For Fortune and Glory Part 11

Mrs Strachan and two of her girls were round another wicker-work table a little farther off, indulging in afternoon tea, their books and needlework put down for the minute. Presently the sound of a horse's hoofs was heard upon the gravel beyond the garden hedge, and Mary, the eldest girl, jumped from her low basket chair, exclaiming--

"Here he comes!"

Everybody looked up, expectant; even Captain Strachan laid down his work--and those who have ever endeavoured to manufacture an artificial fly know what _that_ means--as our old friend, Tom Strachan, walked up the path towards the group. As he did not look very pleased, his mother concluded the worst, and said--

"Never mind, Tom, if you _have_ failed; very few succeed the first time, and you have two more chances."

For Tom had been in for the compet.i.tive examination, and had now ridden over to Barnstaple to forestall the country postman and learn his fate.

"But I have not failed, mother," said Tom; "indeed, I am pretty high up in the list--better than I expected."

"Well done, my boy!" cried Captain Strachan. "Not that I had any fear for you, because I saw you reading steadily at home when there was no pressure put upon you. And those were the fellows who always pa.s.sed in my days. But I am glad it is safe, all the same, and we will have a bottle of that old Ferrier-Jouet for dinner on the strength of it. But I say, Tom, you look as grave as a marine at a Court-Martial. No wonder your mother thought you had scored a blank."

"Well, the fact is, my friend Kavanagh has not had my luck. It is awfully hard lines, for he has only missed it by twenty marks. It is a bad job."

"Aye, it is a pity," said Captain Strachan. Reginald Kavanagh was a general favourite in the family, with whom he had twice been to stay in the holidays. "A pity for him and a pity for the service. He was cut out for a soldier if ever a lad was. Well, I hope he will study hard now, and succeed next time."

"That is the worst of it," said Tom. "He has no second chance, for he has no money to live upon till the time comes. I told you about that will which has been stolen or lost; that was the only thing he had to depend upon, and he has got to earn his bread."

There was a general murmur of regret. Mrs Strachan particularly pitied him for having no mother to console him, though her husband thought that this was a redeeming feature in the case. If he had to bear her disappointment as well as his own it would be a great deal worse, he said, and no young fellow of spirit wants to be pitied.

"Besides," he added, "there is this to be thought of. Suppose he had succeeded, he would not have been in a very pleasant position. A subaltern trying to live upon his pay is placed about as uncomfortably as a lad can be. For my part, I am not sure that I would not sooner be a full private, if I must take to soldiering at all."

"But your other friend, Forsyth, who went out to Egypt to find the man who was supposed to have the will--has nothing been heard from him?"

asked Mary.

"Nothing to help," replied Tom. "There has been one letter from him, and he was as hopeful as ever; but he had only got as far as Cairo. Of course, if he succeeds Kavanagh will be right enough, but what is he to do in the meantime? He has no relative to go to, you see."

"We would have him here for a spell if it were likely to do him any good," said Captain Strachan.

"Thank you, father. It will be kind to ask him, but I know he won't come. He has never been sanguine about Forsyth's recovering the will, and I know had made up his mind to face the situation if he failed in this. He would feel that coming here would only make it more difficult afterwards. He expected to be spun, and I have no doubt has fixed his plans."

Although his friend's failure damped Tom Strachan's pleasure in his own success, it could not entirely quench it, and the family party soon grew more cheery.

Of course the publication of the list was a terrible facer for Kavanagh, and when he saw the certainty of his failure his heart thumped hard and his brain reeled for half a minute. But when the mist cleared from his eyes he drew a long breath, shook himself, and lit a cigar. He did not bother himself with "ifs." _If_ he had read this subject a little more, and that a little less, he would have got so many more marks. _If_ those questions he had particularly crammed in such a subject had been set. _If_ there had been three more vacancies, etcetera. Neither did he regret his former want of application, which he had done his very utmost to remedy the last year. Nor did he give way to a pa.s.sion of vexation about the missing will, or repine at Fate. "What's the use?"

he said to himself when these thoughts recurred to him; and he smothered them as he walked towards his room--this was in the chambers of a brother militia officer who played at being a barrister and lived in the Temple. As he was a sportsman and an Alpine climber, he did not live very much in London, and finding that his subaltern, Kavanagh, was going to lodge in the capital for the sake of reading with a crammer, and having a spare bedroom which he did not want, and was thinking of letting off if he found a friend whose coming in and out would not bore him, to take it, he proposed that the lad should do so. If he liked to pay him 20 pounds a year he might; if not, it did not matter. For he had taken a great fancy to Kavanagh, who, indeed, was a general favourite. When Royce, the owner of the chambers, was away, Kavanagh had the sole use of the sitting-room as well as of the bedroom; and when he was in town it was much the same thing. They breakfasted together, but Royce spent most of the day at his club.

