Tales and Fantasies | Page 8

was so different in effect.
'This is a time when I do not like to be disturbed,' he said.
'I know that,' returned John; 'but I have - I want - I've made a dreadful
mess of it,' he broke out, and turned to the window.
Mr. Nicholson sat silent for an appreciable time, while his unhappy son
surveyed the poles in the back green, and a certain yellow cat that was
perched upon the wall. Despair sat upon John as he gazed; and he raged
to think of the dreadful series of his misdeeds, and the essential
innocence that lay behind them.
'Well,' said the father, with an obvious effort, but in very quiet tones,

'what is it?'
'Maclean gave me four hundred pounds to put in the bank, sir,' began
John; 'and I'm sorry to say that I've been robbed of it!'
'Robbed of it?' cried Mr. Nicholson, with a strong rising inflection.
'Robbed? Be careful what you say, John!'
'I can't say anything else, sir; I was just robbed of it,' said John, in
desperation, sullenly.
'And where and when did this extraordinary event take place?' inquired
the father.
'On the Calton Hill about twelve last night.'
'The Calton Hill?' repeated Mr. Nicholson. 'And what were you doing
there at such a time of the night?'
'Nothing, sir,' says John.
Mr. Nicholson drew in his breath.
'And how came the money in your hands at twelve last night?' he asked,
sharply.
'I neglected that piece of business,' said John, anticipating comment;
and then in his own dialect: 'I clean forgot all about it.'
'Well,' said his father, 'it's a most extraordinary story. Have you
communicated with the police?'
'I have,' answered poor John, the blood leaping to his face. 'They think
they know the men that did it. I dare say the money will be recovered,
if that was all,' said he, with a desperate indifference, which his father
set down to levity; but which sprung from the consciousness of worse
behind.
'Your mother's watch, too?' asked Mr. Nicholson.
'Oh, the watch is all right!' cried John. 'At least, I mean I was coming to
the watch - the fact is, I am ashamed to say, I - I had pawned the watch
before. Here is the ticket; they didn't find that; the watch can be
redeemed; they don't sell pledges.' The lad panted out these phrases,
one after another, like minute guns; but at the last word, which rang in
that stately chamber like an oath, his heart failed him utterly; and the
dreaded silence settled on father and son.
It was broken by Mr. Nicholson picking up the pawn-ticket: 'John
Froggs, 85 Pleasance,' he read; and then turning upon John, with a brief
flash of passion and disgust, 'Who is John Froggs?' he cried.
'Nobody,' said John. 'It was just a name.'

'An ALIAS,' his father commented.
'Oh! I think scarcely quite that,' said the culprit; 'it's a form, they all do
it, the man seemed to understand, we had a great deal of fun over the
name - '
He paused at that, for he saw his father wince at the picture like a man
physically struck; and again there was silence.
'I do not think,' said Mr. Nicholson, at last, 'that I am an ungenerous
father. I have never grudged you money within reason, for any
avowable purpose; you had just to come to me and speak. And now I
find that you have forgotten all decency and all natural feeling, and
actually pawned - pawned - your mother's watch. You must have had
some temptation; I will do you the justice to suppose it was a strong
one. What did you want with this money?'
'I would rather not tell you, sir,' said John. 'It will only make you
angry.'
'I will not be fenced with,' cried his father. 'There must be an end of
disingenuous answers. What did you want with this money?'
'To lend it to Houston, sir,' says John.
'I thought I had forbidden you to speak to that young man?' asked the
father.
'Yes, sir,' said John; 'but I only met him.'
'Where?' came the deadly question.
And 'In a billiard-room' was the damning answer. Thus, had John's
single departure from the truth brought instant punishment. For no
other purpose but to see Alan would he have entered a billiard-room;
but he had desired to palliate the fact of his disobedience, and now it
appeared that he frequented these disreputable haunts upon his own
account.
Once more Mr. Nicholson digested the vile tidings in silence, and when
John stole a glance at his father's countenance, he was abashed to see
the marks of suffering.
'Well,' said the old gentleman, at last, 'I cannot pretend not to be simply
bowed down.