Deep Waters, the Entire Collection. William Wymark Jacobs

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СКАЧАТЬ give it to her in the morning,” said the other, snatching it from him. “Now get off.”

      Mr. Hurst still murmuring apologies, went, and Mr. Mott, also murmuring, returned to bed. The night was chilly, and it was some time before he could get to sleep again. He succeeded at last, only to be awakened an hour later by a knocking more violent than before. In a state of mind bordering upon frenzy, he dived into his trousers again and went blundering downstairs in the dark.

      “Sorry to—” began Mr. Hurst.

      Mr. Mott made uncouth noises at him.

      “I have altered my mind,” said the young man. “Would you mind letting me have that letter back again? It was too final.”

      “You—get—off!” said the other, trembling with cold and passion.

      “I must have that letter,” said Mr. Hurst, doggedly. “All my future happiness may depend upon it.”

      Mr. Mott, afraid to trust himself with speech, dashed upstairs, and after a search for the matches found the letter, and, returning to the front door, shut it on the visitor’s thanks. His niece’s door opened as he passed it, and a gentle voice asked for enlightenment.

      “How silly of him!” she said, softly. “I hope he won’t catch cold. What did you say?”

      “I was coughing,” said Mr. Mott, hastily.

      “You’ll get cold if you’re not careful,” said his thoughtful niece. “That’s the worst of men, they never seem to have any thought. Did he seem angry, or mournful, or what? I suppose you couldn’t see his face?”

      “I didn’t try,” said Mr. Mott, crisply. “Good night.”

      By the morning his ill-humour had vanished, and he even became slightly facetious over the events of the night. The mood passed at the same moment that Mr. Hurst passed the window.

      “Better have him in and get it over,” he said, irritably.

      Miss Garland shuddered.

      “Never!” she said, firmly. “He’d be down on his knees. It would be too painful. You don’t know him.”

      “Don’t want to,” said Mr. Mott.

      He finished his breakfast in silence, and, after a digestive pipe, proposed a walk. The profile of Mr. Hurst, as it went forlornly past the window again, served to illustrate Miss Garland’s refusal.

      “I’ll go out and see him,” said Mr. Mott, starting up. “Are you going to be a prisoner here until this young idiot chooses to go home? It’s preposterous!”

      He crammed his hat on firmly and set out in pursuit of Mr. Hurst, who was walking slowly up the street, glancing over his shoulder. “Morning!” said Mr. Mott, fiercely. “Good morning,” said the other.

      “Now, look here,” said Mr. Mott. “This has gone far enough, and I won’t have any more of it. Why, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, chivvying a young lady that doesn’t want you. Haven’t you got any pride?”

      “No,” said the young man, “not where she is concerned.”

      “I don’t believe you have,” said the other, regarding him, “and I expect that’s where the trouble is. Did she ever have reason to think you were looking after any other girls?”

      “Never, I swear it,” said Mr. Hurst, eagerly.

      “Just so,” said Mr. Mott, with a satisfied nod. “That’s where you made a mistake. She was too sure of you; it was too easy. No excitement. Girls like a man that other girls want; they don’t want a turtle-dove in fancy trousers.”

      Mr. Hurst coughed.

      “And they like a determined man,” continued Miss Garland’s uncle. “Why, in my young days, if I had been jilted, and come down to see about it, d’you think I’d have gone out of the house without seeing her? I might have been put out—by half-a-dozen—but I’d have taken the mantelpiece and a few other things with me. And you are bigger than I am.”

      “We aren’t all made the same,” said Mr. Hurst, feebly.

      “No, we’re not,” said Mr. Mott. “I’m not blaming you; in a way, I’m sorry for you. If you’re not born with a high spirit, nothing’ll give it to you.”

      “It might be learnt,” said Mr. Hurst. Mr. Mott laughed.

      “High spirits are born, not made,” he said. “The best thing you can do is to go and find another girl, and marry her before she finds you out.”

      Mr. Hurst shook his head.

      “There’s no other girl for me,” he said, miserably. “And everything seemed to be going so well. We’ve been buying things for the house for the last six months, and I’ve just got a good rise in my screw.”

      “It’ll do for another girl,” said Mr. Mott, briskly. “Now, you get off back to town. You are worrying Florrie by staying here, and you are doing no good to anybody. Good-bye.”

      “I’ll walk back as far as the door with you,” said Mr. Hurst. “You’ve done me good. It’s a pity I didn’t meet you before.”

      “Remember what I’ve told you, and you’ll do well yet,” he said, patting the young man on the arm.

      “I will,” said Mr. Hurst, and walked on by his side, deep in thought.

      “I can’t ask you in,” said Mr. Mott, jocularly, as he reached his door, and turned the key in the lock. “Good-bye.”

      “Good-bye,” said Mr. Hurst.

      He grasped the other’s outstretched hand, and with a violent jerk pulled him into the street. Then he pushed open the door, and, slipping into the passage, passed hastily into the front room, closely followed by the infuriated Mr. Mott.

      “What—what—what!” stammered that gentleman.

      “I’m taking your tip,” said Mr. Hurst, pale but determined. “I’m going to stay here until I have seen Florrie.”

      “You—you’re a serpent,” said Mr. Mott, struggling for breath. “I—I’m surprised at you. You go out before you get hurt.”

      “Not without the mantelpiece,” said Mr. Hurst, with a distorted grin.

      “A viper!” said Mr. Mott, with extreme bitterness. “If you are not out in two minutes I’ll send for the police.”

      “Florrie wouldn’t like that,” said Mr. Hurst. “She’s awfully particular about what people think. You just trot upstairs and tell her that a gentleman wants to see her.”

      He threw himself into Mr. Mott’s own particular easy chair, and, crossing his knees, turned a deaf ear to the threats of that incensed gentleman. Not until the latter had left the room did his features reveal the timorousness of the soul within. Muffled voices sounded from upstairs, and it was evident that an argument of considerable length was in progress. It was also evident from the return of Mr. Mott alone that his niece had had the best of it.

      “I’ve СКАЧАТЬ