ia Kwm^fm^r? rivjofc.^ A-'^^-rfff^V^isgo^ BEKTRAND ACRES OH L - 14 MkCirtC AV1NU1 UONO BEACH. CALfF. University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. ttVU SEP 119B8 I L u-. Jfc . THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY BY E. LIVINGSTON PRESCOTT NEW YORK HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 1896 Copyright, 1895, by HARPER & BROTHERS. All rights reserved. CONTENTS CHAP. PACK I. A MAN OF SIN I II. HIS AFFECTIONATE FRIEND II III. A SORT OF ISHMAEL 21 IV. A STRANGE INSPIRATION 31 V. THE PLEASURES OF RESPECTABILITY . .> . . 41 vi. THE DOCTOR'S ADMONITION 53 VII. THE HAWK IN THE DOVE'S NEST 62 VIII. A RANK IMPOSTOR 72 IX. AN UNPLEASANT EXODUS 82 X. ADRIFT 93 XI. SONG OF THE SIRENS IOI XII. IT WAS THE BODY OF A MAN 112 xiii. "i AM DR. MACADAM'S TONIC" 121 XIV. "I INTEND TO DISAPPEAR" 139 XV. THE FIRST PLUNGE 146 xvi. MR. TYRAWLEY'S MENTOR 158 xvii. "THE COVE TO SOAP 'EM DOWN" .... 169 XVIII. THE HERO OF A STREET FIGHT 187 XIX. A BUSINESS BANQUET 193 XX. HUNTED DOWN 2O7 XXI. THAT LITTLE VIPER 2ig XXII. NEMESIS AND EXCELSIOR 232 20463S3 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY CHAPTER I A MAN OF SIN MR. TYRAWLEY was down on his luck. He wore beautiful clothes; he was peculiarly hand- some, having a pure Greek profile, deep blue eyes, which expressed sentiments at present unknown to their possessor, a heavy chestnut mustache and chestnut hair, whose hyacinthine waves conventional cropping could not alto- gether efface; the figure of an athlete of six feet, and the complexion of a delicate girl. But all these advantages had so far failed to assure to their owner any prospect of dinner, and his breakfast had been slight. So he was depressed, bit his mustache in the absence of any thing else to bite, and envied a stout artisan who sat eating hot beefsteak-pudding out of a yellow basin, just brought him by his wife, and flinging bits of bread to the sea- gulls flying round. The place was the pier at Claretown, on a stormy, sunny, breezy day; the hour 12.30, the season autumn. There was the usual crowd of 2 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY promenaders on the esplanade and pier; and a very few benighted individuals, leaving the gay throng, had descended among the timbers at the lower end of the ladder, with lines and bait, and an impression that they could catch fish. Now, Mr. Tyrawley had outlived all illusions; therefore, when he descended among these dreamers, it was only that he might escape at once from the beefsteak-pudding and his own large circle of unprofitable acquaintances. He leaned in an ill-tempered way against a great black beam and smoked; for people will give you tobacco who will not ask you to dinner; and tobacco deadens one sort of sickness, if it causes another. Near him sat a small boy in sailor costume of a fancy and aristocratic char- acter, dangling a pair of short, blue silk legs, and a line big enough to catch a dolphin, toward the swirling green water, and absently munching a bun, which Tyrawley felt to be aggravating. He noticed with languid curiosity that the small boy's sister was fishing too, but in a half-hearted, feminine way, her eyes strained to the distant horizon, where the black purple clouds were drifting up, or to the deep brown fringe of seaweed sweeping down on the timbers. He was not much interested in girls; his ac- quaintance with women, though vast, was super- ficial, and confined chiefly to married ladies dowagers for choice as more worth cultivation. So he only casually remarked that her eyes were A MAN OF SIN 3 dark and large, and her cheek of that warm pale- ness on which red-rose crimson easily flashes and fades; that she had a stream of fair hair, not unlike seaweed, with which the wind played wild tricks; and that she would be pretty some day. Suddenly something happened it was the abrupt and unintentional descent of the small boy into the water, bun, line, and all; and this incident was immediately followed by a further development, namely, a flying of female skirts into the green, bubbling whirlpool he had created. "By Jove! little fool," said Mr. Tyrawley between his clenched teeth. " I think I'll go too; " and he swung himself over the edge with a cool and wary calculation of exactly where to drop. The girl was actually trying to swim, though the water kept dashing her rather alarmingly against the beams, but she saw Tyrawley's inten- tion, and managed to gasp: "Not me Bertie." Mr. Tyrawley peevishly changed his course, secured the sailor, who appeared little at home in his native element, and chucked him into the arms of a lad who had been fishing near; while he snatched up, just in time, a limp, white figure that was drifting under the pier, and managed, with the help of excited spectators, to scramble up the slippery steps on to the safe ground. '-'Give me the young lady, sir," said the pro- 4 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY prietor of the beefsteak-pudding. " You don't look over grand yourself." But Mr. Tyrawley had a feeling that he was much more likely to collapse without his slight burden than with it. So he shook his head and climbed the upper stairs. Here he was greeted by a frantic, flushed, sobbing, laughing woman in velvet and furs, who announced herself "Her mother," and embraced him and her child alternately. He put her gently aside, and, laying the girl down on a couch of shawls which had been hastily provided, put his hand on her heart. As he did so, and felt a feeble flutter, like a dying bird's wing, her large dark eyes opened languidly, and fixed on his a look of childish awe and grati- tude. It was a look that a sinking soul might cast on a rescuing angel, and it went to the marrow of Mr. Tyrawley's bones, and had the effect of making him feel more than usually unangelic. So he said, in a voice of studied coolness, still rather panting from his immersion: "She's all right, but you had better get her home. Let one of these beggars run for a fly." He could not remove his hat, because the sea had saved him that trouble. He bowed his hand- some head, with that graceful and distinguished courtesy which caused the colonel of the local volunteers to say that Tyrawley was the finest gentleman, as well as the biggest rascal, going; and, turning away, pushed through the crowd, A MAN OF SIN 5 who were admiring his valor and pitying his wet- ness. But a man, deputed by the girl's mother, rushed after him and caught him by the arm. "I say, Mrs. St. Just that's the mother of the young lady you saved wants your card, that she may write and thank you." Mr. Tyrawley murmured something like an oath, as the admiring crowd swarmed round him afresh, but even in that trying moment habitual prudence triumphed, and he extricated a soppy piece of pasteboard from a damp pocket-book, and once more shaking off his admirers, pro- ceeded on his way with a rapid though not very assured step. The spectacle of a gentleman in fashionable morning costume, bareheaded, ajnd dripping like a sea-god, being unusual even in Claretown, which is accustomed to eccentricities, Mr. Tyraw- ley had some difficulty in eluding public esteem, but eventually, getting rid of the last small boy by a scowl of peculiar atrocity, he made his way through back- and by-streets, ever upward, till he attained a small and desolate terrace, the very ragged fringe of the meanest suburb of Clare- town, where the wind, sweeping from the downs, cut like a knife, and the autumn mists lay low and chill a terrace whose immediate outlook was a patch of turnips and a brickfield. Stopping at No. 17 (at Nos. 18, 19, 20 the builder had lost heart, and left them to moulder unconcluded), Mr. Tyrawley applied a latch-key 6 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY and entered a very narrow, oil-clothed passage, where he was confronted by his landlady a short, pale, middle-aged woman in black, with a figure like a packing-case, and a pair of strange, vision- ary gray eyes. She emerged, however, from her vision sufficiently to glance from her drenched lodger to the stair-carpet which looked as if any sort of water would have benefited it and re- marked that he was wet. "Yes, Mrs. Higson," he replied. " The sea is wet, and I have been there." " 'The wicked,'" said Mrs. Higson, " 'flee when no man pursueth.'" "In this case," said he, "the wicked was pursuing, not fleeing. I went after a young lady." She shut her lips with a short nod, condemna- tory but acquiescent. "Poor thing !" " Oh, it was for her good," said he. " Unless you consider it a good thing to be drowned." " That," she replied, "depends on the person, and their state." " For a man of sin like me, I suppose, it would be very bad, as hastening the inevitable." "Yes, Mr. Tyrawley." "But how about your respected husband, Mrs. Higson, who has been, to my knowledge, drunk for two nights, and yet is a Little Elijah?" "Mr. Higson," said she with decision, "is selected ; therefore, he is all right." A MAN OF SIN "Our choice selected, three a penny," mur- mured the lodger, whose teeth were beginning to chatter with cold. " Now, my dear woman, even men of sin catch cold. Let me go upstairs, will you ? " "If you don't mind," said she, "going into the back-kitchen, I'll bring you a change there. Salt water spoils the carpets." Even the boldest scoffer, with a consciousness of unpaid rent, shrinks from the wrath of his landlady. Tyrawley went meekly to the dank and stony little retreat prescribed, and there made a shivering toilet, and looked thereafter so blue and pinched that Mrs. Higson, with a touch of human feeling, invited him to come and warm himself by the kitchen fire, while she hung his drenched clothes at a prudent distance from it, and he looked ruefully on. "Awful nuisance!" said he. "Bother saving one's fellow-creatures ! " Then he thought of the little fluttering pulse under his hand, and the big, dark blue eyes, which looked such adoring reverence on his most unworthy self, and his heart smote him, and he added: " But she was only a child, and probably, Mrs. Higson, not selected." "Most likely not," said Mrs. Higson, spread- ing his coat on the back of a chair; "the Little Latter End Elijahs are few and feeble as yet." "Mr. Higson," murmured the incorrigible 8 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY