Elster's Folly by Mrs. Henry Wood (buy e reader .TXT) 📕

"Did Capper See You As You Came By,  Sir? Wouldn't She Be Struck!"

"Nearly Into Stone," He Laughed.

Mirrable Disappeared For A Minute Or Two,  And Came Back With A Silver

Coffee-Pot In Her Hand. The Name Of The Lodge-Keeper Had Brought To His

Remembrance The Unpleasant Hint She Mentioned,  And He Spoke Of It

Impulsively--As He Did Most Things.

"Mirrable,  What Man Is It They Call Pike,  Who Has Taken Possession Of

That Old Shed?"

"I'm Sure I Don't Know,  Sir," Answered Mirrable,  After A Pause,  Which Mr.

Elster Thought Was Involuntary; For She Was Busy At The Moment Rubbing

The Coffee-Pot With Some Wash-Leather,  Her Head And Face Bent Over It,  As

She Stood With Her Back To Him. He Slipped Off The Table,  And Went Up To

Her.

"I Saw Smoke Rising From The Shed,  And Asked Capper What It Meant,  And

She Told Me About This Man Pike. Pike! It's A Curious Name."

Mirrable Rubbed Away,  Never Answering.

"Capper Said He Had Been Suspected Of Firing The Shot That Killed My

Brother," He Continued,  In Low Tones. "Did _You_ Ever Hear Of Such A

Hint,  Mirrable?"

Mirrable Darted Off To The Fireplace,  And Began Stirring The Milk Lest It

Should Boil Over. Her Face Was Almost Buried In The Saucepan,  Or Mr.

Elster Might Have Seen The Sudden Change That Came Over It; The Thin

Cheeks That Had Flushed Crimson,  And Now Were Deadly White. Lifting The

Saucepan On To The Hob,  She Turned To Mr. Elster.

"Don't You Believe Any Such Nonsense,  Sir," She Said,  In Tones Of Strange

Emphasis. "It Was No More Pike Than It Was Me. The Man Keeps Himself To

Himself,  And Troubles Nobody; And For That Very Reason Idle Folk Carp At

Him,  Like The Mischief-Making Idiots They Are!"

"I Thought There Was Nothing In It," Remarked Mr. Elster.

"I'm _Sure_ There Isn't," Said Mirrable,  Conclusively. "Would You Like

Some Broiled Ham,  Sir?"

"I Should Like Anything Good And Substantial,  For I'm As Hungry As

A Hunter. But,  Mirrable,  You Don't Ask What Has Brought Me Here So

Suddenly."

The Tone Was Significant,  And Mirrable Looked At Him. There Was A Spice

Of Mischief In His Laughing Blue Eyes.

"I Come On A Mission To You; An Avant-Courier From His Lordship,  To

Charge You To Have All Things In Readiness. To-Morrow You Will Receive

A Houseful Of Company; More Than Hartledon Will Hold."

Mirrable Looked Aghast. "It Is One Of Your Jokes,  Mr. Val!"

"Indeed,  It Is The Truth. My Brother Will Be Down With A Trainful; And

Desires That Everything Shall Be Ready For Their Reception."

"My Patience!" Gasped Mirrable. "And The Servants,  Sir?"

"Most Of Them Will Be Here To-Night. The Countess-Dowager Of Kirton Is

Coming As Hartledon's Mistress For The Time Being."

"Oh!" Said Mirrable,  Who Had Once Had The Honour Of Seeing The

Countess-Dowager Of Kirton. And The Monosyllable Was So Significant

That Val Elster Drew Down The Corners Of His Mouth.

"I Don't Like The Countess-Dowager,  Sir," Remarked Mirrable In Her

Freedom.

"I Can't Bear Her," Returned Val Elster.

Had Percival Elster Lingered Ever So Short A Time Near The Clerk's House

That Morning He Would Have Met That Functionary Himself; For In Less Than

A Minute After He Had Passed Out Of Sight Jabez Gum's Door Opened,  And

Jabez Gum Glided Out Of It.

It Is A Term Chiefly Applied To Ghosts; But Mr. Gum Was A Great Deal More

Like A Ghost Than Like A Man. He Was Remarkably Tall And Thin; A Very

Shadow; With A White Shadow Of A Face,  And A Nose That Might Have Served

As A Model For A Mask In A Carnival Of Guys. A Sharp Nose,  Twice The

Length And Half The Breadth Of Any Ordinary Nose--A Very Ferret Of A

Nose; Its Sharp Tip Standing Straight Out Into The Air. People Said,  With

Such A Nose Mr. Gum Ought To Have A Great Deal Of Curiosity. And They

Were Right; He _Had_ A Great Deal In A Quiet Way.

