At the Sign of the Silver Flagon

by B. L. Farjeon

He looked over his shoulder with an air of fear. Mr. Hart noticed the motion with surprise.

"You used not to be nervous," observed Mr. Hart. "Why do you say that?" asked Mr. Weston.

"You looked over your shoulder just now so strangely and nervously. Almost as though you expected to see a ghost."

Mr. Weston shuddered. "I can tell you the story as we walk on. It will take but a short time, although it commences more than twenty years ago. A relative whom I had seen but once in my childhood died in a distant land, and made me his executor. He was a very wealthy man, and his will was a singular one. I was the only relative to whom he left a legacy, and indeed I believe the only relative who was living. He divided his money between me and twelve other persons. All these others were strangers to him, and he became acquainted with their names in the following manner. It seems that he loved his mother with a very deep affection; when she died, he discovered that she had left a diary, and in its pages he learnt that she had suffered much in her early days, before her son was born. She had led a wandering life in her youth, every particular of which was set down in her diary, and in it she mentioned the names of persons who had been kind to her in her wanderings; in one page of her diary occurred the words: 'It would render me very happy to be able to repay them for their great goodness to me. What did the son do when he grew rich but place himself in communication with a London lawyer, who was instructed to trace all these persons, and to ascertain the fullest particulars of themselves and their circumstances? Some had died and left no issue; some had died and left children; he kept himself acquainted with all their careers, and shortly before his death he made a will, devising the whole of his wealth to these persons, and naming me as his executor. You must remember, Gerald, that he had never seen one of these persons, and that he was totally unacquainted with their characters; when, by-and-by, you hear the full particulars, you will know why I mention this; I will only say here that two young persons, a young lady and a young gentleman, were left in the guardianship of a man whom I cannot think of without a shudder. They fell in love with each other; but their guardian, to whom their share of the money left would revert in case of their death, set himself resolutely against their union; he held absolute control over them, and the result of his conduct was that they met with a tragic end; they drowned themselves, and were found dead, clasped in each other's arms. But I am wandering from the thread of the story. This will came home to me, and all the persons interested in it were summoned together. The place of meeting was a principal room in the Silver Flagon; and at the appointed time we met. It was a strange gathering; we were all strangers to one another; yet you can understand that the circumstance of our being brought together made us friends at once. When the will was read every person present found that he had become rich, in a strange and wonderful manner. There were in all thirteen of us. Exhilarated by the pleasantness of the occasion, and excited by its novelty, we ordered dinner at the Silver Flagon, and sat down to dinner--thirteen in number. Upon this number being ascertained, the usual theme was started: one of the thirteen was sure to die before twelve months had passed. Said one, a Merry fellow, Reuben Thorne by name, 'Let us prove the falseness of this old-time absurdity. Here we are made rich and comfortable for all our lives; here we are brought together by an extraordinary circumstance, and forced into friendship by the gratitude of a man whose money we are going to spend in the enjoyment of the good things of this life. One of the best things in life is a good dinner; another of the best things in life is good companionship. Let us enter into a compact to dine here all together in this very room in the jolly Silver Flagon, every year, on the anniversary of this happy day.' Now, in the will there was a sentence to the effect that the legator would be glad if those to whom he bequeathed his money would become friends; and this proposal of Reuben Thorne's seemed to open a way to this consummation. Elated and excited, we there and then entered into a solemn compact, drawn up and signed by every one of us, to meet regularly every year, and dine together as we were doing on that day. And furthermore we solemnly pledged ourselves to have no more than thirteen at the table, and that, as one and another died, his chair and place at the table should be kept for him, and that the vacant chair should receive all the attention which would be given to it if a living person occupied the seat. This compact, solemnly made, was solemnly kept. Year after year we met; one died, another died; the young lovers I have mentioned were found dead in the river; chair after chair became vacant; and still every year the dinner for thirteen was served in the old room in the Silver Flagon. Gerald, I have outlived them all; for two years I have dined alone. Of all those thirteen I am the only one left."

"A strange story indeed," remarked Mr. Hart; and respecting his companion's evident desire not to speak further on the subject, he preserved silence--a silence broken presently by Mr. Weston saying:

"A little while ago, Gerald, you made a remark which surprised me. You spoke of your eager hunt after gold. If I have grown somewhat nervous, you also are changed in this respect, supposing you meant what you said."

"I did mean it. All my body and soul, all my pulses were wrapt up in the hunt. Ah! you little know what the gold fever is."

"But that you should have it, Gerald! You of all men in the world--you who once despised money, and set it at naught!"

"As I despise it and set it at naught now, in comparison with other and better things. Truly, I believe that there was a fair excuse for my giving way to the fever. I wanted money, Richard--not for myself, for another. Yes, no purely selfish motive influenced me. But you shall hear all by-and-by--that is, if----"

"Speak, Gerald."