CHAPTER XVIII.
CROCKER'S TALE.
A thing difficult to get is the thing mostly prized, not the thingthat is valuable. Two or three additional Kimberley mines foundsomewhere among the otherwise uninteresting plains of South Africawould bring down the price of diamonds amazingly. It could hardlyhave been the beauty, or the wit, or the accomplishments of ClaraDemijohn which caused Mr. Tribbledale to triumph so loudly and withso genuine an exultation, telling all Broad Street of his success,when he had succeeded in winning the bride who had once promisedherself to Crocker. Were it not that she had all but slipped throughhis fingers he would never surely have thought her to be worthyof such a paean. Had she come to his first whistle he might havebeen contented enough,--as are other ordinary young men with theirordinary young women. He would probably have risen to no enthusiasmof passion. But as things had gone he was as another Paris who hadtorn a Helen from her Menelaus,--only in this case an honest Paris,with a correct Helen, and from a Menelaus who had not as yet madegood his claim. But the subject was worthy of another Iliad, to befollowed by another Aeneid. By his bow and his spear he had tornher from the arms of a usurping lover, and now made her all hisown. Another man would have fainted and abandoned the contest, whenrejected as he had been. But he had continued the fight, even whenlying low on the dust of the arena. He had nailed his flag to themast when all his rigging had been cut away;--and at last he had wonthe battle. Of course his Clara was doubly dear to him, having beenmade his own after such difficulties as these.
"I'm not one of those who easily give way in an affair of the heart,"he said to Mr. Littlebird, the junior partner in the firm, when hetold that gentleman of his engagement.
"So I perceive, Mr. Tribbledale."
"When a man has set his affection on a young lady,--that is, hisreal affection,--he ought to stick to it,--or die." Mr. Littlebird,who was the happy father of three or four married and marriageabledaughters, opened his eyes with surprise. The young men who had comeafter his young ladies had been pressing enough, but they had notdied. "Or die!" repeated Tribbledale. "It is what I should have done.Had she become Mrs. Crocker, I should never again have been seen inthe Court,"--"the Court" was the little alley in which Pogson andLittlebird's office was held,--"unless they had brought my dead bodyhere to be identified." He was quite successful in his enthusiasm.Though Mr. Littlebird laughed when he told the story to Mr. Pogson,not the less did they agree to raise his salary to L160 on and fromthe day of his marriage.
"Yes, Mr. Fay," he said to the poor old Quaker, who had lately beenso broken by his sorrow as hardly to be as much master of Tribbledaleas he used to be, "I have no doubt I shall be steady now. If anythingcan make a young man steady it is--success in love."
"I hope thou wilt be happy, Mr. Tribbledale."
"I shall be happy enough now. My heart will be more in thebusiness,--what there isn't of it at any rate with that dear creaturein our mutual home at Islington. It was lucky about his having takenthose lodgings, because Clara had got as it were used to them. Andthere are one or two things, such as a clock and the like, which neednot be moved. If anything ever should happen to you, Mr. Fay, Pogsonand Littlebird will find me quite up to the business."
"Something will happen some day, no doubt," said the Quaker.
On one occasion Lord Hampstead was in the Court having a word to sayto Marion's father, or, perhaps, a word to hear. "I'm sure you'llexcuse me, my lord," said Tribbledale, following him out of theoffice.
"Oh, yes," said Hampstead, with a smile,--for he had been there oftenenough to have made some acquaintance with the junior clerk. "Ifthere be anything I can do for you, I will do it willingly."