A Most Respectable Man Was Mr. Gum,  And He Prided Himself Upon It. Mr.

Gum--More Often Called Clerk Gum In The Village--Had Never Done A Wrong

Thing In His Life,  Or Fallen Into A Scrape. He Had Been Altogether A

Pattern To Calne In General,  And To Its Black Sheep In Particular. Dr.

Ashton Himself Could Not Have Had Less Brought Against Him Than Clerk

Gum; And It Would Just Have Broken Mr. Gum's Heart Had His Good Name Been

Tarnished In Ever So Slight A Degree. Perhaps No Man Living Had Been Born

With A Larger Share Of Self-Esteem Than Jabez Gum. Clerk Of The Parish

Longer Than Dr. Ashton Had Been Its Rector,  Jabez Gum Had Lived At His

Ease In A Pecuniary Point Of View. It Was One Of Those Parishes (I Think

Few Of Them Remain Now) Where The Clerk's Emoluments Are Large. He Also

Held Other Offices; Was An Agent For One Or Two Companies,  And Was Looked

Upon As An Exceedingly Substantial Man For His Station In Life. Perhaps

He Was Less So Than People Imagined. The Old Saying Is All Too True:

"Nobody Knows Where The Shoe Pinches But He Who Wears It."

Jabez Gum Had His Thorn,  As A Great Many More Of Us Have Ours,  If The

Outside World Only Knew It. And Jabez,  At Odd Moments,  When The Thorn

Pierced Him Very Sharply,  Had Been Wont To Compare His Condition To St.

Paul's,  And To Wonder Whether The Pricks Inflicted On That Holy Man Could

Have Bled As His Own Did. He Meant No Irreverence When He Thought This;

Neither Do I In Writing It. We Are Generally Wounded In The Most

Vulnerable Spot About Us,  And Jabez Gum Made No Exception To The Rule. He

Had Been Assailed In His Cherished Respectability,  His Self-Esteem.

Assailed And _Scarred_. How Broad And Deep The Scar Was Jabez Never Told

The World,  Which As A Rule Does Not Sympathise With Such Scars,  But Turns

Aside In Its Cruel Indifference. The World Had Almost Forgotten The Scar

Now,  And Supposed Clerk Gum Had Done The Same. It Was All Over And Done

With Years Ago.

Jabez Gum's Wife--To Whom You Will Shortly Have The Honour Of An

Introduction,  But She Is In Her Bedroom Just Now--Had Borne Him One

Child,  And Only One. How This Boy Was Loved,  How Tenderly Reared,  Let

Calne Tell You. Mrs. Gum Had To Endure No Inconsiderable Amount Of

Ridicule At The Time From Her Gossiping Friends,  Who Gave Willy Sundry

Endearing Names,  Applied In Derision. Certainly,  If Any Mother Ever Was

Bound Up In A Child,  Mrs. Gum Was In Hers. The Boy Was Well Brought Up. A

Good Education Was Given Him; And At The Age Of Sixteen He Went To London

And To Fortune. The One Was Looked Upon As A Natural Sequence To The

Other. Some Friend Of Jabez Gum's Had Interested Himself To Procure The

Lad's Admission Into One Of The Great Banks As A Junior Clerk. He Might

Rise In Time To Be Cashier,  Manager,  Even Partner; Who Knew? Who Knew

Indeed? And Clerk Gum Congratulated Himself,  And Was More Respectable

Than Ever.

Better That Willy Gum Had Remained At Calne! And Yet,  And Again--Who

Knew? When The Propensity For Ill-Doing Exists It Is Sure To Come Out,  No

Matter Where. There Were Some People In Calne Who Could Have Told Clerk

Gum,  Even Then,  That Willy,  For His Age,  Was Tolerably Fast And Forward.

Mrs. Gum Had Heard Of One Or Two Things That Had Caused Her Hair To Rise

On End With Horror; Ay,  And With Apprehension; But,  Foolish Mother That

She Was,  Not A Syllable Did She Breathe To The Clerk; And No One Else

Ventured To Tell Him.

