Ire-entered the town a hungry man; the dinner I had forgotten recurred seductively to my recollection; and it was with a quick step and sharp appetite I ascended the narrow streetleading to my lodgings.It was dark when I opened the front doorand walked into the house.I wondered how my fire would be; the night was cold, and I shuddered at the prospect of a grate full of sparkless cinders.To my joyful surprise, I found, on entering my sitting-room, a good fire and a clean hearth.I had hardly noticed this phenomenon, when I became aware of another subject for wonderment; the chair I usually occupied near the hearth was already filled; a person sat there with his.arms folded on his chest, and his legs stretched out on the rug.Short-sighted as I am, doubtful as was the gleam of the firelight, a moment’s examination enabled me to recognize in this person my acquaintance, Mr.Hunsden.I could not of course be much pleased to see him, considering the manner in which I had parted from him the night before, and as I walked to the hearth, stirred the fire, and said coolly, “Good evening,” my demeanour evinced as little cordiality as I felt; yet I wondered in my own mind what had brought him there; and I wondered, also, what motives had induced him to interfere so actively between me and Edward; it was to him, it appeared, that I owed my welcome dismissal; still I could not bring myself to ask him questions, to show any eagerness of curiosity; if he chose to explain, he might, but the explanation should be a perfectly voluntary one on his part; I thought he was entering upon it.
“You owe me a debt of gratitude,” were his first words.
“Do I?” said I; “I hope it is not a large one, for I am much too poor to charge myself with heavy liabilities of any kind.”
“Then declare yourself bankrupt at once, for this liability is aton weight at least.When I came in I found your fire out, and I had it lit again, and made that sulky drab of a servant stay and blow at it with the bellows till it had burnt up properly; now, say ‘Thank you!’”
“Not till I have had something to eat; I can thank nobody while I am so famished.”
I rang the bell and ordered tea and some cold meat.
“Cold meat!” exclaimed Hunsden, as the servant closed the door, “what a glutton you are; man! Meat with tea! you’ll die of eating too much.”
“No, Mr.Hunsden, I shall not.” I felt a necessity for contradicting him; I was irritated with hunger, and irritated at seeing him there, and irritated at the continued roughness of his manner.
“It is over-eating that makes you so ill-tempered,” said he.
“How do you know?” I demanded.“It is like you to give a pragmatical opinion without being acquainted with any of the circumstances of the case; I have had no dinner.”
What I said was petulant and snappish enough, and Hunsden only replied by looking in my face and laughing.
“Poor thing!” he whined, after a pause.“It has had no dinner,has it? What! I suppose its master would not let it come home.Did Crimsworth order you to fast by way of punishment, William!”
“No, Mr.Hunsden.Fortunately at this sulky juncture, tea, wasbrought in, and I fell to upon some bread and butter and cold beefdirectly.Having cleared a plateful, I became so far humanized as to intimate to Mr.Hunsden “that he need not sit there staring, but might come to the table and do as I did, if he liked.”
“But I don’t like in the least,” said he, and therewith hesummoned the servant by a fresh pull of the bell-rope, and intimated a desire to have a glass of toast-and-water.“And some more coal,” he added; “Mr.Crimsworth shall keep a good fire while I stay.”
His orders being executed, he wheeled his chair round to the table, so as to be opposite me.
“Well,” he proceeded.“You are out of work, I suppose.”
“Yes,” said I; and not disposed to show the satisfaction I felt on this point, I, yielding to the whim of the moment, took up the subject as though I considered myself aggrieved rather than benefited by what had been done.“Yes—thanks to you, I am.Crimsworth turned me off at a minute’s notice, owing to some interference of yours at a public meeting, I understand.”
“Ah! what! he mentioned that? He observed me signalling the lads, did he? What had he to say about his friend Hunsden— anything sweet?”
“He called you a treacherous villain.”
“Oh, he hardly knows me yet! I’m one of those shy people who don’t come out all at once, and he is only just beginning to make my acquaintance, but he’ll find I’ve some good qualities — excellent ones! The Hunsdens were always unrivalled at tracking a rascal; a downright, dishonourable villain is their natural prey— they could not keep off him wherever they met him; you used the word pragmatical just now—that word is the property of our family; it has been applied to us from generation to generation; wehave fine noses for abuses; we scent a scoundrel a mile off; we are reformers born, radical reformers; and it was impossible for me to live in the same town with Crimsworth, to come into weekly contact with him, to witness some of his conduct to you (for whom personally I care nothing; I only consider the brutal injustice with which he violated your natural claim to equality)—I say it was impossible for me to be thus situated and not feel the angel or the demon of my race at work within me.I followed my instinct, opposed a tyrant, and broke a chain.”
Now this speech interested me much, both because it broughtout Hunsden’s character, and because it explained his motives; it interested me so much that I forgot to reply to it, and sat silent, pondering over a throng of ideas it had suggested.
“Are you grateful to me?” he asked, presently.
