hisfragmentary remarks into a symmetrical piece of advice which might becarried home and digested at leisure, when his attention was attractedto a pale-faced woman, with a child in her arms, who was hanging aboutthe entrance. She looked up at the clerk in a wistful way, as ifanxious to address him and yet afraid to do so. Then noting, perhaps,some gleam of kindness in his yellow wrinkled face, she came across tohim.
"D'ye think I could see Muster Girdlestone, sir," she asked, with acurtsey; "or, maybe, you're Mr. Girdlestone yourself?" The woman waswretchedly dressed, and her eyelids were swollen and red as from longcrying.
"Mr. Girdlestone is in his room," said the head clerk kindly. "I haveno doubt that he will see you if you will wait for a moment." Had hebeen speaking to the grandest of the be-silked and be-feathered dameswho occasionally frequented the office; he could not have spoken withgreater courtesy. Verily in these days the spirit of true chivalry hasfiltered down from the surface and has found a lodgment in strangeplaces.
The merchant looked with a surprised and suspicious eye at his visitorwhen she was ushered in. "Take a seat, my good woman," he said."What can I do for you?"
"Please, Mr. Girdlestone, I'm Mrs. Hudson," she answered, seatingherself in a timid way upon the extreme edge of a chair. She was wearyand footsore, for she had carried the baby up from Stepney that morning.
"Hudson--Hudson--can't remember the name," said Girdlestone, shaking hishead reflectively.
"Jim Hudson as was, sir, he was my husband, the bo'sun for many a yearo' your ship the _Black Eagle_. He went out to try and earn a bit forme and the child, sir, but he's dead o' fever, poor dear, and lying inBonny river, wi' a cannon ball at his feet, as the carpenter himselftold me who sewed him up, and I wish I was dead and with him, so I do."She began sobbing in her shawl and moaning, while the child, suddenlyawakened by the sound, rubbed its eyes with its wrinkled mottled hands,and then proceeded to take stock of Mr. Girdlestone and his office withthe critical philosophy of infancy.
"Calm yourself, my good woman, calm yourself," said the senior partner.He perceived that the evil prophesied by his son had come upon him, andhe made a mental note of this fresh instance of Ezra's powers offoresight.
"It was hard, so it was," said Mrs. Hudson, drying her eyes, but stillgiving vent to an occasional tempestuous sob. "I heard as the _BlackEagle_ was comin' up the river, so I spent all I had in my pocket inmakin' Jim a nice little supper--ham an' eggs, which was always hisfavourite, an' a pint o' bitter, an' a quartern o' whiskey that he couldtake hot after, bein' naturally o' a cold turn, and him comin' from awarm country, too. Then out I goes, and down the river, until I seesthe _Black Eagle_ a-comin' up wi' a tug in front of her. Well I knowedthe two streaks o' white paint, let alone the screechin' o' the parrotswhich I could hear from the bank. I could see the heads o' some of themen peepin' over the side, so I waves my handkercher, and one o' them hewaves back. 'Trust Jim for knowin' his little wife,' says I, proud liketo myself, and I runs round to where I knew as they'd dock her.What with me being that excited that I couldn't rightly see where I wasgoing, and what with the crowd, for the men was comin' from work, Ididn't get there till the ship was alongside. Then I jumps aboard, andthe first man I seed was Sandy McPherson, who I knowed when we lived inBinnacle Lane. 'Where's Jim?' I cried, running forward, eager like, tothe forecastle, but he caught me by the arm as I passed him.'Steady, lass, steady!' Then I looked up at him, and his face was verygrave, and my knees got kind o' weak. 'Where's Jim?' says I.'Don't ask,' says he. 'Where is he, Sandy?' I screeches; and then,'Don't say the word, Sandy, don't you say it.' But, Lor' bless ye, sir,it didn't much matter what he said nor what he didn't, for I knowed all,an' down I flops on the deck in a dead faint. The mate, he took me homein a cab, and when I come to there was the supper lying, sir, and thebeer, and the things a-shinin', and all so cosy, an' the child askin'where her father was, for I told her he'd bring her some things fromAfrica. Then, to think of him a-lyin' dead in Bonny river, why, sir, itnigh broke my heart."
"A sore affliction," the merchant said, shaking his grizzled head."A sad visitation. But these things are sent to try us, Mrs. Hudson.They are warnings to us not to fix our thoughts too much upon the drossof this world, but to have higher aims and more durable aspirations.We are poor short-sighted creatures, the best of us, and often mistakeevil for good. What seems so sad to-day may, if taken in a properspirit, be looked back upon as a starting-point from which all the goodof your life has come."
"Bless you, sir!" said the widow, still furtively rubbing her eyes withthe corner of her little shawl. "You're a real kind gentleman. It doesme good to hear you talk."
"We have all our burdens and misfortunes," continued the senior partner."Some have more, some have less. To-day is your turn, to-morrow it maybe mine. But let us struggle on to the great goal, and the weight ofour burden need never cause us to sink by the wayside. And now I mustwish you a very good morning, Mrs. Hudson. Believe me, you have myhearty sympathy."
The woman rose and then stood irresolute for a moment, as though therewas something which she still wished to mention.
"When will I be able to draw Jim's back pay, sir?" she asked nervously."I have pawned nigh everything in the house, and the child and me isweak from want of food."
"Your husband's back pay," the merchant said, taking down a ledger fromthe shelf and turning rapidly over the leaves. "I think that you areunder a delusion, Mrs. Hudson. Let me see--Dawson, Duffield, Everard,Francis, Gregory, Gunter, Hardy. Ah, here it is--Hudson, boatswain ofthe _Black Eagle_. The wages which he received amounted, I see, to fivepounds a month. The voyage lasted eight months, but the ship had onlybeen out two months and a half when your husband died."
"That's true, sir," the widow said, with an anxious look at the longline of figures in the ledger.
"Of course, the contract ended at his death, so the firm owed him twelvepounds ten at that date. But I perceive from my books that you havebeen drawing half-pay during the whole eight months. You haveaccordingly had twenty pounds from the firm, and are therefore in itsdebt to the amount of seven pounds ten shillings. We'll say nothing ofthat at present," the senior partner concluded with a magnificent air."When you are a little better off you can make good the balance, butreally you can hardly expect us to assist you any further at present."
"But, sir, we have nothing," Mrs. Hudson sobbed.
"It is deplorable, most deplorable. But we are not the people to applyto. Your own good sense will tell you that, now that I have explainedit to you. Good morning. I wish you good fortune, and hope you willlet us know from time to time how you go on. We always take a keeninterest in the families of those who serve us." Mr. Girdlestone openedthe door, and the heart-sick little woman staggered away across theoffice, still bearing her heavy child.
When she got into the open air she stared around her like one dazed.The senior clerk looked anxiously at her as he stood at the open door.Then he glanced back into the office. Ezra Girdlestone was deep in someaccounts, and his brother clerks were all absorbed in their work. Hestole up to the woman, with an apologetic smile, slipped something intoher hand, and then hurried back into the office with an austere lookupon his face, as if his whole mind were absorbed in the affairs of thefirm. There are speculations above the ken of business men. Perhaps,Thomas Gilray, that ill-spared half-crown of yours may bring in betterinterest than the five-and-twenty pounds of your employer.