[Ninth Prize.] A Crucial Test.

Otago Witness, Issue 2387, 30 November 1899, Page 45 (Supplement)

[Ninth Prize.] A Crucial Test.

[BY RIZPES.]

(Otiiyo Daily Times and Witness Chrixtmax Annual IS9U Prize Tale Competition.) HE lamps were all aglow one Caristmas Eve not many years ago in the city of Dutiedin.' The town in question was looking her very best on that night. The clear, blue canopy of heaven was studded with myriads of

stars, apparently striving to outshine the brilliant gaslight on the earth below. There was no electric lighting then. Notwithstanding it was past 10 o'clock, thd streets were still thronged with people of all ages. Santa Claus's proteges, the happy children, were in swarms making tbeir last purchases. Purses had emptied, and memory had conjured up one forgotten little friend who should have had a toy.

"We can't help it, Elsie.* I haven't a penny left, my child. We must remember her on New Year's Eve instead."

This I heard from the lips of a passer-

Dolls, small and large, gazed at one from crystal panes with most beseechingly blue eyes and outstretched arms. Bachelor uncles and old-maid aunts were irresistibly reminded of little " Bessies," " Daisies," and "Veras " waiting at home, on the tiptoe of excitement, for that most beloved of saints — Santa Olaus! What though for eleven months of every year they looked on their little nieces aijd nephews as " spoilt brats " and " dratted little nuisances," for to-night at least they were wrapped with the halo of heaven. The spirit of the Christ-child enveloped, and always does envelope, us somehow at this season. Oh ! it is a grand time for ■ the children. Trying for the mothers, whose slender purses are altogether out of proportion to the large desires and generous impulses of a large family ; sad, unutterably sad, for the homeless and forsaken who have naught to live on, save memories. Pedestrians jostled one another, parcel-laden, but jostlings on a Christmas Eve do not perturb one as they do on an ordinary evening. There were two or three ragged boys pressing their noses and dirty little paws against a pastrycook's window. Relentless " Bobby," as a matter of habit, growled : " Move on now ! Move along, do ! " But the words were no sooner uttered than he dived into his pocket, produced some coppers and laid a hand on the shoulder of each child, to their momentary terror, observing : "Go and have a ' tuck in,' my lads ; and don't say I never shouted for you now. Here, you, young ' Mahogany-top,' you mustn't be left out in the cold, but, mind, don't let me catch you at it again, that's all."

The " guardian of the peace " had tacked on the latter half of the sentence to meet the ears of a brother officer, who suddenly approached. He wouldn't for the world his comrade should know how weak he had been !

The boys slid away like eels, and came out in two minutes devouring hot pies. " The beggars can always find mont. for their stomachs," growled Bobby No. 1 to put Bobby No. 2 off the scent.

" Why, I thought I seed yer givin' them the rhino?"

" Do I look the sort of chap to waste my money, now?".

" Well, you don't look it ; and that's a fact."

The first bobby appeared flattered,

Among the men hurrying on, you could scarcely have failed to notice one of distinguished bearing, apparently in the prime of life. " Success " was stamped on his brow, as well as on his attire, and his gait was that of a man .thoroughly satisfied with himself and his surroundings. With a measured, firm tread, he turned into the principal jeweller's shop to purchase a watch.

" I want a good one, Mr White. It is for the boy's birthday."

" Your only son, is he not, sir? How old is the little fellow?"

" Roy is just seven, and as mischievous as they make 'em."

" There's health in mischief," returned the jeweller, sadly. " There's my boy, now, just the age of yours. If I could but see him do a bit of mischief I'd go down on my knees this minute and thank God. My boy is a cripple. He is next door to a saint. But to-night, when I see the strong children running by, why "

' Another customer's entry stemmed the poor jeweller's eloquence, and as the purchase of the watch was completed, Mr Meredith took his way in the direction of Ravensbourne.

A man out at elbows and down at heel brushed past him. Uttering a brief apology, he looked up, and a gleam of surprise lib his eye.

" Why — yes, I believe I'm right ! - You are Charles Meredith?"

" I am. You have the advantage of me, though," replied the other, curtly. " Then you don't recollect your old college chum?" " Why — you — yes, it positively is Herbert Matthews. You are altered, Bert ! "

" The world has used me none too well, my boy." "How is that?" The " successful " man rarely understands a failure in another.

" Oh, impossible to say. I have had a dose of ill-luck, and you apparently a dose of good luck. Dame Fortune is apt to be partial, my boy. She is reckless in bestowing her bounties on some, ignoring others altogether."

" I've not much to complain of, I suppose," remarked Mr Meredith, meditatively, " but, understand, I've worked hard for what I've acquired; and I know how to take care of my money."

