And so he was. Willie Dove was speaking in the kindest and gentlest way possible of the man who had refused to help him in his need.
“Well, I hope Mr. McNason will live many years yet,” he said—“and that he will learn how to enjoy and get the best out of the large fortune he has made. The amount of good he could do if he liked is simply incalculable—and if he would only use some of his money just for the sole purpose of benefiting others, and would not merely put it out like a magnet to draw more money in again, he would be the happiest man alive. For instance, if instead of subscribing large sums to charities which are presided over by ‘committees’ who use up half the money for their own expenses, he would go himself among the poor and personally relieve them at first hand,—if he would try to help those who are, with great difficulty, trying to help themselves,—those who cannot borrow and will not beg,—if he would just put himself out a bit——”
“Ah, that’s just what he won’t do!” interposed Pitt—“He can’t see anything or anybody but Himself—that’s the pity of it!”
“Poor soul!” said Mrs. Dove, gently—“We mustn’t forget that he lost his only son,—a dear little boy!—and that may have embittered him. All our children have been mercifully spared to us, thank God!—but even if one had been taken, I’m sure we should always have been thinking of that one! And his ‘one’ was his all! We must remember that! And however hard he is upon us, we mustn’t be hard upon him! That wouldn’t be keeping Christmas rightly!”
At this Josiah turned and flung himself desperately against the Goblin’s paunch.
“Take me away!” he muttered, finding his speech with an effort—“Take me out of this! I—I don’t want to stop here! I want to get away—QUICK!”
“‘Coals of fire,’ eh?” said the Goblin—“A trifle scorching, even on a thick skull like yours, McNason! So you’d forgotten Willie Dove, had you? Curious! He was always a very excellent fellow, though, and one of the best men in your employ. The honour of the firm was the first thing with him at all times, and you owe to his hard work and straight principles more than you have the honesty to acknowledge! But it’s no use trying to tip the balance of things, McNason! That balance always rights itself! Good is good, and evil is evil,—you can’t make one out to be the other, however much you try! If you’re spiteful, if you’re mean, if you’re unthankful for the blessings bestowed on you—and more than all, if you refuse to help those who have helped you, you are punished! You are, really! And a good sound flogging you get, I can tell you! Oh Beelzebub!—don’t I know this! When I was a Churchwarden——”
“Will you do as I ask you?” implored Josiah, desperately, “Get me out of this! I want to go home!”
“Poor old baby! Wants to go home, does it!” jeered the Goblin—“Oh, but it mustn’t be naughty! It must go where its nursey takes it! Just another little ridey-pidey in its coachy-poachy!” And rising aloft on its skeleton toes, the Goblin grew larger and more threatening of aspect, while its bat-wings, slowly unfurling, seemed spreading out so darkly and interminably that Josiah fell on his knees in terror—“Just another taste of the ‘supernatural,’ McNason! Just another little experience of Hell’s United Empire Club!”
“No, no!” gasped the trembling millionaire—“Let me get home! Give me a chance to—to——”