The Savannah morning news., 1902-11-28

PAIN OF MS mana ana Degged me 10
accept them for my honesty" Again
L declined. Then he said, You and
your friend must and shall take a
drive with, me into the country. l have
just bought a pony and trap, and we
shall go down to Greenwich and have
a whitehall dinner"
The offer was tempting, but i de-
clined it. l had to find lodgings be-
fore the night came on.
He was a sadly disappointed man,
and 1 felt sorry for him. He was such
simple, guileless, friendly old chap.
l trembled for his safety in the streets
of wicked London, with all those thou
sands of pounds upon him, so careless
ly tucked away in his coat pockets. l
shall never forget his fine ruddy face.
as round and pleasant as that of the
full moon; it was bedming like that of
schoolboy's free from books and
slate. He was faultlessy dressed in
spotless broadcloth and shiny top hat.
He had on white cravat of the Brum-
mel period, a buff waistcoat with flaps,
and trousers of a somewhat darker
stuff. He looked like one of Punch's
old English squires come up to town
to vote on the Deceased Wife's Sisters
bill. / felt very anxious about him.
AS l would not accept his purse nor
dine with him, he insisted, as a reward
for my honesty. that l should drink a
glass of champagne with him. That
offer 1 also declined; then, in sheer des-
peration, he asked: You and your
friend will not refuse to drink a glass
of sherry with me?"
NO" l said, I'VE will have some
sherry with you, and here is a pub
lic'''
Into the public" we went. 1t was
such a very shady place that, under
my breath, l asked my friend, that
civil engineer, Aren't we in Queer
street," NO" he said, ''it is quite
respectable place. know It,"
Behind the bar there stood a very
yellow haired, overdressed and vul-
carly handsome barmaid, who was so
deeply engaged in contest of light and
airy persifiage with the barber from
next door as to be quite oblivious to
our presence and also to our repeated
requests for SHERRY, pleased"
There was a small room adjacent to
the bar, in which there were three or
four chairs and a table. In front, to
shut it off from the taproom, there was
a curtain.
The Squire was in no hurry, appar-
entity; the young person, he said, lis
busy with her sweetheart. Let us step
inside here and wait"
The three of us stepped in and sat
down. He called again and again for
| the wine. but it did not come got
| impatient and arose to go. He earnest
| ~ detained me. He could not bear to
| part with me. My honesty had i'm
| pressed him profoundly. He wished to
tell me story which he knew would
| interest me. How did he know, it
might concern me? He was such a
| good, kindly, cordial, unsophisticated
| old fellow that could not be rude to
| him. / again sat down and listened
| to his story, So did my friend, the
| civil engineer, who was also a very
nice, pleasant, polite kind of man.
1t was a curious story 1 heard. The
| old Squire's father, strangely enough,
had been captain in the foreign mer-
| chant marine. He had sailed all seas.
/ visited all countries, had made many
| ventures and prospered exceedingly.
| Also, in some countries. he had had
| mishaps, had been sick and nigh unto
| death in strange lands, among others
in Holland and the United States, where
in his hours of sickness he had been
| tenderly nursed and cared for. For
| these attentions and kindnesses he had
felt very grateful and coming to die at
| home. the old sailor remembered the
| peoples who had tended him, and he
| provided in his will that to each of
! those countries whose people had
nursed him his son and
heirS-the old British Squire, from De-
vonshire, whose purse / had found
| should give a prescribed large sum
yearly. The beneficent sailor had been
| dead and buried several years at the
time I met his heir, but his gratefully
| benevolent requests had never been
| consummated.
| Meeting me as the son did, and know
| ing me, he said, for an honest man as
| he did, he most earnestly requested
| that l would consent to take a few
| ten or twenty-thousand pounds to dis
| tribute among my poor countryrnen in
| accordance with his venerated parents
Will. With this request, out came the
great pocketbook, overlooking with
Bank of England notes of untold
amount.
/ thought. of course, that my friend,
the old British Squire, was stark mad.
and l had, / knew not why, the fear
that my friend, the civil engineer.
would have that pocketbook or it's con-
tents before he left him. This sus-
picion or fear was intensified when the
dear, simple old Squire asked the po-
lite civil engineer if he would not also
accept few thousands, of pounds to
distribute among the poor of his coun-
try, and the polite gentleman from The
Hague said he would be pleased to do
so as the dykes had overlooked Hol-
land and caused much distress there.
/ was so deeply interested in the
story and in the poor old lunatic from
Devonshire that I did not notice the
sherry had not been served, but taking
the Squire aside 7 begged him to get
into a cab and drive to his hotel and
be careful to give nobody any money
except in the presence Of and with the
advice of his solicitor. Especially, ]
urged him not to give any to my friend
the civil engineer.
But he would not listen to me- IT
was sacred trust he had to fulfill. /
must, he declared. take certain thous-
ands of pounds to my country to give
to the poor. But. he said, as II IL had
just occurred to his dull mind and as
IL it were a mighty jest, my fathers
will provides that to whomsoever / en-
trust the money he must. as a mere
matter of good faith, place in my
hands before receiving the bequest
e100."
l looked at my friend. the civil engin-
eer, to see what he. thought of this new
phase OF this most interesting MARIA
tive. He said he Thought that to be a
very good and wise precaution He.
himself, happened to have fi00 In his
pocket that very minute. and would
hand IL over cheerfully.