" You always did, Charles. No one ever accused you of being any fool in the matter of parting with your money. Now, with me it was different." " You had far better chances than I ten years ago, Bert ; but you are, as you state "

"A fool — yes."

"Nay, hear me out — too generous, I waa about to add. Let me see, Bert, we met last on the goldfields ten, or is it eleven, years ago? Since then I married. My wife died a year later, leaving me a legacy in the shipe of a boy — a regular young scaramooch. You must see the boy, Bert." He uttered the words proudly, eagerly, but they were no sooner spoken than he glanced half-ruefully at his friend's ragged coat. Possibly there entered into the mind of the 1 moneyed man a fear lest some favour micht be asked of him, for he knitted his brow, hesitating before extending a special invitation.

" Are you making a long stay in Dunedin, Matthews?"

"It depends. I'm a mere shuttlecock of fortune at present."'

" Well, come and see us soon. We live at Ravensbourne, my little son and I. Inquire at 's store, and you'll have no difficulty in finding our diggings. I must make tracks now. You see, it is Christmas Eve, and Roy is sitting up. I have to be mother and father in one to him, Bert. This is the great ' stocking ' night, remember."

The " fool's " face was gazing at the stars. A tender light filled his eyes, as his hand dived into his pocket.

"Here's a rummy little trinket. I tried to raise a bob on it this morning. It's too old-fashioned, they tell me, for this age. The little chap" will like it. Put it in his stocking, Charlie." "Do you me.an to say, Bert, you were trying to raise a shilling this morning?" " I'm not the only man in that plight. I must say ' ta-ta,' old fellow. Let me wish you a Happy Christmas." "Same to you, old man." The one addressed turned on the speaker as though he had been struck.

"No need to mock a fellow, Meredith. For God's sake, desist from empty wishes for me. A man sleeping in an outhouse, without, literally, a penny to call his own, can't be expected to have a jolly time of it. However, a better man than I am was supposed to be born in a stable on this night. So long!" He was off like a dart. Aleredith tried to overtake him, but in vain.

" Impulsive as ever," he muttered. "He didn't give me a chance to assist him. Perhaps if I had given him a sovereign, he would only have wasted it. But sleeping in an outhouse ! He, the smartest man at Magdalen ! He saved my life, too. However, I must trudge along now. I wonder if he'll try to find me out? I wish he was not reduced to such a low ebb, though. For decency's sake, I must do something for him, if only to pay his fare to Christchurch."

Thinking these and similar thoughts, he rreached his home. Roy had fallen asleep in the armchair. The little chubby form lay curled up like a ball. He had positively refused to go to bed, believing Santa Claus s first visit was always to the dining room. " It's the room with the biggest chimney, dad. He is sure to come this way," said the child, rubbing his eyes as Mr Meredith entered. "He couldn't posserbly' come down the bedroom chimney without squeezing and breaking everything," added this child of Solon.

He was, at last, prevailed upon to go to bed, on the understanding that two large stockings were to be left suspended from the dining room mantelpiece till he claimed them next morning. Roy fell off to sleep, observing solemnly just as his eyes were closing : "I'se been looking at all the chimbleys, and I know for sure and certain we've r.nly got one big enough for him, but it's a shame we didn't get the sweep — a f/r<vifc shame. His white beard will be black with soot."

Mr Meredith, left alone, listened to the waits, and indulged in a glass of (coloured) water to the tune of his own reflections.

"To think of old Bert turning up! What a foolish fellow he must have been to run through his money like that ! I suppose I shall have to give him a lift to another town to try his luck elsewhere. It's a blessed nuisance one's friends trooping round expecting assistance. True, I'm ' well in,' bat then I've used instead of abused, my chances like he has. It has been my object to put by a fortune for the little chap. It's a man's duty to look after his own. own. Of course, if he comes, I'm bound to give him a lift. Perhaps he won't come now. Mercy, how he fired up when I wished him a Merry Christmas. It was thoughtless, I admit; but one can't realise the fact of one's friend coming down to sleeping in a stable." Aye ! the waits were just then singing of .a manger-stall of eighteen hundred years ago!

Christmas morning dawned. Roy was the first astir. Madly excited was the child when he found two stockings overflowing with gifts • " .

All little- boys' get lots, of toys at Christmas, don't they, dad?'" •: -■> . It struck Mr Meredith that there were little fellows, even in Dunedin, to whom Christmas toys and Christmas joys were practically unknown. But it would damp the child's joy to let him into the secret, Roy was of such a quixotic temperament. He would insist on searching out these cases, and giving away his treasures wholesale.

