The Story of Antony Grace

Chapter Fifty.

Mr Rowle Begins his Task

Poor Mrs Hallett was, no doubt, a great sufferer; and as I grow older and knew her better, the annoyance I used to feel at her unreasonable ways dropped aside to make room for pity.

One thing always struck me, and that was, that though she was constantly murmuring about Stephen’s wasting time over his schemes, and the wretched way in which he was constantly plodding on, instead of ambitiously trying to rise to some profession, it was dangerous for anyone else to speak of such a thing.

At the appointed time I called upon Mr Jabez, and he accompanied me to Great Ormond Street, looking brighter and younger than I had ever seen him look before. His snuff-box was in constant use, and he on the way, after vainly trying to stand treat, as he called it, by stopping at the various grocers’ windows, and wanting to buy me a box of candied fruits or French plums, went on tatting about Miss Carr.

“Antony Grace,” he exclaimed; “that fellow will wake up some day.”

“What fellow?”

“Lister. The fool! the idiot! the ass! Why, an earthly heaven was open to him, and he turned his back upon it. There’s a life of repentance for him.”

“I can’t understand it,” I said.

“Humph! No,” he continued; and he kept glancing at me curiously, as if eager to say something – to ask me some question; but he refrained.

“I’m glad you liked Miss Carr,” I said at last.

“Liked her, boy?” he exclaimed enthusiastically; and he stopped in the centre of the pavement. “There, I suppose I’m growing into an old fool, but that’s no business of anybody. That young lady, sir, can command Jabez Rowle from this moment. Here, come along; the people are looking at you.”

I thought they were looking at Mr Jabez, but I said nothing, only kept step with him, as he thrust his arm through mine and hurried me on.

“Of course, what I say to you is in confidence, Antony Grace,” he continued.

“Of course,” I replied warmly; “and let me beg of you, Mr Rowle, to be very careful. Pray don’t let Hallett have any suspicion of how your interest has come about; and, above all, he must not think that I have talked to you about his model.”

“Hold your tongue, tomtit,” he exclaimed merrily, “trying to teach a croaking old raven, getting on towards a hundred. You leave it to me. But look here, boy, I’m not blind. This is all in confidence, of course. I can see as far into a mill-stone as most, people. Have Hallett and Miss – Bah, what am I saying?” he muttered, checking himself suddenly. “It’s all in confidence, and I shall be as close as an oyster. I’ve got my part by heart, and you shall see what you shall see.”

He gave my arm a tight nip, and soon after we reached the door, which I opened with my latchkey, and took him into my rooms, with which the old man seemed much pleased.

“Why, you reckless young hypocrite, this is the way you live, is it? Books, eh? And what are these wheels for?” he continued, picking up a couple from the chimney-piece.

“The model,” I said quietly. “Now, what shall we do? Ask Hallett to come down here, or go up?”

“Send up word that you have an old friend with you, and ask if you may bring him up.”

I took the hint, and Mary came back in a few minutes to say that Mr Hallett would be only too glad to see us.

We went up, and I saw at once that Hallett had come down from the attic. Mrs Hallett was asleep, and Linny, looking very pale and thin, but still restful and better, was in an easy-chair with a book.

“Ah, Hallett, how do?” said the old gentleman, in his abrupt way. “Your servant, ma’am,” he added, with a profound bow.

Hallett looked stern and displeased, and his greeting was cold.

“My sister, Mr Rowle,” he said. “She has been ill.”

“So I see,” he replied. “I hope you are getting better, my dear child. You must take plenty of fresh air. I came to see my young friend, Antony Grace here, and he suggested that as we were under the same roof, I should come and see you. Sorry you ever left us, Mr Hallett.”

Hallett bowed.

“Ah,” he continued, taking the chair coldly offered, “lots of changes since. I suppose you know the partnership’s dissolved?”

“Yes, I had heard so,” replied Hallett, glancing uneasily at Linny.

“I stick on with the senior branch,” the old man continued, as his eyes wandered about the room, for he was evidently at a loss, and I did not know how to help him, so crossed over to sit down by and talk to Linny.

But fate favoured us, for in his hurried descent Hallett had brought with him a portion of the mechanism of the model.

“Hullo!” exclaimed Mr Jabez sharply; “what have you got there? Have you, too, turned engineer?”

