Chapter 61
"Oh, yes, you do, boy. Ho, hi! Mrs Jennings, bring up some figs."
He toddled back to his chair, but was up again directly, to shout down the staircase:
"Bring up some almonds and raisins, and candied peel, Mrs Jennings."
"Lor' bless the man, do you want the whole shop?" shouted a sharp voice.
"No, I don't," said Mr Jabez grumpily, as he toddled back. "I was an out-and-outer for candied peel when I was a boy," he said, rubbing his hands. "Those dried apples, too, that look as if they had been sat upon by old women, Grace. Ah, I spent a lot of pennies on them when I was a boy."
A red-faced woman here made her appearance with a plateful of the sweets that Mr Jabez had named, and she rather scowled at me, and banged the plate down hard enough almost to break it as she whisked out of the room again and slammed the door.
"Now, Grace, fall to, as they say in copy about feasts. See that woman?"
"Yes, Mr Jabez."
"She's a Tartar, she is. I live here because that woman acts as a lighthouse to me."
"A lighthouse, sir? Because she has got such a red face?"
"Get out! No, you young joker. A warning, a beacon, a bell-buoy, a light-s.h.i.+p, to warn me off the rocks and shoals of matrimony. I should have married, Grace, years ago, if I hadn't seen what a life a woman can lead a man. She has nearly made her husband a lunatic."
"Indeed, Mr Jabez?"
"Well, say imbecile. Peg away, my boy," he continued, laughing; "these figs are beautiful. Peel's good, too."
So it seemed, for Mr Jabez was feasting away with great gusto, and eating two of everything to my one.
"Yes, sir, I should have been married and a poor man, instead of comparatively rich--at least, was. Money matters are rather awkward just now."
"I'm very sorry to hear it, Mr Jabez," I said.
"I'm sorry to feel it," said Mr Jabez, with a fig in one hand and a piece of candied peel in the other. "Come,
"Is it Mr Grimstone?" I faltered.
"Yes, but you don't eat. Take another fig," cried Mr Jabez, as, without knocking, Mr Grimstone entered the room.
"Hallo," he said, without taking off his hat, "what the deuce are you doing here?"
"I've come to see Mr Jabez, Mr Grimstone," I replied.
"Oh, have you? So have I. How long are you going to stop?"
"Oh, hours yet," said Mr Jabez. "Sit down, Grim. He doesn't matter; speak out. He doesn't belong to the shop now. Well: what news?"
"Bad!" said Mr Grimstone, throwing himself into a chair. "Here, boy, take my hat."
I took it quite obediently, and resumed my seat, while Mr Grimstone wiped his bald head with a bright orange handkerchief.
"You don't say so?" said Mr Jabez uneasily.
"Yes, I do," said Mr Grimstone, taking the box out of the reader's hand and helping himself to a pinch; "I said it quite plain."
"It's a bad job."
"Have you just found that out?" snarled the overseer. "Pretty pair of fools we've been. Look here, send that boy away."
"No, no; no, no. Sit still, Grace. Eat some more figs, boy. I'll call Mrs Jennings when you've eaten them. There, go on, Grim. Antony Grace isn't a chatterer."
"Just as you like," said Grimstone. "Well, if he doesn't get married to that gal right off, and bank her money, the game's up, and your 500 pounds and my 750 pounds are gone to the deuce."
"Is it 750 pounds, Grimstone?"
"Yes, curse him! he got round me with all sorts of promises."
"Of bonus, Grim, eh?"
"Yes, I suppose so," growled the overseer. "That bill-discounter chap, Brandysheim, or Brandyman or something's, cornering him. He was at the office to-day, and there was a regular s.h.i.+ne."
"Was Ruddle there?"
"No, but I hear that Brandysheim threatened to come down on him if he wasn't paid."
"And what then?"
"What then?" growled Grimstone, with a show of his teeth; "why, Lister's smashed up--bankrupt, and you and I may sit and stare at each other for a pair of fools."
"But it won't hurt Ruddle."
"No, only bother him. If Lister's bankrupt, he's partner no longer, and Ruddle will have to find out what share he has in the business."
"Yes, that's what I thought," said Mr Jabez dolefully.
"And we shan't get a penny!"
"Not even interest," said Mr Jabez.
"Not even interest," echoed Grimstone.
"Not even bonus," said Mr Jabez.
"Not even bonus," echoed Grimstone again.
"What's he done with his money, that's what I want to know?" said Mr Jabez.
"Wine--women--horse-racing--foolery! He's been carrying on like mad, and what I suspect is this--Miss Carr begins to smell a rat, and I shouldn't be a bit surprised if the wedding didn't come off."
Mr Jabez stared dolefully at Mr Grimstone, and the overseer kept on taking pinches of snuff till the box was empty; and, after searching round with finger and thumb, threw the box impatiently down.