The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 10

  CHAPTER IX

  IN WHICH MR. NICHOLSON CONCEDES THE PRINCIPLE OF AN ALLOWANCE

  In spite of the horrors of the day and the tea-drinking of the night,John slept the sleep of infancy. He was wakened by the maid, as it mighthave been ten years ago, tapping at the door. The winter sunrise waspainting the east; and as the window was to the back of the house, itshone into the room with many strange colours of refracted light.Without, the houses were all cleanly roofed with snow; the garden wallswere coped with it a foot in height; the greens lay glittering. Yetstrange as snow had grown to John during his years upon the Bay of SanFrancisco, it was what he saw within that most affected him. For it wasto his own room that Alexander had been promoted; there was the oldpaper with the device of flowers, in which a cunning fancy might yetdetect the face of Skinny Jim, of the Academy, John's former dominie;there was the old chest of drawers; there were the chairs--one, two,three--three as before. Only the carpet was new, and the litter ofAlexander's clothes and books and drawing materials, and apencil-drawing on the wall, which (in John's eyes) appeared a marvel ofproficiency.

  He was thus lying, and looking, and dreaming, hanging, as it were,between two epochs of his life, when Alexander came to the door, andmade his presence known in a loud whisper. John let him in, and jumpedback into the warm bed.

  "Well, John," said Alexander, "the cablegram is sent in your name, andtwenty words of answer paid. I have been to the cab office and paidyour cab, even saw the old gentleman himself, and properly apologised.He was mighty placable, and indicated his belief you had been drinking.Then I knocked up old MacEwen out of bed, and explained affairs to himas he sat and shivered in a dressing-gown. And before that I had been tothe High Street, where they have heard nothing of your dead body, sothat I incline to the idea that you dreamed it."

  "Catch me!" said John.

  "Well, the police never do know anything," assented Alexander; "and atany rate, they have despatched a man to inquire and to recover yourtrousers and your money, so that really your bill is now fairly clean;and I see but one lion in your path--the governor."

  "I'll be turned out again, you'll see," said John dismally.

  "I don't imagine so," returned the other; "not if you do what Flora andI have arranged; and your business now is to dress, and lose no timeabout it. Is your watch right? Well, you have a quarter of an hour. Byfive minutes before the half-hour you must be at table, in your oldseat, under Uncle Duthie's picture. Flora will be there to keep youcountenance; and we shall see what we shall see."

  "Wouldn't it be wiser for me to stay in bed?" said John.

  "If you mean to manage your own concerns, you can do precisely what youlike," replied Alexander; "but if you are not in your place five minutesbefore the half-hour I wash my hands of you, for one."

  And thereupon he departed. He had spoken warmly, but the truth is, hisheart was somewhat troubled. And as he hung over the banisters, watchingfor his father to appear, he had hard ado to keep himself braced for theencounter that must follow.

  "If he takes it well, I shall be lucky," he reflected. "If he takes itill, why, it'll be a herring across John's tracks, and perhaps all forthe best. He's a confounded muff, this brother of mine, but he seems adecent soul."

  At that stage a door opened below with a certain emphasis, and Mr.Nicholson was seen solemnly to descend the stairs, and pass into his ownapartment. Alexander followed, quaking inwardly, but with a steady face.He knocked, was bidden to enter, and found his father standing in frontof the forced drawer, to which he pointed as he spoke.

  "This is a most extraordinary thing," said he; "I have been robbed!"

  "I was afraid you would notice it," observed his son; "it made such abeastly hash of the table."

  "You were afraid I would notice it?" repeated Mr. Nicholson. "And, pray,what may that mean?"

  "That I was the thief, sir," returned Alexander. "I took all the moneyin case the servants should get hold of it; and here is the change, anda note of my expenditure. You were gone to bed, you see, and I did notfeel at liberty to knock you up; but I think when you have heard thecircumstances you will do me justice. The fact is, I have reason tobelieve there has been some dreadful error about my brother John; thesooner it could be cleared up the better for all parties; it was a pieceof business, sir--and so I took it, and decided, on my ownresponsibility, to send a telegram to San Francisco. Thanks to myquickness, we may hear to-night. There appears to be no doubt, sir, thatJohn has been abominably used."

  "When did this take place?" asked the father.

