“Good heavens!” he interrupted quickly—“Bad news travels fast as a rule they say,—but you have missed it ... and I confess I don’t like to be the bearer of it ...”
He broke off, and his genial face looked troubled. I smiled,—yet wondered.
“Pray speak out!” I said—“I don’t think you can tell me anything that will deeply affect me,—now. I know the best and worst of most things in the world, I assure you!”
He eyed me dubiously;—then, going into his smoking-cabin, [p 480] he brought me out an American newspaper seven days old. He handed it to me pointing to its leading columns without a word. There I saw in large type—“A Millionaire Ruined! Enormous Frauds! Monster Forgeries! Gigantic Swindle! On the track of Bentham and Ellis!”
My brain swam for a minute,—then I read on steadily, and soon grasped the situation. The respectable pair of lawyers whom I had implicitly relied on for the management of all my business affairs in my absence, had succumbed to the temptation of having so much cash in charge for investment,—and had become a pair of practised swindlers. Dealing with the same bank as myself, they had forged my name so cleverly that the genuineness of the signature had never been even suspected,—and, after drawing enormous sums in this way, and investing in various ‘bubble’ companies with which they personally were concerned, they had finally absconded, leaving me almost as poor as I was when I first heard of my inherited fortune. I put aside the paper, and looked up at the good captain, who stood watching me with sympathetic anxiety.
“Thank you!” I said—“These thieves were my trusted lawyers,—and I can cheerfully say that I am much more sorry for them than I am for myself. A thief is always a thief,—a poor man, if he be honest, is at any rate the thief’s superior. The money they have stolen will bring them misery rather than pleasure,—of that I am convinced. If this account be correct, they have already lost large sums in bogus companies,—and the man Bentham, whom I thought the very acme of shrewd caution has sunk an enormous amount of capital in a worn-out gold mine. Their forgeries must have been admirably done!—a sad waste of time and cleverness. It appears too that the investments I have myself made are worthless;—well, well!—it does not matter,—I must begin the world again, that’s all!” He looked amazed.
“I don’t think you quite realize your own misfortune, Mr Tempest”—he said—“You take it too quietly by half. You’ll think worse of it presently.”
“I hope not!” I responded, with a smile—“It never does [p 481] to think the worst of anything. I assure you I realize perfectly. I am in the world’s sight a ruined man,—I quite understand!”
He shrugged his shoulders with quite a desperate air, and left me. I am convinced he thought me mad,—but I knew I had never been so sane. I did indeed entirely comprehend my ‘misfortune,’ or rather the great chance bestowed on me of winning something far higher than all the coffers of Mammon; I read in my loss of world’s cash the working of such a merciful providence and pity as gave me a grander hope than any I had ever known. Clear before me rose the vision of that most divine and beautiful necessity of happiness,—Work!—the grand and too often misprized Angel of Labour, which moulds the mind of man, steadies his hands, controls his brain, purifies his passions, and strengthens his whole mental and physical being. A rush of energy and health filled my veins,—and I thanked God devoutly for the golden opportunities held out afresh for me to accept and use. Gratitude there should be in every human soul for every gift of heaven,—but nothing merits more thankfulness and praise to the Creator than the call to work, and the ability to respond to it.
England at last! I bade farewell to the good ship that had rescued me, and to all on board her, most of whom now knew my name and looked upon me with pity as well as curiosity. The story of my being wrecked on a friend’s yacht was readily accepted,—and the subject of that adventure was avoided, as the general impression was that my friend, whoever he was, had been drowned with his crew, and that I was the one survivor. I did not offer any further explanation, and was content to so let the matter rest, though I was careful to send both the captain and the ship’s doctor a handsome recompense for their united attention and kindness. I have reason to believe, from the letters they wrote me, that they were more than satisfied with the sums received, and that I really did some actual good with those few last fragments of my vanished wealth.