“Well,” observed Jeremiah, “I don’t know what to say or what to think about it; but, if he is cracked—humph! I don’t know. It may be so. However, there’s no harm done yet.”
“So he’s been cramming you, eh!” said mine host. “Made you a present of the moon, perhaps? They do fancy strange things, and think themselves kings, and very rich in particular.”
The truth of this latter assertion made an impression upon our worthy shopkeeper, who communicated it to his wife; but she had taken a great fancy to the odd old gentleman, and was not to be shaken in her conviction that he would really be “as good as his word.”
“Well,” observed her husband, “time will show; and, at all events, it was no bad thing to sell six pieces of fine linen at once. We don’t have such customers every day. However, the best thing we can do is, to keep our own secret; for, if the neighbours were to hear of it, we should never hear the last of it.”
Mrs Wag agreed in the propriety of her spouse’s suggestion; but, nevertheless, was unable to refrain from dropping hints to sundry gossips concerning her anticipations of coming good fortune; and the vagueness and mysterious importance of her manner created a sensation, and caused many strange surmises. Some decided that the Wags had been so imprudent as to purchase a whole lottery ticket, and blamed them accordingly; while others shook their heads, and hinted that, with so large a family, it would be a very fortunate circumstance if Jeremiah could manage so as not to go back in the world; and, for their parts, they never liked to hear folks talk mysteriously about good luck: so, for some time, the stranger’s visit appeared to have produced results somewhat the reverse of beneficial; but, at the end of a month, an elderly gentleman, dressed in black, entered the shop, and requested a private interview with Mr Wag; and as the back parlour was full of little Wags, then undergoing the ceremonies of ablution, combing, &c., he proposed that they should adjourn to the King’s Arms.
When they were seated there, the stranger very deliberately proceeded to arrange a variety of papers upon the table in a business-like manner; and when his task was completed, apparently to his satisfaction, he smiled, rubbed his hands, and thus addressed the wondering shopkeeper,
“My name is Stephen Goodfellow. I am an attorney, living in London; and there” (handing a card) “is my address. You will probably guess who is my client, but my instructions are to conceal his name. Well, he has consulted with me as to the best mode of carrying your intention of increasing your business into effect, and I have, consequently, had interviews with certain commercial gentlemen, and, ahem! the result is, that as the thing must be done gradually, I have to present you, in the first place, with this order for a thousand pounds. You will then be so good as to sign this document, by reading which you will perceive that you cannot be called upon for repayment before the expiration of three years. Ahem! don’t interrupt me. That will do to begin with; but, after a little while, as you must give credit, and some of your commodities, particularly grocery, amount to considerable sums, you may want more, so—ahem!—yes, this is the paper. You are to put your usual signature here; and, mark me, in precisely six months from this day, an account will be opened in your name with the London bankers, whose check-book I now present you with. They will have assets in their hands, and instructions to honour your drafts for any sum or sums not exceeding four thousand pounds. You understand?”
“I hear what you say, sir,” stammered Jeremiah; “but, really, I’m so astonished, that——”
“Well, well,” observed Mr Goodfellow, smiling, “it certainly is not an everyday transaction; but my respected client is a little eccentric, and so we must allow him to do things in his own way. He has taken a fancy to you, that’s clear; and when he takes anything in hand, he doesn’t mind trifles.”
“But so much!” exclaimed Mr Wag. “One thousand—four thousand—five thousand pounds! It is like a dream! Surely, sir,” and he hesitated; “surely the gentleman can’t be in—ahem!—in—his—right senses?”