Tyrawley, "is certainly the latter; but I gather that, if you are a Little Latter End Elijah, you may excuse a worldly proverb jump over gates of sobriety, and so on, without any unpleasant results; whereas, if you're not, you must not even look through them." "Just so," she replied composedly. "But I ought to tell you, Mr. Tyrawley, that that shirt I have just brought you is the only one you now have that is not ragged, and the man called to-day for the money for new-soling your boots which you promised him last week, and " Poor Tyrawley writhed a little at this piece of feminine retaliation. "All right. I know," he said peevishly. " Now I'm dry enough for that carpet, I think I'll go upstairs. My ducking, or something, has given me a racking headache." He rose, but the landlady's back being turned for a moment, his eye it was the eye of the falcon or the fox, or any creature that lives by preying on its fellows, soft and languid as it appeared perceived something twisted round a button of the wet coat. It was two or three long, fair hairs, so fine that only such an eye could have detected them. What part of this reprobate's schemes was it that necessitated the rapid and secret seizure of that sentimental memento by those long, taper fingers of gentlemanly whiteness and predatory flexibility ? A MAN OF SIN 9 When he was alone upstairs, he wound his prize round his finger, placed it in an envelope, append- ing the date methodically, and put it away in the secret drawer of a much-battered Russia leather writing-case; having done which, he flung him- self back in a low chair, as luxurious as could be expected for four shillings and sixpence a week, and laughed a bitter, silent laugh ; then took a hard pull at his pipe, and, after a restless turn or two in his narrow den, went down stairs again and out. " Mr. Tyrawley," said Mrs. Higson, hearing his step, and perhaps smitten with womanly re- morse, to which even the Little Latter End Elijahs, albeit a self-justifying sect, are not alto- gether impervious, "you've got a little tea left in the cupboard, and I have water on the boil. Won't you have a cup before you go out ? " " No, thanks. One advantage being half drowned has, in common with the complete proc- ess, is that you don't want any thing to eat or drink afterward. And the exchequer is low, Mrs. Higson; I'm going out to fill it." She watched him from the kitchen window as he lounged down the street. "And what you do to fill it," she said, "passes me. And as to how you got half-drowned it may be true, or it may not. If you're like Saul, higher by the head and shoulders in stature than most, it strikes me you're uncommonly like him in being lower than most in your principles." 10 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY It is a just retribution on a scoundrel that when, by chance, he does a good thing, peculiarly bad designs are sure to be attributed to him, just as a good man who makes a slip is usually for- given on the score of previous good character. It is only in the eighteenth chapter of the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel, and similar pages, that the way of judging is "equal." CHAPTER II HIS AFFECTIONATE FRIEND MR. TYRAWLEY'S destination was a certain public-house and billiard-room in the nasty part of Claretown. He entered the bar, imbibed the very cheapest form of liquid refreshment with an unconcealed grimace, and, nodding his head toward the first floor, enquired : " Any one up there ? " The landlord grinned, as landlords do grin at the discomfiture of customers whose taste for liquor is limited. "Nobody," said he. Mr. Tyrawley mounted the dingy stair with a slow and disgusted step. Further discomfiture met him in the person of a strange marker, for with the last one he had had a friendly under- standing. "Oh, new face," said he, coolly looking the marker over. "Where's the other fellow, then ? " "Sloped, sir, with some cash. They're after him, I believe." " Poor devil ! " said Mr. Tyrawley thought- fully, as he slowly removed his coat, selected a cue, and chalked it. The new marker stood watching him as he 12 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY knocked about the balls, making some brilliant strokes and missing others. - Presently the man turned his back to rub a cloth over the dusty window, and then Mr. Tyrawley began to play with more purpose, finally settling down to patient practice of a difficult cannon. As he stood up for a moment to rest, he caught the marker's eye fixed keenly upon him. They looked hard at each other for a moment. The faintest ghost of a smile stole across the man's countenance, but Tyrawley remained quite un- moved. "Play on this table pretty often, I reckon; don't you, sir?" said the man very civilly. " Pretty often," said Tyrawley. " Why ? " "Seem to know it, that's all." Their eyes met again. The marker strolled to the window, whistling under his breath, and Mr. Tyrawley stroked his mustache and deliberated. He played a little more, and then began to put on his coat The marker came obsequiously to help him, during which operation Tyrawley re- marked casually: " D'ye know, that last man was really a good fellow. I often come here, and I always remem- bered him" a slight pause "when I was in funds. Thanks." " Thank you, sir." Mr. Tyrawley departed, viewed not without admiration by the marker. "You're a cool hand, and no mistake," he HIS AFFECTIONATE FRIEND 13 muttered. "A real toff, got into trouble and cast off by your friends, I expect. Play a pretty game, too oh, a pretty, pretty game." Mr. Tyrawley now made his way to his Club in the more fashionable part of Claretown. It was not the Club he was wont to laugh and say that the company there was too expensive for a beggar but it was sufficiently fashionable, and more than sufficiently fast. Careful fathers objected to their sons becoming members, and mothers deprecated it as a haunt of detrimentals, and Mr. Tyrawley was one of the best-known figures there. There were hawks for company, and pigeons to be plucked in a strictly gentle- manly manner. Tyrawley was a popular man because he was always languidly amiable and humorous, however low his exchequer. On his way there he stopped at a small baker's shop, where stale rolls at a halfpenny tempted the hungry, and, after plumbing his pocket, bought one and ate it, leaning against the counter, to the puzzled admiration of the woman in charge. The last crust was between that delicate, predatory finger and thumb, when a stray street dog pattered in and looked up ^whimpering in his face. "Are you hungry, old chap ?" said Tyrawley. The dog replied that he was, rather, which he meant in a slang sense. So Tyrawley flipped the morsel to him, and left the shop. The wind 14 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY seemed a shade less bitter, and the memory of the beefsteak-pudding less intrusive, after that. As soon as he entered the Club, young Poyntz (Poyntz & Co., Bacon Merchants) challenged him to a game of billiards. Poyntz was an obnoxious sandy-haired youngster, plump as his sire's pigs, whose boast was that he could make himself at home anywhere, and whose manners and customs aggravated the calmest tempers. But a fox must eat a crow if he cannot procure a pheasant; so Tyrawley smiled resignation, which Poyntz interpreted as rapture, and they took off their coats and played, presenting as striking a contrast as a thoroughbred plater and a useful mule. But the spectators, who knew Tyrawley's form, there were a good many men in the room, for the afternoon was wettish, began to open their eyes as the latter missed stroke after stroke, and only saved the game through the fatuous idiocy of Poyntz's play. " Have another game, dear boy," said the latter. " Nearly had you, eh ? About equal, I think; " and he poked Tyrawley in the side with his cue with elegant facetiousness. Every one was surprised when the latter hesi- tated a little. Perhaps Poyntz poked too hard, or perhaps a ducking in the sea and a halfpenny roll are not the best preparations for cool and scientific play. HIS AFFECTIONATE FRIEND 15 " Come, I say, give a man his revenge," urged Poyntz. The lookers-on chuckled as he rushed on his doom; and Tyrawley, taking up his cue with a slight effort, drawled : "All right." He played a stroke or two, failed. in the simplest of cannons, laughed faintly, and dropped on one of the red leather settees. " Wait a minute, young man," he said. " I've got a stitch in my side indigestion or something." " Been lunching ? " suggested somebody. "Just so," said Tyrawley, with a sarcasm of which his hearers were not aware. Poyntz swelled out his chest, and remarked that he was just getting into good form, and he did not like to see fellows backing out of things. " If Tyrawley doesn't murder that fellow, I shall," said Waters, adjutant of the local volun- teers. " He's really too much of a cad." But to murder the goose, or gander, which produces golden eggs is not the habit of gentle- men of Mr. Tyrawley's profession, so he said with meekness: "I'll go on presently, old man," and held his side hard. Here, however, a man, who had been standing in the background, taking in the scene with pro- fessional keenness, intervened. He was a sport- ing doctor, named MacAdam. "No, you won't," he said, seating himself on l6 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY the settee, blighting Poyntz parenthetically with a growl, " Shut up ! No, you won't," he re- peated. "Why?" enquired Tyrawley, with a weak defiance. "Because," said the doctor deliberately, "you've got cold shivers, a touch of fever, and unless I am much mistaken a threatening of pleurisy. You'll go home to bed like a decent chap, in a cab which I shall send for, and send for your family physician. Here, Poyntz, hand over what you owe, and we'll pack him off." Mr. Tyrawley's face lengthened. " Sha'n't go," he said, writhing peevishly. "I don't believe in physicians." Then he looked up with a smile into Mac- Adam's face, to take out the sting of his remark. He was an amiable person, and would have loved his kind-instead of preying on them, had circum- stances permitted. Even a Bengal tiger, when fully and regularly fed, has been known to be- come sweet-tempered. "I'm not joking," said MacAdam, as Poyntz sulkily placed