Frank Oldfield Part 23

Several gentlemen now came running up. They thanked Frank for his timely help, and asked him if he would not come and join their party.

There was a heartiness and cheeriness of manner about them which made it impossible for him to say, "No," so he a.s.sented, and followed them to an open s.p.a.ce a short way off the road, round the next turn, where a very merry company were gathered among the trees, with the scarlet- embroidered sward for their table.

"Pray, take a seat among us," said one of the gentlemen who had invited him. "I'll secure your horse--is he tolerably quiet?"

"Perfectly so; but you'd better take his saddle off, lest he should be inclined to indulge in a roll."

"I am sure, sir, I owe you many thanks," said the young lady whose horse he had caught; "for, if you had not stopped my mare, she would have been half-way to Adelaide by this time, and one of us must have walked."

Frank made a suitable reply, and was at once quite at ease with his new companions. There were four gentlemen and as many ladies, the latter in the prime of life, and full of spirits, which the stranger's presence did not check. No spot could be more lovely than the one chosen for their open-air meal. Before them was the deep, sloping chasm, revealing the distant town and ocean, and clothed on either side with unbroken forests. All around was the brilliant carpeting of flowers; overhead, the intensely blue sky, latticed here and there with the interlacing boughs of trees. The dinner or luncheon was spread out on a white cloth, and consisted of the usual abundance of fowls, pies, and tarts, proper to such occasions, and flanked by what was evidently considered no secondary part of the refreshments--a compact regiment of pale ale, porter, wine, and spirit-bottles. Under ordinary circ.u.mstances such a sight would have been very inviting; but it was doubly so to Frank, after his long and hot ride. All were disposed to treat him, as the stranger, with pressing hospitality; but his own free and gentlemanly bearing, and the openness with which he answered the questions put to him, as well as the hearty geniality of his conversation, made all his new acquaintances delighted with him, and eager to supply his wants as their guest. It is not, therefore, much to be wondered at that any half-formed resolutions as to total abstinence which he might have vaguely entertained soon melted away before the cordial entreaties of the gentlemen that he would not spare the ale, wine, or spirits.

"You'll have found riding in such a sun thirsty work, I'm sure, sir,"

said a stout, jolly-looking man, who was evidently one of the leaders of the party. Frank made just a feeble answer about not drinking, and a pretence of holding back his gla.s.s, and then allowed himself to be helped first to one tumbler, then another, and then another, of foaming Ba.s.s. He was soon past all qualms, regrets, or misgivings.

"Capital stuff this," he said; "do you know where I can get some?"

"Most proud to serve you, my dear sir," said the stout gentleman. "I have a large stock on hand; anything in the way of ale, porter, wine, or spirits, I flatter myself no one in Adelaide is better able to supply; perhaps you'll kindly favour me with an order!"

"Certainly," said Frank, and gave his address, and an order for ale, wine, and spirits to be sent over to his cottage the following day. And now, from his long previous abstinence, what he had already drunk had begun to tell upon him. He felt it, and rose to go, but his entertainers would not hear of his leaving them; for, under the excitement of the strong drink, he had been pouring forth anecdotes, and making himself in other ways so entertaining and agreeable, that his new friends were most anxious to detain him. So wine and brandy were added to his previous potations; and when at last, with a.s.sistance, he mounted his horse, it was with the greatest difficulty he could retain his seat in the saddle. And thus the whole party, singing, shouting, laughing, descended along the winding track, making G.o.d's beautiful creation hideous by the jarring of their brutal mirth; for surely that mirth is brutal which springs, not from a heart filled with innocent rejoicing, but from lips that sputter out the frenzies of a brain on fire with the stimulants of alcohol. How Frank Oldfield got home he could not tell.

His horse knew his road, and followed it; for, dumb brute as he was, his senses were not clouded by the unnatural stimulant which had stolen away the intellects of his _rational_ master.

Darkness had settled down when horse and rider reached the slip-rail at the entrance of the field before Frank's house. Jacob was there, for he had heard his master's voice some ten minutes earlier singing s.n.a.t.c.hes of songs in a wild exaggerated manner. Poor Jacob, he could hardly believe his ears, as he listened to "Rule Britannia" shouted out by those lips which, he had imagined, never allowed strong drink to pa.s.s them.

"Is that you, Jacob, my boy?" cried Frank thickly.

"Yes, sir," said Jacob sorrowfully.

"Let down--shlip-rail--th-there's--good lad," added his master.

"It's down," replied the other shortly.

"Tchick--tchick, Roderick," cried Frank, almost tumbling over his horse's head. At last they reached the house door. Mrs Watson came out, candle in hand.

