The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1884-10-25 00:00:00

AMBITION'S LADDER
By the Author of " Atherstone Grange," "4 We for
a Love," j-e.

CHAPTER XXIIL
A COOL CUSTOMER.
One of those poor knaves,
Whom the world forms to play at football with-.
A rascal by compulsion, not by nature;
With something good beneath his villainy,
Turned all awry by outward circumstance.

•Osonoe &imam- Was—as may already have been
gleaned from his father's observations —by no means
of a stay-at-home disposition. His modest com-
petence put him beyond any necessity for exertion
in the way of earning a living, and he elected to
take existence easily, spending most of his time
abroad and paying only occasional duty visits to his
father.
Taken on the whole,
_there was not much harm in

the fife he chose to lead, beyond the fact that if no
glaring evil could be charged against him, neither
could it be said that the world was any better for
his presence in it. Talent he had in plenty,
capability of no common order, but these he suffered
to remain unused, contenting himself with the
present, ignoring all responsibilities, all thought of
any higher purposes to be accomplished, any more
pressing duties than those which conduced to his
immediate pleasure and convenience.
With all this, however, he could not justly be
accused of actual indolence. He travelled much, in

,
_
bird of passage fashion. Never hurrying himself
on any account, scarcely ever with any object in view
beyond the caprice of the moment, which—often as
not—cut his wanderings short at some place far
distant from the bourne he had designed to reach.
And this plan he carried out upon principle. The
ordinary resting-places affected by tourists possessed
no charms for him, but he liked society and a
moderate amount of excitement. Not too much,
for he was temperate in his habits and avoided all
excess, so that wherever he might chance to instal
himself for the time being, whether in London,
Paris, or any other capital, or may be in some quiet
old-world town that happened to strike his truant
fancy, George Sartons lived entirely in and for
himself.

One virtue he possessed—or rather let it be said
a prudential quality, which answered the same pur-
pose. He never outran his income, nor troubled his
father for assistance. Not but what the elder Mr.
Sartoris was quite able and willing to make him a
handsome allowance, and had, indeed, more than
once urged such upon him.
But George Sartoris declined the proffered help.
r "To begin with, I really don't want any more
than I have got, sir," he replied respectfully—he
was always respectful to his father. "If I did—"
"You would come upon me readily enough, I
have no doubt," Mr. Sartoris had broken in, a
little irritably. "Well, well, it's no use going over
the old, well-worn subject; but upon my word,
George' I believe the greatest misfortune that could
have befallen you was the legacy that makes you
so independent of my help."
"Perhaps you are right, sir," answered the young
man, languidly, a manner of his that exasperated
Mr. Sartoris beyond measure. "Fact is, I've told
myself the same thing more than once; but my
habits, good or bad, are too confirmed now for
alteration."

" More's the pity," sharply retorted his father.
"However, I know of old how useless it would be
to argue you into another belief. You want no
money, then ?"
"None, thank you. I hold the man a fool who
cannot limit his desires within what bounds he can
afford. I have always done so."
"Still, there is no reason why you should dint
yourself. lam dissappointed in you, George; you
know that ?"

"Yes, sir, perfectly. And lam quite aware that
I have given you cause so to be."
"But—there are only us two," continued the old
man, a little shake in his voice. "I don't spend half
my income, and there is no reason why, if you want
it, you should not take some, at least of what will be
all your own when—when I am gone."
"I hope you don't think I ever make any calcu-
tions on that score, returned the son a little
moved by the reference, in spite of his cold-
bloodedness.
"No, no! Of course not. But such a thing
must come to pass in course of time, you know."
"As to the rest of us. Yes. Still, that is yet
in the far future, I trust. As for your offer, I
thank you for it heartily, and would as heartily
accept it—if I wanted help, but Ido not.*
And so the matter dropped. To be resumed more
than- once, indeed, for Mr. Sartoris never failed to
reintroduce it whenever he and his son met, but
tlways with the same result.
It was partly pride, partly a lingering conscious-
ness in the mind of George Sartoris that he had, by
the course of life he had chosen, forfeited any claim
to share his father's riches, that led to this, but
more than all because he Broke truly in declaring his
own means to be ample for his wants.
He was, indeed, by no means extravagant nor
given to prodigality. Abstemieets as much from
inclination as the knowledge that excess of any kind
only tends to blunt the power of enjoyment, he
lived well, even luxuriously, upon a much smaller
sum than many people imagined from his sur-
roundings. Comfort of body, ease of mind,
were all he asked, and these he enjoyed to the
uttermost.

