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More Than Any Man Before Or

After,  Had Succeeded In Rousing The Ire Of Both Adjutant And Colonel.

It Was Impossible To Teach Him Any Drill; What He Was Taught To-Day

He Forgot To-Morrow; When The General Came Down To Inspect,  The

Confusion He Created In The Barrack-Yard Had Proved So Complex,  That

For A Second It Had Taxed The Knowledge Of The Drill-Sergeant To Get

The Men Straight Again.

 

Mr. Stokes Was Late At All Times And All Occasions: He Was Late For

Drill,  He Was Late For Mess,  He Was Late For Church; And When Sent

For He Was Always Found In His Room,  Either Learning A Part Or

Writing A Play. His One Passion Was Theatricals; And Wherever The

Regiment Was Stationed,  He Very Soon Discovered Those Who Were

Disposed To Get Up A Performance Of A Farce.

 

When He Left The Army He Joined The Indian Bar,  And There He Applied

Himself In His Own Absent-Minded Fashion To The Study Of Sanscrit,

Neglecting Hindustani,  Which Would Have Been Of Use To Him In His

Profession. Through India,  China,  And America He Had Drifted. In New

York He Had Edited A Newspaper; In San Francisco He Had Lectured,  And

He Returned Home With An English Nobleman Who Had Engaged Him As

Private Secretary.

 

When He Passed Out Of The Nobleman's Service He Took Chambers In The

Temple,  And Devoted His Abundant Leisure To Writing His Memoirs,  And

The Pleasantest Part Of His Life Began. The Temple Suited Him

Perfectly,  Its Bohemianism Was Congenial To Him,  The Library Was

Convenient,  And As No Man Likes To Wholly Cut Himself Adrift From His

Profession,  The Vicinity Of The Law Courts,  And A Modicum Of Legal

Conversation In The Evening,  Sufficed To Maintain In His

Absent-Minded Head The Illusion That He Was Practising At The Bar.

His Chambers Were Bare And Dreary,  Unadorned With Spoils From India

Or China. Mr. Stokes Retained Nothing; He Had Passed Through Life

Like A Bird. He Had Drifted,  And All Things Had Drifted From Him; He

Did Not Even Possess A Copy Of His _Cradleland Of Arts And Creeds_.

He Had Lost All Except A Small Property In Kent,  And Appeared To Be

Quite Alone In The World.

 

Mr. Stokes Talked Rarely Of His Love Affairs,  And His Allusions Were

So Partial That Nothing Exact Could Be Determined About Him. It Was,

However,  Noticed That He Wore A Gold Bracelet Indissolubly Fastened

Upon His Right Wrist,  And It Was Supposed That An Indian Princess Had

Given Him This,  And That A Goldsmith Had Soldered It Upon Him In Her

Presence,  As She Lay On Her Death-Bed. It Was Noticed That A Young

Girl Came To See Him At Intervals,  Sometimes Alone,  Sometimes

Accompanied By Her Aunt. Mr. Stokes Made No Secret Of This Young

Person,  And He Spoke Of Her As His Adopted Daughter. Mr. Stokes Dined

At A Theatrical Club. All Men Liked Him; He Was Genial And Harmless.

 

