“We had to fill up your place, my dear chap, and the new man has proved quite satisfactory. It is, of course, awfully hard on you. But, you see, I can’t sack him to put you in his place.”
“Of course not,” answered Nello quietly. Misery was gnawing at his heart, but he was just. The man who was taken on had possibly been in the same state of wretchedness as himself. He would hardly have cared to turn him out, if Gay had been willing.
“And how is the dear old Papa?” asked Gay, trying to relieve an awkward situation with the inquiry.
“He is very ill; not far from death, I fear,” was Nello’s answer. And then the truth, which he could no longer conceal, flashed out. “And very soon he will be close to starvation.”
Gay looked shocked. He had experienced his ups and downs, but he had never been in such a tight corner as this. He fumbled in his waistcoat pocket and produced a sovereign, which he thrust into the other man’s hand.
“Terrible, terrible! I am sorry I cannot do more; but I am a poor man, too.”
Nello took it, but his face burned, it was such obvious charity.
“I accept it, Monsieur, with gratitude, and I thank you for the kind thought. But can you help me to find work? I want to earn money, not to beg it.”
“Sit down a moment while I think.” The kind-hearted conductor was very distressed himself at the piteous state of affairs.
“I have it,” he exclaimed after a few moments of reflection. “You have heard of Paul Degraux?”