in his outstretched palm sundry half-crowns, whose chink filled Mr. Tyrawley with most unheroic satisfaction. "Here you are, old man. Now, Joe," turning to the marker, " order a cab, will you ? " " No," said Tyrawley, with gasping decision, getting on his feet. "I shall walk. The air will do me good." HIS AFFECTIONATE FRIEND 17 "You can't, man," said MacAdam. "Air! an east wind like a Pathan's knife. But," he added, another aspect of the case striking him as he observed Tyrawley's welcome of Poyntz's half-crowns, "my trap's at the door, and I'm going your way [which was a fiction], I'll drive you, if you like." Tyrawley would fain have refused. He had no wish that anybody at the Club should become acquainted with Alonzo Terrace and the ameni- ties of his landlady. But he felt he couldn't walk, and a fly was out of the question with the possible expense of illness before him; so he murmured, " Thanks," and subsided on the settee. As MacAdam turned from the window to announce that the trap would be round as soon as the mare could be persuaded to trot on four legs, instead of standing on two, a waiter brought in a note to Tyrawley. It had a large blue and red monogram, and was addressed in a wild female hand. "Messenger waits, please sir," said the waiter. His eye was benignant as it rested on Tyrawley, who never swore at him or chaffed him as the eye of one who conveys good tidings. He knew the look of a hungry man and the outward aspect of an invitation to dinner. It was, indeed, a fervid petition from " M. A. St. Just" that he would come and dine with them quietly that evening, to be thanked, "though he could never be thanked enough," etc., etc., "and 2 l8 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY if not that evening, would he name any evening, and she was ever gratefully his." A little note was enclosed, written in a school- girl hand : "DEAR MR. TYRAWLEY: " Mother says I must write and thank you for perilling your life to save Bertie's and mine; but I can never, never do that properly. Only, if there is ever any thing I can do to show you what I feel about it, please let me know. "I am, "Your affectionate friend, "NINA ST. JUST." Now, Mr. Tyrawley had various interested friends, and admiring friends, and had had even impassioned friends; but he had never had an affectionate friend. That adjective belongs to home and tenderness, and other things with which a polite adventurer has nothing to do; and it went through him with a sense of sudden need and yearning. But a man with pleurisy hanging over him can- not accept dinner invitations; so he disgustedly asked for pen and paper, and wrote : "DEAR MRS. ST. JUST: "I am very sorry I cannot avail myself of your kind invitation, as I am leaving Claretown for a few days. On my return I shall hope to do myself the pleasure of calling to see that your HIS AFFECTIONATE FRIEND 19 daughter and Master Bertie are none the worse for their dip. Pray thank Miss St. Just for her note. I am quite overwhelmed at her gratitude for such a trifle. "Yours sincerely, "I. TYRAWLEY." "Ready, my son?" said the doctor, who had watched his rather faltering scrawl. "Oh, yes! bother you thank you," said Tyrawley, following the little short, stout doctor down stairs. "A man ought never to be seedy who has nobody to coddle him; he becomes such a nuisance to himself and his chums." "Where to, old man ?" said MacAdam, as the mare executed her usual prologue. He had lowered his voice. Tyrawley felt grateful. " 17 Alonzo Terrace. It is beyond Down Road, on the extreme edge of nowhere." " All right," said the doctor cheerily. " Miss Fireworks will have you there in no time; there's nothing she adores like a long spin." It was a long spin. Much conversation was impossible, between the eccentricities of Fire- works and the breathlessness of her passenger, who sat with a very pale face, grasping his side at every bound of the trap. Little MacAdam tucked the rug round his legs once or twice, and, as the mare at last slackened her pace, looked at him with good-natured pity. "Now, look here," he said, "you go straight 20 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY to bed, and let somebody clap you on a big mustard-plaster, and another after that till the pain abates. Keep warm and quiet, and take slops, and then you'll be all right. I'll come round and see you to-morrow. What's amiss?" " Mac Adam, I can't." " Can't what ? Take slops ? You must, man, or you'll be in a regular fever." " Oh, I can take any thing I can get; but, MacAdam, I'm not in a position " "Oh, hang that! " said the doctor hastily. "I come as a friend that's understood." The helplessness of illness was upon Tyrawley, and he could not fight, so he said faintly: " Thanks, old man," and collapsed on the seat. He got down with difficulty when Fireworks permitted it, and was presently absorbed into the dark passage of No. 17, and was coldly met by the stony and reproachful glance of Mrs. Hig- son, who foresaw much trouble and small profit. "It seems," he said meekly, when, later on, he was experiencing the tortures of an ill-made and ill-applied mustard-plaster at her hands, "almost a pity I wasn't drowned this morning, Mrs. Higson, doesn't it ? We should both have been spared this annoyance." " Every thing is a mystery," she retorted tartly, " including who's to pay for all you'll want while you are ill." Tyrawley bit his lip, and felt unequal to further witticisms after this snub. CHAPTER III A SORT OF ISHMAEL MACADAM came next day, and found his patient hollow-eyed and quiescent from pain, bound hand and foot in the iron thrall of Mrs. Higson, whose nursing was of a distinctly penal character. She resented his faint jokes; and the insinuat- ing gaze of those eloquent, deep-blue eyes, which had wheedled so many middle-aged female hearts out of their better judgment, merely aggravated her. She would have preferred him to bewail and even to blaspheme, as more in accordance with his character; but want of pluck was not among his sins, though Mrs. Higson, armed with a raging mustard-plaster, might have appalled the bravest. So things went on for a day or two. Then came a faint change for the better. Finally, one bitter afternoon, MacAdam, coming in, found his patient up, shivering over a very small cindery fire, clad in an ancient silk dressing-gown, the remnant of some day of extravagant sunshine. It was a wretched little room, imperfectly carpeted, curtainless, and visited from the turnip- field by the four winds. The bed was unmade, 22 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY the furniture undusted, and last night's basin of gruel standing congealed on the mantelpiece. The doctor made a face when he saw it. "Hallo !" he said, "is this that woman's idea of nourishment ? No wonder you look all eyes and bones." "Her one idea," said Tyrawley. "Oh," he added fervently, "it's a mercy to be up! She always puts every thing just out of my reach. I believe she wanted to make me swear, that she might institute unfavorable comparisons between me and her husband, who is always drunk, and in that state talks Scripture in a way that makes even a reprobate like me sick." "What are they?" said MacAdam, drawing a chair to the fire, and poking it recklessly. "Hardshell Baptists, Ranters what?" "No, neither. They have a tea-caddy which they call a chapel, in which nine persons, I think, meet to discuss the faults of their neighbors, and call themselves ' Little Elijahs,' because that prophet was, I believe, a reformer. I had a Baptist landlady once," said Tyrawley pen- sively, "but she was a decent woman, though I didn't treat her well; and I lived eight months with Ranters, who were rea|ly awfully good folks. The husband used to talk to me quite paternally about my sins, and the wife made me puddings which she could ill afford, having five olive- branches, because, she said, I looked as if I didn't get enough to eat," A SORT OF ISHMAEL 23 "Did you?" said the doctor. "Excuse my curiosity; it's professional." "Well, perhaps I didn't; fellows like me alter- nately fast and feast. But I was going to tell you about my Methodist landlady. She was a good soul. She nursed me through an attack like this, and absolutely wept when I was in danger. She and I actually ran the house together for six weeks- after her husband had died and left her with five small children." "How was that?" said the doctor. He was observing, unobserved, sundry small details of his patient's condition. " It was this way. She had an offer of work at the house of some people she had been servant to, I think, and could not leave the children, although the eldest was a little mother of eleven. So I looked after matters, under the little mother's superintendence. I did, upon my honor ! I sometimes even performed their toi- lets, more or less incorrectly, and it was quite an edifying spectacle to see me pack them off to Sunday-school, and then go indoors and cook the dinner." "You must tell me some more another time," said the doctor. "But now I want to tell you something." "Something unpleasant, I suppose," said Tyrawley. " Fire away ! " and he looked him in the eyes with a faint defiance. "You need not get your temper up, old 24 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY chap," said MacAdam. "It's no offence, but rather a pity, as things are. Are you aware that your lungs are slightly affected ? I don't mean this present attack, but the trouble is of some standing." "Dangerous ? " asked the other quickly. "No, not at present, but you'll have to look after yourself, or it may become so." Tyrawley looked rather forlorn. "That means, I suppose," said he sulkily, "that I shall eventually gravitate to the workhouse ' Rattle his bones over the stones, a trouble- some pauper whom nobody owns.' Eh ?" "Oh, bosh! nonsense! Don't be an ass; 'tis nothing like that," said the doctor hastily. " Go abroad, if you can, for the winter." "What would you think," enquired Tyrawley, "of a two-hundred-guinea steam yacht and a villa in the Riviera ?" MacAdam grunted. "Seriously," continued Tyrawley, "I know I'm a bit touched in the wind, in consequence of hardships I underwent in my interesting infancy." "Parents died young?" "My mother," replied Tyrawley, "was so disgusted, poor thing, at the first sight she had of me, that she