Mr. Joseph Silk Was The Son Of A London Clergyman. He Was A Tall,

Spare Young Man,  Who Was Often Met About The Temple,  Striding Towards

His Offices Or The Library. He Was Comically Careful Not To Say

Anything That Might Offend,  And Nervously Concerned To Retreat From

All Persons And Things Which Did Not Seem To Him To Offer

Possibilities Of Future Help; And His Assumed Geniality And

Good-Fellowship Hung About Him Awkwardly,  Like The Clothes Of A

Broad-Chested,  Thick-Thighed Man About Miserable Limbs. For Some Time

Silk Had Been Seriously Thinking Of Cutting Himself Adrift From All

Acquaintanceship With Hall. He Had,  Until Now,  Borne With His

Acquaintanceship Because Hall Was Connected With A Society Journal

That Wrote Perilously Near The Law Of Libel; Several Times The Paper

Had Been Threatened With Actions,  But Had Somehow,  Much To Silk's

Chagrin,  Managed To Escape. All The Actionable Paragraphs Had Been

Discussed With Silk; On Each Occasion Hall Had Come Down To His

Chambers For Advice,  And He Felt Sure That He Would Be Employed In

Chapter 7 Pg 78

The Case When It Did Come Off. But Unfortunately This Showed No Signs

Of Accomplishment. Silk Read The Paper Every Week For The Paragraph

That Was To Bring Him Fame; He Would Have Given Almost Anything To Be

Employed "In A Good Advertising Case." But He Had Noticed That

Instead Of Becoming More Aggressive And Personal,  That Week By Week

The Newspaper Was Moderating Its Tone. In The Last Issue Several

Paragraphs Had Caught His Eye,  Which Could Not Be Described Otherwise

Than As Complimentary; There Were Also Several New Pages Of

Advertisements; And These Robbed Him Of All Hope Of An Action. He

Counted The Pages,  "Twelve Pages Of Advertisements--Nothing Further

Of A Questionable Character Will Go Into That Paper," Thought He,  And

Forthwith Fell To Considering Hall's Invitation To "Come In That

Evening,  If He Had Nothing Better To Do." He Had Decided That He

Would Not Go,  But At The Last Moment Had Gone,  And Now,  As He Sat

Drinking Whiskey-And-Water,  He Glanced Round The Company,  Thinking It

Might Injure Him If It Became Known That He Spent His Evenings There,

And He Inwardly Resolved He Would Never Again Be Seen In Hall's

Rooms.

 

Silk Had Been Called To The Bar About Seven Years. The First Years He

Considered He Had Wasted,  But During The Last Four He Applied Himself

To His Profession. He Had Determined "To Make A Success Of Life,"

That Was How He Put It To Himself. He Had,  During The Last Four

Years,  Done A Good Deal Of "Devilling"; He Had Attended At The Old

Bailey Watching For "Soups" With Untiring Patience. But Lately,

Within The Last Couple Of Years,  He Had Made Up His Mind That Waiting

For "Soups" At The Old Bailey Was Not The Way To Fame Or Fortune. His

First Idea Of A Path Out Of His Present Circumstances Was Through

Hall And The Newspaper; But He Had Lately Bethought Himself Of An

Easier And Wider Way,  One More Fruitful Of Chances And Beset With

Prizes. This Broad And Easy Road To Success Which He Had Lately Begun

To See,  Wound Through His Father's Drawing-Room. London Clergymen

Have,  As A Rule,  Large Salaries And Abundant Leisure,  And Young Silk

Determined To Turn His Father's Leisure To Account. The Reverend Silk

Required No Pressing. "Show Me What Line To Take,  And I Will Take

It," Said He; And Young Silk,  Knowing Well The Various Firms Of

Solicitors That Were Dispensing Such Briefs As He Could Take,

Instructed His Father When And Where He Should Exercise His Tea-Table

Agreeabilities,  And Forthwith The Reverend Gentleman Commenced His

Social Wrigglings. There Were Teas And Dinners,  And Calls,  And Lying

Without End. Over The Wine Young Silk Cajoled The Senior Member Of

The Firm,  And In The Drawing-Room,  Sitting By The Wife,  He Alluded To

His Father's Philanthropic Duties,  Which He Relieved With Such

Sniggering And Pruriency As He Thought The Occasion Demanded.

 

About Six Months Ago,  Mr. Joseph Silk Had Accidentally Learnt,  In The

Treasurer's Offices,  That The Second Floor In No. 5,  Paper Buildings

Was Unoccupied. He Had Thought Of Changing His Chambers,  But A Second

Floor In Paper Buildings Was Beyond His Means. But Two Or Three Days

After,  As He Was Walking From His Area In King's Bench Walk To The

Library,  He Suddenly Remembered That The Celebrated Advocate,  Sir

Arthur Haldane,  Lived On The First Floor In Paper Buildings. Now At

His Father's House,  Or In One Of The Houses His Father Frequented,  He

Might Meet Sir Arthur; Indeed,  A Meeting Could Easily Be Arranged.

