CHAPTER IX.
SHOWING HOW MR. ROBINSON WAS EMPLOYED ON THE OPENING DAY.
"Et tu, Brute?" were the words with which Mr. Brown was greeted atsix o'clock in the morning on that eventful day, when, at early dawn,he met his young partner at Magenta House. He had never studied thehistory of Caesar's death, but he understood the reproach as well asany Roman ever did.
"It was your own doing, George," he said. "When she was swore at inthat way, and when you went away and left her--."
"It was she went away and left me."
"'Father,' said she when she came back, 'I shall put myself under theprotection of Mr. William Brisket.' What was I to do then? And whenhe came himself, ten minutes afterwards, what was I to say to him? Afather is a father, George; and one's children is one's children."
"And they are to be married?"
"Not quite at once, George."
"No. The mercenary slaughterer will reject that fair hand at last,unless it comes to him weighted with a money-bag. From whence are tocome those five hundred pounds without which William Brisket will notallow your daughter to warm herself at his hearthstone?"
"As Jones has got the partnership, George, Maryanne's husband shouldhave something."
"Ah, yes! It is I, then,--I, as one of the partners of this house,who am to bestow a dowry upon her who has injured me, and make happythe avarice of my rival! Since the mimic stage first represented theactions of humanity, no such fate as that has ever been exhibited asthe lot of man. Be it so. Bring hither the cheque-book. That handthat was base enough to renounce her shall, with the same pen, writethe order for the money."
"No, George, no," said Mr. Brown. "I never meant to do that. Let himhave it--out of the profits."
"Ha!"
"I said in a month,--if things went well. Of course, I meant,--wellenough."
"But they'll lead you such a life as never man passed yet. Maryanne,you know, can be bitter; very bitter."
"I must bear it, George. I've been a-bearing a long while, and I'mpartly used to it. But, George, it isn't a pleasure to me. It isn't apleasure to a poor old father to be nagged at by his daughters fromhis very breakfast down to his very supper. And they comes to mesometimes in bed, nagging at me worse than ever."
"My heart has often bled for you, Mr. Brown."
"I know it has, George; and that's why I've loved you and trustedyou. And now you won't quarrel with me, will you, though I have alittle thrown you over like?"
What was Robinson to say? Of course he forgave him. It was in hisnature to forgive; and he would even have forgiven Maryanne at thatmoment, had she come to him and asked him. But she was asleep in herbed, dreaming, perchance, of that big Philistine whom she had chosenas her future lord. A young David, however, might even yet arise, whoshould smite that huge giant with a stone between the eyes.
Then did Mr. Brown communicate to his partner those arrangements asto grouping which his younger daughter had suggested for the openingof the house. When Robinson first heard that Maryanne intended to bethere, he declared his intention of standing by her side, though hewould not deign even to look her in the face. "She shall see that shehas no power over me, to make me quail," he said. And then he wastold that Brisket also would be there; Maryanne had begged the favourof him, and he had unwillingly consented. "It is hard to bear," saidRobinson, "very hard. But it shall be borne. I do not remember everto have heard of the like."
"He won't come often, George, you may be sure."
"That I should have planned these glories for him! Well, well; be itso. What is the pageantry to me? It has been merely done to catch thebutterflies, and of these he is surely the largest. I will sit aloneabove, and work there with my brain for the service of the firm,while you below are satisfying the eyes of the crowd."
And so it had been, as was told in that chapter which was devoted tothe opening day of the house. Robinson had sat alone in the very roomin which he had encountered Brisket, and had barely left his seatfor one moment when the first rush of the public into the shop hadmade his heart leap within him. There the braying of the horn inthe street, and the clatter of the armed horsemen on the pavement,and the jokes of the young boys, and the angry threatenings of thepolicemen, reached his ears. "It is well," said he; "the ball hasbeen set a-rolling, and the work that has been well begun is alreadyhalf completed. When once the steps of the unthinking crowd havehabituated themselves to move hither-ward, they will continue to comewith the constancy of the tide, which ever rolls itself on the samestrand." And then he tasked himself to think how that tide shouldbe made always to flow,--never to ebb. "They must be brought here,"said he, "ever by new allurements. When once they come, it is only inaccordance with the laws of human nature that they should leave theirmoney behind them." Upon that, he prepared the words for anothercard, in which he begged his friends, the public of the city, tocome to Magenta House, as friends should come. They were invited tosee, and not to buy. The firm did not care that purchases should bemade thus early in their career. Their great desire was that thearrangements of the establishment should be witnessed before anyconsiderable portion of the immense stock had been moved for thepurpose of retail sale. And then the West End public were especiallyrequested to inspect the furs which were being collected for theanticipated sale of the next winter. It was as he wrote these wordsthat he heard that demand for the African monkey muff, and heard alsoMr. Jones's discreet answer. "Yes," said he to himself; "before wehave done, ships shall come to us from all coasts; real ships. FromTyre and Sidon, they shall come; from Ophir and Tarshish, from theEast and from the West, and from the balmy southern islands. Howsweet will it be to be named among the Merchant Princes of this greatcommercial nation!" But he felt that Brown and Jones would never beMerchant Princes, and he already looked forward to the day when hewould be able to emancipate himself from such thraldom.