“Oh, no,” said Hallett, who was annoyed. “I – that is – it is a portion of a little contrivance of mine.”

“Oho!” exclaimed Mr Jabez, “I’ve found you out, have I, Master Hallett! Why, you were always making sketches of machinery at the office.”

“How do you know that?” said Hallett sharply, while my heart sank, for I felt that our attempt would be a failure.

“Old Grim told me. That young scoundrel, Jem Smith, used to carry him scraps of paper upon which you had been drawing.”

Hallett’s brow grew more cloudy, but he brightened up directly, saying frankly:

“Well, yes, Mr Rowle, I am engaged upon a little invention.”

“That’s right,” said the old man warmly; “that’s right; I wish I had begun something of the kind when I was young. It takes the mind away from the daily mill-horse work. But somehow, Hallett, I never could drag my mind away from it, but used to amuse myself reading proofs at home. Grace,” he continued, turning to me, “why don’t you take to something? You being an engineer, now, you ought to do something, say, in our line. There’s plenty of chances there. I know one man,” he said, taking up his thin leg and nursing it, “who has been trying for years to perfect a machine.”

“Oh, Mr Jabez,” I thought, “you have spoiled all!” for Hallett darted a quick glance at me.

“The idea occurred to him,” continued Mr Jabez, tapping his snuff-box thoughtfully, as if it contained the machine, “that he could make a contrivance that would do away with the necessity for setting type.”

“Indeed?” said Hallett, who drew a long breath of relief.

“Yes, sir,” said Mr Jabez; “his idea was to get the type set up in long pipes above a keyboard, like a piano, and every time a key was touched with the finger, it pushed out a letter, which ran down an inclined plane to an opening, where a tiny hammer gave it a tap and drove it along a channel in which the letters formed one long line, which was afterwards made into pages and justified.”

“And did it answer?” said Hallett eagerly.

“No,” said the old man, taking a pinch of snuff, as Linny and I now listened to him attentively. “The idea was clever, but it was too crude. He set up his stick full, Antony Grace, and neglected to read it afterwards. He failed at first.”

“But you said it was a good idea, Mr Jabez,” I exclaimed.

“A capital idea,” said the old man, “but it was full of faults.”

“Faults?” said Hallett dreamily.

“Yes, sir,” said the old man, growing animated. “For instance, he would only have been able to set one kind of type – one size. He couldn’t use italic. He wanted a clever, sensible woman or man to work the keys, another to make the type up into lines. And he was obliged to have a boy to work the little hammer, or beater, to drive the letters along. Then the type would get stuck if the letters were not sent down exactly to the time; for two would meet in a lane, and then there was no end of confusion, and, after all, the type had to be distributed, and afterwards set up in sticks to fill the machine.”

“Exactly,” said Hallett, with animation, for the ice was broken. “I had thought of something similar.”

“But you did not do it.”

“No; oh no! Composition always seemed to me to require the mind of man – the brain to guide it. It seemed to me that invention should be applied to something of a more mechanical nature.”

“Exactly,” said Mr Jabez. “You couldn’t make a machine to read and correct proofs, or revise a slip.”

“Of course not,” said Hallett.

“Of course not,” said Mr Jabez. “But, mind you, I’m not one of those idiots who rise up in arms against machinery, and I don’t say but what our friend might not have gone on and greatly improved his machine. For instance, he might have contrived another, to do away with the distribution and re-setting up of the type.”

“Yes,” said Hallett thoughtfully; “it might have been recast and replaced by mechanism.”

“And always have new type,” said Mr Jabez eagerly. “To be sure: a capital idea; but I don’t know, Hallett, I don’t know. They say you can buy gold too dearly. In the same way, you can make a time-saving process too expensive.”

“Certainly,” said Hallett thoughtfully; and I was glad to see now that he was pleased to meet the old man.

“It seems to me,” said Mr Jabez, passing his snuff-box, which Hallett received, and, to humour his visitor, partook of a pinch, “that an inventor ought to devote his attention to making machinery for doing away with a great deal more of our labouring mechanical work, and not the careful processes that require thought.”

“Printing, for instance?”

“Ye-es,” said Mr Jabez; “but that ground has been pretty well taken up. We have some good machines now, that do a lot of work by steam. Why, when I was a boy we used to have the clumsiest old presses possible to conceive. I don’t think they had been much improved since the days of Caxton.”

