“Fresh trouble!” ejaculated Mr. Carlaw. “Would that any trouble which I suffered could, in any sense of the word, be termed ’fresh’! They are all too old and stale for that. I am buried to the neck in them, am forever struggling to the lips in a horrid sea of them, expecting to be drowned every moment. Once or twice a generous fellow, who shall be nameless”—he squeezed Comethup’s arm—“has thrown, to carry the metaphor further, a life-line to me, and has drawn me ashore for a space. But ill fortune has thrust me back again in time, and each time I seem to sink deeper than ever. But enough of myself; I am the emissary of others.” He said it with an air as though he felt it conferred a distinction upon him that he was not on this occasion personally begging.
“Of others?” inquired Comethup, looking round at him.
“Yes; it is not for myself I plead. I do not know, by the way, that I have ever really pleaded for myself; your generosity has merely anticipated my necessities. Mine is a nature which, foolishly enough from the world’s point of view, places self last; it has ever been my way. But I have taken this journey, on the present occasion, because I can not see those who are dear to me—my flesh and blood, so to speak—perishing, while the world looks on with careless eyes. I am a father, and I feel the responsibilities more than might be imagined. I have watched my son’s career; I have seen men prick their ears at the mention of his name and nod sagely; I have——”
Comethup was too impatient to hear more of the preamble. He seemed to scent disaster in the very air, and broke in upon the other’s slow words impatiently. “Yes, yes; but tell me at once what you mean, why you are here, and what’s happened. Of course, if Brian is in want, you know that I shall be only too glad to——”
“My dear nephew, you anticipate my meaning at once. It is only the truly generous soul that can see deep into the heart of distress, as it were, in a moment. I will not disguise from you the fact that these young people, who have rashly, but with a very beautiful confidence in Providence, I think, entered upon a union which naturally increases expenses—I will not disguise from you the fact that they are in want—that we all are in want. I—I have recently, from motives of economy, taken up my residence with them, and that close intimacy has enabled me to see clearly that which my son’s natural pride has kept from my knowledge. Sir, I can bear it no longer. I said to myself, ‘These young people shall not suffer before my eyes. I will sacrifice everything for them; I will humble my pride; I will approach our former benefactor.’ And I am here.”
“I’m dreadfully sorry to hear what you say,” replied Comethup. “Of course I had no idea that Brian would be in such straits as you describe. I shall be returning to England within a few days; perhaps I shall be able to see him. In the meantime, perhaps you will allow me to give you—I beg your pardon, lend you—a sum of money, and you can then hasten back to them. I trust they are not—not in actual want?”
“Their credit, up to the moment, has, I rejoice to say, remained good; but even that is on the point of exhaustion, and after that—well, I tremble. So you see, when it came to a crisis I informed my son that I would seek you. With the natural hesitation of a proud man, he refused at first to listen to such a suggestion; but I prevailed, took sufficient for my journey, on the most economical principles, and, as I said before, here I am.”
“I have only a little over thirty pounds with me,” said Comethup, “but, as I shall be returning to London immediately, that will suffice for your present need. You return to England at once?”
“To-morrow morning,” replied Mr. Robert Carlaw, thrusting the money into his breast pocket. “To-night I shall sleep soundly, for the first time for many weeks; I do not sleep soundly when I am troubled about those who are near and dear to me. Yes, I return to-morrow morning.”
They parted, and Comethup went slowly back to the hotel. No mention had been made by his aunt about any probable date of return; they had merely wandered from city to city as the whim took them, Miss Carlaw having always in her mind the desire to teach him forgetfulness. Therefore, when he went to her that night and stated, with what carelessness he might, that he should like to return to London at once, she was naturally somewhat startled. Even while he was speaking and urging excuses for no longer remaining abroad she was casting about in her mind to discover the real reason of this step he contemplated; she began at last to fear that she understood the reason only too well.