It has been already said that a considerable amount of business wasdone over the counter on the first day, but that the sum of moneytaken was not as great as had been hoped. That this was caused by Mr.Brown's injudicious mode of going to work, there could be no doubt.He had filled the shelves of the shop with cheap articles for whichhe had paid, and had hesitated in giving orders for heavy amountsto the wholesale houses. Such orders had of course been given, andin some cases had been given in vain; but quite enough of them hadbeen honoured to show what might have been done, had there been nohesitation. "As a man of capital, I must object," he had said to Mr.Robinson, only a week before the house was opened. "I wish I couldmake you understand that you have no capital." "I would I coulddivest you of the idea and the money too," said Robinson. But it wasall of no use. A domestic fowl that has passed all its days at abarn-door can never soar on the eagle's wing. Now Mr. Brown was thedomestic fowl, while the eagle's pinion belonged to his youngestpartner. By whom in that firm the kite was personified, shall nothere be stated.
Brisket on that day soon left the shop; but as Maryanne Brownremained there, Robinson did not descend among the throng. There wasno private door to the house, and therefore he was forced to walk outbetween the counters when he went to his dinner. On that occasion,he passed close by Miss Brown, and met that young lady's eye withoutquailing. She looked full upon him: and then, turning her face roundto her sister, tittered with an air of scorn.
"I think he's been very badly used," said Sarah Jane.
"And who has he got to blame but his own want of spirit?" said theother. This was spoken in the open shop, and many of the young menand women heard it. Robinson, however, merely walked on, raising hishat, and saluting the daughters of the senior partner. But it must beacknowledged that such remarks as that greatly aggravated the miseryof his position.
It was on the evening of that day, when he was about to leave theestablishment for the night, that he heard a gentle creeping step onthe stairs, and presently Mrs. Jones presented herself in the room inwhich he was sitting. Now if there was any human fellow-creature onthe face of this earth whom George Robinson had brought himself
tohate, that human fellow-creature was Sarah Jane Jones. Jones himselfhe despised, but his feeling towards Mrs. Jones was stronger thancontempt. To him it was odious that she should be present in thehouse at all, and he had obtained from her father a direct promisethat she should not be allowed to come behind the counters after thistheir opening day.
"George," she said, coming up to him, "I have come upstairs because Iwish to have a few words with you private."
"Will you take a chair?" said he, placing one for her. One is boundto be courteous to a lady, even though that lady be a harpy.
"George," she again began,--she had never called him "George" before,and he felt himself sorely tempted to tell her that his name was Mr.Robinson. "George, I've brought myself to look upon you quite as abrother-in-law, you know."
"Have you?" said he. "Then you have done me an honour that does notbelong to me,--and never will."
"Now don't say that, George. If you'll only bring yourself to show alittle more spirit to Maryanne, all will be right yet."
What was she that she should talk to him about spirit? In these daysthere was no subject which was more painful to him than that ofpersonal courage. He was well aware that he was no coward. He feltwithin himself an impulse that would have carried him through anydanger of which the result would not have been ridiculous. He couldhave led a forlorn hope, or rescued female weakness from the fangs ofdevouring flames. But he had declined,--he acknowledged to himselfthat he had declined,--to be mauled by the hands of an angry butcher,who was twice his size. "One has to keep one's own path in theworld," he had said to himself; "but, nevertheless, one avoids achimney-sweeper. Should I have gained anything had I allowed thathuge monster to hammer at me?" So he had argued. But, though he hadthus argued, he had been angry with himself, and now he could notbear to be told that he had lacked spirit.
"That is my affair," he replied to her. "But those about me will findthat I do not lack spirit when I find fitting occasion to use it."
"No; I'm sure they won't. And now's the time, George. You're notgoing to let that fellow Brisket run off with Maryanne from beforeyour eyes."
"He's at liberty to run anywhere for me."
"Now, look here, George. I know you're fond of her."
"No. I was once; but I've torn her from my heart."
"That's nonsense, George. The fact is, the more she gives herselfairs and makes herself scarce and stiff to you, the more precious youthink her." Ignorant as the woman was of almost everything, she didknow something of human nature.