left the world immediately I entered it, having furnished me with an appro- priate name. What do you think it was ? " " Isaac, or Ishmael ? " said the doctor. " I've noticed you've signed an 'I.'' A SORT OF ISHMAEL 25 "Infelix. There was a cheerful welcome for a youngster; but, inasmuch as nobody in partic- ular ever called me by my Christian name, it does not matter. Well, I was carted about from lodging to lodging by my father, who was an airy rover, and experienced some startling transi- tions from being set on a dinner-table in blue velvet raiment to sing music-hall songs, to cleaning knives and boots in a back kitchen, as some equivalent for my board." "And then?" "Then, at the ripe age of seven, I was sent to a cheap school, where I improved myself con- siderably in the art of pitch-and-toss, in which I had already attained some proficiency at street corners." "Oh," said MacAdam dryly, "you begun it then, did you ?" "Yes," said Tyrawley coolly, "I begun it then. There was nothing else to do; I'd no pocket-money." There was a slight pause. The two men looked hard at one another. "Well," said the doctor, "I've always said I admired your play never saw any thing that wasn't perfectly fair and square." " You never did." MacAdam turned his gaze on the fire and whistled. "Go on," he presently said, " though, 'pon my soul! I don't know why you tell me all this; it's no business of mine." 26 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY "A dog," said Tyrawley, "that has been much kicked seldom forgets any kind hand that has patted him. That's why, old man." He laid his white, thin fingers on MacAdam's knee. "Oh, bother stow that! What else on earth could a man do ? But continue you stopped at the cheap school " "Where my schooling was paid for by an uncle, who was a bigoted Catholic, and an uncommonly sharp business man. When I was fourteen he gave me two alternatives one, to turn Catholic, and errand-boy in his office; the other, two years' more schooling at a better school, and then to be cast adrift. I chose the latter. On leaving school I got a clerkship, and might have drudged my way up, I think, if my sire had not been seized with a sudden fit of paternal yearning, or struck with my possible usefulness; for I was, I am told, a very picture of youth and innocence. He took me out with him to his haunts every night." "What was his profession?" asked Mac- Adam. "My own," said Tyrawley, with a shrug. "But," he added impartially, "I think he was a shade worse than I am. However, after mak- ing my youthful ideas shoot most luxuriantly, there was one day a most awful smash." He paused and looked gloomily into the embers. " I lost my clerkship and very nearly my A SORT OF ISHMAEL 27 character, and in future I resolved to go to the dogs my own way. Shortly after, my father married a West Indian widow, who endowed him with fifty thousand pounds on the condition that he should part with that young villain his son. I needn't say he sacrificed me at once, and since then " Tyrawley raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders expressively. " You have looked after yourself ? " said Mac- Adam. "With more or less success, for sixteen years." " You don't seem to have any chums ? " "No; I'm a sort of Ishmael, under the surface. Fellows like Jack Lark I can't stand. He and his set would be friendly enough with me, but some- how I can't stick them, though I know it's absurd; and, of course, I know well enough the best men at the Club would fight shy of me as a friend. Of course, in your profession, old man, it doesn't matter what sort of queer characters you pick up with. Well, there's my interesting narrative. This," said Mr. Tyrawley, looking round, "supplies the moral." Dr. MacAdam was sorry for the reckless sinner, who looked so ill, and coughed so hard, but he could offer no improving comments. He was too conscious of the need of improvement in himself. "Mean to do this always?" he enquired, 28 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY after a short silence, during which Tyrawley coughed. "I suppose so, till I end in the hospital, or make a hole in the water, or get hurt in a drunken row, or something." " But you don't drink ? " said the doctor quickly. " No, and I swear very little, and I don't go in for other things much, unless I get wild, once in a way. Oh, it's a wretched business all through ! " "Come, you mustn't get down in the mouth, or you'll interfere with your convalescence." "Don't want to convalesce," said the other, leaning his head on his hand, "except for one reason, which Mrs. Higson would very distinctly explain to you." " You look at things in that way because you're weak; you'll be as jolly as ever in a day or two." "Oh, yes! jolly enough," replied Tyrawley sarcastically. "But I say," he added, with some earnestness, and a momentary glance toward his writing-case, where reposed in safety a little note, signed "Your affectionate friend," "how soon shall I be able to go out and make a call or two ? " "I should think in about a week," said Mac- Adam "if you don't die of that hag's gruel meanwhile. I'll speak to her." " No, don't, pray. It's bad enough as it is, and I can eat any thing that comes to hand now." "All right," said MacAdam. "I'll look in A SORT OF ISHMAEL 29 again in a day or two, and my old housekeeper, who is a genius at kickshaws, shall bring you something round," "No, no!" said Tyrawley; but the doctor merely said "Bosh ! " and departed. The week passed, and three days tacked on to it, in consequence, MacAdam said, of " want of rallying power," then Mr. Tyrawley found him- self, one cold and sunny afternoon, knocking at the door of one of the biggest houses in the biggest square in Claretown. "People evidently well off," he said inwardly, as a white-waistcoated and solemn butler admit- ted him. " Good for dinners and lunches, but scarcely worth that confounded attack of pleurisy." He was pretending very hard that he was act- ing on an entirely sordid motive, for he well knew that a man of prey has no right to emo- tions. Nevertheless, no eighteen-year-old victim of calf-love ever felt a more sickening pang of disappointment than did this polite impostor when, being ushered into the big drawing-room, he found Mrs. St. Just alone. She .overwhelmed him with renewed thanks, assured him tt^at he was looking frightfully ill, and deplored it as the result of his " heroism " (all in a breath). An "h" or two escaped her in the process, but there were signs of some refinement, as well as unlimited wealth, about the room, and he began to persuade himself for your thoroughbred 30 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY blackguard has a character to keep up as well as the righteous that he had known what he was doing all along. Mrs. St. Just was, he gathered, a widow with two children, to whom she was devoted. He also learned that her husband was of "high family," the " very image of my Nina, whom you so nobly," etc., etc., and that she herself had if it takes three generations to make a lady scarcely attained the second stage. Allusions to " my butler," " my carriage," to her daughter as "Miss St. Just," and to a relative of whom she appeared to stand in awe as "My dear man's nephew," strengthened this impression. But Tyrawley welcomed it as being rather in favor of future intimacy. Mrs. St. Just evidently did not connaitre > son monde. He had the manners of society, with a shade of soft deference superadded, and " Such charmin' looks, my child, and his voice is as sweet as a bell. But he's coming to dinner to- morrow, and you'll see for yourself." "I remember, mother," said the tall, fair- haired Nina, in a low voice, while her large eyes saw once more that dazzle of whirling green water among the black piers, and the face that stooped over her, and seemed to give her her young life back. CHAPTER IV A STRANGE INSPIRATION AFTER that call Mr. Tyrawley paused on the parade, looked at the sea, and took thought, as a result of which he proceeded to the billiard-room at the Club, cast a thoughtful glance around, and finally in dulcet accents invited Poyntz to have his revenge, which that blatant youth accepting, they presently played. It was a sad, yet a lovely sight, to see how gently Tyrawley conducted the victim to his doom, as if, like Isaac Walton's angler putting a worm on a fish-hook, he loved him. Soothed by judicious flattery, and stimulated by faintly veiled sarcasm, Poyntz played and played; won, and lost, and lost, and lost. Men stood round, admiring, though one or two ele- vated their eyebrows at the unequal strife. If they and Poyntz had known how loud the heart whose will impelled that white, skilful hand was thumping, how anxiously hope and fear strove under that cool exterior, they would have been beyond measure astonished. When at last Poyntz sulkily announced that he had had enough, his antagonist, declining other 32 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY invitations, went smilingly away; but as he threaded a maze of back streets, he remarked to that inner self which receives so many confes- sions of weakness, " If that little beggar had only known what an awful funk I was in all the time ! " Then he entered a small corner shop, and gave back, to an accommodating friend a square paste- board ticket, supplemented with the spoils of Poyntz; receiving in return, with a light heart, the dress-clothes which were meant to open the doors of Cupola Square to him the next evening. That evening was like a wild dream to Tyrawley, in retrospect, though it began very quietly; a piece out of somebody else's life not his own. He arrived cool, polished, perfectly got up, as if he had not had a three miles' walk from the bleak heights of Alonzo Terrace. He found his hostess rather overdressed; Master Bertie, who dined late in his honor; Nina, a grave, shy, beau- tiful statue in soft, sheeny gray; and a harmless married couple, prepared by the St. Justs to view him as the lion of the evening. He, of course, took his hostess down, but he sat between her and Nina, and managed, with that swiftness of eye which belonged at once to his ordinary pursuits and his present condition of mind, while he talked to the one, to look at the other, collecting as much material as possible for his own after discomfort. That