luck you'll be sure to know it; and I only ask that you will do the same by me."
I gave him my hand, and then we ordered two portions of brandy and a bottle of Apollinaris.
While we were disposing of this, and still smoking our cigars, the portières of our alcove were pulled suddenly apart, and a rough, unshaved face thrust in at the aperture, and as quickly withdrawn. Although it was for only an instant, I recognized the face as that of the sailor I had seen on the Thames boat. Torrence frowned, but did not look surprised.
When we got up to go, Torrence insisted on paying the bill out of his portion, which he did; and then, just as we were about to pass out into the stormy street, the same rough, dirty looking sailor approached us from one of the alcoves.
"Another word with you, stranger," said the man, advancing and touching his hat to Torrence.
"Certainly," as if he had never seen the fellow before, and then turning to me, Torrence added:
"Would you mind waiting a minute, Gurt, while I speak to this man?" and without another word, the twain entered one of the alcoves. I amused myself looking at some fish in an aquarium that stood near the entrance, and in watching the great flakes of snow falling against the glass panel of the door. How long I remained thus occupied is difficult to guess, but it seemed interminable. The sailor had taken the precaution to draw the curtains after him, so it was impossible to hear anything they said, and even the sound of their voices was drowned by the clatter of dishes, the tramping of waiters, and the noise of arriving and departing guests. At last the interview was ended, and my brother came out with rather a singular expression, as I thought, and we started for home.
"And what does he want?" I asked as we trudged along the sidewalk.
Torrence laughed; and then, as if thinking of how to reply, said:
"Oh, he's a lunatic! Wants the loan of twenty pounds on a house and lot he says he owns down in Deptford. Sailors are generally cranky, you know, and I thought I would talk with him a little just to get his ideas, and see if it would be worth our while to risk the venture, with the possibility of becoming the owner of his property. But I'm convinced the fellow's a fraud."
"If he's a lunatic I think you must be a greater one!" I exclaimed, and then feeling sure that he was putting me off with nonsense to avoid questioning, I turned the subject, and commenced talking about the weather. We did not allude to the sailor again, and I concluded that Torrence had simply run across some poor fellow who he thought might be useful to him, although how, I could not imagine.
The next morning we separated, and I waved Torrence a farewell as he took his seat on an omnibus, with Gladstone bag and umbrella. I stood watching him until the 'bus had turned a corner, and then directed my steps toward Paternoster row, with a bundle of MSS. under my arm.
I do not propose to harrow myself with a recital of the bitter disappointments I underwent in that quarter of the city, nor is it important for the identification of the Attlebridges as the real participants in the marvels about to be recounted, that I should do more than allude to the fact that the firm of Crumb & Crumpet, after much haggling as to terms, long and tedious discussion regarding merit and character, finally refused my book, as well as all shorter papers submitted to them; a fact which those gentlemen will doubtless remember, should their attention be called to it.
Our lodgings were dreary enough at best, but now that I was alone they seemed unbearable. Beyond my own gloomy feelings, I was made to participate in those of my landlady, who constantly annoyed me with accounts of her financial difficulties; her inability to pay her rent, and the dread that she would be evicted. Greatly against my better judgment, she succeeded in coaxing me into the loan of a pound, a thing I could not afford, but which I did, partly out of sympathy, and partly to get rid of her importunities.
I now occupied myself in preparing a paper on the psychological evolution of the ape, which I hoped to be able to place with another publisher, and which, had it ever been finished, I cannot doubt would have succeeded; but circumstances intervened before the completion of the last pages, which compelled me to relinquish my work, and so the world must suffer. I continued my labor steadily for more than a week, and then began looking anxiously for my brother's return, and took several long walks in the direction from which I believed he would be coming; but I did not meet him, and returned home, each time a little disheartened. During these evenings I retired early, having no one for company, and not being able to afford outside amusement. At the end of ten days I had been so economical that I was quite satisfied with the standing of my finances, and felt lighter-hearted than at any time since arriving. Still I had found nothing to do but write, and the future was uncertain.
Sunday morning was dark and gloomy, and it having been nearly two weeks since Torrence had left, I began to wonder with increased anxiety what had become of him. I had a right to expect him by now, but had neither seen nor heard a word from him since his departure. Could anything have happened? I did not believe it, and knowing how averse he was to letter writing, set it down to the fact that he was busy; and I sincerely hoped profitably so. Still I passed the day in gloomy forebodings, and resolved to go to Gravesend the following morning. That night, however, as I was going to my room, the servant handed me a letter, and I did not realize until I had read it, how anxious I was becoming. The letter ran as follows:
"20 NARROW LANE, GRAVESEND.
Sunday Morning.
"DEAR GURT: Sorry, but can't get over to-day as I expected. Will try and come before next Lord's day. How's the book? Keep your mouth straight, and don't get discouraged,
Yours,
"TORRY."
It wasn't much of a letter, but it was better than nothing, and I was thankful for it. I put it in my pocket, and gave up all thought of Gravesend for the present. Evidently Torrence had found something to occupy him, and I didn't believe he was a man to work long for nothing, but felt provoked that he had not told me what it was. True, I had never written to him, which he had told me to do in Wetherbee's care, should there be anything to write about; but as there wasn't I felt justified in my silence. However, I should now see him soon, and comforted myself with the thought that all was well.
During the ensuing week, I answered several advertisements, in the hope of finding employment, for despite the satisfaction felt in my ability to economize, there were moments when the reflection that I was making absolutely nothing would come upon me with such force, that I grew despondent, and would gladly have welcomed anything offering even the smallest return. But every effort to find work was unavailing; evidently London was overcrowded.
Another week passed without Torrence, and when the following Sunday came and went without bringing him, I became not only impatient but provoked. Why could he not run up to see me? It certainly seemed strange. Had he not been so emphatic in requesting me to let him alone, I should have gone to Gravesend long before. But here was I scarcely daring to leave the house, fearing that he would come and go in my absence.
A few days after this an incident occurred which placed me in a most unfortunate predicament. My landlady came to me with tears in her eyes, saying she would be dispossessed immediately if unable to raise ten pounds. She assured me that if I would advance her a part of the money she would – but why go into details – I was swindled out of much more than I could afford to lose; I had lost a friend, and injured my chances of success, and not only was the landlady dispossessed, but all her lodgers as well. I was obliged at once to find new quarters, and with greatly reduced means. Things now looked very squally, and I firmly believed the poorhouse was in the next block, and that I might stumble upon it any day, without warning. I wrote at once to Torrence to tell him of the change in my situation and circumstances, and urging him to come immediately for a consultation. By return mail, I got the following answer:
"20 NARROW LANE, GRAVESEND.
"DEAR GURT: Sorry to hear of your bad luck, but don't fret about a trifle. A handful of gold more or less isn't worth a thought. A begger can pick it up on London Bridge without being much the better for it, and as I told you before, a day or two sooner or later at his majesty's hothouse won't count much in eternity. I shall be with you in a day or two, and hunt you up in your new quarters. Now be thankful you got off so cheap, and don't worry. I have been awfully