"I shall never trouble myself about her again," said he.
"Oh, yes, you will; and make her Mrs. Robinson before you've done.Now, look here, George; that fellow Brisket won't have her, unless hegets the money."
"It's nothing to me," said Robinson.
"And where's the money to come from, if not out of the house? Now,you and Jones has your rights as partners, and I do hope you and hewon't let the old man make off with the capital of the firm in thatway. If he gives Brisket five hundred pounds,--and there isn't muchmore left--"
"I'll tell you what, Mrs. Jones;--he may give Brisket five thousandpounds as far as I am concerned. Whatever Mr. Brown may do in thatway, I shan't interfere to prevent him."
"You shan't!"
"It's his own money, and, as far as George Robinson is concerned--"
"His own money, and he in partnership with Jones! Not a penny of itis his own, and so I'll make them understand. As for you, you are thesoftest--"
"Never mind me, Mrs. Jones."
"No; I never will mind you again. Well, to be sure! And you'd standby and see the money given away in that way to enable the man youhate to take away the girl you love! Well, I never--. They did sayyou was faint-hearted, but I never thought to see the like of that ina thing that called itself a man." And so saying, she took herselfoff.
--"It cannot be, But I am pigeon-livered, and lack gall, To make oppression bitter,"
said Robinson, rising from his seat, and slapping his forehead withhis hand; and then he stalked backwards and forwards through thesmall room, driven almost to madness by the misery of his position."I am not splenetic and rash," he said; "yet have I something in medangerous. I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand Briskets could not, withall their quantities of love, make up my sum."
At this time Mr. Brown still lived at the house in Smithfield. It wasintended that he should move to Bishopsgate Street as soon as theupper rooms could be made ready for him, but the works had hithertobeen confined to the shop. On this, the night of the opening day,he intended to give a little supper to his partners; and Robinson,having promised to join it, felt himself bound to keep his word."Brisket will not be there?" he asked, as he walked across FinsburySquare with the old man. "Certainly not," said Mr. Brown; "I neverthought of asking him." And yet, when they reached the house, Brisketwas already seated by the fire, superintending the toasting of thecheese, as though he were one of the family. "It's not my doing,George; indeed, it's not," whispered Mr. Brown, as they entered thesitting-room of the family.
Brisket makes himself useful.]
That supper-party was terrible to Robinson, but he bore it allwithout flinching. Jones and his wife were there, and so also, ofcourse, was Maryanne. Her he had seen at the moment of his entry,sitting by with well-pleased face, while her huge lover put butterand ale into the frying-pan. "Why, Sarah Jane," she said, "I declarehe's quite a man cook. How useful he would be about a house!"
"Oh, uncommon," said Sarah Jane. "And you mean to try before long,don't you, Mr. Brisket?"
"You must ask Maryanne about that," said he, raising his great redface from the fire, and putting on the airs and graces of a thrivinglover.
"Don't ask me anything," said Maryanne, "for I won't answer anything.It's nothing to me what he means to try."
"Oh, ain't it, though," said Brisket. And then they all sat downto supper. It may be imagined with what ease Robinson listened toconversation such as this, and with what appetite he took his seat atthat table.
"Mr. Robinson, may I give you a little of this cheese?" saidMaryanne. What a story such a question told of the heartlessness,audacity, and iron nerves of her who asked it! What power, and atthe same time what cruelty, there must have been within that lacedbodice, when she could bring herself to make such an offer!
"By all means," said Robinson, with equal courage. The morsel wasthen put upon his plate, and he swallowed it. "I would he hadpoisoned it," said he to himself. "With what delight would I thenpartake of the dish, so that he and she partook of it with me!"
The misery of that supper-party will never be forgotten. Had Brisketbeen Adonis himself, he could not have been treated with softercourtesies by those two harpies; and yet, not an hour ago, SarahJane Jones had been endeavouring to raise a conspiracy against hishopes. What an ass will a man allow himself to become under suchcircumstances! There sat the big butcher, smirking and smiling,ever and again dipping his unlovely lips into a steaming beaker ofbrandy-and-water, regarding himself as triumphant in the courts ofVenus. But that false woman who sat at his side would have sold himpiecemeal for money, as he would have sold the carcase of a sheep.
"You do not drink, George," said Mr. Brown.
"It does not need," said Robinson; and then he took his hat and wenthis way.
On that night he swore to himself that he would abandon her for ever,and devote himself to commerce and the Muses. It was then that hecomposed the opening lines of a poem which may yet make his namefamous wherever the English language is spoken:--
The golden-eyed son of the Morning rushed down the wind like a trumpet, His azure locks adorning with emeralds fresh from the ocean.
The Struggles of Brown, Jones, and Robinson Page 9