delicate yet decided profile, the young, proud curves of the A STRANGE INSPIRATION 33 crimson lip, the fine paleness of the changing cheek, on which the velvet bloom of childhood still lingered; even the plaits of fair satin hair circling the small, stately head were not visions conducive to philosophical endurance of Mrs. Higson and Poyntz. When he learned accidentally that she was but sixteen, and understood thereby the wide, inno- cent gaze of her large dark eyes, it did not make things any better. However, he showed no out- ward sign his apprenticeship to the world had been too severe for that; he talked to her a little in a half paternal, half chivalrous way he had found that this method of addressing their daugh- ters went down well with desirable mothers and he joked Bertie about the big fish that had nearly drowned three people; and generally interested himself politely in all that was said by every- body and this is a valuable habit. Dinner was over; the gentlemen rejoined the ladies; the hands of the blue Sevres clock on the mantelpiece went round, and Tyrawley began to breathe bitter inward congratulations that he had not made a fool of himself but he was a little too soon. Mrs. St. Just proposed music. " Did Mr. Tyrawley sing ? " He did, and he would, without pressing; he was quite aware that he had a par- ticularly sweet tenor voice, and he felt a fierce desire to do something that he could do well and yet honestly, like other men. So he sang one or 3 34 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY two songs, Italian and English, and a little reck- less German love-song he had picked up some- where, and felt as if the tension were a little relieved. Then Mrs. St. Just summoned her daughter to the piano. "My child," she said, " never will sing any thing but such grave songs. It doesn't seem natural for a young girl, though I must own nothing comes up to them. Sing that Bible thing, dear, you were singing last night." So Nina, looking straight before her, sang, with that simplicity which is in itself the utmost pathos, and more pathetic still in combination with such words of complex sorrow, ''He was despised and rejected of men." Tyrawley said a mechanical " Thank you," and as mechanically asked for another. He showed no feeling, but the storm was wild enough within. Of course, he took the words to himself people always do in supreme moments and so made them poison instead of healing. The soft iteration, "Despised, despised, rejected," seemed like a finger incessantly touch- ing a wound; he could have groaned and cursed. The fine, gentlemanly Tyrawley, who could talk intellectually on every subject, was really so ignorant a heathen that he did not apprehend the true meaning of the words; but he was so afraid of himself under this new aspect that he was about to take his leave when Mrs. St. Just ex- claimed : A STRANGE INSPIRATION 35 " Oh! before you go you must see these hardy orchids my gardener has sent from my country house. Nina, child, take him into the con- servatory." He followed the slight gray figure into the soft, scented half-light, and looked almost in silence at the strange blooms, which mock insect and reptile. He did not know whether it was Paradise or Hades. They were standing be- neath a softly burning lamp. The tempest within had made him white to his very lips, and his heart beat pitiably. The girl, looking up from where she was kneeling to inspect a purple gloxinia, saw it and started; the hidden fervor of her nature, still but intense, rushed into her dark eyes, her voice melted unconsciously into child- like tenderness, as she said: "Oh, how pale you look ! You are ill." "It's nothing," said he, speaking fast, as men do to keep themselves under. " I've been a little ill a touch of pleurisy that's all." She gazed into his face. "Pleurisy? People get that from catching cold. You got it in sav- ing me and Bertie. Oh, Mr. Tyrawley ! " and then he felt, light as a butterfly's wing, the touch of two warm young lips on his hand as it rested on the staging. He took it away, he wrung it in the other, he cried in a stifled voice, "Oh, my God ! dorit ! You don't know what I am." And she, rising to her feet, stood, forgetting 36 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY to blush, forgetting herself, in this sudden glimpse of an agony she could not comprehend. He might have said or done something mad, but the habit of years conquered. "You honor me too much," he said, with a return to that half-paternal manner which had been such a success hitherto. Then, as he saw her lip quiver, her eyes fill, her cheek crimson, passion conquered policy once more; he knelt on the stone floor, and pressed his lips to the dusty outer hem of her gray dress with a muttered, "This is my place, only too near." Then he rose rather unsteadily he was still weak. There was a strange darkness round his eyes, and his lips were white, as he said, with tender coldness: " Now, forgive me my momentary aberration, and forget all this. Let us go and tell Mrs. St. Just we have seen the orchids, and then I'll say good-night." He stood aside to allow her to precede him. That wild and humble caress had somehow been balm to the smart of the sudden wave of shame which had swept over her; and then he looked physically so unfit for further strain that she could not but second him. So she drew up her head and walked quietly into the drawing-room, where Mrs. St. Just only remarked, as Mr. Tyrawley made his adieux, that he looked fright- fully ill, and ought to go home to bed. He loathed the idea of Alonzo Terrace and its A STRANGE INSPIRATION 37 associations so much that, when he was clear of Cupola Square, he went and stood dreamily on the parade, and looked across the waste of toss- ing waters, solemnly restless in the moonlight. His mind was like that tossing sea: in the new light that had risen upon him he was like two men, and they fought fiercely; though no one would have guessed it from that statuesque countenance and figure, motionless save for the slow stroking of his mustache. A voice behind him suddenly remarked with emphasis : " You're a fool a confounded fool ! " It was MacAdam, come to blow off the effects of club whiskey and whist. " I quite agree. I am a fool, and also am con- founded, but I wasn't aware that I looked it." "You do," said the doctor didactically. "Come, let's be moving," he added, putting his arm into Tyrawley's. "A man is a fool who, after a sharp attack of pleurisy, stands star- gazing in a summer greatcoat. I'll walk a bit of the way home with you, you lunatic." " Thanks, do. I wasn't star-gazing either, rather the reverse. I was wondering," said he, looking straight into MacAdam's little keen gray eyes, " if I were to jump off the pier, whether a natural but idiotic instinct of self-preservation would make me strike out, or whether reason would triumph, and make me keep my arms close to my sides, and go down in a decent manner." 38 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY "Oh, reason!" snorted the doctor. "But I can tell you that you'd struggle like any thing." " For what ? " said Tyrawley. ''Your life, man." Tyrawley whistled softly. "What's amiss?" said MacAdam. "Dinner disagreed with you, luck bad what ? " "Both; but neither in the way you mean. I've some thoughts," he said deliberately, "of going and getting ineffably drunk; only the worst of it is, I don't know the precise effect. It might be temporary oblivion " "Or," interrupted MacAdam, "it might be the police-station don't be an ass. I ask you again, what's amiss ? " "Oh, every thing, I think," said Tyrawley, a little wildly; "and I wish," he added peevishly, "you wouldn't take me up like this, MacAdam. Nobody ever did before." " I have odd fancies sometimes," returned he composedly. "Suppose you tell me the case? and I'll give you a professional opinion in strict confidence." Tyrawley looked on the ground, and was silent for some time as they walked on; then he said, in an altered and less reckless tone the most real perhaps MacAdam had ever heard him use: " Perhaps I will, some time, if you don't change your mind." "Come up to my diggings to-morrow," said A STRANGE INSPIRATION 39 the doctor, "and dine with me. My sister is going out to tea and scandal." Tyrawley hesitated. "Don't do it in the warmth of your heart," said he, " after the Club whiskey, and say to- morrow morning, ' Hang that rascal! I wish I hadn't asked him.' ' "Oh, I sha'n't do that! Besides, whiskey doesn't affect me. Now here's your turning. Shoot home, there's a sensible chap, and leave drunks and drownings alone for to-night." They shook hands and parted. "Poor beggar! " thought Mac Adam, turning to look after him, "seems miserable enough. Nobody would ever think he had this sort of thing in him, to see him among the fellows at the Club. I wonder what has stirred it up to-night ? " When he announced to his sister, an elderly spinster of rigid views, who was his guest for next day's dinner, she opened her eyes and pursed up her mouth disapprovingly. "But isn't that person a regular gambler, a sort of impostor?" she enquired. "Dear Mrs. Gascoigne told me he had won ever so much of her boy Nathaniel's money at that Club of yours." "There you go, you women ! " he was rather vexed with himself for the interest he could not help feeling in the questionable Tyrawley. " Old Mother Gascoigne is a gossip, and her sweet Nat as arrant a young rip as ever handled a cue; it will teach him to respect his elders if he is bled a 4O THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY little. But that's the way; when a chap's down in the world nobody will ever let him get up. Tyrawley is a publican and a sinner, I grant you; but there are Pharisees as well," and he walked off in a huff, not, however, without hearing Miss Mac Adam's parting observation: "Apparently the man is clever enough to take you in." CHAPTER V THE PLEASURES OF RESPECTABILITY MR. TYRAWLEY turned up at the doctor's next evening, looking rather fagged, half diffident, half defiant in manner. He had slept but little the night before, and had spent the morning in hanging about Cupola Square, to see if he could catch a glimpse of Mrs. St. Just or her daughter, to remove or confirm a deep misgiving which had risen in his mind as he