"How are you, Mrs Watson?" hiccupped her master. "Lend us a light--all right; that's poetry, and no mistake--ha, ha, ha! capital, Jacob, my boy, ain't it?" and he tumbled over one side of his horse, only saving himself from falling to the ground by catching hold of one of the posts of the verandah. But we need not follow him further. He slept the heavy drunkard's sleep that night, and rose the next morning feverish, sick, thirsty, degraded, humbled, miserable. Poor Jacob's face would have been a picture, could it have been taken as he looked upon his master staggering into the house by the light of Mrs Watson's candle--a very picture it would have been of mingled astonishment, perplexity, distress, disgust.

"Well," he said to himself moodily, "I thought the old lad had his hands full in the old country, but it's like he's not content with that; I'd as soon have thought of the Queen of England taking pick and Davy-lamp and going down to work in the pit, as of my young mayster coming home beastly drunk. My word, it's awful; 'tis for sure."

When master and servant met next day each avoided the other's eye.

Frank spoke moodily, and Jacob answered surlily. But it was not in Frank's nature to continue long in constraint of manner with any one, so, calling to his servant in a cheery voice,--

"Here, Jacob," he cried, "I want you in the garden." Jacob ran to him briskly, for there was a charm in his young master's manner which he could not resist.

"Jacob," said Frank Oldfield, "you saw me last night as I trust you will never see me again, overcome with drink."

"Ay, mayster," said the other, "I see'd you sure enough, and I'd sooner have see'd a yard full of lions and tigers nor such a sight as that."

"Well, Jacob, it was the first, and I trust the last time too; it was wrong, very wrong. I'm thoroughly ashamed that you should have seen me in such a plight. I was betrayed into it. I ought to have been more on my guard; you mustn't think any more of it; I'll take care it doesn't happen again."

"Ah, mayster," said the other, "I shall be rare and glad if it doesn't.

I hope you'll keep gradely teetottal, for the drink's a cheating and lying thing."

"I hope so too," said Frank, and then the conversation dropped.

But now he remembered that the wine, beer, and spirits which he had ordered were to come that very evening. What was he to do? Conscience said very plainly, "Stand forth like a man, be at once a total abstainer, it is your only safe course; tell Jacob all about it, and send a counter-order by him at once, with a note of apology; call to- morrow on the merchant, and tell him in a straightforward way that you feel it your duty to become an abstainer forthwith; thus you will at once show your colours, and will save yourself from much annoyance, and, what is better still, from sin; and sign the pledge, that you may have a barrier between yourself and the drink which all the world can understand." Thus conscience spoke softly but clearly, as with the vibrations of a silver bell; but l.u.s.t, with its hot hand, stilled those vibrations with a touch. Frank would not counter-order the drink, for he loved it; he persuaded himself that he should be strictly moderate, while he was secretly determined to keep within his reach the means of excess. And yet he was very anxious that Jacob should not be aware of the coming of any drink into the house. So he watched hour after hour as evening drew on, feeling more like a felon bent on some deed of darkness than an honest, straightforward Englishman. At last he saw the merchant's spring-cart in the distance. Making some excuse for sending Jacob to a house about a quarter of a mile off, and setting Mrs Watson down in the kitchen to an interesting article in the newspaper, he met the cart at the gate, and a.s.sisted the driver to carry the hampers of strong drinkables, with all possible haste, into his bed-room. Then, quickly dismissing the man, he locked himself into his chamber, and carefully deposited the hampers in a large cupboard near the head of his bed. When he had completed all this he began to breathe freely again.

And thus he commenced the downward course of unfaltering, deliberate deceit. Hitherto he had deceived himself chiefly, keeping the truth in the background of his consciousness; now he was carefully planning to deceive others. And oh, what a mean, paltry deceit it was--so low does rational, immortal man stoop when under the iron grasp of a master sin!

And so, with carefully-locked door, and stealthy step, and cautious handling of gla.s.s and bottle, lest any one should hear, Frank Oldfield drank daily of the poison that was ruining his body and paralysing his moral nature; for whatever it might or might not be to others, it was a.s.suredly poison to him. Jacob Poole mused and wondered, and could not make him out--sometimes he saw him deeply depressed, at another time in a state of overboiling spirits and extravagant gaiety. Poor Jacob's heart misgave him as to the cause, and yet he fully believed that there were no intoxicating liquors in the house. But things could not remain in this position; there is no sin which runs with such acc.u.mulating speed as the drunkard's. Frank would now be seldom riding to "The Rocks," and often to the town; he would stay away from home night after night, and no one knew what had become of him. Poor Jacob began to get very weary, and to dread more and more that he should find his young master becoming a confirmed slave to the drink. Frank's fine temper, too, was not what it once was, and Jacob had to wince under many a hasty word.