“And yet there is great room for improvement,” cried Hallett, with animation. “Mr Rowle, we saw very little of each other beyond business encounters, but I believe, sir, that I may place trust in your word?”

“Thank you, Mr Hallett, I hope so. I’m sure I always placed confidence in yours. I am proud to say, Miss Hallett, that if your brother promised me a slip by a certain time, my mind was always easy, for I knew it would be done.”

“Oh, nonsense, nonsense,” said Hallett, smiling. “Look here, Mr Rowle, I feel that you will not betray my confidence, and I ask you as a favour to keep private what you see here to-night.”

“What I see here?” said Mr Jabez, looking around with an assumed look of puzzle, while I felt the colour coming in my face as I thought of the part I was playing.

“I mean what I am about to show you, Mr Rowle,” said Hallett, smiling.

“Trust me? Oh yes, of course, yes – of course,” said the old man warmly; “here is my hand.”

“Thank you,” said Hallett, taking it. “Linny, my dear, you will not mind being left alone?”

“Oh no,” she said, smiling; and lighting another lamp, Hallett led the way up to the attic, Mr Jabez finding an opportunity to give me a solemn wink before we stood by Hallett’s bench.

“I have spent so much thought and labour over this model,” said Hallett, “that, you must not be surprised at the jealousy with which I watch it.”

“Oh no,” said Mr Jabez, who proceeded, snuff-box in hand, to examine carefully every point in the invention.

“Well,” said Hallett, at last, “do you think it will answer?”

In place of replying, Mr Jabez went all over it again, his interest growing fast, and being, I was glad to see, evidently sincere.

“I tell you what,” he exclaimed at last, taking a tremendous pinch of snuff, “that thing would be splendid if you got it right.”

“You like it, then?” said Hallett.

“Like it? I think it’s grand. Why, man, it would make quite a revolution in the news business. You must get on – get it perfect.”

Mr Hallett shook his head.

“It takes time and money,” he said sadly. “It is slow work.”

“Yes, but – hang it all, sir! you should get help. With such an important thing in hand you should work on.”

“I do not know yet that it would answer,” said Hallett sadly.

“But it must answer, sir,” said the old man sharply. “If that machine did not answer, it would not be the fault or the principle, but of some blunder in the mechanism.”

“Do you think so?” cried Hallett, whose eyes lighted up with pleasure.

“No, sir: I am sure so,” said the old man. “The principle is as grand as it is simple; and what I like in the invention is this – you have taken up a part of the trade where it is all hand-labour – all mechanical. You are not trying to do away with brainpower.”

“I am very glad you like my idea, Mr Rowle,” said Hallett, proceeding to cover his model, which, when set in motion, ran easily and well.

“I am delighted with it,” said Mr Jabez, poking him in the chest with his snuff-box. “Now, then, go ahead, and have the thing made on a workable scale.”

“But I have not perfected it yet,” replied Hallett.

“Never mind; perfect it as you go on. You are sure to find some weak spots. If I were you, sir, I should set a good firm of engineers to work on that at once.”

Hallett smiled sadly.

“You are proposing impossibilities, Mr Rowle. This has been one of my great troubles, sir: how I was to carry on my project when I had completed my model. During the past few days I have been thinking of trying to sell the idea for what it is worth.”

“What I and let some fellow without half an ounce of brains in his skull reap all the profit? Don’t you do anything of the kind. There’s a fortune in that contrivance, Mr Hallett. Sir, it is a great invention.”

“What would you do, then?” said Hallett, smiling.

“Do, sir? I’d – I’d – ”

Mr Jabez paused, and took a pinch of snuff.

“Do, sir, I’d – I’d – I’ll tell you what I’d do. I’d take a partner who had money.”

Hallett shook his head sadly.

“Who would advance money to such a dreamer as I am?” he said sadly.

“Lots of people, as soon as they saw money in it.”

Hallett shook his head.

“You take a very sanguine view of the matter, Mr Rowle.”

“Not half so sanguine as you, sir. Why, you must have spent years of labour, and a great deal of money, over that model.”

“I have,” said Hallett sadly.

“Then don’t call me sanguine,” cried Mr Jabez, flying to his snuff-box again. “I ask, here, Hallett, how much would it take to produce that thing, patent it, and the rest of it?”

