“Who’s there?” he cried, before opening the door.
“Me, old king of trumps!” cried a voice which he knew to be Frank’s. The minute after, the wretched young man staggered in almost helpless. Next day was a season of bitter sorrow, self-reproach, and remorse; but, alas! not to be followed by any real amendment, for Frank was now seldom home till late, though he was never again grossly intoxicated. But a shadow had now settled habitually on his once bright and open countenance, which Jacob could not quite understand, and which was almost more sad to him than the degrading flush and vacant stare produced by excess in drink. Something dreadful was amiss, he was sure, but he could not tell, and hardly dare conjecture what it might be. Very, very loth then was he to go, when the time came for his leaving his master entirely to his own devices. He would gladly have put off his journey, but Frank would not hear of it, and was evidently annoyed when Jacob urged the matter. So it was finally settled that he should be away for a few days, not exceeding a fortnight. The night but one before his intended departure, Jacob was pleased to find that his master did not leave home, but took his tea at his lodgings, a very unusual thing of late. After tea he made Jacob come and sit with him, and they had a long talk over Australian matters, and the events of their late voyage. At last Frank said,—
“Jacob, I don’t wish to pry into your concerns, or to ask questions which you may not like to answer. I hope, however, that you will not scruple to ask my advice on any matter in which I can be of service to you.”
“Well, thank you, sir,” replied Jacob, with a sort of embarrassment in his manner, “you’re very kind, but I’ve reasons just now why I’d like to say as little as possible about myself to any one. If I find them as I’m going to seek, I may have much to say; but maybe I may find things so as’ll make it better I should forget as ever I’d any belonging me.”
“Just so,” said his master; “you must be the best judge of your own matters, and I would not intrude on your private concerns for a moment; only I should just like to know what you mean to do with your bag of nuggets; you must be careful where you put it. It would be hardly wise to carry it about with you, if you don’t mean to turn it into money at present.”
Jacob was troubled at the question, yet he could hardly tell why; he answered, however,—
“Well, Mayster Frank, I’m not thinking of meddling with my nuggets at present.”
“Hadn’t you better then leave them with me till you return?” asked Frank.
Poor Jacob was sorely puzzled what to reply. He looked down, and there was an awkward pause. At last he said,—
“I cannot rightly tell what’ll be the best to do. Mayster Oldfield, you mustn’t be offended, but I’d better be plain and outspoken. You’d not mean to wrong me of a farthing, I know; but you must be well aware you’re not always your own mayster. So if you cannot keep your own brass safe, I can hardly think it wise to trust you to take charge of mine. I don’t wish to vex you, Mayster Frank, but that’s just the honest truth.”