Here Mr. Silk's Sallow Face Almost Flushed With A Little Colour,  And

His Heart Beat As His Little Scheme Pressed Upon His Mind. Dreading

An Obstacle,  He Feared To Allow The Thought To Formulate; But After A

Moment He Let It Slip,  And It Said--"Now If I Were To Take The Second

Floor,  I Should Often Meet Sir Arthur On The Doorstep And Staircase.

What An Immense Advantage It Would Be To Me When Stoggard And Higgins

Learnt That I Was On Terms Of Friendship With Sir Arthur. I Know As A

Positive Fact That Stoggard And Higgins Would Give Anything To Get

Sir Arthur For Some Of Their Work.... But The Rent Is Very Heavy In

Paper Buildings. I Must Speak To Father About It." A Few Weeks After,

Mr. Joseph Transferred His Furniture To No. 2,  Paper Buildings; And

Not Long After He Had The Pleasure Of Meeting Sir Arthur At Dinner.

 

Mr. Silk's Love Affairs Were Neither Numerous Nor Interesting. He Had

Spent Little Of His Time With Women,  And Little Of His Money Upon

Women,  And His Amativeness Had Led Him Into No Wilder Exploit Than

The Seduction Of His Laundress's Daughter,  By Whom He Had Had A

Chapter 7 Pg 79

Child. Indeed,  It Had Once Been Whispered That The Mother,  With The

Child In Her Arms,  Had Knocked At King's Bench Walk And Had Insisted

On Being Admitted. Having Not The Slightest Knowledge Or Perception

Of Female Nature,  He Had Extricated Himself With Difficulty From The

Scandal By Which He Was Menaced,  And Was Severely Mulcted Before The

Girl Was Induced To Leave London. About Every Three Months She Wrote

To Him,  And These Letters Were Read With Horror And Burnt In

Trembling Haste; For Mr. Joseph Silk Was Now Meditating For

Matrimonial And Legal Purposes One Of The Daughters Of One Of The

Solicitors He Had Met In Paper Buildings,  And Being An Exceedingly

Nervous,  Ignorant,  And Unsympathetic Man In All That Did Not Concern

His Profession,  Was Vastly Disturbed At Every Echo Of His

Indiscretion.

 

Harding,  In Reply To A Question As To What He Thought Of Silk,  Said--

 

"What Do I Think Of Silk? Cotton Back" ... And Every One Laughed,

Feeling The Intrinsic Truth Of The Judgement.

 

Mr. George Cooper Was Mr. Joseph Silk's Friend. Cooper Consulted Silk

On Every Point. Whenever He Saw A Light In Silk's Chambers He

Thrilled A Little With Anticipation Of The Pleasant Hour Before Him,

And They Sat Together Discussing The Abilities Of Various Eminent

Judges And Barristers. Silk Told Humorous Anecdotes Of The Judges;

Cooper Was Exercised Concerning Their Morality,  And Enlarged

Anxiously On The Responsibility Of Placing A Man On The Bench Without

Having Full Knowledge Of His Private Life. Silk Listened,  Puffing At

His Pipe,  And To Avoid Committing Himself To An Opinion,  Asked Cooper

To Have Another Glass Of Port. Before They Parted Allusion Was Made

To The Law-Books That Cooper Was Writing--Cooper Was Always Bringing

Out New Editions Of Other People's Books,  And Continually Exposed The

Bad Law They Wrote In His Conversation. He Had Waited His Turn Like

Another For "Soups" At The Bailey,  And Like Another Had Grown Weary

Of Waiting; Besides,  The Meditative Cast Of His Mind Enticed Him

Towards Chamber Practice And Away From Public Pleading Before Judge

And Jury. Silk Sought "A Big Advertising Case"; He Desired The

Excitement Of Court,  And,  Though He Never Refused Any Work,  He

Dreaded The Lonely Hours Necessary For The Perfect Drawing Up Of A

Long Indictment. Cooper Was Very Much Impressed With Silk's

Abilities; He Thought Him Too Hard And Mechanical,  Not Sufficiently

Interested In The Science Of Morals; But These Defects Of Character

Were Forgotten In His Homage To His Friend's Worldly Shrewdness. For

Cooper Was Unendowed With Worldly Shrewdness,  And,  Like All Dreamers,

Was Attracted By A Mind Which Controlled While He Might

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