Aaron the Jew. B. L. Farjeon

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       MR. MOSS PLAYS HIS PART.

      At five o'clock on the afternoon of that day Dr. Spenlove returned to his apartments. Having given away the money with which he had intended to pay his fare to London, he had bethought him of a gentleman living in Southsea of whom he thought he could borrow a sovereign or two for a few weeks. He had walked the distance, and had met with disappointment; the gentleman was absent on business, and might be absent several days.

      "Upon my word," said the good doctor, as he drearily retraced his steps, "it is almost as bad as being shipwrecked; worse, because there are no railways on desert islands. What on earth am I to do? Get to London I must, by hook or by crook, and there is absolutely nothing I can turn into money."

      Then he bethought himself of Mr. Moss, and in his extremity determined to make an appeal in that quarter. Had it not been for what had occurred last night, he would not have dreamed of going to this gentleman, of whose goodness of heart he had had no previous experience, and upon whose kindness he had not the slightest claim. Arriving at Mr. Moss's establishment, another disappointment attended him. Mr. Moss was not at home, and they could not say when he would return. So Dr. Spenlove, greatly depressed, walked slowly on, his mind distressed with troubles and perplexities.

      He had seen nothing more of Mr. Gordon, who had left him in the early morning with a simple acknowledgment in words of the service he had rendered; nor had he seen anything further of Mrs. Turner. On his road home he called at her lodgings, and heard from her fellow-lodger that she had left the house.

      "We don't know where she's gone to, sir," the woman said; "but the rent has been paid up, and a sovereign was slipped under my door. If it wasn't that she was so hard up I should have thought it came from her."

      "I have no doubt it did," Dr. Spenlove answered. "She has friends who are well-to-do, and I know that one of these friends, discovering her position, was anxious to assist her."

      "I am glad to hear it," said the woman; "and it was more than kind of her to remember me. I always had an idea that she was above us."

      As he was entering his room his landlady ran up from the kitchen.

      "Oh, doctor, there's a parcel and two letters for you in your room, and Mr. Moss has been here to see you. He said he would come again."

      "Very well, Mrs. Radcliffe," said Dr. Spenlove; and, cheered by the news of the promised visit, he passed into his apartment. On the table were the letters and the parcel. The latter, carefully wrapped in thick brown paper, was the iron box he had given to Mrs. Turner. One of the letters was in her handwriting, and it informed him that her child had been taken away and that she was on the point of leaving Portsmouth.

      "I am not permitted," the letter ran, "to inform you where I am going, and I am under the obligation of not writing to you personally after I leave this place. This letter is sent without the knowledge of the gentleman for whom you acted, and I do not consider myself bound to tell him that I have written it. What I have promised to do I will do faithfully, but nothing further. You, who of all men in the world perhaps know me best, will understand what I am suffering as I pen these lines. I send with my letter the box you were kind enough to give me last night. It contains the memorial of which I spoke to you. Dear Dr. Spenlove, I rely upon you to carry out my wishes with respect to it. If you are acquainted with the guardian of my child, convey it to him, and beg him to retain it until my darling is of age, or until I am free to seek her. It is not in your nature to refuse the petition of a heartbroken mother; it is not in your nature to violate a promise. For all the kindnesses you have shown me receive my grateful and humble thanks. That you will be happy and successful, and that God will prosper you in all your undertakings, will be my constant prayer. Farewell."

      Laying this letter aside he opened the second, which was in a handwriting strange to him:--

      "Dear Sir,--

      "All my arrangements are made, and the business upon which we spoke together is satisfactorily concluded. You will find enclosed a practical expression of my thanks. I do not give you my address for two reasons. First, I desire no acknowledgment of the enclosure; second, I desire that there shall be no correspondence between us upon any subject. Feeling perfectly satisfied that the confidence I reposed in you will be respected,

      "I am,

      "Your obedient servant,

      "G. Gordon."

      The enclosure consisted of five Bank of England notes for £20 each.

      Dr. Spenlove was very much astonished and very much relieved. At this juncture the money was a fortune to him; there was a likelihood of its proving the turning-point in his career; and, although it had not been earned in the exercise of his profession, he had no scruple in accepting it. The generosity of the donor was, moreover, in some sense an assurance that he was sincere in all the professions he had made.

      "Mr. Moss, sir," said Mrs. Radcliffe, opening the door, and that gentleman entered the room.

      As usual, he was humming an operatic air; but he ceased as he closed the door, which, after a momentary pause, he reopened, to convince himself that the landlady was not listening in the passage.