CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
TAKING THE TIDE AT THE EBB.
When things in this world reach their lowest ebb, it is generallyunderstood or expected that the tide will turn, somehow, and rise. Notunfrequently the understanding and the expectation are disappointed.Still, there are sufficiently numerous instances of the fulfilment ofboth, to warrant the hope which is usually entertained by men and womenwhose tide has reached its lowest.
Mr Hazlit was naturally of a sanguine temperament. He entertained, wehad almost said, majestic views on many points. Esteeming himself "abeggar" on three hundred a year--the remains of the wreck of his vastfortune--he resolved to commence business again. Being a man of strictprobity and punctuality in all business matters, and being muchrespected and sympathised with by his numerous business friends, heexperienced little difficulty in doing so. Success attended hisefforts; the tide began to rise.
Seated in a miniature parlour, before a snug fire, in his cottage by thesea, with one of the prettiest girls in all England by his side,knitting him a pair of inimitable socks, the "beggar" opened his mouthslowly and spake.
"Aileen," said he, "I've been a fool!"
Had Mr Hazlit said so to some of his cynical male friends they mighthave tacitly admitted the fact, and softened the admission with a smile.As it was, his auditor replied:--
"No, papa, you have _not_."
"Yes, my love, I have. But I do not intend to prove the point ordispute it. There is a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at theebb, leads on to fortune."
Aileen suspended her knitting and looked at her sire with some surprise,for, being a very matter-of-fact unpoetical man, this misquotationalmost alarmed her.
"`Taken at the _flood_,' is it not, papa?"
"It may be so in Shakespeare's experience. _I_ say the ebb. When firstI was reduced to beggary--"
"You never were _that_, papa. We have never yet had to beg."
"Of course, of course," said Mr Hazlit, with a motion of his hand toforbid further interruption. "When I say `beggary,' you know what Imean. I certainly do _not_ mean that I carry a wallet and a staff, andwear ragged garments, and knock at backdoors. Well, when I was reducedto beggary, I had reached the lowest ebb. At that time I was led--markme, I was led--to `take the tide.' I took it, and have been rising withthe flood to fortune ever since. And yet, strange to say, though I amnow rich in a way I never before dreamed of, I have still an insanethirst for earthly gold. What was the passage, dear, that you quoted tome as being your text for the day?"
"`Owe no man anything,'" replied Aileen.
"Yes, it is curious. I have never mentioned the subject to you, mychild, but some months ago--when, as I have said, the tide was verylow--I was led to consider that passage, and under the influence of it Iwent to my creditors and delivered up to them your box of jewels. Youare aware, no doubt, that having passed through the insolvency court,and given up all that I possessed, I became legally free. This box wasrecovered from the deep, and restored to me after my effects had beengiven up to my creditors, so that I might have retained it. But I feltthat this would have been unjust. I respect the law which, after a manhas given up all he possesses, sets him free to begin life again withsome degree of hope, but I cannot avoid coming to the conclusion thatmoral duties cannot be abrogated by human laws. I take advantage of thelaw to prevent inhuman creditors from grinding me to death, but I refuseto take advantage of the law so as to escape from the clear duty that Iought to pay these creditors--gradually and according to my ability--tothe uttermost farthing. Having been led to act on this opinion, I gaveup the box of jewels. To my surprise, my creditors refused to takethem. They returned them to me as a gift. I accepted the gift as atrust. On the proceeds, as you see, we manage to live comfortably, andI am now conducting a fairly successful business in the old line--on asmall scale."
Mr Hazlit smiled sadly as he uttered the last words.
"And the debts, papa, which you told me once were so heavy, do you meanto pay them all?" asked Aileen, anxiously.
"I do," replied her father, earnestly; "by slow degrees it may be, butto the last farthing if I live. I shall try to owe no man anything."
A glad smile lit up Aileen's face as she was on the point of throwingher arms round her father's neck, when the door opened, and a smalldomestic--their only one besides the cook--put a letter into the handsof her young mistress.
Aileen's countenance assumed a troubled look a she handed it to herfather.
"It is for you, papa."
Mr Hazlit's visage also assumed an expression of anxiety as he openedand read the letter. It ran thus:--
"Deer Sur,--i thinks it unkomon 'ard that a man shood 'ave is beed sold under im wen anuther man oas im munny, speshally wen is wifes ill--praps a-dyin--the Law has washt yoo sur, but it do seam 'ard on me, if yoo cood spair ony a pownd or two id taik it kind.--Yoors to komand, John Timms."
"This is very much to the point," said Mr Hazlit, with a faint smile,handing the letter to Aileen. "It is, as you see, from our oldgreen-grocer, who must indeed be in great trouble when he, who used tobe so particularly civil, could write in that strain to me. Now,Aileen, I want your opinion on a certain point. In consequence of youreconomical ways, my love, I find myself in a position to give fiftypounds this half-year towards the liquidation of my debts."
