It Is Never Too Late to Mend — Chapter L, part 2
Through this whole narrative Robinson had coolly and delicately to curl live hair with a beating heart, and to curl the very man who was relating all the time how he had hunted him and caught his comrades.
Meantime a shrewd woman there listening with all her ears, a woman, too, who had certain vague suspicions about him, and had taken him up rather sharper than natural, he thought, when, being off his guard for a moment he anticipated the narrator, and assumed there were two burglars in the house.
Tom, therefore, though curious and anxious, shut his face and got on his guard, and it was with an admirable imitation of mere sociable curiosity that he inquired, “And what did the rascals say for themselves?
” “What could they say?
” said Jenny, “they were caught in the fact.
” “To do them justice they did not speak of themselves, but they said three or four words too--very much to the point.
” “How interesting it is!
” cried Jenny--“what about?
” “Well!
it was about your friend.
” “My friend?
” “The peaceable gentleman the two young ruffians had chased down the road.
” “Oh!
he was one of them,” said Jane, “that is plain enough now in course.
What did they say about him?
” “'Sold!'
says my one to Tom's. 'And no mistake,' says Tom's. Oh!
they spoke out, took no more notice of us four than if we had no ears.
Then says mine: 'What do you think of _your_ pal now?'
and what do you think Tom's answered, Jenny?
--it was rather a curious answer--multum in parvo as we say at school, and one that makes me fear there is a storm brewing for our mutual friend, the peaceable gentleman, Jenny--alias the downy runner.
” “Why, what did he say?
” “He said, 'I think--he won't be alive this day week!
'” “The wretches!
” “No!
you don't see--they thought he had betrayed them.
” “But, of course, you undeceived them,” said Robinson.
“No!
I didn't. Why, you precious greenhorn, was that our game?
” “Well, sir,” cried Robinson cheerfully, “any way it was a good night's work.
The only thing vexes me,” added he, with an intense air of mortification, “is that the worst scoundrel of the lot got clear off;
that is a pity--a downright pity.
” “Make your mind easy,” replied Mr. Miles calmly, “he won't escape; we shall have him before the day is out.
” “Will you, sir?
that is right--but how?
” “The honorable thingumbob, Tom Yates's friend, put us up to it.
We sent the pair down to Sydney in the break and we put Yates's groom (he is a ticket-of-leave) in with them, and a bottle of brandy, and he is to condole with them and have a guinea if they let out the third man's name, and they will--for they are bitter against him.
” Robinson sighed.
“What is the matter?
” said his master, trying to twist his head round.
“Nothing!
only I am afraid they--they won't split; fellows of that sort don't split on a comrade where they can get no good by it.
” “Well, if they don't, still we shall have him.
One of us saw his face.
” “Ah!
” “It was the honorable--the knave of trumps.
While Yates was getting the arms, Trumps slipped out by the garden gate and caught a glimpse of our friend; he saw him take the lantern up and fling it down and run.
The light fell full on his face and he could swear to it out of a thousand.
So the net is round our friend and we shall have him before the day is out.
” “Dring-a-dong-dring” (a ring at the bell).
“Have you done, Tom?
” “Just one more turn, sir.
” “Then, Jenny, you see who that is?
” Jenny went and returned with an embossed card, “It is a young gentleman--mustache and lavender gloves; oh, such a buck!
” “Who can it be?
the 'Honorable George Lascelles?'
why that is the very man.
I remember he said he would do himself the honor to call on me.
That is the knave of trumps; go down directly, Robinson, and tell him I'm at home and bring him up.
” “Yes, sir!
” “Yes, sir!
Well, then, why don't you go!
” “Um!
perhaps Jenny will go while I clear these things away;” and without waiting for an answer Robinson hastened to encumber himself with the tea-tray, and flung the loaf and curling-irons into it, and bustled about and showed a sudden zeal lest this bachelor's room should appear in disorder; and as Jenny mounted the front stairs followed by the sprig of nobility, he plunged heavily laden down the back stairs into the kitchen and off with his coat and cleaned knives like a mad thing.
“Oh!
if I had but a pound in my pocket,” thought he, “I would not stay another hour in Sydney.
I'd get my ring and run for Bathurst and never look behind me.
How comfortable and happy I was until I fell back into the old courses, and now see what a life mine has been ever since!