About 3 o'clock father and son were sitting over dessert, when a ring resounded. " Ha ! that's right, Bert. You have found us out. ' This is my son and heir," h*. added, placing his hand on Roy's curly head.

" Roy, this* is the kind man who saved your father's life." "And what did dad do for you?" asked the -boy with interest.

Meredith fidgeted uneasily. ' 'iVty little fellow, he gave me what is a priceless treasure — his friendship," replied the visitor.

" You had better go out in the. garden, Roy," said his father, huskily. 'Go and try your new b'ke."

For the child was staring steadily at the man's tattered garments.

He was wondering if all heroes wore beggar's garb? But he said nothing. Five minutes later he interrupted the conversation by asking very earnestly : " Why don't you wear a nice coat like my dad?"

Matthews flushed, but replied with a wan smile.

"Because I am poor my little fellow." " Well, you've only to ask my father ; he's so kind ; he'll give you a coat and watch and boots, I'm sure."

" Come, Roy," said his father in a tone of vexation, " you really must go outside ; you're losing the best of the day."

The little boy slowly left the room with his eyes fixed on the shabby togs. He came back in a few minutes bearing a money box in his hand. Depositing it in Bert's hands he whispered : " You may keep all this money. It'll buy lots of things." Unbidden tears came to the man's eyes.

" You are a fine little chap, Roy. You shall, give a poor man a shilling for a Christmas box if you like. Pray God, my little man, you may never pass through what I have done."

The two men sat and chatted together after the child had retired.

" Now, Meredith, I thoroughly understand farming," said the visitor, " and I've had such an offer made to me as a man gets but 'once in a life time. Old Fraser is going home and selling off his farm at a sacrifice. The price is dirt cheap. It drives me crazy to think of missing such a chance. I'm certain I could make a fortune out of it. I've sown my wild oats, Charlie, I have indeed ; and I mean to work steadily and to marry when 1 have a decent home to offer a girl. Will you for " auld acquaintance sake ' lend me two hundred at a moderate interest, and thus give a poor beggar a chance?" Charles Meredith stood with his hands in his pockets.

" It's like this, old fellow. My money is tied down in one way and another. Of course I'd like to oblige you, but cr — ,the fact is I couldn't just now, don't you see. I wish to help you, of course, and you must let me give you a five-pound note. It will enable you to get to some other centre and try your luck afresh. I'm sorry — very sorry, I can't do the other." o am I," returned the other ruefully. "In lending the two hundred you run no risk of losing your money, as you .would have the security in the land. A gift of five pounds is a great temporary assistance of course ; in fact, it is like a fortune to me at this moment, but it won't start me in any business. It is very kind of you, but I confess I am much disappointed I can't get the two hundred as this is positively a rare chance. It is a safe speculation."

He looked earnestly at the moneyed man — the man he had saved from a watery grave, but there were no signs of relenting.

" Jit -o out of the question just now, my dear fellow. My money is so invested that I can't place my hand on anything just now Positively, I'm steeped in speculation." " Well, old boy, there is nothing for it but to journey on and try my fortune elsewhere. Many thanks for this accommodation. Good night, old friend." No 'sooner had the outer door closed on the Nomad, than the master of the house sat down to his lonely meditations. He thought of Roy's generous nature. The money box stared him in the face. He sighed. There were times when his gains seemed like Dead Sea fruit. How came it that his friend had arrived at such a pass? He had started in life with at least as good qualifications as himself. He was inclined to grudge his gift of five pounds. But it was Christmas, and he must make the best of it. But it would not do to let his generosity conquer his prudence. The gaslight shone on the picture of his dead wife Laura — one of the sweetest faces which ever sat to painter's brush. From her Roy had inherited his generous instincts. Brave, noble, little lad ! Well for »him he had a father to conserve his interests. Somehow, to-night, his wife's eyes looked down sadly and reproachfully on him. She seemed to say :

"Surely you might have given a start in life to the man who saved your life ' as a boy ' ! "

He winced and turned his eyes away. They involuntarily lighted on another painting by an old master. A miser sat counting his gold. The angel of Death hovered near him, and on his wings were written in letters of fire, " How hardly shall they who have riches enier the kingdom of heaven."

It was a hot night, but the solitary man shivered. He took another glass of whisky. From the next house familiar music poured forth, and a voice of richest melody sang forth Gounod's "Bethlehem."