"Only just to congratulate me, my lord. You have heard of--Crocker?"Lord Hampstead owned that he had heard of Crocker. "He has beeninterfering with me in the tenderest of parts." Lord Hampstead lookedserious. "There is a young woman"--the poor victim frowned, he knewnot why; but remitted his frown and smiled again; "who had promisedherself to me. Then that rude assailant came and upset all my joy."Here, as the narrator paused, Lord Hampstead owned to himself thathe could not deny the truth of the description. "Perhaps," continuedTribbledale,--"perhaps you have seen Clara Demijohn." Lord Hampsteadcould not remember having been so fortunate. "Because I am aware thatyour steps have wandered in the way of Paradise Row." Then there camethe frown again,--and then the smile. "Well;--perhaps it may be thata more perfect form of feminine beauty may be ascribed to another."This was intended as a compliment, more civil than true, paid toMarion Fay on Lord Hampstead's behalf. "But for a combination ofchastity and tenderness I don't think you can easily beat ClaraDemijohn." Lord Hampstead bowed, as showing his readiness to believesuch a statement coming from so good a judge. "For awhile theinterloper prevailed. Interlopers do prevail;--such is the femaleheart. But the true rock shows itself always at last. She is the truerock on which I have built the castle of my happiness."
"Then I may congratulate you, Mr. Tribbledale."
"Yes;--and not only that, my lord. But Crocker is nowhere. You mustown that there is a triumph in that. There was a time! Oh! how I feltit. There was a time when he triumphed; when he talked of 'my Clara,'as though I hadn't a chance. He's up a tree now, my lord. I thoughtI'd just tell you as you are so friendly, coming among us, here, mylord!" Lord Hampstead again congratulated him, and expressed a hopethat he might be allowed to send the bride a small present.
"Oh, my lord," said Tribbledale, "it shall go with the clock and theharmonium, and shall be the proudest moment of my life."
When Miss Demijohn heard that the salary of Pogson and Littlebird'sclerk,--she called it "Dan's screw" in speaking of the matter to heraunt,--had been raised to L160 per annum, she felt that there couldbe no excuse for a further change. Up to that moment it had seemedto her that Tribbledale had obtained his triumph by a deceit whichit still might be her duty to frustrate. He had declared positivelythat those fatal words had been actually written in the book,"Dismissal--B. B." But she had learned that the words had not beenwritten as yet. All is fair in love and war. She was not in the leastangry with Tribbledale because of his little ruse. A lie told in sucha cause was a merit. But not on that account need she be led awayby it from her own most advantageous course. In spite of the littlequarrel which had sprung up between herself and Crocker, Crocker,still belonging to Her Majesty's Civil Service, must be better thanTribbledale. But when she found that Tribbledale's statement as tothe L160 was true, and when she bethought herself that Crocker wouldprobably be dismissed sooner or later, then she determined to befirm. As to the L160, old Mrs. Demijohn herself went to the office,and learned the truth from Zachary Fay. "I think he is a good youngman," said the Quaker, "and he will do very well if he will cease tothink quite so much of himself." To this Mrs. Demijohn remarked thathalf-a-dozen babies might probably cure that fault.
So the matter was settled, and it came to pass that DanielTribbledale and Clara Demijohn were married at Holloway on that veryThursday which saw completed the alliance which had been so longarranged between the noble houses of Powell and De Hauteville. Therewere two letters written on the occasion which shall be given hereas showing the willingness to forget and forgive which marked thecharacters of the two persons. A day or two before the marriage thefollowing invitation was sent;--
DEAR SAM,--
I hope you will quite forget what is past, at any rate what was unpleasant, and come to our wedding on Thursday. There is to be a little breakfast here afterwards, and I am sure that Dan will be very happy to shake your hand. I have asked him, and he says that as he is to be the bridegroom he would be proud to have you as best man.
Your old sincere friend,
CLARA DEMIJOHN,--for the present.
The answer was as follows:--
DEAR CLARA,--
There's no malice in me. Since our little tiff I have been thinking that, after all, I'm not the man for matrimony. To sip the honey from many flowers is, perhaps, after all my l
ine of life. I should have been happy to be Dan Tribbledale's bottle-holder, but that there is another affair coming off which I must attend. Our Lady Amaldina is to be married, and I must be there. Our families have been connected, as you know, for a great many years, and I could not forgive myself if I did not see her turned off. No other consideration would have prevented me from accepting your very kind invitation.
Your loving old friend,
SAM CROCKER.
There did come a pang of regret across Clara's heart, as she readthis as to the connection of the families. Of course Crocker waslying. Of course it was an empty boast. But there was a savour ofaristocracy even in the capability of telling such a lie. Had shemade Crocker her husband she also would have been able to drag CastleHautboy into her daily conversations with Mrs. Duffer.