The merchant paused, smiled, and absolutely looked a little confused.The idea of commencing to liquidate many thousands of pounds by means offifty was so inexpressibly ridiculous, that he half expected to hear hisown respectful child laugh at him. But Aileen did not laugh. With herlarge earnest eyes she looked at him, and the unuttered language of herpursed, grave, little mouth was "Well, go on."
"The liquidation of my debts," repeated Mr Hazlit, firmly. "The sum isindeed a small one--a paltry one--compared with the amount of thesedebts, but the passage which we have been considering appears to me toleave no option, save to begin at once, even on the smallest possiblescale. Now, my love, duty requires that I should at once begin toliquidate. Observe, the law of the land requires nothing. It has setme free, but the law of God requires that I should pay, at once, as I amable. Conscience echoes the law, and says, `pay.' What, therefore, amI to do?"
Mr Hazlit propounded this question with such an abrupt gaze as well astone of interrogation, that the little pursed mouth relaxed into alittle smile as it said, "I suppose you must divide the sumproportionally among your creditors, or something of that sort."
"Just so," said Mr Hazlit, nodding approval. "Now," he continued, withmuch gravity, "if I were to make the necessary calculation--which, I mayremark, would be a question in proportion running into what I may beallowed to style infinitesimal fractions--I would probably find out thatthe proportion payable to one would be a shilling, to another half asovereign, to another a pound or so, while to many would accrue so smalla fraction of a farthing that no suitable coin of this realm could befound wherewith to pay it. If I were to go with, say two shillings, andoffer them to my good friend Granby as part payment of my debt to him,the probability is that he would laugh in my face and invite me todinner in order that we might celebrate the event over a bottle of veryold port. Don't you think so?"
Aileen laughed, and said that she did think so.
"Well, then," continued her father, "what, in these circumstances, sayscommon sense?"
Aileen's mouth became grave again, and her eyes very earnest as she saidquickly--
"Pay off the green-grocer!"
Mr Hazlit nodded approval. "You are right. Mr Timms' account amountsto twenty pounds. To offer twenty pounds to Mr Granby--to whom I owesome eight thousand, more or less--would be a poor practical joke. Togive it to Mr Timms will evidently be the saving of his business at atime when it appears to have reached a crisis. Put on your bonnet andshawl, dear, and we will go about this matter without delay."
Aileen was one of those girls who possessed the rare and delectablecapacity to "throw on" her bonnet an
d shawl. One glance in the mirrorsufficed to convince her that these articles, although thrown on, hadfallen into their appropriate places neatly. It could scarcely havebeen otherwise. Her bonnet and shawl took kindly to her, like all otherthings in nature--animate and otherwise. She reappeared before hersedate father had quite finished drawing on his gloves.
Mr John Timms dwelt in a back lane which wriggled out of a back streetas if it were anxious to find something still further back into which toback itself. He had been in better circumstances and in a better partof the town when Mr Hazlit had employed him. At the time of the richmerchant's failure, the house of Timms had been in a shaky condition.That failure was the removal of its last prop; it fell, and Timmsretired, as we have seen, into the commercial background. Here,however, he did not find relief. Being a trustful man he was cheateduntil he became untrustful. His wife became ill owing to bad air andlow diet. His six children became unavoidably neglected and riotous,and his business, started on the wreck of the old one, again came to thebrink of failure. It was in these circumstances that he sat down, underthe impulse of a fit of desperation, and penned the celebrated letter tohis old customer.
When Mr Hazlit and his daughter had, with great difficulty, discoveredMr Timms' residence and approached the door, they were checked on thethreshold by the sound of men apparently in a state of violentaltercation within.
"Git out wid ye, an' look sharp, you spalpeen," cried one of the voices.
"Oh, pray don't--don't fight!" cried a weak female voice.
"No, I won't git out till I'm paid, or carry your bed away with me,"cried a man's voice, fiercely.
"You won't, eh! Arrah then--hup!"
The last sound, which is not describable, was immediately followed bythe sudden appearance of a man, who flew down the passage as if from aprojectile, and went headlong into the kennel. He was followed closelyby Rooney Machowl, who dealt the man as he rose a sounding slap on theright cheek, which would certainly have tumbled him over again had itnot been followed by an equally sounding slap on the left cheek, which"brought him up all standing."
Catching sight at that moment of Mr Hazlit and Aileen, Rooney stoppedshort and stood confused.
"Murder!" shrieked the injured man.
"Hooray! Here's a lark!" screamed a small street-boy.
"Go it! Plice! A skrimmage!" yelled another street-boy in an ecstasyof delight, which immediately drew to the spot the nucleus of a crowd.
Mr Hazlit was a man of promptitude. He was also a large man, as wehave elsewhere said, and by no means devoid of courage. Dropping hisdaughter's arm he suddenly seized the ill-used and noisy man by theneck, and thrust him almost as violently back into the green-grocer'shouse as Rooney had kicked him out of it. He then said, "Go in," to theamazed Rooney, and dragging his no less astonished child in along withhim, shut and locked the door.
