A Spirit of Avarice

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by W. W. Jacobs

even thepurblind committee of the Camels had to alter their views. They nolonger denied the supernatural nature of the manifestations, but, witha strange misunderstanding of Mr. Blows's desires, attributed hisrestlessness to dissatisfaction with the projected tombstone, and, havingplenty of funds, amended their order for a plain stone at ten guineas toone in pink marble at twenty-five.

  "That there committee," said Mr. Blows to his wife, in a trembling voice,as he heard of the alteration--"that there committee seem to think thatthey can play about with my money as they like. You go and tell 'em youwon't 'ave it. And say you've given up the idea of going to Australiaand you want the money to open a shop with. We'll take a little pubsomewhere."

  Mrs. Blows went, and returned in tears, and for two entire days herhusband, a prey to gloom, sat trying to evolve fresh and original ideasfor the possession of the money. On the evening of the second day hebecame low-spirited, and going down to the kitchen took a glass from thedresser and sat down by the beer-cask.

  Almost insensibly he began to take a brighter view of things. It wasSaturday night and his wife was out. He shook his head indulgently as hethought of her, and began to realise how foolish he had been to entrustsuch a delicate mission to a woman. The Ancient Order of Camels wanted aman to talk to them--a man who knew the world and could assail them withunanswerable arguments. Having applied every known test to make surethat the cask was empty, he took his cap from a nail and sallied out intothe street.

  Old Mrs. Martin, a neighbour, saw him first, and announced the fact witha scream that brought a dozen people round her. Bereft of speech, shemouthed dumbly at Mr. Blows.

  "I ain't touch--touched her," said that gentleman, earnestly. "I ain't--been near 'er."

  The crowd regarded him wild-eyed. Fresh members came running up, andpushing for a front place fell back hastily on the main body and watchedbreathlessly. Mr. Blows, disquieted by their silence, renewed hisprotestations.

  "I was coming 'long----"

  He broke off suddenly and, turning round, gazed with some heat at agentleman who was endeavouring to ascertain whether an umbrella wouldpass through him. The investigator backed hastily into the crowd again,and a faint murmur of surprise arose as the indignant Mr. Blows rubbedthe place.

  "He's alive, I tell you," said a voice. "What cheer, Jack!"

  "Ullo, Bill," said Mr. Blows, genially.

  Bill came forward cautiously, and, first shaking hands, satisfied himselfby various little taps and prods that his friend was really alive.

  "It's all right," he shouted; "come and feel."

  At least fifty hands accepted the invitation, and, ignoring the threatsand entreaties of Mr. Blows, who was a highly ticklish subject, wanderedbriskly over his anatomy. He broke free at last and, supported by Billand a friend, set off for the Peal o' Bells.

  By the time he arrived there his following had swollen to immenseproportions. Windows were thrown up, and people standing on theirdoorsteps shouted inquiries. Congratulations met him on all sides, andthe joy of Mr. Joseph Carter was so great that Mr. Blows was quiteaffected.

  In high feather at the attention he was receiving, Mr. Blows pushed hisway through the idlers at the door and ascended the short flight ofstairs which led to the room where the members of the Ancient Order ofCamels were holding their lodge. The crowd swarmed up after him.

  The door was locked, but in response to his knocking it opened a coupleof inches, and a gruff voice demanded his business. Then, before hecould give it, the doorkeeper reeled back into the room, and Mr. Blowswith a large following pushed his way in.

  The president and his officers, who were sitting in state behind a longtable at the end of the room, started to their feet with mingled cries ofindignation and dismay at the intrusion. Mr. Blows, conscious of thestrength of his position, walked up to them.

  "Mr. Blows, conscious of the strength of his position,walked up to them."]

  "Mr. Blows!" gasped the president.

  "Ah, you didn't expec' see me," said Mr. Blows, with a scornful laugh"They're trying do me, do me out o' my lill bit o' money, Bill."

  "But you ain't got no money," said his bewildered friend.

  Mr. Blows turned and eyed him haughtily; then he confronted the staringpresident again.

  "I've come for--my money," he said, impressively-- "one 'under-eightypounds."

  "But look 'ere," said the scandalised Bill, tugging at his sleeve; "youain't dead, Jack."

  "You don't understan'," said Mr. Blows, impatiently. "They know wharrimean; one 'undereighty pounds. They want to buy me a tombstone, an' Idon't want it. I want the money. Here, stop it! _Dye hear?_" The wordswere wrung from him by the action of the president, who, after eyeing himdoubtfully during his remarks, suddenly prodded him with the butt-end ofone of the property spears which leaned against his chair. The solidityof Mr. Blows was unmistakable, and with a sudden resumption of dignitythe official seated himself and called for silence.

  "I'm sorry to say there's been a bit of a mistake made," he said, slowly,"but I'm glad to say that Mr. Blows has come back to support his wife andfamily with the sweat of his own brow. Only a pound or two of the moneyso kindly subscribed has been spent, and the remainder will be handedback to the subscribers."

  "Here," said the incensed Mr. Blows, "listen me."

  "Take him away," said the president, with great dignity. "Clear theroom. Strangers outside."

  Two of the members approached Mr. Blows and, placing their hands on hisshoulders, requested him to withdraw. He went at last, the centre of adozen panting men, and becoming wedged on the narrow staircase, spokefluently on such widely differing subjects as the rights of man and theshape of the president's nose.

  He finished his remarks in the street, but, becoming aware at last of astrange lack of sympathy on the part of his audience, he shook off thearm of the faithful Mr. Carter and stalked moodily home.

 


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