"ARCADES AMBO."

Press, Volume LXII, Issue 12129, 27 February 1905, Page 4

"ARCADES AMBO."

Br M. A. BoTHßßrou>. Of all steady going, respectable city men John Pindar, the senior partner of tho well-known firm of Pindar, Lassus and Co. was tho steadiest and the most respectable. In -his business capacity he was- shrewd, hardworking, and as straight as a die. In his private life -he was an affectionate husband, a good father, and a reliablo friend. One solitary cloud dimmed hia • happiness, and that was the irrepressible ambition of his wife to shine in a higher sphere than ,thb.middle class ,orio in .which -they, were (V borh: Qld Pindar himself had no such, leaning. had amassed sufficient wealth to enable him to live in the unpretentions' comfort to which he was v accustomed, and had contracted just enough love of money to- mako any unnecessary expenditure extremely distasteful to him. Consequently in tho Pindar family as in many others where the father is the working and the rest of , the household the spending members, the financial question was a fruitful source of friction. For some time past Mrs Pindar had persistently urged her husband to assume a more pretentions style of living. By dint of nagging she had won many little concessions—a larger house, a boy in buttons, a single-horsed brougham— but theso were only the advance guard of- all sho meant to obtain. Of course, old Pindar had grumbled, but the lady had wisely turned a deaf ear to his wrath, and in time the storm had spent itself in harmless blusterings, for with all his penuriousneas -dohn Pindar was a good-tempered old bear, and much more in the hands of his bettor half than he had any suspicion of. Lately a culminating point had come to Mrs Pindar's/ demands. She had calmly proffered a request for a diamond -parure such as her friend Lady Fitzwalton Hopkins, the ex-lady mayoress was resplendent in. In vain had her husband pointed out the absurdity /of her demand, that business was depressed, and tho income .tax increasing. Mrs Pindar proved inexorable. Diamonds to her were a patent, of nobility-r-conimercial nobility, of course—-but her aspirations knew no other, and diamonds she meant to have. In consequence, nn absorbing gloom had fallen on the usually chirpy spirit of the senior partner. Experience had taught him the inoritableness .of ultimate defeat whenever his will differed from his wife's. He had no idea oftho cost of diamonds, never hitherto had he indulged in such luxuries, and as yet had not even inquired. But to tie up any considerable part of his hardlyearned wealth in such baubles appeared to him hardly less than sacrilegious. The more he contemplated the prospect the less he liked it. There was risk in every.inch of it. Every ingenious robbery he had ever heard of re-ap- j peared, alive, before his mental vision. Not for the firs* timo in his lifo he told himself that bis wife was unreasonable, and must be brought up with a round turn, or if that were a feat beyond his strength and skill he must buy off her claim by a concession—say a ring ; a bracelet or a brooch. .He must remind her that he was no longer a young man. His health might go any day, indeed be had noticed some very alarming symptoms of late. His appetite, too, had certainly fallen off. If this category of woes would not divert her from her evil designs he. would remind her that.she herself had often hinted at the probability of an engagement between her daughter Helena aiid young Fitswalton Hopkins: That event would mean a trousseau and a wedding. Sorely even Mrs Pindar's extravagance would Be checked by the prospect of such expenditure. With all these thoughts surging' in his brain old Pindar picked his way. slowly down Cannon street one December afternoon. A touch of frost was in the air, and a faint fog- settling down on the chimney tops made the prospect of a- short walk before ■[ boarding his omnibus desirable. He had proceeded for some little distance when he halted at the edge of the pavement to light the one Havana he allowed himself-be-fore dinner. The fragrant whiff that followed brought him the first relief he had had from the trouble which-had haunted-him all ,*ay. .'->■ He was proceeding on his way when a light touch on his coat sleeve made him look round. A shabby, unshaven man, a typical London loafer, with

