After all, a hundred and fifty pounds a year was a beggarly amount on which to marry, and to secure even that limited happiness he would have six years still to wait. Of course, considering the relationship between them, Mr. Avison ought to do something more for him--ought to shove him on specially over the heads of some of the other fellows, or, in any case, give him a thumping advance in place of a paltry ten pounds. It was an awful shame that he, a blood relation, should be treated no differently from the veriest stranger, and that he should even have to knuckle under, as far as position in the office went, to that cad of an Ephraim Judd!
Among Frank's manifold acquaintances was a young man of the name of Winton, who had at one time been a clerk in Avison's Bank, but had since accepted a better-paid situation in Umpleby's Bank at Dulminster. Winton came over once or twice a month to Ashdown to see his relatives, on which occasions he and Derison generally contrived to have an hour or two together at their favorite billiards.
Said Winton on one occasion, nearly a year before the time of which we are now writing:
"I'm going to tell you a secret, old man, which you may or may not make use of to your own advantage. That will be for you to decide when you've heard it; only, you must first give me your sacred word of honor never to mention it to a soul."
Frank gave the required promise without difficulty.
"I know you often visit at John Brancker's," resumed the other, "and report has it that you're sweet on that pretty niece of his. Small blame to you, if you are, say I. However, if you're not, perhaps you'll think it advisable to be so when I whisper to you that in our books at Umpleby's the very nice little sum of twelve hundred pounds is at the present moment standing to the credit of Miss Hermia Rivers."
"Winton, you must be dreaming," was all Derison could say, so extreme was his astonishment.
"Not a bit of it, my boy. I've seen the account with my own eyes. Its been accumulating for years, at the rate of eighty pounds per annum. John comes over once a quarter, as regular as clockwork, bringing twenty pounds with him at each visit. The probability is that he banks with us in order that none of Avison's people may know anything of the affair."
"But are you quite sure that the account stands in the name of Miss Rivers, and of no one else?" asked Frank after a pause, during which he had been trying to digest his friend's startling information.
"Of course I'm sure. Hermia Rivers, and that alone, is the name in our ledger. I suppose honest John, having no children of his own, is investing his savings, or some portion of them, for the benefit of his niece. He'll be a lucky fellow that gets Miss Hermy for a wife. If I wasn't engaged already, hang me if I wouldn't have a cut-in on my own account."
It did not take Frank long to make up his mind what he ought to do; the duty he owed to himself lay clearly before him. He would propose to Hermy without a day's delay. He had loved her all along, but he felt that she was dearer, far dearer, to him now than ever she had been before.
CHAPTER V.
EPHRAIM JUDD CUTS HIS HAND.
Ephraim Judd was the victim of an insatiable curiosity with regard to the affairs of other people. To pry into the private business and personal histories of his fellow clerks, and of those with whom he was brought into contact in business, was with him a sort of mania. He had a special bunch of keys, procured it would be impossible to say how, which gave him access to nearly every drawer in the office; and many an evening when he stayed after the other clerks had gone, and was supposed to be busily at work, he was, in reality, engaged in prying into private correspondence, and other matters with which he had no manner of concern. It was not that the knowledge thus surreptitiously obtained was of any value to him, or was made use of to the detriment of those from whom it was stolen; it was simply hoarded up in his memory, where so much useless knowledge was stored up already, doubtless greatly to the satisfaction of his curiosity, which was the sole end he had in view. He was stopping to-night after John Brancker's departure because, in the course of the day, John had received a letter by post, the contents of which had seemed to puzzle him greatly, and Ephraim was hungering to know what the letter could possibly be about. After reading the letter two or three times, and wrinkling his brows over it, John had put it away in one of his drawers, and Ephraim was in the hopes of finding it there now.
John Brancker had not been gone more than ten minutes before Ephraim wiped his pen and laid it down. Then he sat perfectly still for a few moments, listening intently with those large, flexible ears of his. Nothing was to be heard save, now and then, the footsteps of someone passing in the street. With a hop and a skip, Ephraim was off his stool and at the door. Long practice had enabled him to turn the handle noiselessly. Holding the door half open, he waited and listened again. Sweet was probably downstairs getting his supper. A moment later Ephraim was on one knee against Mr. Hazeldine's door, and peering through the keyhole. In his india rubber overshoes he moved without a sound. He kept his eye to the keyhole for about a couple of minutes, and then he went back noiselessly to his own office.
"He doesn't seem to have much to do that need keep him so late," muttered Ephraim to himself. "I wonder what he's thinking about. He's got something on his mind, I'm positive he has. He's not the same man he was half a year ago."
While speaking thus he drew from one of his pockets a steel ring, on which were strung about a dozen keys. Selecting one of them, he inserted it into the lock of John Brancker's drawer, which it opened as easily as the proper key could have done. A crafty smile lighted up Ephraim's thin, sallow face as his fingers gripped the handle of the drawer. He pulled, but the drawer stuck and would only open to the extent of a few inches. A little patience would have remedied this, but Ephraim was in a hurry; Obed Sweet might come his rounds at any moment, so into the drawer went his long, lean fingers in search of the letter.
Now, John Brancker was in the habit of using a quill pen nearly as often as he used a steel one, and in his drawer was an office-knife, almost as sharp as a razor, which he used for the making and mending of the former. Ephraim never thought about the knife till his hand came in contact with the blade, a gash being the immediate result. He drew back his hand with an exclamation of pain, but not till the contents of the drawer had been sprinkled with sundry drops of blood. At this moment Sweet's premonitory cough was audible, and then the door was opened, and his head protruded into the room. Ephraim was obliged to stand still and let his wounded hand hang by his side.
"Not gone yet, sir?" said Sweet.
"No, but I'm just about done, and shall be off in a few minutes," answered Mr. Judd.
"All right, sir," responded Sweet. "The Guv'nor seems as if he was going to stick at it late to-night," he added. And with that he went on to talk of the weather, and lingered for fully five minutes before he finally went.
Looking down, Ephraim saw with dismay that there was quite a little pool of blood on the floor by this time. He had no means of cleaning it up, and was utterly at a loss what to do. He tied his handkerchief round his hand, and stood thinking for a minute or two. At length he decided that he would leave the floor as it was for to-night, and come to the Bank an hour earlier than usual in the morning, when the woman who cleaned the offices would be at work. He would give her sixpence, and with her soft soap and scrubbing-brush she would quickly efface the stains from the floor; or, if by chance any signs still remained, a little ink spilled carefully over the place would effectually hide them. Five minutes by daylight would suffice to so re-arrange the contents of the drawer, that John, who was the most unsuspicious of mortals, would never find out that they had been disturbed. Having thus decided on his plan, Ephraim proceeded to re-lock the drawer, then he put on his overcoat, muffler and hat, and took possession of his stick, after which he turned off the gas. At the door he paused to listen,