"Now," said Mr Hazlit, sitting down on a broken chair in a very shabbylittle room, and wiping his heated brow, "what is the meaning of allthis, Mr Timms?"
"Well, sir," answered Timms, with a deprecatory air, "I'm sorry, sir, itshould 'ave 'appened just w'en you was a-goin' to favour me with theunexpected honour of a wisit; but the truth is, sir, I couldn't 'elp it.This 'ere sc--man is my landlord, sir, an' 'e _wouldn't_ wait anotherday for 'is rent, sir, though I told 'im he was pretty sure o' 'avin itin a week or so, w'en I 'ad time to c'lect my outstandin' littlebills--"
"More nor that, sur," burst in the impatient and indignant Rooney, "hewould 'ave gone into that there room, sur,--if I may miscall a darkcloset by that name--an' 'ave pulled the bed out from under Mrs Timms,who's a-dyin', sur, if I 'adn't chanced to come in, sur, an' kick thespalpeen into the street, as you see'd."
"For w'ich you'll smart yet," growled the landlord, who stood in adishevelled heap like a bad boy in a corner.
"How much rent does he owe you?" asked Mr Hazlit of the landlord.
"That's no business o' yours," replied the man, sulkily.
"If I were to offer to pay it, perhaps you'd allow that it _was_ mybusiness."
"So I will _w'en_ you offers."
"Well, then, I offer now," said Mr Hazlit, taking out his purse, andpouring a little stream of sovereigns into his hand. "Have you thereceipt made out?"
The landlord made no reply, but, with a look of wonder at hisinterrogator, drew a small piece of dirty paper from his pocket and heldit out. Mr Hazlit examined it carefully from beginning to end.
"Is this right, Mr Timms?" he asked.
The green-grocer examined the paper, and said it was--that five poundswas the exact amount.
"You can put the receipt in your pocket," said Mr Hazlit, turning roundand counting out five sovereigns on the table, which he pushed towardsthe landlord. "Now, take yourself off, as quietly as you can, else I'llhave you taken up and tried for entering a man's premises forcibly, andendeavouring to obtain money by intimidation. Go!"
This was a bold stroke on the part of the merchant, whose legalknowledge was not extensive, but it succeeded. The landlord pocketedthe money and moved towards the door. Rooney Machowl followed him.
"Rooney!" said Mr Hazlit, calling him back.
"Mayn't I show him out, sur?" said Rooney, earnestly.
"By no means."
"Ah, sur, mayn't I give him a farewell kick?"
"Certainly not."
Mr Hazlit then expressed a desire to see Mrs Timms, and thegreen-grocer, thanking the merchant fervently for his timely aid,lighted a candle and led the way into the dark closet.
Poor Mrs Timms, a delicate-looking woman, not yet forty, who hadevidently been pretty once, lay on a miserable bed, apparently at thepoint of death.
Aileen glided quickly to the bed, sat down on it, and took the woman'shand, while she bent over her and whispered:--
"Don't be distressed. The rent is paid. He will disturb you no more.You shall be quiet now, and I will come to see you sometimes, if you'lllet me."
The woman gazed at the girl with surprise, then, as she felt the gentlewarm pressure of her hand a sudden rush of faith seemed to fill hersoul. She drew Aileen towards her, and looked earnestly into her face.
"Come here, Timms," said Mr Hazlit, abruptly, as he turned round andwalked out of the closet, "I want to speak to you. I am no doctor, butdepend upon it your wife will _not_ die. There is a very smallbuilding--quite a hut I may say--near my house--ahem! Near my cottageclose to the sea, which is at present to let. I advise you strongly totake that hut and start a green-grocery there. I'm not aware that thereis one in the immediate neighbourhood, and there are many respectablefamilies about whose custom you might doubtless count on; at all events,you would be sure of ours to begin with. The sea-air would do your wifea world of good, and the sea-beach would be an agreeable and extensiveplayground for your children."
The green-grocer stood almost aghast! The energy with which Mr Hazlitpoured out his words, and, as it seemed to Timms, the free and easymagnificence of his ideas were overpowering.
"W'y, sir, I ain't got no money to do sitch a thing with," he said atlast, with a broad grin.
"Yes, you have," said Mr Hazlit, again pulling out his purse andemptying its golden contents on the table in a little heap, from whichhe counted fifteen sovereigns. "My debt to you amounts, I believe, totwenty pounds; five I have just paid to your landlord, here is thebalance. You needn't mind a receipt. Send me the discharged account atyour leisure, and think over what I have suggested. Aileen, my dear, wewill go now."
Aileen said good-night at once to the sick woman and followed her fatheras he went out, repeating--"Good-evening, Timms, think over mysuggestion."
They walked slowly home without speaking. Soon they reached the cottageby the sea. As they stood under the trellis-work porch the merchantturned round and gazed at the sun, which was just dipping into thehorizon, flooding sea and sky with golden glory.
"Aileen," he said in a low voice, "I have commenced life at last--lifein earnest. I was a poor fool once. Through g
race I am a rich mannow."