The Young Marvel by Uncle Jasper - HTML preview

''Now Mr Gladman," said the detective, fixing that gentleman with a keen eye, "you're the key witness in all this. That's why I was glad when they told me you were here. I want you to have a close look at Seamus Benjamin Murphy and tell me if he was the man who threw the bricks through your shop window and uttered threats of violence against the peace of our Sovereign Lady, Queen Victoria?" He took off his hat to emphasise the seriousness of his words.

Mr Gladman opened his mouth several times as though about to speak but shut it again without uttering anything. None of his companions around the table would help. They all looked away.

The detective nodded. "That's right! Think before you testify to anything. The court always has a better opinion of a witness who gives thoughtful replies. Now, is this the man in question?"

Mr Gladman gulped and glanced round at everyone in the kitchen with the same result as before and then had a good look at the hangdog Benno. He shook his head and said timidly, "I don't think that's him."

"What?" Detective Jones' jovial manner suddenly froze. "What do you mean, it's not him? The arresting constables attest that you stated at the time that Murphy was the culprit. He was heard to utter threats against you; do you have the face to tell me he was not responsible for breaking your windows?"

"I've thought about it," was the nervous response, "And I believe I was too hasty in accusing Murphy. It seems to me there was another man who ran away straight after the bricks came through the window. He was much taller, and on reflection I believe he was the one who did the damage."

The detective glared at him. "What is it about this hotel that taints everyone that enters it. You're a church going man, Mr Gladman, a pillar of the community; a man that expects to go to heaven one day if he doesn't tell too many lies. How do you expect to get there if you subvert the Queen's Justice like this? What about the threats he made against you? Are you going to pass those over lightly?"

Mr Gladman had made up his mind. "I remember most of what he said and I don't want to press charges. I will get up in court, if I have to, and say I'm not sure who threw the bricks and smashed my windows."

The detective clapped his hat on his head and surveyed the people in the kitchen. He put out his hand as though about to take Benno by the arm but dropped it again and shook his head. "If I find Billy Summers will you be able to identify him, or will your memory play up with you again?"

He turned to Benno. "You'll keep, Murphy. There's no way a man like you can stay out of trouble and I'll be watching and waiting. Don't you laugh up your sleeve at me; my turn will come sooner than you think. As for the rest of you," he said looking at them, "playing games with the law is a dangerous thing to do and, somehow, you're all in it together. Just make sure the game doesn't end badly."

They heard his footsteps receding up the passage and the noise of the glass doors opening and closing.

O'Hanlon went outside to make sure the man was gone. He came back and nodded so that everyone burst out laughing except for Mr Gladman who was still agitated after his encounter with the law. Gabriel and Timothy patted him on the back while O'Hanlon ran to the bar to bring back an armful of bottles which he cheerfully set out on the table in full view.

"Thanks Boss," said Benno who had instantly forgotten his recent fright. "I knew you wouldn't drop me into the law; I won't forget that and if anyone tries to break your windows again just give us a whistle; me and the boys'll stoush 'em for you."

Mr Gladman needed a soothing drink. He was trembling from the reaction of all that had happened during the day. Now he was aware of having departed so far from the paths of rectitude he had followed all his adult life, that there could be no turning back. To have defied his wife and deliberately lied to a policeman, all on the one day, was extraordinary; he did not know how he could have brought himself to do such acts but his denial of the truth slipped out when he had the figure of the defeated Benno before him.

Mr Gladman was the hero of the occasion, Benno, Timothy, and O'Hanlon were ready to drink his health and keep on doing it as long as the supply lasted.

Gabriel, Amy, and Sir Thomas were prepared to drink his health once and then leave. Amy insisted on lemonade.

On the way home Amy was ecstatic. ''I knew it''s she said. ''Wait till I tell mother that I was nearly arrested for being a minor on licensed premises.

"You'd better not,'' said Gabriel ''She'll take that story very seriously, and she might ask Mrs Byers to bar Sir Thomas and me from the house because we're leading you into danger.I know she'd be happy to be rid of me.''

