“If I could feel convinced,” was the reply, “that you would at once break off from your present associates, and that you would seriously set about retrenching, I would undertake to procure for you the hundred pounds you require—nay, I would make myself responsible for it.”
Frank sat down, and buried his face in his hands.
“Oh, help me, Hubert,” he cried, “and I will promise all you wish. I will pay off old debts as far as possible, and will incur no new ones. I will keep myself out of harm’s way; and will take to old friends, if they will receive me again. Can I say more?”
“Will you not become a genuine pledged abstainer? And will you not pray for grace to keep your good resolution?”
“Well, as far as the total abstinence is concerned, I will think about it.”
“And will you not pray for strength?”
“Oh, of course—of course.”
And Frank went off with a light heart, the present pressure being removed. Hubert procured the money for him. And now for a time there was a decided outward improvement. Frank was startled to find how rapidly he was being brought, by his expensive habits, to the brink of ruin. He tore himself, therefore, from his gay associates, and was often a visitor at “The Rocks.” But he did not give up the drink. He contrived, by dexterous management, to keep up the stock in his bed-room, without the knowledge of either Jacob or Mrs Watson. But one day he sent Jacob for a powder-flask which he had left on his dressing-table, having forgotten, through inadvertence, to lock his cupboard door or remove a spirit-bottle from his table. Jacob remained staring at the bottle, and then at the open hamper in the closet, as if fascinated by the gaze of some deadly serpent. He stood there utterly forgetting what he was sent for, till he heard Frank’s voice impatiently calling him. Then he rushed out empty-handed and bewildered till he reached his master’s presence.
“Well, Jacob, where’s the powder-flask? Why, man, what’s scared your wits out of you? You haven’t seen a boggart, as you tell me they call a ghost in Lancashire?”
“I’ve seen what’s worse nor ten thousand boggarts, Mayster Frank,” said Jacob, sorrowfully.