CHAPTER XIV.
CROCKER'S DISTRESS.
When Midsummer came Paradise Row was alive with various interests.There was no one there who did not know something of the sad story ofMarion Fay and her love. It was impossible that such a one as LordHampstead should make repeated visits to the street without notice.When Marion returned home from Pegwell Bay, even the potboy at TheDuchess of Edinburgh knew why she had come, and Clara Demijohnprofessed to be able to tell all that passed at the interview nextday. And there was the great "Duca" matter;--so that Paradise Rowgenerally conceived itself to be concerned on all questions ofnobility, both Foreign and British. There were the Ducaites and theanti-Ducaites. The Demijohn faction generally, as being under theinfluence of Crocker, were of opinion that George Roden being a Dukecould not rid himself of his ducal nature, and they were loud intheir expression of the propriety of calling the Duke Duke whetherhe wished it or no. But Mrs. Grimley at The Duchess was warm on theother side. George Roden, according to her lights, being a clerk inthe Post Office, must certainly be a Briton, and being a Briton, andtherefore free, was entitled to call himself whatever he pleased.She was generally presumed to enunciate a properly constitutionaltheory in the matter, and, as she was a leading personage in theneighbourhood, the Duca was for the most part called by his old name;but there were contests, and on one occasion blows had been struck.All this helped to keep life alive in the Row.
But there had arisen another source of intense interest. SamuelCrocker was now regularly engaged to marry Miss Demijohn. There hadbeen many difficulties before this could be arranged. Crocker notunnaturally wished that a portion of the enormous wealth which rumourattributed to Mrs. Demijohn should be made over to the bride on hermarriage. But the discussions which had taken place between him andthe old lady on the matter had been stormy and unsuccessful. "It's asort of thing that one doesn't understand at all, you know," Crockerhad said to Mrs. Grimley, giving the landlady to understand that hewas not going to part with his own possession of himself withoutadequate consideration. Mrs. Grimley had comforted the young man byreminding him that the old lady was much given to hot brandy andwater, and that she could not "take her money with her where she wasgoing." Crocker had at last contented himself with an assurance thatthere should be a breakfast and a trousseau which was to cost L100.With the promise of this and the hope of what brandy-and-water mightdo for him, he had given in, and the match was made. Had there beenno more than this in the matter the Row would not have been muchstirred by it. The Row was so full of earls, marquises, and dukesthat Crocker's love would have awakened no more than a passingattention, but for a concomitant incident which was touching inits nature, and interesting in its development. Daniel Tribbledale,junior clerk at Pogson and Littlebird's, had fought a battle with hispassion for Clara Demijohn like a man; but, manly though the battlehad been, Love had prevailed over him. He had at last found itimpossible to give up the girl of his heart, and he had declared hisintention of "punching Crocker's head" should he ever find him in theneighbourhood of the Row. With the object of doing this he frequentedthe Row constantly from ten in the evening till two in the morning,and spent a great deal more money than he ought to have done at TheDuchess. He would occasionally knock at No. 10, and boldly ask tobe allowed to see Miss Clara. On one or two of these occasions hehad seen her, and tears had flown in great quantities. He had thrownhimself at her feet, and she had assured him that it was in vain. Hehad fallen back at Pogson and Littlebird's to L120 a year, and therewas no prospect of an increase. Moreover the betrothment with Crockerwas complete. Clara had begged him to leave the vicinity of Holloway.Nothing, he had sworn, should divorce him from Paradise Row. Shouldthat breakfast ever be given; should these hated nuptials ever takeplace; he would be heard of. It was in vain that Clara had threatenedto die on the threshold of the church if anything rash were done.He was determined, and Clara, no doubt, was interested in thepersistency of his affection. It was, however, specially worthy ofremark that Crocker and Tribbledale never did meet in Paradise Row.
Monday, 13th of July, was the day fixed for the marriage, andlodgings for the happy pair had been taken at Islington. It had beenhoped that room might have been made for them at No. 10; but theold lady, fearing the interference of a new inmate, had preferredthe horrors of solitude to the combined presence of her niece andher niece's husband. She had, however, given a clock and a smallharmonium to grace the furnished sitting-room;--so that things mightbe said to stand on a sound and pleasant footing. Gradually, however,it came to be thought both by the old and the young lady, thatCrocker was becoming too eager on that great question of the Duca.When he declared that no earthly consideration should induce him tocall his friend by any name short of that noble title which he wasentitled to use, he was asked a question or two as to his practice atthe office. For it had come round to Paradise Row that Crocker wasgiving offence at the office by his persistency. "When I speak of himI always call him the 'Duca,'" said Crocker, gallantly, "and when Imeet him I always address him as Duca. No doubt it may for a whilecreate a little coolness, but he will recognize at last the truth ofthe spirit which actuates me. He is 'the Duca.'"
