"No, Jeremiah; it is in the Post-office Savings-bank."
"Curse it! You can't get it out to-day. What's the good of it when I want it now this very minute?"
"What for, Jeremiah?"
"That's my business. Go on about the old thief. He pretended to be very sweet, did he, and tried to pump you? What's that?"
He clutched his mother, shaking like one in an ague. They were in a narrow lane, and a boy in their rear had uttered a loud shout, and had thrown a stone at a bird. The boy ran on, and the colour returned to Jeremiah's face.
"Jeremiah!" whispered Mrs. Pamflett.
"Well?"
"You have been doing something wrong. You are in trouble."
"Yes, I am in trouble. I have been robbed swindled tricked and ruined by a damned scoundrel. If I had him here now, in this quiet lane, with no one near, his life wouldn't be worth a moment's purchase. There, the murder's out! What did I say?"
"You said, 'the murder's out.'"
"Did I?" he exclaimed, with a nervous laugh. "Murder, eh? Well, if it's my life against another man's "
"Is it as bad as that, Jeremiah?"
"It is. I am in a fearful hole, and I must get out of it. Look here, mother. Ever since I was born you've been drumming in my ears that you cared for nothing in the world but me, that you lived only for me, that you loved no one but me, that you would do anything for me never mind what anything, anything! Is it true, or a lie?"
"It is true, Jeremiah," said Mrs. Pamflett, her thin lips set, but slightly parted, and her eyes glittering like cold steel. "If you're in danger, you must get out of it. If I can help you to get out
of it, you have only to show me the way. You don't know what a woman like me what a mother like me is capable of. I will show you. A scoundrel has ruined you, and something must be done to save you. I understand; I understand. Whatever it is, if it is for me to do it, I am ready. I have never spoken one false word to you, and I won't say one word to you now to reproach you for not having confided in me before to-day. If you had made your fortune I was to share it. You are in trouble now, and I will share it. Give me a kiss, and say you love me!"
"I should be a beast if I didn't," said Jeremiah, kissing her. "You're something like a mother!"
"Jeremiah, if that venomous wretch Phœbe Farebrother had married you, would you be in danger now?"
"No; there would be nothing to trouble me if she hadn't rounded on me. I shouldn't have been compelled to do what I have done."
"Ah! She called you a reptile, and I am your mother. Oh, to be even with her to be even with her!"
Half an hour afterward Jeremiah Pamflett was in the presence of Miser Farebrother. The miser received his managing clerk with more than graciousness; there was even cordiality in his manner, and had Jeremiah's usually clear mind not been unbalanced by the threatening clouds which hung above him, this apparently favourable demeanour would have rendered him suspicious, and put him on his guard. Experience had taught him that there was always mischief in the wind when Miser Farebrother's words were smooth and fair.
"I sent a telegram for you, Jeremiah," said Miser Farebrother.
"Yes, sir," said Jeremiah; "my mother told me so. Fortunately I was on my way to you."
"You have brought the books with you?"
"Here they are, sir."
"You anticipate my wishes, Jeremiah. What master was ever served as I am served by you so conscientiously, so faithfully! Is the bank-book here? Yes, yes; I see it is. We will go into the accounts presently. Before I sent for you, Jeremiah, I was in great pain, and feared I had not long to live. That kind of feeling makes a man sad it unsettles him, and he is apt to repine at the hard fate which seems determined to snatch him from all the joys of life. I have not had many of them, and the consolation I had looked forward to in your contemplated union with my ungrateful child has been denied me. You look tired, Jeremiah. Doubtless you have been up late at night, attending to correspondence connected with the business, and running through the accounts."
"I have been working very hard," said Jeremiah.
"That is it. When I did the work myself I also used to sit up night after night poring over the books. An anxious mind, Jeremiah an anxious mind. And you resemble me oh, how you resemble me! What does a late night now and then matter to the young and strong? They can bear it; it leaves no ill effects behind. I could bear it once; I was once young and strong as you are; I was once filled with hope and enthusiasm. And now, look at me. I am a wreck, a feeble wreck, scarcely able to contend with an infant. My strength gone, my hope and enthusiasm gone, my confidence gone in every being in the world with the exception of you and your mother. No reward can be too great for service so faithful! You are affected. I thank you, Jeremiah I thank you! That sympathizing look, those genuine tears, testify to the friendship you bear toward me."
In point of fact, Jeremiah had taken his handkerchief from his pocket and had dabbed his forehead with it, and it was this action which Miser Farebrother chose to construe into an exhibition of sympathy. Jeremiah's face was damp with perspiration; he was bewildered by the flow of words which fell like honey from the miser's lips; bewildered also by the presence of the master he had wronged and robbed, of the man who held his fate in his hands. Lying back in his chair, Miser Farebrother seemed to have scarcely an hour's life in him; his strength seemed to be ebbing away, and death to be fast approaching. What if he were to die there, within the hour, while Jeremiah was in the room? Then all would be well. He could obtain possession of the valueless bracelet; he could obtain possession of the hoards of money which Miser Farebrother had put in some secret place, which, the miser dead, Jeremiah and his mother would have little difficulty in finding. Yes; then all would be well. Before he had presented himself to his master, he had confided to his mother all the particulars of the danger which threatened him, and they had debated what had best be done. His mother had said, "If Miser Farebrother were out of the way," and then had paused. If Miser Farebrother were out of the way! That is, if he were dead! Yes; if he were dead! "What then?" Jeremiah had asked, after a terrible silence, during