''She won't do it for long. If you can't come to visit I'll threaten to move in with you before we're married. That should bring her round.''

''I can see you are going to have a long and happy marriage,'' said Sir Thomas ''Providing Gabriel does what he's told.''

''Exactly!'' Said Amy.

 

{ 38 }

Prayers for Mr Gladman

Three days later James Pryor wandered into the office and sat down heavily at his desk. He blew between his lips, fanned himself with his top hat and watched Gabriel going through papers which had been left by the clerks to be dealt with after Christmas.

"I've had a rough Christmas," said Mr Pryor. "I didn't mean to come into the office but I had to get away for a while."

Gabriel left the clerks and came into the inner office, shutting the door. "Is it the Flanagans?"

Mr Pryor nodded. "Yes, mother is still there, but she can't wait until Christmas is well over and she can go home again. Did you know Tim and Henry flew the coop? It was bloody annoying to lose Tim like that. I was hoping to spend Christmas talking to him about investments."

"Yes, I know where they are, but don't tell Mrs F.''

James Pryor raised his eyebrows. "I wouldn't tell her if her if her bum was on fire. Well, it's only a day or two more. If mother has to put up with them I suppose I have to too. She doesn't thank me for taking her on the visit, but it has been valuable in its way, even if I couldn't talk business. I won't be back next year, and if I ever see Myrtle and her mother again it will be too soon."

The clerk interrupted by bringing him a letter from the morning mail. Pryor read it. "Ha, ha! The boys have had a whip round over Christmas; they have raised two hundred and fifty quid. Listen to this --." He read from the letter.

'I am pleased to inform you that the gentlemen you met the other day have formed themselves into a committee and authorized me to offer you the support of the said committee if you will consent to stand in the conservative interests for the Victorian Parliament at the forthcoming election. After full consideration of your character and reputation we are of the opinion that you would be an excellent representative of the business community of the City of Melbourne and to that end we are prepared to furnish you with the sum of £250 towards your necessary expenses. Furthermore we undertake to put your name forward in the appropriate quarters for consideration for advancement to high office in the Government to be formed in Victoria after the defeat of the Berry Ministry. We await your favourable reply, Yours etc.' "and it is signed by Briggs."

"That's not bad; you'll be able to run a decent campaign for parliament."

"They're playing games," retorted Pryor. "I'll send a note back saying I thought they were serious about having me in parliament. They can hand over five hundred quid in banknotes or look for someone else. I'm not going anywhere on the cheap -- they can just forget about it."

He was interrupted by the voice of the chief clerk ordering someone from the premises. His orders to leave were punctuated by the sound of a cheeky individual refusing to go.      

It was the sweeping boy from the crossing who ignored Mr Pringle's repeated orders to leave the office at once. He caught sight of Gabriel and James Pryor looking at him through the doorway and addressed Pryor, "gotta message for yer. The cove round the corner told me ter tell yer it was urgent."

"Allright, what's the message?"

"Yer gotta give me frippence first. The cove said y'd give me frippence."

''No he didn’t. You're not getting threepence out of me. Here's a brownie, catch!" He flipped a penny to the boy who caught it deftly. "If the message is any good I might give you another; if not you can just clear off."

The urchin shrugged and clutched his penny tightly in the depths of his pocket lest it should be demanded back again. "It's the cove in the music shop, 'e's lorst 'is beard some'ow and now they're all in the music shop a prayin' for 'is, soul and 'e said you're to come at once."

"I wouldn't know what the hell is going on," said Mr Pryor, "but it sounds interesting. Do you think that's worth another penny?" Gabriel nodded and he flicked a second coin to the messenger who caught it one handed and dashed out into Swanston Street after ensuring there were no more coins to be got from the same source.

They took their hats and walked together to the music shop while Gabriel astonished and delighted his friend by recounting Mr Gladman's adventures over the past few days. He was most envious at hearing all this. Gabriel had been living in the midst of drama while he had spent a dull Christmas taking great care not to say one word to Myrtle that could be construed by even the most eager listeners as a portent of matrimonial intentions.