"If you go on doing what they tell you not to do," said the oldwoman, "they'll dismiss you." Crocker had simply smiled ineffably.Not Aeolus himself would dismiss him for a loyal adherence to theconstitutional usages of European Courts.
Crocker was in truth making himself thoroughly disagreeable at thePost Office. Sir Boreas had had his own view as to Roden's title, andhad been anxious to assist Lord Persiflage in forcing the clerk toaccept his nobility. But when he had found that Roden was determined,he had given way. No order had been given on the subject. It was amatter which hardly admitted of an order. But it was understood thatas Mr. Roden wished to be Mr. Roden, he was to be Mr. Roden. It wasdeclared that good taste required that he should be addressed as hechose to be addressed. When, therefore, Crocker persisted it was feltthat Crocker was a bore. When Crocker declared to Roden personallythat his conscience would not allow him to encounter a man whom hebelieved to be a nobleman without calling him by his title, theoffice generally felt that Crocker was an ass. Aeolus was known tohave expressed himself as very angry, and was said to have declaredthat the man must be dismissed sooner or later. This had beenreported to Crocker. "Sir Boreas can't dismiss me for calling anobleman by his right name," Crocker had replied indignantly. Theclerks had acknowledged among themselves that this might be true,but had remarked that there were different ways of hanging a dog. IfAeolus was desirous of hanging Crocker, Crocker would certainly findhim the rope before long. There was a little bet made between Bobbinand Geraghty that the office would know Crocker no longer before theend of the year.
Alas, alas;--just before the time fixed for the poor fellow'smarriage, during the first week of July, there came to our Aeolus notonly an opportunity for dismissing poor Crocker, but an occasion onwhich, by the consent of all, it was admitted to be impossible thathe should not do so, and the knowledge of the sin committed cameupon Sir Boreas at a moment of great exasperation caused by anothersource. "Sir Boreas," Crocker had said, coming into the great man'sroom, "I hope you will do me the honour of being present at mywedding breakfast." The suggestion was an unpardonable impertinence."I am asking no one else in the Department except the Duca," saidCrocker. With what special flea in his ear Crocker was made to leavethe room instantly cannot be reported; but the reader may be quitesure that neither did Aeolus nor the Duca accept the invitation. Itwas on that very afternoon that Mr. Jerningham, with the assistanceof one of the messengers, discovered that Crocker had--actually tornup a bundle of official papers!
Among many official sins of which Crocker was often guilty was thatof "delaying papers." Letters had to be written, or more probablycopies made, and Crocker would postpone the required work from day today. Papers would get themselves locked up, and sometimes it wouldnot be practicable to trace them. There were those in the Departmentwho said that Crocker was not always trustworthy in his
statements,and there had come up lately a case in which the unhappy one wassupposed to have hidden a bundle of papers of which he denied havingever had the custody. Then arose a tumult of anger among those whowould be supposed to have had the papers if Crocker did not havethem, and a violent search was instituted. Then it was discoveredthat he had absolutely--destroyed the official documents! Theyreferred to the reiterated complaints of a fidgety old gentleman whofor years past had been accusing the Department of every imaginableiniquity. According to this irritable old gentleman, a diabolicalingenuity had been exercised in preventing him from receiving asingle letter through a long series of years.
This was a new crime. Wicked things were often done, but anything sowicked as this had never before been perpetrated in the Department.The minds of the senior clerks were terribly moved, and the young menwere agitated by a delicious awe. Crocker was felt to be abominable;but heroic also,--and original. It might be that a new opening forgreat things had been invented.
The fidgety old gentleman had never a leg to stand upon,--not astump; but now it was almost impossible that he should not be madeto know that all his letters of complaint had been made away with!Of course Crocker must be dismissed. He was at once suspended, andcalled upon for his written explanation. "And I am to be married nextweek!" he said weeping to Mr. Jerningham. Aeolus had refused to seehim, and Mr. Jerningham, when thus appealed to, only shook his head.What could a Mr. Jerningham say to a man who had torn up officialpapers on the eve of his marriage? Had he laid violent hands on hisbride, but preserved the papers, his condition, to Mr. Jerningham'sthinking, would have been more wholesome.
It was never known who first carried the tidings to Paradise Row.There were those who said that Tribbledale was acquainted with afriend of Bobbin, and that he made it all known to Clara in ananonymous letter. There were others who traced a friendship betweenthe potboy at The Duchess and a son of one of the messengers. It wasat any rate known at No. 10. Crocker was summoned to an interviewwith the old woman; and the match was then and there declared to bebroken off. "What are your intentions, sir, as to supporting thatyoung woman?" Mrs. Demijohn demanded with all the severity of whichshe was capable. Crocker was so broken-hearted that he had not a wordto say for himself. He did not dare to suggest that perhaps he mightnot be dismissed. He admitted the destruction of the papers. "I nevercared for him again when I saw him so knocked out of time by an oldwoman," said Clara afterwards.