boot* in holes, ragged eo_Jb and brinkes hat; hungry ar^^isTCpuUble, } stood by his elbow holding out in hifl grimy palm a-large; and very brilliant single atone diamond ring. fa : ;fa; y .',;. ' t fa: .-.■■. .■■ fa•■'n» said, in the hoarse, which is jso characiteriatio of'the London street ruffian. ':*••■•.-fa 'fa-fa-fafa -fafa Mr Pindar never wore* rings, not having any taste that way, still human nature being* what it is, he hesitated be* fore replying in the: negative to the tramp's question, and it was with obvious reluctance that he said, "No. It's not mine. Where did you find itP" "Just 'ere, sir," answered the man, pointing to -the pavement where a stream of passing foet was churning the mud into still thicker slime. "I seed it just as'you lit up. Not a minute agone. Thought it must be yourn." Had it been any other jewel that lay sparklipg in the loafer's blackened palm, old Pindar would probably hare passed on, and in a short time forgotten the incident, but as luck would have it, just at the moment, diamonds and his wife's preposterous behest occupied so prominent a position in his thoughts, that tho ring with its scintillating stone seemed to mesmerise him. "Lot mc have a look at it if you don't mind," he said. Without, tho smallest show of hesitation the vagrant passed it to him. "Do you think it a good 'un guvnor," he queried, hoarsely. "It's 'eavy enough, but blowed if I can tell." Mr Pindar weighed it in his hand judicially. "Nor can I," ho said. "The stone may he false, but I think the setting is gold." A gleam of satisfaction lighted up the man's furtive eye. "Well, that's a bit of blooming luck for mc," he croaked. "You wouldn't like to buy it from mc, guvnor P" "Buy it"? Certainly not. You ought to take it to tho police." "Tike it to the perliceP Ketch mc I I'd jolly well like to see myself going near tho perlice. Happen they'd say as how I'd prigged it, and run mc in. No thank you, guvnor. I ain't 6uch a green 'un as all that. I'm" a pore man, earning an honest living,-and, I don't want no truck with the coppers. I'll hook it down to a pal as I knows on. I dussay he'll givo mc a quid, or perhaps ten bob for it. Thank you kindly all the same, mister." But old Pindar had tasted blood, and. was not to be choked off so easily. Tho first maddening charm of obtaining a veritable bargain had thrilled him. He temporised. 'Stay, niy man. Don't bo in such a hurry. If yon don't like to'trust mc, I'll tako it to a jeweller's shop. There's one close by whore I am known and where they will tell mc whether it is a real, stone, and, if it is, what is its value. It mayn't bo worth anything at all." "Trust you P Course I does, guvnor. I knows an honest gen'lman's face when I sees it. If the ring's al good 'un it must be worth a tidyish bit, but wot's the good of a thing lute mat to mc? | I'd sell it to anyone for a fiver, that I would. But, Lor' bless you, guvnor, i there ain't no chance of my getting anything like that for it. I'll be blooming lucky if the bloke I knows on gives mc a quid* and I a pore man with a wife and kids at 'bme." fa In this self-commiserating strain the whining */oice ran on until the jeweller's shop was reached. At the door the ring again changed hands and Mr Pindar entered, the loafer remaining without—a too familiar example of pauperism to excite attention. ■•-' A quarter of an hour or so before Mr Pindar emerged. The gleam of a mighty resolve showed his eye. He walked erect and spoke with more dcision. . "Here is your ring." he said,-return-ing the trinket to the Vagrant. "If you will follow mc to my office I will, tell you what the jeweller said."- fafa In a few minutes they were back at Pindar, Lassus and Co.'s offices:. Most of tho clerks had left, and the; senior partner had no difficulty in slipping into his private j-oom-unobserved, the loafer* following.' •-• ( Tho touch of •■» ■ button flooded>.the. room with lght. Strangely enough Jth* brilliant radiance far from emphasising seemed to lessen the difference between the two men; a sort of indescribable resemblance was revealed which certainly had not been noticeable in the comparative " darkness of the street without. The honest, upright expression habitual to the merchant had gone'and a cunning look similar in kind if nob in degree to that of the tramp,had replaced it.. His very voice had altered, his tone was thick> his utterance hurried, -fa- •'.'.'fa ' ■ „"•! fa-. "I will be hopest with'you," he said. ."The jeweller tells mc that; your ring is genuine. It is a diamond of the first water, a most valuable stone worth about.£loo.- If you care,to take it to the police—why, of course, you can. Tho most you. can hope for w a small reward from the owner. But from the look of you I don't fancy you particularly want to have dealings with the*police, and therefore, rather than that you should be defrauded of the value of your lucky t find, as -you certainly would be if you go to the fence you alluded to, I will make you a bid. You can" take it or leave, it. The ring is worth £100 more orttss. I wilt give* you £25. What do you say t" For a moment tho tramp seemed unable to speak- Then with a palpable effort he gasped out: "You ain't getting at mc gurnor. This am t a trap to catch a bloke.y Is is all fair and square? Do you mean itP" ' fa. : "Every word,? said ,Mr Pindar, oagerly. '1 am playing square, whatever you aro.». If you'll agree I'll plank the money down. You'll give mo the ring, I'll give y oil. the money. The thing will be donetimd nobody will be a bit the wiser." "In soys?" ■ " ' "Yes—in gold." "Then take the darned ring jtnd give mo the oof." Without another word the bargain was concluded and the diamond and the money changed ownere. With a husky word of thanks the derelict'of society, drifted back into that vast human ocean called London, and disappeared into its I murky depths as swiftly and completely ias a drop of rain is swallowed up in the sea which gave it birth. "Ah! About this ring, Mr Melwood —the one I brought to yon for valuation yesterday. I have bought it from my friend, but shall- be glad fo have it re-set. As you remarked, trie present setting is rather old-fashioned. I thought of giving it as a present to my wife." Mr Melwood took the ring and put a glass to his> eye. -\ "Excuse mc, sir," he said, .**this is not the ring you showed mc; yesterday." "I assure you it is." •;.'"•' "And I am quite certain it is not. That had a,remarkably fine stone: £300 I think was the rough estimate I gave j you, and the diamond was worth every penny of it. This is nothing more, than an exoellent imitation.'- ~"■"'•:■"' So -Mrs PindaiV' olaim was never bought off with*, ring. On the contrary, the "got: the wbola parure she had clamoured for," and'that, too, without any struggle. And they were fine diamonds too—l have been told-they cost £3000—and that Mr Pindar looks on the sum expended as conscience money, forviis one and only lapse from the paths of virtue.

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