He was in London now, and Kavanagh wished he was not, for he did not want consolation, advice, or offer of help. He knew that he had to work out this business for himself, and the less said the better. Royce was not in now, that was one consolation. Kavanagh went up to his room, and began overhauling his clothes. He selected an old pair of corduroy trousers which he had used for shooting, with a coat and waistcoat which had been worn with them, and a pair of boots bought in the country ready-made, on an occasion when he had been obliged, by an accident to his wardrobe, to supply himself in a hurry. A much-worn check s.h.i.+rt, with collar attached, and a black silk handkerchief, with a pair of worsted socks, completed the lot of clothes which he laid upon the bed, and for which he then changed what things he had on. These he packed up with all his other clothes in several portmanteaus and carpet bags. He next placed his tall hat away in its box, and, having completed these arrangements, put on a wideawake, went out, and called a four-wheeler.

Then he went upstairs again, and returned with a tin uniform-case on one shoulder and a portmanteau in his hand. It took him three trips to bring all his goods down and stow them on and in the cab. When at last he had accomplished it, he was stopped as he drove off by one of the officials, who said--

"Halloa, my man, where are you off to with Mr Kavanagh's luggage?"

"I am Mr Kavanagh," he replied.

"I beg your pardon, sir," said the man, touching his hat, as he recognised him.

It was not very far that he took the cab, only across to Holywell Street, where he stopped at an old clothes shop, and dismissed the astonished cabby, after having carried all the luggage inside, a young man with a hooked nose helping him quite as a matter of course.

"Now, then," said Kavanagh, "what are you going to give me for all these things, clothes, uniform, portmanteaus, cases, and all. Of course they will go dirt cheap, but don't overdo it, or I shall call a cab and go on to the next establishment. I don't mind the trouble of packing up again."

"Theresh no one in the street gives so good a prish as me," said the man, turning over the different articles, and beginning to depreciate them. There was no sale for uniforms; those s.h.i.+rts were thin in the back; that coat was too big for most customers, and so forth. Kavanagh cut him short--

"I don't want to know all that; come to the point, and say what you will give for the lot."

"What do you ask?" counter-responded the Jew.

"Twenty pounds; and that's an alarming sacrifice."

"Twenty pounds! Did any one ever hear the like! Twenty pounds for old clothes!"

"Why, you would sell the portmanteaus and tin cases alone for ten, and that overcoat for three."

"You think so, my tear young man? Tear, tear, how little you know of the trade! I'll give you five pounds for the lot, and then I doubt if I shall make any profit," and the dealer looked determined.

"Say ten pounds, and it's a bargain," said Kavanagh.

"No, I say five, and I mean five. Take it, or leave it."

"Well, to have done with all bother, we will make it seven pounds,"

cried Kavanagh, who was amused with his first attempt at making a deal of the kind.

The Jew compressed his lips and shook his head.

"Very good, then," said Kavanagh, dragging one of the portmanteaus towards him, and beginning to pack it. "I will try my luck over the way there. I see it is so close a cab will not be necessary; I can carry the things across. Sorry to have troubled you."

"Here, stop a bit," said the Jew. "Say six pounds, and that is a more generous offer than you will get anywhere else."

Kavanagh went on with his packing.

"Well, six ten, and that will swallow up all my profit, I fear, but I'll risk it for once. Well, come, seven pounds then, since you must have it."

So Kavanagh left goods and chattels, which had cost about seventy pounds, behind him, and walked out with a tenth part of that sum in cash.

Then he went down the Strand till he came to a p.a.w.nbroker's, where he disposed of the rings, studs, and pins which he possessed, thus adding a further ten pounds to his capital.

His next visit was to a watchmaker's, where he was known, though the owner of it did not recognise him at first in his shabby clothes.

"You see I have come down in the world, Mr Balance," said Kavanagh.

Mr Balance put on what he meant for a grave and sympathetic face.

"To wear a gold watch and chain would be absurd in my altered circ.u.mstances. Are you willing to change them for a stout silver one which will keep as good time, and pay me something for the difference?"

"Certainly I will, Mr Kavanagh; but, dear me, sir, pardon my asking; your guardian, Mr Burke, was such an old customer. I hope sir, there has been no unpleasantness between you."

"None whatever; only he has died, poor man, and his will, in which I know that I was well treated, cannot be found. So you see I must not indulge in gold watches."

"Dear me!" said the old man, to whom Kavanagh had gone for his first watch when quite a little boy, and upon whom he had called whenever he was in town since; to get the second handsome gold hunter now in question; to have it cleaned; to buy some little knick-knack, or merely for a chat. "Dear me; I do hope all will come right; I am _sure_ all will come right."