Instead of gladness it brought but sadness to the lonely man. His eyes seemed •drawn to his wife-'s portrait, and he could have declared her hand moved, and one finger pointed to the words on the angel's wings. He stayed another • shiver by an attempt at a small grating laugh, but it was a sorry attempt, and then he did what was a most unusual thing for him — he helped himself a third time to (coloured) water, and then — and then — and then

He couldn't for the life of him remember going to bed that night. However, whether he did or not affects my story very little. Many men, before and since his time, have slept on stranger beds after looking op the wine when it was red. Roy and ne made a search the following day for their quondam guest, but all in vain. Day after day followed with the same result. On the last night of the old year a dead body was recovered a few miles out of Dunedin. Meredith identified it as that of his old friend. The inquest elicited the supposition that the poor man had been temporarily insane through repeated misfortunes.. Mr Meredith dare not let Roy know, and this secret seemed to weigh heavily on the older man.

Nothing seemed to prosper with him now. All his speculations fell flat. Two of his best horses got the bog spavin. Venture after venture fell to the ground hn.e a pack of cards. At the end of the year he was homeless — his bank account overdrawn. Ruin stared him in the face.

It was once more Christmas Eve. Late at night he sat with a dip candle in place of a brilliant gas illumination, his open desk before him. Little Roy was in bed. His sole present this Christmas Eve had been a bag of oranges. And the boy had talked all day of Herbert Matthews. " I wonder, father, if the ragged man will come to-day who saved your life? " The question had stabbed him to the heart's core.

Would to God Matthews had lived ! It was his death calling down these terrible judgments on himself. A b.ight seemed positive]" withering him up. " Two hundred will pull me through and give me a start," he mused.

Then with a groan he remembered this was the very, amount his friend had asked him for a year ago.

" Let me see, here are letters from two professedly great friends," he continued in self-meditation. " They were fast chums last year, any way. One writes thus : " Thanks, dear fellow, for your most invaluable " tip." It has made me richer by ~,doo. Command me where, when, and how you please.' Surely he is good to lend two hundred. There is Thornley, too. He writes : ' Words convey but feeuiy the sense of my obligation to you.' He, too, will certainly help. Then there is Clarke's letter professing undying fealty because I forebore to press that charge against his rascally son. That was Roy's doing. But for him I should certainly have handed the scamp over to justice. Heavens ! I wish that dead face wouldn't haunt me so!"

Meredith brushed his threadbare clothes, and sought out his friends. The man who had benefited to the extent of the nine hundred pounds received him with a bland smile, but when he heard the purport of his visit he looked grave. " Had it not been for his heavy expenses settling Tom on a farm, etc., etc., he -would have been most happy," etc. Oh, well there were two others ! One of them was bound to help. " Sorry ! Humph ! You're a week too late, Meredith. I've just invested all I had." This was the "undying fealty" man! The third application received a similar rebuff.

The unforfcunati man made a hasty exit. Hurrying along he brushed past a welldressed man. Merciful heavens ! It was Matthews! Meredith shook from head to foot as he gazed on the living dead. " Hullo, Meredith, they tell me you have come down in the world. You must let me help you, old boy."

Then he lost consciousness. A big drum seemed beating in his ear ; he felt a twitching on his coat sleeve. With an effort he opened his eyes, and — and — and found himself in his own brilliantlylighted room with his empty glass on the floor at his feet. The clock pointed to five minutes to 12. He had only slept three-quarters of an hour. What a lifetime of misery he had just passed through though ! He knew now to the bitter dregs the misery of dire poverty. A eentle ring at the front door is heard. Whoever will it be at this hour? The servants have retired for the night. He obeys the bell's summons.

It is Herbert Matthews again. The dream has been so vivid that Meredith gazes as at one from the dead.

" Excuse me returning at this late hour, but I saw your light still burning. Would you believe me, I have lost that 'fiver' you gave me."

" Thank God ! Thank God ! " mutters Meredith hoarsely.

"What do you mean, man?" shouts the other, almost in a frenzy of despair. " I mean what I say—' Thank God ! ' " Matthews gazed wonderingly at dim ; then a sudden inspiration dawning on him he dived into the ragged lining of his coat. There lay the greasy note, doubled and creased. " Give it to me," .shouted Meredith. The other turned pale and scanned him curiously. " I'll take care of it this time," he said. " Give it to me," repeated the other fiercely. Matthews yielded it reluctantly. Meredith went to his desk and wrote something in a shaky hand. It was a cheque for five hundred pounds. Matthews gazed in speechless amazement.

" I value my life at more than five hundred, old friend. Now, don't say a word. Just leave me now. Some day I'll tell you

how I spent the last half hour. Some day ! Good night.

, Iri Otago there lives to-day a .successful ■farmer who once slept' in 'a stable on a Christmas Eve a few years back. • To-night there is a christening party at this house. Mr Meredith is the godfather. The infant's name is Roy. Roy, the elder, is at an English University. A doting father is thinking of him at this moment, and counting the weeks which must elapse befde they meet. He can never forget one Christmas Eve aim its memorable dream.