What a twelve hours!
hunted like a wild beast, suspected and watched by my fellow-servant and forced to hide my thoughts from this one and my face from that one; but I deserve it and I wish it was ten times as bad.
Oh!
you fool--you idiot--you brute--it is not the half of what you deserve.
I ask but one thing of Heaven--that his reverence may never know; don't let me break that good man's heart; I'd much rather die before the day is out!
” At this moment Jenny came in.
Robinson cleaned the poor knives harder still and did not speak; his cue was to find out what was passing in the girl's mind.
But she washed her cup and saucer and plates in silence.
Presently the bell rang.
“Tom!
” said Jenny quietly.
“Would you mind going, Jenny?
” “Me!
it is not my business.
” “No, Jenny!
but once in a way if you will be so kind.
” “Once!
why I have been twice to the door for you to-day.
You to your place and I to mine.
Shan't go!
” “Look at me with my coat off and covered with brickdust.
” “Put your coat on and shake the dust off.
” “Oh, Jenny!
that is not like you to refuse me such a trifle.
I would not disoblige you so.
” “I didn't refuse,” said Jenny, making for the door; “I only said 'no' once or twice--_we_ don't call that refusing;” but as she went out of the door she turned sharp as if to catch Robinson's face off its guard;
and her gray eye dwelt on him with one of those demure, inexplicable looks her sex can give all _ab extra_--seeing all, revealing nothing.
She returned with her face on fire.
“That is what I get for taking your place!
” “What is the matter?
” “That impudent young villain wanted to kiss me.
” “Oh!
is that all?
” “No!
it is not all; he said I was the prettiest girl in Sydney” (with an appearance of rising indignation).
“Well!
but, Jenny, that is no news, I could have told him that.
” “Then why did you never tell me?
” “I thought by your manner--you knew it.
” Having tried to propitiate the foe thus, Robinson lost no more time, but went upstairs and asked Mr. Miles for the trifle due to him as wages.
Mr. Miles was very sorry, but he had been cleaned out at his friend Yates's--had not a shilling left and no hopes of any for a fortnight to come.
“Then, sir,” said Robinson doggedly, “I hope you will allow me to go into the town and try and make a little for myself, just enough to pay my traveling expenses.
“By all means,” was the reply; “tell me if you succeed--and I'll borrow a sovereign of you.
” Out went Robinson into the town of Sydney.
He got into a respectable street, and knocked at a good house with a green door.
He introduced himself to the owner as a first-rate painter and engrainer, and offered to turn this door into a mahogany, walnut, oak or what-not door.
“The house is beautiful, all but the door,” said sly Tom; “it is blistered.
” “I am quite content with it as it is,” was the reply in a rude, supercilious tone.
Robinson went away discomfited; he went doggedly down the street begging them all to have their doors beautified, and wincing at every refusal.
At last he found a shopkeeper who had no objection, but doubted Robinson's capacity.
“Show me what you can do,” said he slyly, “and then I'll talk to you.
” “Send for the materials,” replied the artist, “and give me a board and I'll put half a dozen woods on the face of it.
” “And pray,” said the man, “why should I lay out my money in advertising you?
No!
you bring me a specimen, and if it is all right I'll give you the job.
” “That is a bargain,” replied Robinson, and went off.
“How hard they make honesty to a poor fellow,” muttered he bitterly, “but I'll beat them,” and he clinched his teeth.
He went to a pawnbroker and pawned the hat off his head--it was a new one; then for a halfpenny he bought a sheet of brown paper and twisted it into a workman's cap; he bought the brushes and a little paint and a little varnish, and then he was without a penny again.
He went to a wheelwright's and begged the loan of a small valueless worm-eaten board he saw kicking about, telling him what it was for.
The wealthy wheelwright eyed him with scorn.
“Should I ever see it again?
” asked he ironically.
“Keep it for your coffin,” said Robinson fiercely, and passed on.
“How hard they make honesty to a poor fellow!
I was a fool for asking for it when I might have taken it.
What was there to hinder me?
Honesty, my lass, you are bitter.
” Presently he came to the suburbs and there was a small wooden cottage.
The owner, a common laborer, was repairing it as well as he could.
Robinson asked him very timidly if he could spare a couple of square feet off a board he was sawing.
“What for?
