Chapter 78
I was thankful when I heard Jack stir, and had an excuse for getting up.
"Hullo!" said he, as I did so; "you were a jolly long time posting that letter last night, or else I must have gone to sleep pretty quickly."
"I just looked in to talk to Mr Smith," I said, "on my way back."
"Ah, do you know, I think he's working too hard. He didn't look well last night."
"He seemed a little out of sorts," I said, "but I'm afraid that's nothing very unusual. Well, old boy, how do you feel in prospect of your exam.?"
"Oh, all right," said Jack, complacently. "I suppose I ought to feel in mortal terror and nervousness and despondency. I believe that's what's expected of a fellow before an exam. If so, I'm unorthodox. Perhaps it's a sign I shall be plucked."
"I'm not afraid of that," said I.
"Well, I have a notion I may pull through."
"If you pa.s.s," said I, struck with a thought that had not before occurred to me, "shall you go to college, Jack?"
He laughed at the question.
"I should have to come out first of all," said he, "to get what would keep me at college. And even so, I'm not cut out for that sort of life."
"If you mean living by your brains, I say you are."
"Of course you say so. You're always stuffing me up. But, apart from that, you know there are other reasons why I should not be likely to get on well at a university."
I knew what his meaning was only too well.
"But what rubbish we are talking!" said he. "We've made up our minds I'm going to come out first, when it's more likely all I shall do will be to sc.r.a.pe through with a pa.s.s, and not take honours at all."
At this point Mr Smith looked in to wish Jack joy before he started, and greatly to my relief Billy entered at the same time.
The latter visitor was quite unexpected.
"Well, Billy, what's up?" I inquired.
"Ga on! As if you didn't know," replied the grinning youth.
"I don't know."
"What," said Billy, jerking his head towards Jack, "ain't he goin' to 'is 'sam, then?"
"Yes, he's going to his examination this morning."
"And I are a-goin' to give him a proper s.h.i.+ne afore he goes," replied the boy, almost fiercely.
"Of course you are, Billy," said Jack. "I believe I should come to grief altogether if I went without having my boots polished."
"In corse you would," said the delighted Billy, commencing operations forthwith.
"I say, governor," said he, looking up, halfway through his task, "I give the animal a topper last night."
"What animal?" inquired Jack.
"That there 'Orksbury, so I did. Him and 'is pal comes along and twigs me a-sottin' on my box. `That's the kid. Mas.h.i.+ng,' says 'Orksbury.
Mas.h.i.+ng he up to me, and says he, `Would you like a s.h.i.+llin', my boy?'
says he. `You're 'avin' a lark with me,' says I. `No, I ain't,' says 'e, 'oldin' it out. `What do yer want?' says I. `You know Smith?' says 'Orksbury. `That ain't no concarn of yourn,' says I. `You ain't got no concarn with my governor,' says I. `Oh, then you don't want the s.h.i.+llin'?' says he. `No, I don't,' says I,
`What do you mean by it?' says Mas.h.i.+ng, a-pullin' my ear. (Bless you, 'e don't know the way to pull a cove's ear; my old gal can do it proper.) `No one is going to do anything to Smith,' says 'e. `We only want you to give him this,' says he, pullin' out a bit of paper. `Don't give it 'im,' says 'Orksbury; `he's a young thief,' says 'e, `and 'e'll only spoil it all.' `I will so,' says I, `and I'll spoil you too,' says I, aimin' a brush at his 'ed. They gives me a wipin' for it, but there, they can't 'arf do it. And they says if I want my s.h.i.+llin' I can go and get it from that cantin' son of a thief--meanin' you, governor--what kep' me. Bless you, they did jaw, them two, but I give that 'Orksbury a topper, which I owed 'im one afore."
This spirited address on the part of our young friend I need hardly say interested us all deeply. We all resented the outrage which had been offered to him, and admired the spirit with which he had stood to his colours during the interview.
This little episode served to smooth the way for Mr Smith's interview with Jack. It gave him time to compose himself, and get over the emotion which the first sight of his lost son since last night's discovery naturally roused.
When he did speak it was steadily and cheerily as ever.
"Just popped up," he said, "to wish you success, my boy. Keep your head during the _viva-voce_, and remember that rule about the second aorist."
"All serene," said Jack, laughing. "I say, Mr Smith," added he, "if I don't pa.s.s I shall feel myself the most ungrateful brute out."
"So you will be," replied Mr Smith, nodding pleasantly as he left the room.
I wondered at his nerve, and admired the self-control which could thus enable him to talk and even jest at such a time.
I had time to walk round with Jack to the place of examination before business, and give him my final benediction at the door.
Then I hurried off to Hawk Street.
It was a long, dull day there without him. Hawk Street had long since ceased to be exciting. The fellows I liked--and they were very few--did not obtrude their affections on me during business hours, and the fellows I disliked had given up the pastime of baiting me as a bad job.
I had my own department of work to attend to, and very little communication with any one else in the doing of it, except with Doubleday, who, as the reader knows, usually favoured me when anything specially uninviting wanted doing.
Of Hawkesbury I now saw and heard less than any one. He had been promoted to a little glazed-in box of his own, where in stately solitude he managed the petty-cash, kept the correspondence, and generally worked as hard as one who is a cut above a clerk and a cut below a partner is expected to do.
On the day in question I was strongly tempted to break in upon his solitude and demand an explanation of his conduct to Billy on the preceding evening. But a moment's reflection convinced me of the folly of such a course. It was not likely, if I got any answer at all, I should get a satisfactory one, while to reopen communications at all after what had occurred might be unwise and mischievous. For ever since Hawkesbury and I had ceased to be on talking terms at the office I had been more comfortable there, and involved in fewer troubles than ever before.
So I let well alone.
During the day an important telegram arrived at the office, which kept the partners closeted together in the inner-room for an hour, in earnest conference, at the end of which time Hawkesbury was sent for.
Doubleday, who had seen the telegram, told me it was to say that a vessel reported lost had turned up, with a cargo which was now double the value in the market it would have been had she arrived when expected. However, there were points connected with the insurance and other matters which would require the presence of one of the firm at Liverpool, and this was evidently the object of the present confabulation.
"A year ago," said Doubleday, "they would have sent me. But now the darling comes in for all the trips."
Which proved to be the case now. Hawkesbury emerged from the inner-room with an important face, and told the junior clerk (I no longer held that distinguished post), to fetch a hansom immediately. Doubleday nudged me.
"If it was you or me, I fancy we'd fetch our own hansoms, eh! Never mind, we've neither of us got uncles."
"Haven't we?" said I, laughing. "I have."
"Ah--so have I, for the matter of that. Three--all as poor as church mice too. I mean we've not got uncles in the firm. But what puzzles me is, what is to become of the petty-cash? I suppose I'm to be favoured with that job during his lords.h.i.+p's absence. I shall certainly cover the book with c.r.a.pe."