stared at the gray dawn. He thought it but too probable that Nina St. Just would, on thinking his outbreak over, cut him, as the best way of escaping an awkward memory. However, he was lucky enough to meet her eye as a member of one of those regiments of fair equestrians for which Claretown is famous she turned the corner into the parade. It was only one look, and rather a timid one; but there was a touch of pity, and even of anxiety, in it, which, by some strange alchemy of the affections, confirmed certain half-formed resolutions. The idea of Tyrawley making resolutions would have been too utter a joke a week ago, even to himself, but it took place all the same. 42 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY Still he rather shrank from his interview with MacAdam. When you have never opened your mind to any body for sixteen years, the hinges have got stiff; and the two men talked on ordi- nary topics, till a dinner, which Miss MacAdam pronounced far too good for " that adventurer," but which the doctor had positively insisted on, had been discussed, and they were sitting in the latter's smoking-room, with a blazing fire within, and a howling wind without; both circumstances, I think, favorable to confidence. " Now," said MacAdam, breaking the silence, " have another cigar, and let us hear what the case is." Tyrawley stroked his mustache with a nervous hand, and looked rather haggardly into the fire. "Well, it is not exactly a case. It's your opinion I want." "You mayn't like it," said the doctor, " when you get it." " Very likely not, but it can't make things look any blacker than they do. Well, this is it. Can a man who was born to go on the wrong side of the post bred and trained to go on the wrong side, and has always taken a pride in going on the wrong side have any hope at all of ever going straight ? " He held his breath when he had asked the question, and looked a trifle wistful as MacAdam replied, with the sententiousness of his country: " It would depend on the man, and his age." THE PLEASURES OF RESPECTABILITY 43 "The man," ,said Tyrawley doggedly, "is habitually more or less of a swindler and a vaga- bond. He has come one or two muckers so tremendous that he runs the risk of being kicked out of all decent company, if they were known." " Muckers of what sort ? " enquired Mac Adam' judicially. "Monetary transactions," said the other, in a tone in which shame and defiance were oddly blended. "It may, however, be said for him that he never got drunk from choice, and is con- stitutionally averse to any thing but mild and in- terested flirtations with dowagers." " Funny, if true." "It is true; the man in this respect is better than some much better fellows. He has lived thirty-three years under more or less general censure, and his name is Tyrawley, as you prob- ably guess." " I did," said the doctor, and there was a some- what prolonged silence. "Is there," said Tyrawley at last, rather huskily, " the ghost of a chance ? " The doctor fidgeted uneasily. "Oh, my dear chap," said he, "why on earth should you ask me?" "Because I have only a formal acquaintance with any but individuals of my own species, ex- cept you." " Well," sajd the doctor presently, "I'm not 44 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY much of a judge of morals, God knows; but I had a good mother, and I'll speak according to my light, I promise you, old man," he added, laying his little pudgy hand kindly on the other's knee. "What's the meaning of this sudden convulsion ? You always seemed so jolly." Here a wonderful thing occurred. Mr. Tyrawley blushed actually blushed; a faint red spot touched the cheek which sickness had left hollow, and a faint sigh escaped him. "Oh, "said the doctor, "you needn't tell me any more; it's not a dowager this time. Well, I won't ask any questions. I'll give you that opinion instead. It is possible, but awfully hard. Facilis descensus Averni but the ascent is steep, and every now and then somebody will give you a push down again." " Of course, I'm prepared for that." " Yes," continued the doctor, " the law of con- sequences is rigid enough. If you've never worked in addition to the internal difficulty, which is considerable you'll find, when you try it, that, if you work harder than others, they'll say it's for show; and if you go the ordinary pace, you're lazy. Then if you have an honest love, or even friendship, they will say you have an object to gain. You mustn't be too pleasant, or they'll call you a humbug; and if you speak straight, they'll say it's uncommon cheek. If you think you can face it, and if the motive is sufficient, it's all right; but if not, I shouldn't THE PLEASURES OF RESPECTABILITY 45 begin. A false start takes the courage out of the best horse." " I think," said Tyrawley, "I have no motive, but something has happened which has made what I am doing now perfectly intolerable." The doctor studied him as he leaned his chin on his open palms. Tyrawley stared into the fire. "More spirit than stamina, physically," he thought. " Poor chap ! I'm afraid he'll make a bad fist of it ; he has no more idea of what he's in for than Fireworks, if I were to put her in a brick-cart. Must keep my patient's heart up, however." So he said, quite gently, "Well, I'll quote to you a saying of my mother's, who is in heaven, if any body ever went there. She used to tell me that there were two phrases which would carry a man through any difficulty " Tyrawley looked at him with the mute, teach- able enquiry of a child, which touched the little doctor. "And those were," he continued seriously, "'I will God help me.' She said one was no good without the other." Tyrawley opened his lips to speak once or twice, but no sound came. At last he put his head down on his hands, and whispered, rather than spoke, with a long pause between the two phrases, " I will God help me ! " That gentle Presbyterian lady little thought how the simple words spoken to her small, flaxen- 46 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY headed son, in a Highland manse, would make anchorage years after for a sinking soul. "Amen," said little MacAdam solemnly; and it seemed to him that for a second he saw his dead mother's face again. "Now," said he cheerily, after a moment, " what is the first step on this straight road ? " " I've been thinking that over," said the other. "Work is, of course, the thing. Clerking, I suppose; but who would take a man at my age, and without a character? I can't very well be a laborer, and I'm too old to learn a trade. There's only one opening I can see at present. I think I could be a billiard-marker. I can play, as Poyntz knows ; address and appearance good, as advertisements say; and lots of fellows I know would give me a reference for that'' "Not a bad idea for a start; but stop a bit. What sort of hand do you write ? I forget." Tyrawley took out pocket-book and pencil, scribbled a few lines, and handed them over. "Come, that's fine. I think, as it happens, I can get you a job for a week or so. There's a brother medico of mine, a learned professor, who is writing a book, and wants it copied by some- body with two grains of sense, who knows the difference between psychical and physical." "MacAdam," said the other falteringly, "I don't know what to say to you except 'thanks.' But if there were more men like you, there would be fewer blackguards like me." THE PLEASURES OF RESPECTABILITY 47 " Oh, you weren't meant for a blackguard ! We shall see you county magistrate, or some- thing yet." " From the dock to the bench eh ! " said Tyrawley, with the ghost of a smile, " I believe if I go straight I shall actually disappoint my worthy landlady, who has made up her mind I'm a ' vessel of wrath. ' ' " I should show up at the Club, if I were you," said Mac Adam, "and go about as usual. You can do your work early in the day ; and I don't think I should try marker till every thing else failed. This friend of mine might recommend you on." "Well, if I go to the Club, I needn't play duffers like Poyntz any more needn't play at all, in fact, for I can't afford to lose." "Play whist at penny points ; science comes out there. Now, if you like, I'll take you round and introduce you to my brother-sawbones straight away." A few days later MacAdam was smitten with curiosity to see how Tyrawley worked in harness; so he took Fireworks a spin up the parade to Greytown, which is on the sea-front, but at the extreme end of Claretown proper. Here the streets are wide and windy, the houses good, but gray and chilly, trees there are none, and pas- sengers are few; it is intensely respectable and hopelessly dull. MacAdam cast the reins to his groom at the dullest house in the dullest square, 48 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY and was presently confronted by a dingy maid, who admitted him with a reluctant proviso that Dr. Grenfell would be in in a minute. "I say," said MacAdam, " there's a gentleman, a friend of mine, doing some work for Dr. Grenfell here ; I'll go and talk to him meanwhile." He was accordingly shown into a dismal study at the back of the house, whose outlook was a strip of pebbly garden, decorated with a few stunted marigolds. The walls were covered with bookcases, the furniture generally with pamphlets and papers ; shelves held sundry strange and grisly preparations, the fire was dead in the grate, and the atmosphere distinctly chilly. Tyrawley, seated at a table to catch the last light of the autumn evening, was writing, with all the pains- taking accuracy of a new hand. He started up, looking cold and stupefied when MacAdam, leaning over his shoulder, said: "Hallo, old man ' pthisis ' that's not the way to spell ' phthisis ' ! He took the pen from the other's hand and altered the word. " No, I suppose not. I'm always making mis- takes ; but I'm rather cold, and I get thick- headed when I've been at it a long time." " I dare say; can't shake down to it all at once. There's a difference between this and playing billiards at the Club and knocking about the parade." "I should think there was," said Tyrawley, getting up and stretching himself. THE PLEASURES OF RESPECTABILITY 49 "Oh, Mac Adam," he added earnestly, lay- ing his hand on the little man's shoulder, " you don't know the pleasures of respectability ! " " Thank you