The hoardings had been taken down from the front of the music shop already, a good sign, for Mr Gladman himself must have made arrangements for their removal.

The shop appeared to be full and several people who could not enter were kneeling uncomfortably on the footpath, attentive to what was going on within. Others, apparently just passing by, had stopped in astonishment to watch.

Not deterred by all this Mr Pryor pushed his way into the shop drawing Gabriel after him, while people made way for his progress and rose to their feet from where they had been kneeling. When Gabriel looked round he realized it was an assemblage of the Faithful Brethren who had been summoned to rescue Mr Gladman from folly.

He could find nothing gross about the appearance of these people but they might have been a group assembled by Edmunds, the theatrical agent, if he had been commissioned to collect a cast of supporting actors in a play about misfits of society.

They had all been listening to Elder Muirhead whose subject was Mr Gladman. That gentleman was sitting with his back to the office, arms folded, etermined not to yield to the eloquence of the speaker. Gabriel saw Mrs Gladman, a bony woman with a pinched face. She must have come out in a hurry the bun at the back of her head though fixed with at least two pins was tending to unravel as she became more agitated. Her raffia hat, also pinned on, could have been set at a more becoming angle.

Elder Muirhead paused in his oration when the newcomers came into the shop and eyed them severely. "You are here to further the work of your master, the Devil, no doubt," he stated loudly for the benefit of the listeners. "We were about to pray for our dear Brother Gladman even as you entered because you have turned him out of the paths of righteousness unto the way of destruction."

More people entered. Among them were Amy and Sir Thomas. She waved to Gabriel.

''You see!'' cried the Elder. ''More of the faithful are coming to help our dear brother being brought back to the paths of the godly

"He's on the right path already," retorted Pryor, "I have sold him a first class property that will keep him and his wife in comfort when it's time to retire from business. Any of you ladies and gentlemen want a nice investment property our office is at your service, but don't expect to get a bargain like Mr Gladman's every day. Though I would urge you all to buy real estate before prices go up again; finance is no problem, we can arrange all that through the London and Melbourne Amicable Building Society at a very reasonable rate of interest."

Elder Muirhead drew himself to his full height on hearing this reply and a few groans resounded from the rear of the shop, though not emanating from Mr Gladman. The Elder shook his head as though to express more sorrow than anger. "We cannot permit our erring brother to fall away from the congregation in this manner. He has been most generous in his contributions to our work of battling the Romish influences that threaten the spiritual well-being of this colony. Without him we can maintain one preacher the less and our great dream of sending a missionary to India to convert the heathen Hindoos must come to naught.

"Well, that's something in his favour," retorted Pryor "He's better off here in Melbourne looking after his future than paying for people to annoy the Hindoos."

At these words loud groans broke out from the congregation; it seemed their habit to express their feelings loudly during a service, and a preacher would be encouraged or otherwise by the noise proceeding from his audience.

Before Elder Muirhead could make his retort Mrs Gladman swayed forward and pointed at Pryor. "Oh! Oh!" she cried. "That the Devil should walk into my husband's shop and say the words of damnation. He has stolen his beard, he has stolen his faith, he has stolen him away from his righteous home. What is to become of me?"

James Pryor turned to Gabriel and raised his eyebrows. Gabriel mouthed silently, "Mrs Gladman," his friend turned back to face her.

Gabriel noted that Mrs Goss was present. She had a duster in her hand but was making no attempt to use it. Instead she gazed with interest and delight at the various actors in the drama as they argued. Gabriel winked at her and she put her hands over her mouth to make sure she did not speak and draw attention to her presence.

"Don't you worry about a thing, Mrs Gladman" said the agent. "This is a nice, profitable business your husband has here, and it will be even better when he moves to Collins Street. It has kept you and the Brethren all these years; they might miss out in the future but I am sure Mr Gladman will be most generous with you. Am I right, Mr Gladman?"