At the time of these weddings, the month of August, Aeolus had noteven yet come to a positive and actual decision as to Crocker's fate.Crocker had been suspended;--by which act he had been temporarilyexpelled from the office, so that his time was all his own to dowhat he pleased with it. Whether when suspended he would receive hissalary, no one knew as a certainty. The presumption was that a mansuspended would be dismissed,--unless he could succeed in explainingaway or diminishing the sin of which he had been supposed to beguilty. Aeolus himself could suspend, but it required an act on thepart of the senior officer to dismiss,--or even to deprive the sinnerof any part of his official emoluments. There had been no explanationpossible. No diminishing of the sin had been attempted. It wasacknowledged on all sides that Crocker had,--as Miss Demijohnproperly described it,--destroyed Her Majesty's Mail papers. Inorder that unpardonable delay and idleness might not be traced hometo him, he had torn into fragments a bundle of official documents.His character was so well known that no one doubted his dismissal.Mr. Jerningham had spoken of it as a thing accomplished. Bobbin andGeraghty had been congratulated on their rise in the department."Dismissal--B. B." had been recorded, if not in any official book, atany rate in all official minds. But B. B. himself had as yet decidednothing. When Crocker attended Lady Amaldina's wedding in his bestcoat and gloves he was still under suspension; but trusting to theconviction that after so long a reprieve capital punishment would notbe carried out.
Sir Boreas Bodkin had shoved the papers on one side, and, since that,nothing further had been said on the matter. Weeks had passed, butno decision had been made public. Sir Boreas was a man whom thesubordinates nearest to him did not like to remind as to any suchduty as this. When a case was "shoved on one side" it was known tobe something unpalateable. And yet, as Mr. Jerningham whispered toGeorge Roden, it was a thing that ought to be settled. "He can't comeback, you know," he said.
"I dare say he will," said the Duca.
"Impossible! I look upon it as impossible!" This Mr. Jerningham saidvery seriously.
"There are some people, you know," rejoined the other, "whose bark isso much worse than their bite."
"I know there are, Mr. Roden, and Sir Boreas is perhaps one of them;but there are cases in which to pardon the thing done seems to beperfectly impossible. This is one of them. If papers are to bedestroyed with impunity, what is to become of the Department? I forone should not know how to go on with my duties. Tearing up papers!Good Heavens! When I think of it I doubt whether I am standing on myhead or my heels."
This was very strong language for Mr. Jerningham, who was notaccustomed to find fault with the proceedings of his superiors.He went about the office all these weeks with a visage of woe andthe air of a man conscious that some great evil was at hand. SirBoreas had observed it, and knew well why that visage was so long.Nevertheless when his eyes fell on that bundle of papers,--on theCrocker bundle of papers,--he only pushed it a little further out ofsight than it was before.
Who does not know how odious a letter will become by being shovedon one side day after day? Answer it at the moment, and it will benothing. Put it away unread, or at least undigested, for a day, andit at once begins to assume ugly proportions. When you have been weakenough to let it lie on your desk, or worse again, hidden in yourbreast-pocket, for a week or ten days, it will have become an enemyso strong and so odious that you will not dare to attack it. Itthrows a gloom over all your joys. It makes you cross to your wife,severe to the cook, and critical to your own wine-cellar. It becomesthe Black Care which sits behind you when you go out a riding. Youhave neglected a duty, and have put yourself in the power of perhapssome vulgar snarler. You think of destroying it and denying it,dishonestly and falsely,--as Crocker did the mail papers. And yet youmust bear yourself all the time as though there were no load lyingnear your heart. So it was with our Aeolus and the Crocker papers.The papers had become a great bundle. The unfortunate man had beencalled upon for an explanation, and had written a blundering longletter on a huge sheet of foolscap paper,--which Sir Boreas had notread, and did not mean to read. Large fragments of the torn "mailpapers" had been found, and were all there. Mr. Jerningham hadwritten a well-worded lengthy report,--which never certainly wouldbe read. There were former documents in which the existence of thepapers had been denied. Altogether the bundle was big and unholy anddistasteful. Those who knew our Aeolus well were sure that he wouldnever even undo the tape by which the bundle was tied. But somethingmust be done. One month's pay-day had already passed since thesuspension, and the next was at hand. "Can anything be settled aboutMr. Crocker?" asked Mr. Jerningham, one day about the end of August.Sir Boreas had already sent his family to a little place he had inthe West of Ireland, and was postponing his holiday because of thishorrid matter. Mr. Jerningham could never go away till Aeolus went.Sir Boreas knew all this, and was thoroughly ashamed of himself."Just speak to me about it to-morrow and we'll settle the matter," hesaid, in his blandest voice. Mr. Jerningham retreated from the roomfrowning. According to his thinking there ought to be nothing tosettle. "D---- the fellow," said Sir Boreas, as soon as the door wasclosed; and he gave the papers another shove which sent them off thehuge table on to the floor. Whether it was Mr. Jerningham or Crockerwho was damned, he hardly knew himself. Then he was forced to stoopto the humility of picking up the bundle.
