CHAPTER XXI
LOATHSOME GIFTS
There are doubtless men so constructed that they can find themselvesaccepted suitors without any particular whirl of emotion. KingSolomon probably belonged to this class, and even Henry the Eighthmust have become a trifle blase in time. But, to the average man,the sensations are complex and overwhelming. A certain stunnedfeeling is perhaps predominant. Blended with this is relief, therelief of a general who has brought a difficult campaign to asuccessful end, or of a member of a forlorn hope who finds that thedanger is over and that he is still alive. To this must be added anewly born sense of magnificence. Our suspicion that we weresomething rather out of the ordinary run of men is suddenlyconfirmed. Our bosom heaves with complacency, and the world hasnothing more to offer.
With some, there is an alloy of apprehension in the metal of theirhappiness, and the strain of an engagement sometimes brings with iteven a faint shadow of regret. "She makes me buy things," one swain,in the third quarter of his engagement, was overheard to moan to afriend. "Two new ties only yesterday." He seemed to be debatingwith himself whether human nature could stand the strain.
But, whatever tragedies may cloud the end of the period, itsbeginning at least is bathed in sunshine.
Jimmy, regarding his lathered face in the glass as he dressed fordinner that night, marveled at the excellence of this best of allpossible worlds.
No doubts disturbed him. That the relations between Mr. McEachernand himself offered a permanent bar to his prospects, he did notbelieve. For the moment, he declined to consider the existence ofthe ex-constable at all. In a world that contained Molly, there wasno room for other people. They were not in the picture. They did notexist.
To him, musing contentedly over the goodness of life, there entered,in the furtive manner habitual to that unreclaimed buccaneer, SpikeMullins. It may have been that Jimmy read his own satisfaction andhappiness into the faces of others, but it certainly seemed to himthat there was a sort of restrained joyousness about Spike'sdemeanor. The Bowery boy's shuffles on the carpet were almost adance. His face seemed to glow beneath his crimson hair.
"Well," said Jimmy, "and how goes the world with young LordFitz-Mullins? Spike, have you ever been best man?
"What's dat, boss?"
"Best man at a wedding. Chap who stands by the bridegroom with ahand on the scruff of his neck to see that he goes through with it.Fellow who looks after everything, crowds the money on to theminister at the end of the ceremony, and then goes off and mayriesthe first bridesmaid, and lives happily ever."
Spike shook his head.
"I ain't got no use for gittin' married, boss."
"Spike, the misogynist! You wait, Spike. Some day, love will awakein your heart, and you'll start writing poetry."
"I'se not dat kind of mug, boss," protested the Bowery boy. "I ain'tgot no use fer goils. It's a mutt's game."
This was rank heresy. Jimmy laid down the razor from motives ofprudence, and proceeded to lighten Spike's reprehensible darkness.
"Spike, you're an ass," he said. "You don't know anything about it.If you had any sense at all, you'd understand that the only thingworth doing in life is to get married. You bone-headed bachelorsmake me sick. Think what it would mean to you, having a wife. Thinkof going out on a cold winter's night to crack a crib, knowing thatthere would be a cup of hot soup waiting for you when you got back,and your slippers all warmed and comfortable. And then she'd sit onyour knee, and you'd tell her how you shot the policeman, and you'dexamine the swag together--! Why, I can't imagine anything cozier.Perhaps there would be little Spikes running about the house. Can'tyou see them jumping with joy as you slid in through the window, andtold the great news? 'Fahzer's killed a pleeceman!' cry the tiny,eager voices. Candy is served out all round in honor of the event.Golden-haired little Jimmy Mullins, my god-son, gets a dime forhaving thrown a stone at a plain-clothes detective that afternoon.All is joy and wholesome revelry. Take my word for it, Spike,there's nothing like domesticity."
"Dere was a goil once," said Spike, meditatively. "Only, I was neverher steady. She married a cop."
"She wasn't worthy of you, Spike," said Jimmy, sympathetically. "Agirl capable of going to the bad like that would never have done foryou. You must pick some nice, sympathetic girl with a romanticadmiration for your line of business. Meanwhile, let me finishshaving, or I shall be late for dinner. Great doings on to-night,Spike."
Spike became animated.
"Sure, boss I Dat's just what--"
"If you could collect all the blue blood that will be under thisroof to-night, Spike, into one vat, you'd be able to start adyeing-works. Don't try, though. They mightn't like it. By the way, haveyou seen anything more--of course, you have. What I mean is, haveyou talked at all with that valet man, the one you think is adetective?"
"Why, boss, dat's just--"
"I hope for his own sake he's a better performer than my old friend,Galer. That man is getting on my nerves, Spike. He pursues me like asmell-dog. I expect he's lurking out in the passage now. Did you seehim?"
"Did I! Boss! Why--"
Jimmy inspected Spike gravely.
"Spike," he said, "there's something on your mind. You're trying tosay something. What is it? Out with it."
Spike's excitement vented itself in a rush of words.
"Gee, boss! There's bin doin's to-night fer fair. Me coco's stillbuzzin'. Sure t'ing! Why, say, when I was to Sir Tummas' dressin'-roomdis afternoon--"
"What!"
"Surest t'ing you know. Just before de storm come on, when it wasall as dark as could be. Well, I was--"
Jimmy interrupted.
"In Sir Thomas's dressing-room! What the--"
Spike looked somewhat embarrassed. He grinned apologetically, andshuffled his feet.
"I've got dem, boss!" he said, with a smirk.
"Got them? Got what?"
"Dese."
Spike plunged a hand in a pocket, and drew forth in a glitteringmass Lady Julia Blunt's rope of diamonds.