Chapter Eight.
I know a Bank.
Jonah Trimble may not have been a genius of the first water, but he was at least wise enough to know that he could not both have his cake and eat it. His discovery of Jeffreys’ villainy was a most appetising cake, and it wanted some little self-denial to keep his own counsel about it, and not spoil sport by springing his mine until all the trains were laid.
Another consideration, moreover, which prevented his taking immediate action was that Jeffreys was extremely useful at Galloway House, and could not be spared just yet—even to the gallows. In a few months’ time, when the good name of the school, which had rapidly risen since he came upon the scene, was well established, things might be brought to a climax. Meanwhile Jonah Trimble would keep his eye on his man, read his Eugene Aram, and follow up his clues.
Jeffreys awoke on the following morning with a feeling of oppression on his mind which for a little time he could not define. It was not his guardian’s words, bitter as they had been; it was not the insolence of his fellow-usher, intolerable as that was becoming. When at last his wandering thoughts came in and gave the trouble shape, he found it took a much more practical form. He was in debt seven pounds to Mr Frampton. It never occurred to him to wonder whether Mr Halgrove had been telling him the truth or not, nor to his unbusinesslike mind did it occur that his guardian, as the trustee responsible for what money he once had, was liable for the debt, however much he might like to repudiate it.
No; all he knew was that Mr Frampton was owed seven pounds, and that he himself had nothing, or next to nothing, to pay. By hard saving during the six months he had managed to save a sovereign, but of this only last week he had spent the greater part in boots and clothing. Now his worldly wealth consisted of four shillings! He was down early that morning, and was relieved to find that Mrs Trimble was in the parlour alone, without her son. The good lady was in an amiable mood. The school was getting on, and something told her that it was not greatly due either to her own exertions or the influence of Jonah. Therefore, being a mathematical old lady, she subtracted herself and Jonah from the present school staff, and came to the conclusion that Jeffreys must have had a hand in the improvement.
“Young man,” said she, in reply to her assistant’s greeting, “you’ve been with me six months. Are you comfortable?”
“Pretty well,” said Jeffreys. “I’m very fond of my boys, and I always get on comfortably with you.”
The mathematical dame once more went to work, and answered, “You and Jonah don’t hit it, I suppose. You don’t know Jonah, young man. He may not be easily satisfied, but he’s a gentleman.”
“I’m sure,” said Jeffreys, to whom this tribute seemed the last he should expect to hear bestowed on his amiable fellow-usher, “I try to get on with him, and shall go on trying.”