” Robinson showed his paintpot and brushes, and told him how he was at a stand-still for want of a board.
“It is only a loan of it I ask,” said he.
The man measured the plank carefully, and after some hesitation cut off a good piece.
“I can spare that much,” said he; “poor folk should feel for one another.
” “I'll bring it back, you may depend,” said Robinson.
“You needn't trouble,” replied the laboring man with a droll wink, as much as to say, “Gammon!
” When Robinson returned to the skeptical shopkeeper with a board on which oak, satin-wood, walnut, etc. , were imitated to the life in squares, that worthy gave a start and betrayed his admiration, and Robinson asked him five shillings more than he would if the other had been more considerate.
In short, before evening the door was painted a splendid imitation of walnut-wood, the shopkeeper was enchanted, and Robinson had fifteen shillings handed over to him.
He ran and got Mr. Eden's ring out of pawn, and kissed it and put it on; next he liberated his hat.
He slept better this night than the last.
“One more such day and I shall have enough to pay my expenses to Bathurst.
” He turned, out early and went into the town.
He went into the street where he had worked last evening, and when he came near this door there was a knot of persons round it.
Robinson joined them.
Presently one of the shop-boys cried out, “Why, here he is; this is the painter!
” Instantly three or four hands were laid on Robinson.
“Come and paint my door.
” “No, come and paint mine!
” “No, mine!
” Tom had never been in such request since he was an itinerant quack.
His sly eye twinkled, and this artist put himself up to auction then and there.
He was knocked down to a tradesman in the same street--twenty-one shillings the price of this door (mock mahogany).
While he was working commissions poured in and Robinson's price rose, the demand for him being greater than the supply.
The mahogany door was really a chef-d'oeuvre.
He came home triumphant with thirty shillings in his pocket, he spread them out on the kitchen table and looked at them with a pride and a thrill of joy money never gave him before.
He had often closed the shutters and furtively spread out twice as many sovereigns, but they were only his, these shillings were his own.
And they were not only his own but his own by labor.
Each sacred shilling represented so much virtue; for industry is a virtue.
He looked at them with a father's pride.
How sweet the butter our own hands have churned!
--T.
T.
He blessed his reverend friend for having taught him an art in a dunghole where idiots and savages teach crank.
He blessed his reverence's four bones, his favorite imprecation of the benevolent kind.
I conclude the four bones meant the arms and legs.
If so it would have been more to the point had he blessed the fifth--the skull.
Jenny came in and found him gloating over his virtuous shillings.
She stared.
He told her what he had been about these two days past, his difficulties, his success, the admiration his work excited throughout the capital (he must exaggerate a little or it would not be Tom Robinson), and the wealth he was amassing.
Jenny was glad to hear this, very glad, but she scolded him well for pawning his hat.
“Why didn't you ask me?
” said she; “I would have lent you a pound or even two, or given them you for any _honest purpose_.
” And Jenny pouted and got up a little quarrel.
The next day a gentleman caught Robinson and made him paint two doors in his fancy villa.
Satin-wood this time; and he received three pounds three shillings, a good dinner, and what Bohemians all adore--Praise.
Now as he returned in the evening a sudden misgiving came to him.
“I have not thought once of Bathurst to-day.
I see--all this money-making is a contrivance to keep me in Sydney.
It is absurd my coining paint at this rate.
I see your game, my lad; either I am to fall into bad company again, or to be split upon and nabbed for that last job.
To-morrow I will be on the road to Bathurst.
I can paint there just as well as here;
besides I have got my orders from his reverence to go, and I'll go.
” He told Jane his resolution.
She made no answer.
While these two were sitting cozily by the fireside--for since Robinson took to working hard all day he began to relish the hearth at night--suddenly cheerful, boisterous voices, and Mr. Miles and two friends burst in and would have an extempore supper, and nothing else would serve these libertines but mutton-chops off the gridiron.
So they invaded the kitchen.
Out ran Jenny to avoid them--or put on a smarter cap; and Robinson was to cut the chops and lay a cloth on the dresser and help cook.
While his master went off to the cellar the two rakes who remained chattered and laughed both pretty loud.
They had dined together and the bottle had not stood still.
“I have heard that voice before,” thought Robinson.
“It is a very peculiar voice.
Whose voice is that?
