The Bunsby Papers (second series): Irish Echoes Page 14
CHAPTER I.
THE MERCHANT-PRINCE.
In the private office of a first-class store sat two individuals, eachthoroughly absorbed in his present employment, but with very differentfeelings for the work. One--it was the head of the establishment, thegreat Mr. Granite, the millionaire merchant--was simply amusinghimself, as was his usual custom at least once a day, figuring up, byrough calculation, the probable amount of his worldly possessions, theyhaving arrived at that point when the fructifying power of wealth madehourly addition to the grand total; while the other, his old andconfidential clerk, Sterling, bent assiduously over a great ledger,mechanically adding up its long columns, which constant use had enabledhim to do without the possibility of mistake. With a profound sigh ofrelief, he laid down his pen, and rubbing his cramped fingers, quietlyremarked:
"Accounts made up, sir."
"Ah, very good, Sterling," replied the stately principal, with a smile,for his arithmetical amusement was very satisfactory, "how do westand?"
"Balance in our favor, two hundred and fifty-seven thousand eighthundred and forty-seven dollars, and twenty-three cents," slowlyresponded the old clerk, reading from his abstract.
"You're certain that is correct, Mr. Sterling?" inquired themerchant-prince, in a clear, loud voice, which indicated that the old,time-worn machine was wearing out. He was so deaf that it was only byusing his hand as a conductor of the sound, that he could hearsufficiently to carry on a conversation.
"Correct to a cypher, sir," he replied. "I have been up and down thecolumns a dozen times."
"Good."
"Did you speak, sir?"
"No."
"Ah! my poor old ears," the old clerk whispered, half aside. "Five andforty years in this quiet office has put them to sleep. They'll neverwake up again, never, never."
"You have been a careful and useful assistant and friend, Sterling,"said the merchant, in a kindly tone, touching him on the shoulder withunaccustomed familiarity, "and I thank you for the great good yourservices have done the house."
"Bless you, sir, bless you--you are too good. I don't deserve it,"replied Sterling, unable to restrain the tears which this unusualdisplay of good feeling, had forced up from the poor old man's heart.
"I shall have no further need of you to-day, Sterling, if you have anybusiness of your own to transact."
"I have, I have, my good, kind friend, and thank you for granting methe opportunity," said Sterling, descending with difficulty from hisplace of torture.--Why will they not abolish those inflexible horrors,those relics of barbarism, those inquisitorial chattels--office-stools?"I'll go now, and mingle my happiness with the sweet breath ofHeaven--and yet, if I dared to say what I want--I"----
"Well, speak out, old friend." The merchant went on, with anencouraging look: "If your salary be insufficient"----
"Oh! no, no!" interposed the other, suddenly, "I am profusely paid--toomuch, indeed--but"--and he cast down his eyes hesitatingly.
"This reserve with me is foolish, Sterling. What have you to say?"
"Nothing much, sir; indeed, I hardly know how to bring it out, knowing,as I well do, your strange antipathy"---- Granite turned abruptly away.He now knew what was coming, and it was with a dark frown upon his browhe paced the office, as Sterling continued:
"I saw _him_ to-day."
"Travers?"
"Yes," replied the other, "Travers. But don't speak his name as thoughit stung you. I was his father's clerk before I was yours."
"You know what I have already done for him," moodily rejoined themerchant.
"Yes, yes--I know it was kind, very kind of you--you helped him once;but he was unsuccessful. He is young--pray, pray, spare him someassistance. You won't miss it--indeed you won't," pleaded the clerk.
"Sterling, you are a fool," Granite replied, sternly. "Every dollarlent or lost is a backward step that must be crawled up to again byinches. But I am inclined to liberality to-day. What amount do youthink will satisfy this spendthrift?"
"Well, since your kindness emboldens me to speak--it's no use patchingup a worn coat, so even let him have a new one--give him anotherchance--a few hundred dollars, more or less, can't injure you, and maybe his salvation. About five thousand dollars will suffice."
"Five thousand dollars! are you mad, Sterling?" cried the merchant,starting to his feet in a paroxysm of anger.
"Your son will have his half a million to begin with," quietlysuggested Sterling.
"He will, he will!" cried the other, with a strange, proud light in hiseye, for upon that son all his earthly hopes, and haply those beyondthe earth, were centered. "Wealth is power, and he will havesufficient; he can lift his head amongst the best and proudest; he canwag his tongue amongst the highest in the land--eh, my old friend?"
"That can he, indeed, sir, and be ashamed of neither head nor tongue,for he's a noble youth," replied the clerk.
"Here, take this check, Sterling. I'll do as you wish this time; butmind it is the last. I have no right to injure, even in the remotestdegree, my son's interests, of which I am simply the guardian. You cangive it to--to--_him_, and with this positive assurance."
"Bless you--this is like you--this is noble, princely," murmured theold clerk, through his tears, which now were flowing unrestrainedly;"when I tell"----
"Hold! repeat his name again, and I recall the loan. I repent alreadyof having been entrapped into this act of folly."
"You wrong your own liberal nature," said Sterling, mildly. "You aregoodness itself, and fear not but you will receive your rewardfour-fold for all you have done for"----
"Away, you prating fool," cried Granite, in a tone that hurried the oldclerk out of the office, full of gratitude for the service done, and ofunaffected joy, that Providence had selected him to be the bearer ofsuch happy intelligence to the son of his old employer.
Meantime, the merchant-prince flung himself into his comfortableeasy-chair, a spasm of agony passing across his harsh features. "Oh!Travers, Travers!" he inly ejaculated, "must that black thought everthrust itself like a grim shadow across the golden sun-ray of myprosperity?"