That afternoon he roused himself. About three o'clock he sent, notfor Mr. Jerningham, but for the Duca. When Roden entered the room thebundle was before him, but not opened. "Can you send for this man andget him here to-day?" he asked. The Duca promised that he would dohis best. "I can't bring myself to recommend his dismissal," he said.The Duca only smiled. "The poor fellow is just going to be married,you know." The Duca smiled again. Living in Paradise Row himself, heknew that the lady, _nee_ Clara Demijohn, was already the happy wifeof Mr. Tribbledale. But he knew also that after so long an intervalCrocker could not well be dismissed, and he was not ill-naturedenough to rob his chief of so good an excuse. He left the room,therefore, declaring that he would cause Crocker to be summonedimmediately.
Crocker was summoned, and came. Had Sir Boreas made up his mindbriefly to dismiss the man, or briefly to forgive him, the interviewwould have been unnecessary. As things now were the man could notcertainly be dismissed. Sir Boreas was aware of that. Nor could hebe pardoned without further notice. Crocker entered the room withthat mingling of the bully and the coward in his appearance which isgenerally the result when a man who is overawed attempts to show thathe is not afraid. Sir Boreas passed his fingers through the hairson each side of his head, frowned hard, and, blowing through hisnostrils, became at once the Aeolus that he had been named;
Assumes the god, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres.
"Mr. Crocker," said the god, laying his hand on the bundle of papersstill tied up in a lump. Then he paused and blew the wrath out of hisnostrils.
"Sir Boreas, no one can be more sorry for an accident than I am forthat."
"An accident!"
"Well, Sir Boreas; I am afraid I shall not make you understand itall."
"I don't think you will."
"The first paper I did tear up by accident
, thinking it was somethingdone with."
"Then you thought you might as well send the others after it."
"One or two were torn by accident. Then--"
"Well!"
"I hope you'll look it over this time, Sir Boreas."
"I have done nothing but look it over, as you call it, since you cameinto the Department. You've been a disgrace to the office. You're ofno use whatsoever. You give more trouble than all the other clerksput together. I'm sick of hearing your name."
"If you'll try me again I'll turn over a new leaf, Sir Boreas."
"I don't believe it for a moment. They tell me you're just going tobe married." Crocker was silent. Could he be expected to cut theground from under his own feet at such a moment? "For the younglady's sake, I don't like turning you adrift on the world at sucha time. I only wish that she had a more secure basis for herhappiness."
"She'll be all right," said Crocker. He will probably be thought tohave been justified in carrying on the delusion at such a crisis ofhis life.
"But you must take my assurance of this," said Aeolus, lookingmore like the god of storms, "that no wife or baby,--no joy ortrouble,--shall save you again if you again deserve dismissal."Crocker with his most affable smile thanked Sir Boreas and withdrew.It was said afterwards that Sir Boreas had seen and read that smileon Roden's face, had put two and two together in regard to him, andhad become sure that there was to be no marriage. But, had he lostthat excuse, where should he find another?
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