The last was the natural outcome of what the
cynical French philosopher once declared to be
all that is necessary to ensure long life and
perfect happiness. A good digestion, thanks to
his moderation of the pleasures of the table, had
Geore Sartoris, and a conscience which, if not
utterly bad, was yet callous enough to give him no
trouble.

For the first requisite, however, he was indebted
to another person—his valet.
It has been said that George Sartbris was not ex-
travagant, but in the matter of a servant he con-
sidered it false economy to be niggardly, and
Edwards was in receipt of a salary far beyond what
many a poor City clerk is forced to exist upon, and
sometimes support a family. But, to a man of his
master's habits, Edwards was well worth the money
paid him, and he was perfectly aware of the fact,
though his knowledge never made him Dresamu-
tuous.

Quiet, methodical, and gifted with a rare—q-dic-k-
-ness of perception that enabled him to anticipate a
want before it was spoken, Mr. Sartoris had grown
so accustomed to his services that he would have
felt himself almost helpless if deprived of them ;
while on the other hand Edwards served ' him with
an attached fidelity, an almost womanish devotion
that sometimes excited no small curiosity among
those who knew George Sartoris, for that gentleman
had by no means the reputation of being one
calculated to inspire either sentiment.
But they were wrong so far as concerned Edwards.
The man had really contrasted an almost dog-like
attachment to his master, serving him not only for
good wage—which he did not at all despise,
however—but for love, and regarded him with
veneration and respect seldom accorded to an em-
ployer in these days, however common they may
have been amongst retainers of bygone ages.
"There isn't another like him," Edwards was
wont to assert of his master at such times as he
found himself in the select society of others of his
fraternity, and the merits and demerits of their
respective_ situations came under his discussion.

" teave his service No. that I wouldn't, not to
be own gentleman to Baron Rothschild or the Doolc
of Westminster himself for double the screw I get
from my man—and that's not saying a little, I can
tell yon."

And it was no more lip homage he paid. Every
word of praise he used was meant sincerely, without
any reservation.
It is sometimes a matter for wonder, but there
are men—and George Sartoris was one among the
number—who seem to attract others from whom the
world in general would expect little evidence of
gratitude. Still, this is not altogether so strange,
for cold and unloving as such men may be, there
are few so entirely devoid of human sympathy as to
lack the service of at least one faithful heart, nor is
it always one of the softer sex who is the patient,
untiring drudgeof such men as accept that service
without a moment's doubt that it is their rightful
due.
On the contrary, men will ofttimes suffender
themselves as willing slaves to other men, bow
down before them and tender their humble duty
with a thorough heartiness and abnegation of self
for which no apparent reason can be given. But
with this difference, indeed—that while a woman
loves with her whole heart and soul blindly, not
knowing or caring wherefore, some reason—if it lies
not on the surface —may usually be ascribed for
man's liking.
And so with George Sartoris's valet. The motive
power which first influenced him was fear—terror so
great as to deprive him of even the desire to shake
off the shackles which bound him.
His acquaintance with Mr. Sartoris was of long
standing, and the circumstances under which it
had been brought about were hardly such as would
have induced any other man to trust him so com-
pletely as his master came to do. Mr. Sartoris,
however, was keen-sighted, and the result proved
his confidence not to be misplaced. He was stroll-
ing idly homewards from his club one night,
through park-lane, his brain busy with some nco
very pleasant thoughts—for although he rarely
allowea his conscience to disturb the placid serenity
of mind he had been at such pains to cultivate,
that inward monitor would sometimes ingist upon
a hearing, and force even him to reflection. He
trien to shake off the feeling, but in vain. He had
committed no sin, he told himself' but 8
It till the
s
accusing voice would not be silenced wa
simply that he had neglected a trust—one that was
fore upon him against his inclination, doubtless,but ' one that he had accepted, hovtevet‘t
though .14vill
ingl —and ough many months had elapsed, and
$.O
he, ha cl almost succeeded in banishing the matter
from :., meirmy, it came back to him this night
with.; ..., 'go persistence, and refused to be dis-
lodsed,
oNhat he would, he could not shut out from
Ins yiental vision the memory of a sad, mournful
iacoWeyes that gazed at him appealingly, re-
g him it seemed. with the nonfulfilment of
Eis oledeo. '

