He gave me a quick side-glance of mingled incredulity and depreciation.
Well, well! he finally observed, you are a little quixotic. Will you come on to my club and dine with me?
I refused this invitation promptly. I knew my wretched plight, and pride false pride if you will rose up to my rescue. I bade him a hurried good-day, and started back to my lodging, carrying my rejected manuscript with me. Arrived there, my landlady met me, and asked me whether I would kindly settle accounts the next day. She spoke civilly enough, and not without a certain compassionate hesitation in her manner. Her evident pity for me galled my spirit as much as the publishers offer of a dinner had wounded my pride. I at once promised her the money at the time she herself appointed, though I had not the least idea where or how I should get the required sum.
When I was in my room, I flung my useless manuscript on the floor and myself into a chair, and swore. It refreshed me, and it seemed natural. A fierce formidable oath was to me the sort of physical relief. I was incapable of talking to God in my despair. To speak frankly, I did not believe in any God then. Of course I knew the Christian faith; but that creed became useless to me. Spiritually I was adrift in chaos.
I had worked honestly and patiently; all to no purpose. I knew of rogues who gained plenty of money; and of knaves who were amassing large fortunes. Their prosperity proved that honesty after all was not the best policy. What should I do then?
The night was bitter cold. My hands were numbed, and I tried to warm them at the oil-lamp my landlady was good enough to allow me, in spite of delayed cash-payments. As I did so, I noticed three letters on the table. One in a long blue envelope, one with the Melbourne postmark, and the third a thick square missive coroneted in red and gold at the back. I turned over all three indifferently. Selecting the one from Australia, balanced it in my hand a moment before opening it. I knew from whom it came, and wondered what news it brought me. Some months previously I had written a detailed account of my increasing debts and difficulties to an old college friend. Finding England too narrow for his ambition that friend had gone out to the New world. He was getting on well, so I understood. I had therefore ventured to ask him for the loan of fifty pounds. Here, no doubt, was his reply, and I hesitated before breaking the seal.
Of course it will be a refusal, I said, However kindly a friend may otherwise be, he soon turns crusty if asked to lend money. He will express many regrets, accuse trade and the general bad times and hope I will soon get better. I know the sort of thing.
But as I opened the envelope, a bill for fifty pounds fell out upon the table. My heart gave a quick bound of mingled relief and gratitude.
My old fellow, I wronged you! I exclaimed, Your heart is great indeed!
I eagerly read his letter. It was not very long,
Dear Geoff,
Im sorry to hear you are down. It shows that fools are still flourishing in London, when a man of your capability cannot gain his proper place in the world of letters. I believe its all a question of intrigues, and money is the only thing that will pull the intrigues. Heres the fifty you ask for, dont hurry about paying it back. I am sending you a friend, a real friend! He brings you a letter of introduction from me, and between ourselves, old man, you cannot do better than put yourself and your literary affairs entirely in his hands. He knows everybody, he is a great philanthropist and seems particularly fond of the society of the clergy. He has explained to me quite frankly, that he is so enormously wealthy that he does not know what to do with his money. He is always glad to know of some places where his money and influence (he is very influential) may be useful to others. He has helped me out of a very serious hobble, and I owe him a big debt of gratitude. Ive told him all about you, what a smart fellow you are, and he has promised to give you a lift up. He can do anything he likes. Use him, and write and let me know how you get on. Dont bother about the fifty.
Ever yours
Boffles.I laughed as I read the absurd signature. Boffles was the nickname given to my friend by several of our college companions, and neither he nor I knew how it first arose. But no one except ever addressed him by his proper name, which was John Carrington. He was simply Boffles, and Boffles he remained even now for all those who had been his intimates. I wondered as to what manner of man the philanthropist might be who had more money than he knew what to do with. Anyway, now I can pay my landlady as I promised. Moreover I can order some supper, and have a fire lit to cheer my chilly room.
I opened the long blue envelope, and unfolded the paper within, stared at it amazedly. What was it all about? The written characters danced before my eyes. Puzzled and bewildered, I found myself reading the thing over and over again without any clear comprehension of it. No no! impossible! If it is a joke, it is a very elaborate and remarkable one!
2
With an effort, I read every word of the document deliberately, and the stupefaction of my wonder increased. Was I going mad, or sickening for a fever? Can this startling, this stupendous information be really true? If it is true, I am king instead of beggar! The letter, the amazing letter, bore the printed name of a well-known firm of London solicitors. It stated in precise terms that a distant relative of my fathers, of whom I had scarcely heard, had died suddenly in South America, leaving me his sole heir.
The real and personal estate[8] now amounting to something over five millions of pounds sterling, we should esteem it a favour if you could make it convenient to call upon us any day this week in order that we may go through the necessary formalities together. The larger bulk of the cash is lodged in the Bank of England, and a considerable amount is placed in French government securities.
Trusting you will call on us without delay, we are, Sir, yours obediently
Five millions! I, the starving literary hack, the friendless, hopeless, almost reckless haunter of low newspaper dens, I, the possessor of over five millions of pounds sterling! The fact seemed to me a wild delusion, born of the dizzy vagueness which lack of food engendered in my brain. I stared round the room. The mean miserable furniture, the fireless grate, the dirty lamp, the low truckle bedstead, and then, then the overwhelming contrast between the poverty that environed me and the news I had just received, struck me as the wildest, most ridiculous incongruity I had ever heard of or imagined.
Was there ever such a caprice of mad Fortune! I cried aloud. Who would have imagined it! Good God!
And I laughed loudly again; laughed just as I had previously sworn, simply by way of relief to my feelings. Some one laughed in answer. A laugh that seemed to echo mine. I checked myself abruptly, somewhat startled, and listened. Rain poured outside, and the wind shrieked like a petulant shrew. The violinist next door was practising a brilliant roulade up and down his instrument. Yet I could have sworn I heard a mans laughter close behind me where I stood.
It must have been my fancy; I murmured, turning the flame of the lamp up higher in order to obtain more light in the room. I am nervous I suppose, no wonder! Poor Boffles! Good old fellow! I continued, remembering my friends draft for fifty pounds. What a surprise for you! You will have your loan back as promptly as you sent it, with an extra fifty added for your generosity. And as for the rich friend you are sending to help me over my difficulties, well, he may be a very excellent old gentleman, but he will find himself quite useless this time. I want neither assistance nor advice nor patronage. I can buy them all! Titles, honours, possessions, they are all purchaseable, love, friendship, position, they are all for sale in this admirably commercial age! The wealthy philanthropist will find it difficult to match me in power[9]! He will scarcely have more than five millions to waste, I think! And now for supper, I shall have to live on credit till I get some cash. And there is no reason why I should not leave this wretched hole at once, and go to one of the best hotels!