"What am I to do about the lodgings?" asked Crocker weeping.
"Tear 'em up," said Mrs. Demijohn. "Tear 'em up. Only send back theclock and the harmonium."
Crocker in his despair looked about everywhere for assistance. Itmight be that Aeolus would be softer-hearted than Clara Demijohn.He wrote to Lord Persiflage, giving him a very full account of theaffair. The papers, he said, had in fact been actually torn byaccident. He was afraid of "the Duca," or he would have applied tohim. "The Duca," no doubt had been his most intimate friend,--so hestill declared,--but in such an emergency he did not know how toaddress "the Duca." But he bethought himself of Lord Hampstead, ofthat hunting acquaintance, with whom his intercourse had been sopleasant and so genial, and he made a journey down Hendon. LordHampstead at this time was living there all alone. Marion Fay hadbeen taken back to Pegwell Bay, and her lover was at the old householding intercourse almost with no one. His heart just now was veryheavy with him. He had begun to believe that Marion would in truthnever become his wife. He had begun to think that she would reallydie, and that he would never have had the sad satisfaction of callingher his own. All lightness and brightness had gone from him, allthe joy which he used to take in argument, all the eagerness of hischaracter,--unless the hungry craving of unsatisfied love could stillbe called an eagerness.
He was in this condition when Crocker was brought out to him in thegarden where he was walking. "Mr. Crocker," he said, standing stillin the pathway and looking into the man's face.
"Yes, my lord; it's me. I am Crocker. You remember me, my lord, downin Cumberland?"
"I remember you,--at Castle Hautboy."
"And out hunting, my lord,--when we had that pleasant ride home fromAirey Force."
"What can I do for you now?"
"I always do think, my lord, that there is nothing like sport tocement affection. I don't know how you feel about it, my lord."
"If there is anything to be said--perhaps you will say it."
"And there's another bond, my lord. We have both been looking for thepartners of our joys in Paradise Row."
"If you have anything to say, say it."
"And as for your friend, my lord, the,--the--. You know whom I mean.If I have given any offence it has only been because I've thoughtthat as the title was certainly theirs, a young lady who shall benameless ought to have the advantage of it. I've only done it becauseof my consideration for the family."
"What have you come here for, Mr. Crocker? I am not just now disposedto converse,--on, I may say, any subject. If there be anything--"
"Indeed, there is. Oh, my lord, they are going to dismiss me! For thesake of Paradise Row, my lord, pray, pray, interfere on my behalf."Then he told the whole story about the papers, merely explaining thatthey had been torn in accident. "Sir Boreas is angry with me becauseI have thought it right to call--you know whom--by his title, and nowI am to be dismissed just when I was about to take that beautiful andaccomplished young lady to the hymeneal altar. Only think if you andMiss Fay was to be divided in the same way!"
With much lengthened explanation, which was, however, altogetherineffectual, Lord Hampstead had to make his visitor understand thatthere was no ground on which he could even justify a request. "But aletter! You could write a letter. A letter from your lordship woulddo so much." Lord Hampstead shook his head. "If you were just to saythat you had known me intimately down in Cumberland! Of course I amnot taking upon myself to say it was so,--but to save a poor fellowon the eve of his marriage!"
"I will write a letter," said Lord Hampstead, thinking of it, turningover in his mind his own idea of what marriage would be to him. "Icannot say that we have been intimate friends, because it would notbe true."
"No;--no; no! Of course not that."
"But I will write a letter to Sir Boreas. I cannot conceive that itshould have any effect. It ought to have none."
"It will, my lord."
"I will write, and will say that your father is connected with myuncle, and that your condition in regard to your marriage may perhapsbe accepted as a ground for clemency. Good day to you." Not veryquickly, but with profuse thanks and the shedding of some tears,poor Crocker took his leave. He had not been long gone before thefollowing letter was written;--
SIR,
Though I have not the honour of any acquaintance with you, I take the liberty of writing to you as to the condition of one of the clerks in your office. I am perfectly aware that should I receive a reprimand from your hands, I shall have deserved it by my unjustifiable interference.
Mr. Crocker represents to me that he is to be dismissed because of some act of which you as his superior officer highly disapprove. He asks me to appeal to you on his behalf because we have been acquainted with each other. His father is agent to my uncle Lord Persiflage, and we have met at my uncle's house. I do not dare to put this forward as a plea for mercy. But I understand that Mr. Crocker is about to be married almost immediately, and, perhaps, you will feel with me that a period in a man's life which should beyond all others be one of satisfaction, of joy, and of perfect contentment, may be regarded with a feeling of mercy which would be prejudicial if used more generally.
Your faithful servant,
HAMPSTEAD.
When he wrote those words as to the period of joy and satisfactionhis own heart was sore, sore, sore almost to breaking. There couldnever be such joy, never be such satisfaction for him.