for the compliment," said the doctor, with a dry chuckle. "Bosh ! I mean for a beggar like me, who has never earned an honest penny. I assure you, when the professor handed over the first few shillings I could have worshipped it like a fetich." " More fool you. And I don't understand, because I know you've been flush enough some- times thanks to Poyntz & Co." " That's just like it. Robbing children and idiots ! But that half-sovereign was fair pay for fair work." " How many hours a day," said the doctor, " may I ask you, do you work in this well of a place ? " "About seven; but pray don't say any thing to Grenfell," in alarm, "or he will think I have been growling, and shunt me." He had seen MacAdam's elevated eyebrows. "H'm, ten shillings for forty-two hours not twopence-halfpenny an hour. The British work- ing-man would turn up his nose to the skies; but old Grenfell always was a stingy customer. Does he give you a decent lunch ? " enquired the doc- tor, casting his eyes suspiciously on a rather unpromising-looking luncheon-tray. " Oh, yes ! all right, when he doesn't forget it 4 50 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY altogether in the pursuit of science," said Tyraw- ley, with rather an awkward laugh. " I can see he despises me awfully if I venture to hint at the discomforts inseparable from matter, even when mind is in question." "Yes," said MacAdam ; "he's a chap with one idea. Outside that, and a faint respect for conventionalities, he is the most selfish beggar that ever lived. Get on with him all right ? " "Perfectly on the principle of the little hymn, 'If I never speaks to him (except on his 'ology), He never speaks to me.' I say here he comes." And Tyrawley sat down in a hurry at his table, while the doctor, amused at his unexpected dis- play of simplicity, went to meet his friend. Professor Otho Grenfell was bald, spectacled, gray, and mouldy ; he looked fifty, and was thirty-eight ; he was unclean as to his linen, and fragments of unpleasant substances contracted in his researches were apt to bestrew his gar- ments. He looked dreamily at MacAdam, gave him a pale nod and three fishy fingers, then turned watchfully on his secretary. "I hope, Mr. Tyrawley," he said, "you've recopied those forty paragraphs. They were quite illegible." "Oh, he's been working like a nigger," said the mendacious MacAdam. "Takes a deep interest " with a faint emphasis on the noun "in your discoveries. But, my dear fellow," he THE PLEASURES OF RESPECTABILITY 51 added, speaking in an undertone, and drawing the professor to the further window, "you look seedy been fagging too hard in this cold room. Give that poor chap a chance, too ; he's got lungs, and he's getting to look like a plant grown in a cellar. You scientists forget you're doctors ; but he is a patient of mine." " Oh, he's well enough," returned the pro- fessor snappishly. "Of course, I'm obliged to you for recommending him ; but he is a very slow writer, and misspells every technical word." " I dare say, poor wretch," said MacAdam " makes his head buzz, I expect, if it's all like what I saw just now." " Do you think it unintelligible?" said Gren- fell, awakened to anxiety. " Do you think the profession " "Oh, they'll understand it," said MacAdam disrespectfully, cutting him short. "By Jove !" he added, rubbing his hands, and turning to the empty fireplace, " it is cold. Have a fire, there's a good chap, and let's have a cup of coffee all round. Fireworks has nearly pulled my arms off, and that poor beggar looks blue. Let him off for ten minutes to get his circulation back, and I'll tell you what I've got for you." "Very well," responded the other ungra- ciously ; but his eye brightened when MacAdam enumerated sundry grisly objects connected with his studies, and he became quite human and conversible over the coffee, and even, in the 52 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TVRAWLEY warmth of his friendship, went with MacAdam to the hall-door. "I say," said the little doctor, buttonholing him mysteriously, " if I were you, I should give Tyrawley rather a bigger salary say fifteen shillings or perhaps you'll lose his services; somebody else might outbid you." "It's quite enough," said the professor warmly. "Any schoolboy, or a clerk in his spare hours " "Yes; but they would talk, and this fellow won't he's a gentleman." So Grenfell, who feared above all things that his great work should be anticipated, ungraciously made the proposed change, to the immense sur- prise of his secretary. Lest Mr. Tyrawley's contentment with his new lot should appear unnatural, it may be re- marked that a virgin soil is usually fertile, and the department of honest labor in his char- acter had been hitherto uncultivated. Your adventurer often displays a childlike simplicity when entirely outside his own business. CHAPTER VI THE DOCTOR'S ADMONITION "I SAY, old fellow," said Tyrawley, meeting MacAdam a few evenings later at the Club, "I wonder if you'd do me a great favor another, I mean." He looked so sheepish that the doctor imme- diately became suspicious. "Want another berth? Chucked up quill- driving?" "Good gracious, no!" said Tyrawley. "On the contrary, even the professor owns I'm get- ting useful. No, old man, I want your opinion about a horse I've been asked to choose for a friend." "I thought you knew all about gee-gees," said MacAdam. "I can testify you know how to ride them, anyhow." "It's one of my large stock of useless accom- plishments; but this is a much more important business, though it is not a purchase, only a job. It's not my neck that is in question, but a lady's." "Fat, fair, and forty," said the doctor mali- ciously. "You stated, I think, that mild, mid- dle-aged flirtations were your line." 54 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY The usually suave Tyrawley bit his lip and looked rather black. "No," said he, with con- straint, "rather the other way. A young lady, almost a child." Sincere emotions equalize character. The polished cynic, inured to self-control, failed to keep the tenderness out of his voice. Mac- Adam was amused, yet sorry, for he foresaw complications. "It must be something quite safe," his friend continued impressively, "with good manners, and good-looking." "People can pay, I suppose?" asked Mac- Adam, looking at him keenly. Even he could not expand to the idea of any sort of disinter- ested affection in the breast of Mr. Tyrawley. The latter perceived this, and replied rather gloomily in the affirmative. But gratitude and need alike prescribed meekness, and he pres- ently added with considerable diffidence, and a rather entreating glance into MacAdam's little twinkling eyes: "And if you'll let me, old man, I should like to introduce you, that you may make your report in person. They are nice people not the least my sort and I've told them you are no end of a judge, and and I should like them to know I have one friend who isn't rowdy." "Rather negative praise," laughed MacAdam. "Do you want me to report on the man as well as the horse ?" THE DOCTOR S ADMONITION 55 Mr. Tyrawley shook his head emphatically. "It would be a case of unsound all round," said he. "But," in extreme deprecation, "you might, if you would, say a good word for a fellow; nobody else will, if you don't." MacAdam screwed up his lips in a whistle, half dubious, half compassionate, but he did not say no perhaps he was curious and an appoint- ment was made for the morrow. Tyrawley having got a holiday, the two men inspected the usual array of broken knees, broken wind, and queer tempers presented by Claretown livery stables. At last, however, a tolerably good-looking bay mare, with good manners and decent forelegs, a little touched in the wind (which was, MacAdam remarked, rather a comfort than otherwise, as it accounted for her being there), was selected, and it was arranged that she should be sent round to Cupola Square to be viewed. " I'll send my man upon another horse, and the lady can try the mare at once, if one of you gentlemen can take her out," said the proprietor. " You had better," said Tyrawley, rather faintly. "Not I," said MacAdam, "I'm not a lady's man; besides, my dear chap, it wouldn't be friendly in me to cut you out." The other smiled mournfully, but made no comment. MacAdam soon made himself at home with 56 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY Mrs. St. Just, who afterward pronounced him "a charming man." He looked covertly at Nina and then at Tyrawley, both of whom had particularly little to say, and was somewhat puzzled. She was certainly pretty, but insipid and young surely not sufficiently striking to account for the embarrassment of the usually fertile Tyrawley. "If it were the money," reasoned the sage physician, "the fellow would have his wits more about him. If it's the other thing, poor chap, he's a perfect lunatic to think any thing can come of it." The lunatic in question was of MacAdam's opinion, but he had not strength of mind to own it to himself. Nina appeared in her riding-habit just as the horses were brought round, and the whole party adjourned to the hall-door to see the bay mare trotted up and down. Then Tyrawley, pulling himself together, deferentially suggested that he might have the honor of taking care of Miss St. Just while she tried the mare. Nina looked at her mother, received assent, and was presently put in her saddle by the doctor, while Tyrawley stood at the mare's head. It was a brief and rather bewildered ride on both sides, though Tyrawley took care of her like father, lover, and riding-master rolled into one. They exchanged scarcely a word or look, and THE DOCTOR S ADMONITION 57 yet, when they dismounted at Cupola Square, there was a tinge of color on Nina's pale cheek, and an aspect of abstracted happiness on Tyrawley's countenance, which made the good- natured doctor uncomfortable, and prevented his enjoying the late St. Just's champagne as he would otherwise have done. Tyrawley got into sad disgrace with the worthy professor that afternoon ; and as the morning's beatitude gradually wore off, felt rather down, without daring to ask himself why. But love is like alcohol or sedatives ; the only remedy for immediate inconvenience is more of it, and yet more. So he managed, with the instinct which is part of this form of