” He looked the gentleman full in the face and could hardly suppress a movement of surprise.
The gentleman by the instinct of the eye caught his, and his attention was suddenly attracted to Robinson, and from that moment his eye was never off Robinson, following him everywhere.
Robinson affected not to notice this; the chops were grilling, Jenny came in and bustled about and pretended not to hear the side-compliments of the libertines.
Presently the young gentleman with the peculiar voice took out his pocketbook and said, “I have a bet to propose.
I'll bet you fifty pounds I find the man you two hunted down the road on Monday night.
” “No takers,” replied Mr. Hazeltine with his mouth full.
“Stop a bit.
I don't care if I make a time bet,” said Miles.
“How soon will you bet you catch him?
” “In half an hour,” was the cool reply.
And the Honorable George while making it managed at the same time in a sauntering sort of way to put himself between Robinson and the door that led out into the garden.
Robinson eyed him in silence and never moved.
“In half a hour.
That is a fair bet,” said Mr. Miles.
“Shall I take him?
” “Better not; he is a knowing one.
He has seen him to earth somewhere or he would not offer you such a bet.
” “Well, I'll bet you five to three,” proposed the Honorable George.
“Done!
” “Done!
” Robinson put in a hasty word: “And what is to become of Thimble-rig Jem, sir?
” These words, addressed to Mr. Lascelles, produced a singular effect.
That gentleman gave an immediate shiver, as if a bullet had passed clean through him and out again, then opened his eyes and looked first at one door then at the other as if hesitating which he should go by.
Robinson continued, addressing him with marked respect, “What I mean, sir, is that there is a government reward of two hundred pounds for Thimble-rig Jem, and the police wouldn't like to be drawn away from two hundred pounds after a poor fellow like him you saw on Monday night, one that is only suspected and no reward offered.
Now Jem is a notorious culprit.
” “Who is this Jem, my man?
What is he?
” asked Mr. Lascelles with a composure that contrasted remarkably with his late emotion.
“A convict escaped from Norfolk Island, sir; an old offender.
I fell in with him once.
He has forgotten me I dare say, but I never forget a man.
They say he has grown a mustache and whiskers and passes himself off for a nob; but I could swear to him.
” “How?
By what?
” cried Mr. Miles.
“If he should ever be fool enough to get in my way--” “Hang Thimble-rig Jem,” cried Hazeltine.
“Is it a bet, Lascelles?
” “What?
” “That you nab our one in half an hour?
” Mr. Lascelles affected an aristocratic drawl.
“No, I was joking.
I couldn't afford to leave the fire for thirty pounds.
Why should I run after the poor dayvil?
Find him yourselves.
He never annoyed me.
Got a cigar, Miles?
” After their chops, etc. , the rakes went off to finish the night elsewhere.
“There, they are gone at last!
Why, Jenny, how pale you look!
” said Robinson, not seeing the color of his own cheek.
“What is wrong?
” Jenny answered by sitting down and bursting out crying.
Tom sat opposite her with his eyes on the ground.
“Oh, what I have gone through this day!
” cried Jenny.
“Oh!
oh!
oh!
oh!
” sobbing convulsively.
What could Tom do but console her?
And she found it so agreeable to be consoled that she prolonged her distress.
An impressionable Bohemian on one side a fireplace, and a sweet, pretty girl crying on the other, what wonder that two o'clock in the morning found this pair sitting on the same side of the fire aforesaid--her hand in his?
The next morning at six o'clock Jenny was down to make his breakfast for him before starting.
If she had said, “Don't go,” it is to be feared the temptation would have been too strong, but she did not; she said sorrowfully, “You are right to leave this town.
” She never explained.
Tom never heard from her own lips how far her suspicions went.
He was a coward, and seeing how shrewd she was, was afraid to ask her; and she was one of your natural ladies who can leave a thing unsaid out of delicacy.
Tom Robinson was what Jenny called “capital company.
” He had won her admiration by his conversation, his stories of life, and now and then a song, and by his good looks and good nature.
She disguised her affection admirably until he was in danger and about to leave her--and then she betrayed herself.
If she was fire he was tow.
At last it came to this: “Don't you cry so, dear girl.
I have got a question to put to you--IF I COME BACK A BETTER MAN THAN I GO, WILL YOU BE MRS.
ROBINSON?
” “Yes.
”