it was only fancy, of course; but a fancy so
strong that he could not shake it off, or divest
himself of the cold, uncomfortable feeling it
produced.
"I must be getting hipped, I fancy," he exclaimed
angrily, at last, throwing back his head with a
determined gesture. "Or else this confounded fog
has given me a fit of the blues. What the deuce has
put her into my head again? After all, I was not
in fault; I can't even accuse myself of carelessness.
I'm sorry, though, that I allowed her to leave me
that night, desperate as she was, poor girl! If • I
could but find out the thief who stole those letters
from me—if I could only remember where it was
she lived—something might be done. But it's no
use brooding over that now, I shall never—Hullo!
Confound you!"
The cause of this sudden exclamation was a de-
termined pull at his watch guard, which put a stop
to his reflections, and turning sharply about he saw
the fast-retreating figure of a youth, making off
with such celerity as would quickly have ensured
his escape, had it not chanced that George Sartoris
was also fleet of foot, and put forth his speed to
such effect that a sharp run of some twenty yards
brought him alongside the fugitive, who, arrested
by the strong hand of his captor, stood panting and
breathless, after one brief survey, which convinced
him that any attempt to escape by force would be
fruitless.

" Here, that'll do, guv'nor!" sullenly protested
the lad wriggling in Mr. Sartoris's:grasp. "There
ain't no call for you to go and choke a feller."
"You'll be choked to some purpose one of these
days, I've no doubt," Mr. Sarteris responded
grimly, giving his captive an admonitory shake as
ho spoke. "You're on the high road to such an
ending already. What have you got to say against
my holding you till a policeman comes up, and then
giving you in charger
"You can do what you likes, of course," was the
lad's reply, spoken in an impudently-defiant tone,
that had something of hope in it, for he argued to
himself that such a question betrayed, at least, a
measure of uncertainty on the "swell cove's" part
as to what part he intended taking; "only you
needn't go for.to hold a poor fellow so tight as he
can't breathe, need you, now? There ain't much
fear as I can slip away from you."
"I don't intend to give you the chance just yet,
my fine fellow," answered George Sartoris slightly
relaxing, however, his hold on the lad's collar.
"You don't look old enough to be a very hardened
criminal, though; so, perhaps-- How long a time
have your talents been employed in so hazardous
a profession—tell me F"
The lad looked up at him with rather a puzzled
expression oftface, before answering this question.
"Eh P' he said, dubiously.
"I mean, how long have you been a thief ?—that
is the plain word, though I suppose gentlemen of
your calling disguise it under a less offensive-
sounding epithet."
"What do you want to know for ?" recklessly
answered the 3 outh. "All my life, then, though
I've never been nabbed before."

" Really ! You have been exceptionally fortunate,
then, I presume V
"I don't know what you mean," retorted the
youth, who was, in fact, rather at a loss to under-
stand the coolness of his captor, and resented the
use of such long syllables. "If you're a going to
have me locked up, say so. If not, let me go.
You've got your ticker all right; what more do you
want ?"

"Well, I'm not quite sure upon that point,"
answered the gentleman, who regarded his captive
with a little mixture of curiosity and admiration.
Coolness and self-possession being qualities he
rather plumed himself Upon ;laving cultivated in
no ordinary degree, he owed appreciate in others' •
though he hardly knew now whether to be amused
or disgusted at finding the same attributes so fully
developed in a pick-pocket.
"Well, look sharp, then, and make up your
mind," the youth retorted, with an impudent grin on
his features. "I don't want to stand here talking
all night.'
"Upon my honour, you're about as cool a youncr,
s-oundrel as I ever had the pleasure of meeting,"
said Mr. Sartoris, laughing in spite of himself.
" What's the use of putting oneself out of the
way ?" the lad replied in the same tone. "I never
do ; so give us the straight tip, gav'nor. What are
you going to do with me?"
" Urn ! That remains to be decided," answered
Mr. Sartoris, after a moment's pause. His mind
was divided on the subject. On the one hand,
there was the natural impulse to punish an attack
upon his pocket; but on the other, he could not do
so without an amount of trouble to which he was
averse.

At last he resolved upon a middle course.
"Do you know Duke-street ?" hel asked,
abruptly.
The lad nodded.

Very well. Go straight there, in front of me;
but understand, I shall keep close behind you, and
if I see the least sign of your trying to escape, if
you increase your pace in the slightest degree, I shall
inauediately hand you over to the police."
"And if not—will you let me go P'
"I'll promise nothing. Take your choice or leave
it."

For a moment the lad hesitated, then gave a short
nod of acquiescence, and, released from the grasp
that had hitherto detained him, set steadily forward
in the direction indicated.

(To 6e continued.)

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