Thus addressed the agitated man rose to his feet clutched at a phantom beard. "I don't want them in the shop," he said. "They must all leave and let me get on with my business. Mrs Gladman may stay, if she wishes, but I will hear no more of this nonsense; she will have to behave herself or go home. I will pay the rent on the house and send her money every week, but if she wants to give any of it to the Brethren that's up to her, they will not get any more from me."

Everyone was aghast at these words except for Mrs Goss and the proprietor's few supporters.

"George Gladman, George Gladman," wailed his wife, "Have you forgotten the hours and years I spent wrestling with the devil in you? How I gradually weaned you from the sins of the flesh?

"Yes," he retorted, cutting her short. "I remember them very well, every miserable year. My new life started when you turned me out of the house; at least I am grateful to you for that, thank you."

She wrung her hands and appealed to the onlookers. "Can I leave this poor, weak man here in the City of Destruction, in the very heart of Vanity Fair. Who will protect him from the snares of the enchanters?" she uttered, looking pointedly at Pryor and Gabriel. "What will befall if I am not here to pray with him and point him in the way he should go."

It occurred to Gabriel that she had had ample time in the past to point him in the right direction, such as it was. If she had not succeeded it was probably too late now.

Elder Muirhead loudly cleared his throat it seemed he was prepared to renew his prayers and exhortations to reach the heart of the obdurate backslider; perhaps he would be one of the preachers short of a job if Mr Gladman fell away from the faith of the Brethren.

"Brothers and Sisters," he cried, "if any of you up to now doubted the power of sin in this wicked world your eyes must surely have been opened by the events of the past few days. We ourselves have seen the agents of the Devil walking abroad in Bourke Street, snatching our dear brother from his loving wife, counselling him to shave off his beard, luring him into a Presbyterian Church, causing him to renounce his faith, and finally, casting him into one of the worst dens of evil known in this wicked city. Can any doubt that I refer to that haunt of Catholics and low class working people, O'Hanlon's hotel."

Everyone groaned at this point in his discourse but Gabriel could only admire the intelligence gathering network of the Brethren; to have collected this much information in so short a time, it was astonishing.

Mr Pryor was not astonished but was growing impatient. To be cast in the role of the devil when it was Gabriel, not him, who had brought the bad news to the Gladman household, was a little too much, even for his good temper.

Gladman stood up and paced the floor in the little space available; it was there because the Brethren shrank from him as he paced to and fro.

Mr Pryor stepped up on to his chair and held up his hands for silence in a manner Gabriel had seen before. "My friends," he announced, "brethren all, I must inform you that Mr Gladman appointed me and Mr Fox recently as his business agents. As his agent I advise you he cannot conduct his business while a prayer meeting is in progress in his shop; his customers would not understand, nor would they like it. I have his authority to tell you to leave. Everyone must go except, perhaps Mrs Gladman, but that is up to her. I must ask you to leave now in an orderly manner with no further shouting or groaning; if not I will use my delegated authority to call the police and have the shop cleared." He held up his hand again to Elder Muirhead. "No Sir, not another word. You have made your feelings clear to Mr Gladman and no doubt he will consider them in due course."

The Brethren looked to Elder Muirhead for guidance doubtful as to whether they should stay on the premises until Mr Gladman came to his senses or depart and leave the devil in possession. "We have done what we could," cried the Elder. "We have wrestled with temptation and perhaps we have planted a mustard seed of repentance in our dear brother's heart. May it grow into a mighty plant of faith to lead him back to us. Remember my beloved friends when the time comes we shall welcome him with joy and songs of triumph, until then we shall not give way to despair. This has been a set back, not a defeat; we shall walk from the shop with our heads up singing of our triumph." True to his word be burst into a raucous hymn in which everyone joined and they gradually filed after him out of the shop.

They would have gathered on the pavement outside to pray and sing some more but the police, who had been interested spectators, moved them on. As soon as the Brethren left, Mrs Goss, in a state of suppressed excitement, continued dusting, but not too far away. She did not wish to miss one word of the conversation. Mrs Gladman was there too, but standing forlornly and looking at her husband.