She Talked To Willy With Many Sighs And Tears; Implored Him To Be A Good

Boy And Enter On Good Courses,  Not On Bad Ones That Would Break Her

Heart. Willy,  The Little Scapegrace,  Was Willing To Promise Anything. He

Laughed And Made Light Of It; It Wasn't His Fault If Folks Told Stories

About Him; She Couldn't Be So Foolish As To Give Ear To Them. London? Oh,

He Should Be All Right In London! One Or Two Fellows Here Were Rather

Fast,  There Was No Denying It; And They Drew Him With Them; They Were

Older Than He,  And Ought To Have Known Better. Once Away From Calne,  They

Could Have No More Influence Over Him,  And He Should Be All Right.

She Believed Him; Putting Faith In The Plausible Words. Oh,  What Trust

Can Be So Pure,  And At The Same Time So Foolish,  As That Placed By A

Mother In A Beloved Son! Mrs. Gum Had Never Known But One Idol On Earth;

He Who Now Stood Before Her,  Lightly Laughing At Her Fears,  Making His

Own Tale Good. She Leaned Forward And Laid Her Hands Upon His Shoulders

And Kissed Him With That Impassioned Fervour That Some Mothers Could Tell

Of,  And Whispered That She Would Trust Him Wholly.

Mr. Willy Extricated Himself With As Little Impatience As He Could Help:

These Embraces Were Not To His Taste. And Yet The Boy Did Love His

Mother. She Was Not At All A Wise Woman,  Or A Clever One; Rather Silly,

Indeed,  In Many Things; But She Was Fond Of Him. At This Period He Was

Young-Looking For His Age,  Slight,  And Rather Undersized,  With An

Exceedingly Light Complexion,  A Wishy-Washy Sort Of Face With No Colour

In It,  Unmeaning Light Eyes,  White Eyebrows,  And Ragged-Looking Light

Hair With A Tawny Shade Upon It.

Willy Gum Departed For London,  And Entered On His Engagement In The Great

Banking-House Of Goldsworthy And Co.

How He Went On In It Calne Could Not Get To Learn,  Though It Was

Moderately Inquisitive Upon The Point. His Father And Mother Heard From

Him Occasionally; And Once The Clerk Took A Sudden And Rather Mysterious

Journey To London,  Where He Stayed For A Whole Week. Rumour Said--I

Wonder Where Such Rumours First Have Their Rise--That Willy Gum Had

Fallen Into Some Trouble,  And The Clerk Had Had To Buy Him Out Of It At

The Cost Of A Mint Of Money. The Clerk,  However,  Did Not Confirm This;

And One Thing Was Indisputable: Willy Retained His Place In The

Banking-House. Some People Looked On This Fact As A Complete Refutation

Of The Rumour.

Then Came A Lull. Nothing Was Heard Of Willy; That Is,  Nothing Beyond The

Reports Of Mrs. Gum To Her Gossips When Letters Arrived: He Was Well,  And

Getting On Well. It Was Only The Lull That Precedes A Storm; And A Storm

Indeed Burst On Quiet Calne. Willy Gum Had Robbed The Bank And

Disappeared.

In The First Dreadful Moment,  Perhaps The Only One Who Did _Not_

Disbelieve It Was Clerk Gum. Other People Said There Must Be Some

Mistake: It Could Not Be. Kind Old Lord Hartledon Came Down In His

Carriage To The Clerk's House--He Was Too Ill To Walk--And Sat With

The Clerk And The Weeping Mother,  And Said He Was Sure It Could Not Be

So Bad As Was Reported. The Next Morning Saw Handbills--Great,  Staring,

Large-Typed Handbills--Offering A Reward For The Discovery Of William

Gum,  Posted All Over Calne.

Once More Clerk Gum Went To London. What He Did There No One Knew. One

Thing Only Was Certain--He Did Not Find Willy Or Any Trace Of Him. The

Defalcation Was Very Nearly Eight Hundred Pounds; And Even If Mr. Gum

Could Have Refunded That Large Sum,  He Might Not Do So,  Said Calne,  For

Of Course The Bank Would Not Compound A Felony. He Came Back Looking Ten

Years Older; His Tall,  Thin Form More Shadowy,  His Nose Longer And

Sharper. Not A Soul Ventured To Say A Syllable To Him,  Even Of

Condolence. He Told Lord Hartledon And His Rector That No Tidings

Whatever Could Be Gleaned Of His Unhappy Son; The Boy Had Disappeared,

And Might Be Dead For All They Knew To The Contrary.

So The Handbills Wore Themselves Out On The Walls,  Serving No Purpose,

Until Lord Hartledon Ordered Them To Be Removed; And Mrs. Gum Lived