door and locked it from the inside.
"Poor old chap!" said he.
Then he went through his pockets and laid the contents on the narrow
mantel-piece. These were a gold watch and chain, a cornelian heart
fixed to the free end of the chain, a silver cigarette case, a couple
of keys, one sovereign, four shillings, three pennies and two
half-pennies. A trunk already fastened and filled with books and
clothes, and the portmanteau on the bed, contained the rest of his
possessions. In current coin his whole fortune amounted to one pound,
four shillings and fourpence. Luckily he had paid his landlady. One
pound four and fourpence to begin again at three-and-twenty the battle
of life on which he had entered at thirteen. He laughed because he was
young and strong, and knew that such reverses were foreordained
chapters in the lives of those born to a glorious destiny. They were
also preordained chapters in the lives of those born to failure, like
poor old Wilmer. He was conscious of the wide difference between Wilmer
and himself. Good Heavens! To face the world at forty-three, with wife
and children and threepence-halfpenny, and the once attendant hope
replaced by black-vestured doom! Poor Wilmer! He felt certain that
Wilmer had not been able to pay his landlady, and he felt that he had
been mean in keeping back the other sovereign.
The sudden loss, however, of three-fourths of his fortune brought him
up against practical considerations. The more he had in his pocket when
he arrived in London, the longer could he subsist. That was important,
because theatrical engagements are not picked up in a hurry. Now; the
railway fare would swallow a goodly number of shillings. Obviously it
was advisable to save the railway fare; and the only way to do this was
to walk to London. His young blood thrilled at the notion. It was
romantic. It was also inspiring of health and joy. He had been rather
run down lately, and, fearful of the catastrophe which had in fact
occurred, he had lived this last week very sparingly---chiefly on
herrings and tea. A hundred and fifty miles' tramp along the summer
roads, with bread and cheese and an occasional glass of beer to keep
him going, would be just the thing to set him up again. He looked in
the glass. Yes, his face was a bit pinched and his eyes were rather too
bright. A glorious tramp to London, thirty or forty miles a day in the
blazing and beautiful sunshine, was exactly what he needed.
Joyously he
|