"You alright now, George?" enquired Mr Pryor. "Mrs Goss is here and she'll help you look after the place. We have to go, there are things we have to do before the new year, but if you want us just send word round to the office."

"Yes, I need your help now. I was not honest with Mr Jones on Christmas Day. I don't know what came over me, but whatever Murphy's faults may be I didn't want to be responsible for sending him to gaol, especially at Christmas time. He broke my windows, I know that, I saw him do it, but it was the starting point that changed my life. That Memsworth man would have cheated me anyway, but everything else would have been different. I might still have been in thrall to the Brethren. I don't want to go to the police office after lying to Mr Jones like that, I couldn't look him the face and talk about other things. Would you and Mr Fox deal with it for me? Mr Fox can identify the instruments; he was there when they were sold."

Mr Pryor raised his eyebrows. "This may take some time, and we are very busy at the office right now."

"Well, last week you mentioned a fee for your services. I was angry at the time and would have abjured it if I could, but I have thought it over, like so many other things, and if you will do this for me I will ask you to add your costs, in time and so on, to the fee."

Mr Pryor nodded graciously. "Of course, our resources at your disposal at all times. Mr Fox and I will attend to the matter for you; don't give it another thought. We will make sure that all the instruments are returned, all we need is a copy of the invoice so they can be identified with the help of the police."

At the mention of the lost instruments Mrs Gladman reminded them of her presence by falling once more to her knees and groaning. "Better to lose them than your soul, George Gladman," she cried. "Come home! Come home with me and we will wrestle together with the demons from the pit."

"Oh, stand up," retorted her husband irritably, lifting her to her feet. "I won't have you carrying on like this in the shop, it's bad enough in private. Mrs Goss, go out and call a cab. I will send her back home."

Not wishing to be absent for long lest she miss something Mrs Goss hurried outside. She would have run to complete her mission but all her ladylike training in deportment prevented any such action. She hastened out leaving the door swinging behind her.

"Don't be afraid, Miriam," said Mr Gladman encouragingly. "I will send you money each week to pay the rent and to live on. I would give you more but if I send too much you will give it to the Brethren. I may start a little fund for when you ever really need money."

Mr Pryor nodded approvingly at this. "Quite right, very prudent if I might say so. I can recommend an excellent investment fund returning a good rate of interest."

"But I don't want the money," she cried, "I want to save you."

"I will escort Mrs Gladman out to wait for the cab," said Mr Pryor, grandly offering his arm. "There is no need to discuss financial matters in front of a lady. I can advise you later on of the most prudent means of disposing of surplus cash."

Mrs Gladman shrank back from his proffered arm; no doubt it smelled of brimstone, straight from the pit. "No, I want my poor, misguided husband. Release him; let him come home where he belongs. I can take care of him and nurse his wounded spirit."

"I am not coming home, except to get my clothes," was the reply. "From next month I will be living over the shop in Collins Street and for the time being O'Hanlon's Hotel will be quite good enough for me. I will ask Mr Fox to come too when I pick up my clothes and shaving gear. You must understand, Miriam, when you put me out of the house it was for good and all, even though you may not have meant it that way."

"I was concerned for your soul. Could I see my husband walk into great danger and not call out a warning?"

"Perhaps so, but I will pay the cabman and send you home. You can stay there or go out, whichever you please. But don't bring those people round here again; I won't have it. I will call the police and have the shop cleared."

Mrs Goss returned to announce that a cab was waiting at the gutter.

"Come Miriam," said Mr Gladman more kindly. "I will take you out myself." He led Mrs Gladman, sobbing, out through the front door and handed her up into the cab.

He shook his head as the cab horse clopped away and the vehicle turned the corner. "She was a kindly woman once; I suppose she is still a good woman by her lights."

The others turned to one another. ''That's one little drama we didn't miss,'' said Sir Thomas. ''Well done James. I'll know who to call on when they start praying for me.''