At last his master began to find that his expenses were getting greatly in advance of his income. He called one day at the bank, drew a cheque, and presented it over the counter. The cas.h.i.+er took it to the manager's desk: there was a brief consultation, and then a request that Mr Oldfield would step into the manager's private room.

"I am exceedingly sorry, Mr Oldfield," said the manager, "that we feel ourselves in a difficulty as to the cheque you have just drawn; the fact is that you have already overdrawn your account fifty pounds, and we hardly feel justified in cas.h.i.+ng any more of your cheques till we receive further remittances to your credit."

"Very well, sir," said Frank haughtily, and rising; "I shall transfer my account to some other bank, which will deal more liberally and courteously with me;" saying which, he hurried into the street in a state of fierce excitement. When, however, he had had time to cool down a little, he began to feel the awkwardness of his position. He was quite sure that his father would not increase his allowance, and an overdrawn account was not a thing so easy to transfer. Besides which, he began to be aware that his present habits were getting talked about in the city. But money he must have. To whom could he apply? There was but one person to whom he could bring himself to speak on the subject, and that was Hubert. He had seen very little of him, however, of late, for the company and pursuits he had taken to were not such as would find any countenance from young Oliphant. Something, however, must be done. So he called at the office in King William Street, and had a private interview with his friend.

"Money," said Hubert, when he had heard of Frank's necessities, "is not a thing I have much at command at present."

"But you can procure me the loan of a hundred pounds, I daresay?" asked the other; "my next half-yearly payment will be made in two months, and then I shall be able to repay the money, with the interest."

"You want a hundred pounds now, as I understand," said his friend, "and you have already overdrawn your account fifty pounds; when your money is paid in it will just cover this hundred and fifty pounds, without any interest. How do you mean to manage for the interest and your next half-year's expenses?"

"Oh, I don't know," replied Frank testily; "what's the use of bothering a fellow with calculations like that? Of course the tradespeople must trust me, and it'll be all right by the time another half-year's payment comes in."

"Well, if you've paid your tradesmen up to now," rejoined Hubert, "of course they may be willing to wait. Still, excuse my saying, dear Frank, that it's not a very healthy thing this forestalling, and I don't see how you're to pay the interest when you get your next payment."

"What a fuss about the interest!" cried the other. "The fellow that lends it must clap on so much more for waiting a little longer, that's all. And as for the tradesmen, they must be content to be paid by degrees. They'll take precious good care not to be losers in the end, I'll warrant them."

"Dear Frank," said Hubert kindly, but very gravely, and laying his hand affectionately on the other's shoulder, "you must bear with me if I speak a little plainly to you--you must bear with me, indeed you must.

You know that you came out here hoping to redeem the past, and to return home again a new character. You know what lies at the end of such a hope fulfilled. Are you really trying to live the life you purposed to live? There are very ugly rumours abroad. You seem to have nearly forsaken old friends; and the new ones, if report says true, are such as will only lead you to ruin. Oh, dear Frank, if you would only see things in the right light--if you would only see your own weakness, and seek strength in prayer in your Saviour's name--oh, surely you would break off at once from your present ways and companions, and there might be hope--oh yes, hope even yet."

Frank did not speak for some time. At last he said, in a stern, husky voice,--

"Can you--or can you not--borrow the money for me?"

"If I could feel convinced," was the reply, "that you would at once break off from your present a.s.sociates, and that you would seriously set about retrenching, I would undertake to procure for you the hundred pounds you require--nay, I would make myself responsible for it."

Frank sat down, and buried his face in his hands.

"Oh, help me, Hubert," he cried, "and I will promise all you wish. I will pay off old debts as far as possible, and will incur no new ones.

I will keep myself out of harm's way; and will take to old friends, if they will receive me again. Can I say more?"

"Will you not become a genuine pledged abstainer? And will you not pray for grace to keep your good resolution?"

"Well, as far as the total abstinence is concerned, I will think about it."

"And will you not pray for strength?"

"Oh, of course--of course."

And Frank went off with a light heart, the present pressure being removed. Hubert procured the money for him. And now for a time there was a decided outward improvement. Frank was startled to find how rapidly he was being brought, by his expensive habits, to the brink of ruin. He tore himself, therefore, from his gay a.s.sociates, and was often a visitor at "The Rocks." But he did not give up the drink. He contrived, by dexterous management, to keep up the stock in his bed- room, without the knowledge of either Jacob or Mrs Watson. But one day he sent Jacob for a powder-flask which he had left on his dressing- table, having forgotten, through inadvertence, to lock his cupboard door or remove a spirit-bottle from his table. Jacob remained staring at the bottle, and then at the open hamper in the closet, as if fascinated by the gaze of some deadly serpent. He stood there utterly forgetting what he was sent for, till he heard Frank's voice impatiently calling him.

Then he rushed out empty-handed and bewildered till he reached his master's presence.