  "Last night, sir, after you were asleep," was the reply.

  "It's most extraordinary," said Mr. Nicholson. "Do you mean to say youhave been out all night?"

  "All night, as you say, sir. I have been to the telegraph and the policeoffice, and Mr. MacEwen's. O, I had my hands full," said Alexander.

  "Very irregular," said the father. "You think of no one but yourself."

  "I do not see that I have much to gain in bringing back my elderbrother," returned Alexander shrewdly.

  The answer pleased the old man; he smiled. "Well, well, I will go intothis after breakfast," said he.

  "I'm sorry about the table," said the son.

  "The table is a small matter; I think nothing of that," said the father.

  "It's another example," continued the son, "of the awkwardness of a manhaving no money of his own. If I had a proper allowance, like otherfellows of my age, this would have been quite unnecessary."

  "A proper allowance!" repeated his father, in tones of blightingsarcasm, for the expression was not new to him. "I have never grudgedyou money for any proper purpose."

  "No doubt, no doubt," said Alexander, "but then you see you aren'talways on the spot to have the thing explained to you. Last night, forinstance--"

  "You could have wakened me last night," interrupted his father.

  "Was it not some similar affair that first got John into a mess?" askedthe son, skilfully evading the point.

  But the father was not less adroit. "And pray, sir, how did you come andgo out of the house?" he asked.

  "I forgot to lock the door, it seems," replied Alexander.

  "I have had cause to complain of that too often," said Mr. Nicholson."But still I do not understand. Did you keep the servants up?"

  "I propose to go into all that at length after breakfast," returnedAlexander. "There is the half-hour going; we must not keep MissMackenzie waiting."

  And, greatly daring, he opened the door.

  Even Alexander, who, it must have been perceived, was on terms ofcomparative freedom with his parent--even Alexander had never beforedared to cut short an interview in this high-handed fashion. But thetruth is, the very mass of his son's delinquencies daunted the oldgentleman. He was like the man with the cart of apples--this was beyondhim! That Alexander should have spoiled his table, taken his money,stayed out all night, and then coolly acknowledged all, was somethingundreamed of in the Nicholsonian philosophy, and transcended comment.The return of the change, which the old gentleman still carried in hishand, had been a feature of imposing impudence; it had dealt him astaggering blow. Then there was the reference to John's originalflight--a subject which he always kept resolutely curtained in his ownmind; for he was a man who loved to have made no mistakes, and, when hefeared he might have made one, kept the papers sealed. In view of allthese surprises and reminders, and of his son's composed and masterfuldemeanour, there began to creep on Mr. Nicholson a sickly misgiving. Heseemed beyond his depth; if he did or said anything, he might come toregret it. The young man, besides, as he had pointed out himself, wasplaying a generous part. And if wrong had been done--and done to one whowas after, and in spite of all, a Nicholson--it should certainly berighted.

  All things considered, monstrous as it was to be cut short in hisinquiries, the old gentleman submitted, pocketed the change, andfollowed his son into the dining-room. During these few steps he oncemore mentally revolted, and once more, and this time finally, laid downh
is arms: a still, small voice in his bosom having informed himauthentically of a piece of news: that he was afraid of Alexander. Thestrange thing was that he was pleased to be afraid of him. He was proudof his son; he might be proud of him; the boy had character and grit,and knew what he was doing.

  These were his reflections as he turned the corner of the dining-roomdoor. Miss Mackenzie was in the place of honour, conjuring with a teapotand a cosy; and, behold! there was another person present, a large,portly, whiskered man of a very comfortable and respectable air, who nowrose from his seat and came forward, holding out his hand.

  "Good-morning, father," said he.

  Of the contention of feeling that ran high in Mr. Nicholson's starchedbosom, no outward sign was visible; nor did he delay long to make achoice of conduct. Yet in that interval he had reviewed a great field ofpossibilities both past and future: whether it was possible he had notbeen perfectly wise in his treatment of John; whether it was possiblethat John was innocent; whether, if he turned John out a second time, ashis outraged authority suggested, it was possible to avoid a scandal;and whether, if he went to that extremity, it was possible thatAlexander might rebel.

  "Hum!" said Mr. Nicholson, and put his hand, limp and dead, into John's.