''That's not all I've done,'' said Mr Pryor "Henry's right! You remember Gabby, asking me to talk to his ma. It took a lot of persuading, especially after Tim cleared out because she wasn't going to do him any favours, but she came round after a while. I must say she's still not happy about it but she won't make too much trouble if he's apprenticed to an engineer or a builder. She didn't want to upset me, at least not yet, so you had better tell Tim to get the indentures made out, paid for and signed, while I am still in her good books.

After mother comes home she and Myrtle are going to find it pretty hard to get hold of me. You know, at one time I thought of marrying Myrtle to get a lever on the old man's money, but some sacrifices are just too great. I think I'll wait until someone like Amy comes along."

''I'm here,'' said Amy, ''Together with The Ancient Mariner himself, the one with a mixed bag of letters after his name

''I am trying to teach this young woman good manners and kindness towards aged, and respectable persons, such as myself','' said Sir Thomas. ''But I have had little success so far.

Amy stepped forward and kissed Gabriel.

''There, you see, kissing young men in public when her mother told her not to. She doesn't kiss me.

''I hate silly old men with beards.''

''I don't have a beard.''

''Just as well, if you had a beard I would hate you even more than I do now.      

''Sir Thomas gave up and looked at his watch. ''It's lunchtime. Gabriel, and you Pryor, are you free for lunch? You can come and protect me from this young woman. Before we go there is one thing I must say to Gabriel. ''After you marry this young lady you will not win an argument ever again. At least not with her.''

''Quite right,'' said Amy. If he is a good, obedient boy, and follows my advice at all times, he will do very well. Now, lunch.''

'

{ 39 }

The campaign commences.

The glaziers came out straight after the new year and installed new panes of glass in the display windows to replace those smashed by Benno.

Mr Gladman had learned something from his ordeal for now there were signs on the shop, large ones, announcing a grand sale of musical instruments due to an imminent move to new premises in Collins Street

While the detective was looking for him Benno had gone to his friend Wocka's place by Wocka's invitation. Everyone knew him as Wocka, and were not aware of any other name.       Mrs Wocka was outraged at the foolishness of offering Benno sanctuary on any terms, but decided he could stay for a short while, a very short while.

She was wary of having Benno anywhere near her husband; he was easily led astray and Benno was just the man to do it. After they made a late and noisy return from an unauthorised visit to the pub next evening she assaulted them both with a frying pan, then locked Wocka in and locked Benno out. It was after this incident, when he had nowhere to go, that Benno was arrested by Detective Jones while wandering around the city.

Since his escape from the law Gabriel had heard little of him. Several ships arrived in port and he and his mates worked long hours loading and unloading cargo, with little time for getting into trouble.

Gabriel was now doing all the work of managing the agency while his partner campaigned to win a seat in Parliament.

Running for parliament was arduous work and called for long hours of attendance at various hotels in the city; much backslapping and standing rounds of drinks. Financially this was not a problem.

The committee, after some hesitation and indignation, raised their offer of assistance to £400 and, with a matching show of hesitation and indignation on his part, Mr Pryor at last accepted the money and confided to Gabriel that he would have taken £350. He discovered later, to his regret, that the committee would have gone to £450. Still, £400 was a generous amount with which to fight the campaign. Charles Edmunds, the theatrical agent, was his partner in this batle.

Edmunds was a self proclaimed genius in the design of theatre posters. He asserted frequently that his posters would drag crowds into any theatre, no matter what the quality of the show.

He set to with enthusiasm and soon after bill posters were hard at work everywhere pasting up the results of his genius on every vacant wall and tenement where there was the least bit of space. All over town were to be seen highly coloured portraits of James Pryor and Edmunds with their names in florid lettering underneath and exhortations to vote for them at the forthcoming Victorian elections.

The same or similar messages were carried round the streets by shambling sandwich men. The last attempt to convey a message by these means had been too ambitious, or so everyone agreed, because they had to rely on the sandwich men being able to read and stay in their