madness, to obtain many stray interviews ; on the parade, on the Downs, when Parsons, the riding-master, took out Miss St. Just and Bertie, in the public gardens, and elsewhere. Mrs. St. Just was very kind to him, because he looked ill, and some- times sad. Bertie regarded him with admiring awe; and Nina, when under her mother's wing, talked to him with childlike freedom, but when alone scarcely spoke. MacAdam observed it all and became so uneasy in his mind that at last, after many misgivings, he made up his mind to broach the subject. That we love those we benefit is true, but we also feel that we have a right to reprove them, if necessary; therefore, when Dr. MacAdam invited Tyrawley to his rooms one keen November night, 58 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY he did so with authority; and when Tyrawley obeyed, he came somewhat with the air your dog assumes when he knows that a thrashing is in store for him, and has not quite made up his mind whether to resent it or not. He declined MacAdam's whiskey, perhaps that he might keep cool, a professional gambler dare not be a hard drinker, and he endeavored to look unconscious, as MacAdam, not much liking his job, began bluntly: " I say, old man, how is this to end ? " " My work at the professor's shows no signs of ending, I am thankful to say." "Oh, it's no good fencing; you know well enough what I mean." "What?" said Tyrawley, drawing his eye- brows together, and looking rather wicked. "What's the row?" "Don't get your head down to kick," rejoined MacAdam coolly. " It's no good with me." "No," said the other, with a melancholy sneer. "To carry out the simile, you've got the pull over me; go ahead, stick in the persuaders." " Don't be an ass ! What I want to know is, are you going in for Miss St. Just ? " It was a home thrust. Tyrawley turned white and red, and gnawed his mustache, and Mac- Adam's professional eye noted the rapid, uneven rise of his coat at the left side. "Poor chap! palpitations. It's a bad busi- ness," he thought to himself, but continued, with THE DOCTOR S ADMONITION 59 Spartan firmness, "That's what I want to know." There was a long pause. At last Tyrawley said deliberately, in a low voice: "I suppose I know what you mean. No." He looked MacAdam full in the eyes as he spoke. "I mean," said the latter, rather indignant at what he considered a tolerably direct lie, "do you intend marrying that girl if you can ? " " The proviso is necessary, if only out of re- spect to the lady, who may be supposed to have some voice in the matter. Am I in a position to marry any body ? " " That's an equivocation," said the persistent Scot. " Fellows do all sorts of things they didn't ought. What is the meaning, then, of your hang- ing about Cupola Square, and prowling up and down the parade ? What is it all coming to ? People are beginning to notice it, I tell you, and it isn't fair to the girl. " He was standing up now in a denunciatory attitude, like a small, secular John Knox. Poor Tyrawley writhed under this direct attack. "Oh, MacAdam,"Jie said a little wildly, " do let me alone. I've never been happy in my life, and never really known a good girl till now. I'm doing her no harm; she's only a child. Be- sides, it will soon be over; they are going away next week, and it's a hundred to one if I ever see them again." 60 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY " But, man alive, she'll expect to see you ! " "No, she'll forget all about me, I I hope; worse luck for me ! Oh, you don't know how I feel when I'm with her. I feel as though I were in church, in heaven anywhere holy. One look at her takes all the wickedness out of me. I begin to understand that God is somewhere near; I've even begun to pray, in a sort of way. Don't laugh, Mac Adam, you had a good mother." " I'm very far from laughing," said MacAdam, half touched, half disapproving, "but it's a beastly tangle. I'm hanged if I see a way out." And he walked to and fro in the room, while Tyrawley sat motionless, with his hand over his eyes; and again there was a long silence. At last the doctor stopped, and laid his hand gently on the other's shoulder. Perhaps some vision of youth an old, disappointed dream crossed his mind, for his tone was kind as he said: "Well, it's beyond me. I'm sorry for you, Tyrawley on my soul I am; but I can say no more except, don't entangle her in any corre- spondence, or ask her for any thing decided till she's a year or two older, and you're differently situated." Tyrawley held out his hand silently, and a brief grip was exchanged. But alas! for the weak- ness of man's best resolves. The excellent MacAdam was dismayed when, accompanying Tyrawley some days later to see THE DOCTOR'S ADMONITION 61 the St. Justs off from the Claretown station, he heard the latter give an eager and decided assent to an invitation to spend his Christmas quietly with them at Rooksholm, their place in Berkshire. "And I'm sure," said Mrs. St. Just, "we shall be so glad to see Dr. Mac Adam for a few days. " Tyrawley's face fell. He dreaded those little, quick gray eyes, and that officiously candid tongue. His heart was too strong for his honor, and he could not help a long retention of Nina's slender hand, and a yet longer look, wistful, with all the wistfulness of uncertainty, into her large grave eyes. He shook himself petulantly free of MacAdam's admonishing consolation, and moped about the dull end of the parade till it was time to immure himself in the professor's study. CHAPTER VII THE HAWK IN THE DOVE'S NEST Dr. Mac Adam to Mr. Tyrawley 11 FAIROAKS, ESSEX. " DEAR TYRAWLEY : " Will you take enclosed note to my sister, get from her the key specified, get out the gun (which she, dear old girl, dare not touch to save her life), see that my man cleans it properly, and pack it off to me as soon as you can. "Be sober and civil in your ways to Bess, for she and her old tabbies shake their heads over such as you, and she's a good old soul. The gun is not my only reason for writing; this is another : A cousin of mine, Mrs. Lane, is just returning to Claretown with her son. She is almost crazy because she has found out that this young cub of sixteen has been taken about by a late manservant of hers to billiard-rooms and low pubs, where he has got a taste for cue, balls, and beer; but, as she cannot bear to cross her darling child, and the darling child is as obstinate as a pig, she is fitting him up a billiard-room in their own house on the parade; and she wants to know if I could find any decent fellow who would come there and give her cub lessons in billiards as THE HAWK IN THE DOVE'S NEST 63 played by gentlemen. So I have told her I know a person of unimpeachable morals and manners, who would, as a favor to me, do the needful coaching. She is rolling in money, and can afford to pay well, and is a good soul, not a screw like old Grenfell. Her number is twenty-five, and you can go and arrange with her any day after Tuesday. "I want to hear how you are getting on generally, being a species of godfather to you in the path of humdrum respectability. Does Grenfell still keep your nose to the grindstone as much as ever ? Tell me if, and what, you have heard from our friends of Cupola Square; like- wise if you have written, which I hope you haven't, because it would certainly be the act of a fool, or something worse. ''This remark you must put up with; it is for your own good all unpleasant things are. Weather and people here all that they should be; lots of hunting and shooting, and a tiptop cook. Let me have a long yarn, and don't shy off awkward subjects, or I'll disown you. "Yours, "ALEX. MACADAM." Mr. Tyrawley to Dr. Mac Adam "ALONZO TERRACE, CLARETOWN. "DEAR MACADAM : "Thanks awfully for your letter. I can't think why you should befriend me like this. I 64 THE APOTHEOSIS OF MR. TYRAWLEY took the note at once to your sister, who certainly seemed rather alarmed; but I looked as good a boy as is in me, and was allowed to carry out your wishes under strict supervision. I cleaned the gun myself, so I know it is all right, and I hope you have got it before now. I have given my first lesson to young Lane, who is not nearly so much of a cub as the celebrated Poyntz, and treats me with a respect to which I am totally unaccustomed; but I don't think the boy is chaff- ing. His mother is awfully nice with me, and insists on far too high pay. Mrs. Higson is quite indignant at the punctuality with which I pay my rent, as falsifying her views Of me; she stated that I had waxed fat and kicked. I asked if that was not scriptural. She replied patronizingly that it might be, but gave me to understand that the Little Elijahs had got considerably in advance of the Bible. The professor is much as usual. The day before yesterday he was so wrapped up in the book that he entirely omitted the trivial matter of lunch. He occasionally demands frag- ments of the skin of my arm, to which he seems to think he has a lawful claim. I asked what they were for, but the explanation was worse than the pinch. Still, from interested motives, I love and revere him. "You ask me some home questions, old man, but I admit you have the right. I have not written to the St. Justs, perhaps for the reason you state, but Mrs. St. Just has written to me, THE HAWK IN THE DOVE'S NEST 65 and I certainly mean to answer her letter, and I must abide the consequences. " I also intend to go there at Christmas, for I never in my vagabond life spent a family Christ- mas, and I want to know what it is like. I don't see that it is any body's business if I like to burn my own fingers; there are some things so pure they can touch pitch and not be defiled; and if I do cry for the moon, the moon will be none the worse, and shine just as well for some worthier worshipper; which is a parable. Don't think this is impudent cheek. I shall never forget your kindness to such a ruffian; but even a ruf- fian may have a touch of feeling, or sentiment, or whatever you may like to call it. I have got into an awkward hole by refusing to introduce one of my old chums and a wife he has lately taken to himself to the few decentish people I know here. She is all right, but he is such a rip, and such a howling cad as well, that I could not find it in the embryo I dignify by the name of conscience. " Mrs. Warner (;//