  And then, in an embarrassed silence, all took their places; and even thepaper--from which it was the old gentleman's habit to suck mortificationdaily, as he marked the decline of our institutions--even the paper layfurled by his side.

  But presently Flora came to the rescue. She slid into the silence with atechnicality, asking if John still took his old inordinate amount ofsugar. Thence it was but a step to the burning question of the day; andin tones a little shaken, she commented on the interval since she hadlast made tea for the prodigal, and congratulated him on his return. Andthen addressing Mr. Nicholson, she congratulated him also in a mannerthat defied his ill-humour; and from that launched into the tale ofJohn's misadventures, not without some suitable suppressions.

  Gradually Alexander joined; between them, whether he would or no, theyforced a word or two from John; and these fell so tremulously, and spokeso eloquently of a mind oppressed with dread, that Mr. Nicholsonrelented. At length even he contributed a question: and before the mealwas at an end all four were talking even freely.

  Prayers followed, with the servants gaping at this newcomer whom no onehad admitted; and after prayers there came that moment on the clockwhich was the signal for Mr. Nicholson's departure.

  "John," said he, "of course you will stay here. Be very careful not toexcite Maria, if Miss Mackenzie thinks it desirable that you should seeher.--Alexander, I wish to speak with you alone." And then, when theywere both in the back-room: "You need not come to the office to-day,"said he; "you can stay and amuse your brother, and I think it would berespectful to call on Uncle Greig. And, by-the-by" (this spoken with acertain--dare we say?--bashfulness), "I agree to concede the principleof an allowance; and I will consult Dr. Durie, who is quite a man of theworld and has sons of his own, as to the amount. And, my fine fellow,you may consider yourself in luck!" he added, with a smile.

  "Thank you," said Alexander.

  Before noon a detective had restored to John his money, and broughtnews, sad enough in truth, but perhaps the least sad possible. AlanHouston had been found in his own house in Regent Terrace, under care ofthe terrified butler. He was quite mad, and instead of going to prison,had been taken to Morningside Asylum. The murdered man, it appeared, wasan evicted tenant who had for nearly a year pursued his late landlordwith threats and insults; and beyond this, the cause and details of thetragedy were lost.

  When Mr. Nicholson returned for dinner they were able to put a despatchinto his hands:--"John V. Nicholson, Randolph Crescent,Edinburgh.--Kirkman has disappeared; police looking for him. Allunderstood. Keep mind quite easy.--AUSTIN." Having had this explained tohim, the old gentleman took down the cellar key and departed for twobottles of the 1820 port. Uncle Greig dined there that day, and cousinRobina, and, by an odd chance, Mr. MacEwen; and the presence of thesestrangers relieved what might have been otherwise a somewhat strainedrelation. Ere they departed the family was welded once more into a fairsemblance of unity.

  In the end of April John led Flora--or, let us say, as more descriptive,Flora led John--to the altar, if altar that may be called which wasindeed the drawing-room mantelpiece in Mr. Nicholson's house, theReverend Dr. Durie posted on the hearthrug in the guise of Hymen'spriest.

  The last I saw of them, on a recent visit to the north, was at adinner-party in the house of my old friend Gellatly Macbride; and afterwe had, in classic phrase, "rejoined the ladies," I had an opportunityto overhear Flora conversing with another married woman on the muchcanvassed matter of a husband's tobacco.

  "O yes!" said she; "I only allow Mr. Nicholson four cigars a day. Threehe smokes at fixed times--after a meal, you know, my dear; and thefourth he can take when he likes with any friend."

  "Bravo!" thought I to myself; "this is the wife for my friend John!"

  KIDNAPPED

  BEING MEMOIRS OF THE ADVENTURES OF DAVID BALFOUR

  IN THE YEAR 1751 HOW HE WAS KIDNAPPED AND CAST AWAY: HIS SUFFERINGS IN A DESERT ISLE: HIS JOURNEY IN THE WILD HIGHLANDS: HIS ACQUAINTANCE WITH ALAN BRECK STEWART AND OTHER NOTORIOUS HIGHLAND JACOBITES: WITH ALL THAT HE SUFFERED AT THE HANDS OF HIS UNCLE EBENEZER BALFOUR OF SHAWS, FALSELY SO-CALLED: WRITTEN BY HIMSELF, AND NOW SET FORTH BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON