The Great Hoggarty Diamond | Page 8

have you in
quod, or my name's not Bob Swinney!"
"Make out a cheque, Mr. Roundhand, for the three months' salary of
this perverted young man."
"Twenty-one pun' five, Roundhand, and nothing for the stamp!" cried
out that audacious Swinney. "There it is, sir, RE-ceipted. You needn't
cross it to my banker's. And if any of you gents like a glass of punch
this evening at eight o'clock, Bob Swinney's your man, and nothing to
pay. If Mr. Brough WOULD do me the honour to come in and take a
whack? Come, don't say no, if you'd rather not!"
We couldn't stand this impudence, and all burst out laughing like mad.
"Leave the room!" yelled Mr. Brough, whose face had turned quite blue;
and so Bob took his white hat off the peg, and strolled away with his
"tile," as he called it, very much on one side. When he was gone, Mr.
Brough gave us another lecture, by which we all determined to profit;
and going up to Roundhand's desk put his arm round his neck, and
looked over the ledger.
"What money has been paid in to-day, Roundhand?" he said, in a very
kind way.
"The widow, sir, came with her money; nine hundred and four ten and
six--say 904L. 10S. 6D. Captain Sparr, sir, paid his shares up; grumbles,
though, and says he's no more: fifty shares, two instalments--three
fifties, sir."
"He's always grumbling!"

"He says he has not a shilling to bless himself with until our dividend
day."
"Any more?"
Mr. Roundhand went through the book, and made it up nineteen
hundred pounds in all. We were doing a famous business now; though
when I came into the office, we used to sit, and laugh, and joke, and
read the newspapers all day; bustling into our seats whenever a stray
customer came. Brough never cared about our laughing and singing
THEN, and was hand and glove with Bob Swinney; but that was in
early times, before we were well in harness.
"Nineteen hundred pounds, and a thousand pounds in shares. Bravo,
Roundhand--bravo, gentlemen! Remember, every share you bring in
brings you five per cent. down on the nail! Look to your friends-- stick
to your desks--be regular--I hope none of you forget church. Who takes
Mr. Swinney's place?"
"Mr. Samuel Titmarsh, sir."
"Mr. Titmarsh, I congratulate you. Give me your hand, sir: you are now
twelfth clerk of this Association, and your salary is consequently
increased five pounds a year. How is your worthy mother, sir--your
dear and excellent parent? In good health I trust? And long--long, I
fervently pray, may this office continue to pay her annuity! Remember,
if she has more money to lay out, there is higher interest than the last
for her, for she is a year older; and five per cent. for you, my boy! Why
not you as well as another? Young men will be young men, and a
ten-pound note does no harm. Does it, Mr. Abednego?"
"Oh, no!" says Abednego, who was third clerk, and who was the chap
that informed against Swinney; and he began to laugh, as indeed we all
did whenever Mr. Brough made anything like a joke: not that they
WERE jokes; only we used to know it by his face.
"Oh, by-the-bye, Roundhand," says he, "a word with you on business.
Mrs. Brough wants to know why the deuce you never come down to

Fulham."
"Law, that's very polite!" said Mr. Roundhand, quite pleased.
"Name your day, my boy! Say Saturday, and bring your night-cap with
you."
"You're very polite, I'm sure. I should be delighted beyond anything,
but--"
"But--no buts, my boy! Hark ye! the Chancellor of the Exchequer does
me the honour to dine with us, and I want you to see him; for the truth
is, I have bragged about you to his Lordship as the best actuary in the
three kingdoms."
Roundhand could not refuse such an invitation as THAT, though he
had told us how Mrs. R. and he were going to pass Saturday and
Sunday at Putney; and we who knew what a life the poor fellow led,
were sure that the head clerk would be prettily scolded by his lady
when she heard what was going on. She disliked Mrs. Brough very
much, that was the fact; because Mrs. B. kept a carriage, and said she
didn't know where Pentonville was, and couldn't call on Mrs.
Roundhand. Though, to be sure, her coachman might have found out
the way.
"And oh, Roundhand!" continued our governor, "draw a cheque for
seven hundred, will you! Come, don't stare, man; I'm not going to run
away! That's right,--seven hundred--and ninety, say, while you're about
it! Our board meets on Saturday, and never fear I'll account for it to
them before I