“I cannot say,” replied Hallett quietly, and with the same sad smile upon his face. “It is one of those things which keen on crying, ‘More! more!’ I dare say it would require 300 pounds or 400 pounds to produce the first machine, and then I have no doubt more would have to be spent in perfecting it.”

“Yes, I dare say,” said Mr Jabez coolly, as he uncovered and once more began to examine the model; “I tell you what, Hallett, I think I know your man.”

“What, a capitalist?”

“No, sir; a man with a selfish desire to share in the child of your brains.”

“Indeed!”

“Yes; he hasn’t much money, but I’ll be bound to say that he would find enough to carry out your plans for, say, one-third of the profits.”

“Mr Rowle, are you serious?” said Hallett earnestly.

“I never joke about business matters, Mr Hallett. As I said before, sir, that’s a great invention; and if you’ll let me, I’ll find the money for carrying it on, conditionally that I take one-third of the profits the invention makes.”

“You will! Mr Rowle!” cried Hallett incredulously.

“I will, sir; and there’s my hand upon it.”

“But do you understand the magnitude of the affair, sir?” cried Hallett, whose face flushed and eyes glittered with excitement.

“Quite so,” replied the old gentleman, diving again into his snuff-box. “The first thing is, sir, to draw out a proper document between us – we can do that without the lawyers. Then proper drawings must be made, with description, and the thing must be patented.”

“But that will take nearly a hundred pounds!” cried Hallett, panting; while I sat there hugging myself with delight.

“You can have my cheque for a hundred pounds, Mr Hallett, as soon as we have settled the preliminaries; and I bind myself to go on finding the necessary cash for construction as you go on. And now, sir, it’s pretty well my bed-time, and I want to be off. Do nothing rashly. This day week I’ll come here again for your answer, which I hope will be yes; for I think it will be a good stroke of business for both of us. Now good-night. Antony Grace, will you show me the way down to the door?”

They shook hands, and I saw the old gentleman to the street.

“There, my boy, wasn’t that done well?” he chuckled. “But look here, Antony Grace,” he added seriously; “I’d have done it without Miss Carr, that I would, for I believe in that machine. Good-night, boy, I’ll come on next week and – hang it, look at that fellow who just passed. He’s as like John Lister as two peas.”

The old man went off, and I returned to my room, where I found Hallett waiting for me in a state of intense excitement.

“Antony,” he exclaimed, “it is too good to be true. It is fortune at last – success. Good heavens! it makes me turn giddy. Mother – Linny,” he cried, in a low passionate wail, “at last there is sunshine breaking through the clouds.”

“I pray Heaven there may be, Hallett,” I exclaimed; “but I have something to say to you.”

“What is it?” he cried. “Has the old man repented?”

“Oh, no; you may be sure of him, Hallett. He is delighted at the opportunity, and thinks it will lead to fortune.”

“What do you mean, then?”

“John Lister is hanging about this street.”

“Why? How? what makes you say that?”

“I saw him pass the door, just now.”

His brow darkened, and involuntarily he uttered his sister’s name.

“No,” I said; “I don’t believe it of her. He is only trying to meet with her once more. I am sure Linny does not know it.”

“You are right, Antony; she cannot know it. We can trust her now. Let us go and sit upstairs.”

As we entered the room, Linny raised her eyes from the book which she was reading, and her calm ingenuous look was sufficient to disarm suspicion; but, all the same, Hallett and I both felt that the wolf was prowling about the fold, and that it behoved us to see that he had no further chance of carrying off our lamb.

Chapter Fifty One.

Mr Lister is Moved On

We had good reason to know that John Lister was hovering about the place, for I saw him several times, and found that in Hallett’s absence and mine he had called and endeavoured to see Linny; but she had always refused, and on Mary being warned, he received such a rebuff that he did not call again. Still, however, he hung about, making the poor girl’s life wretched, for at last she dared not go to the window for fear of being seen.

Both Hallett and I wondered whether his pertinacity would make any impression. While we were in a state of doubt, it fell to my lot one evening to become Linny’s escort to a distant part of London, and we were on our way back, when suddenly I felt her hand tighten upon my arm.

“Quick, Antony,” she whispered, “he is there!”

“He is there?” I said wonderingly, for I did not comprehend her; but the next moment I caught sight of Lister coming towards us, and evidently fixing her with his eyes.

There was a meaning smile upon his lip, and, apparently intending to ignore me, he was about to speak, when, with a gesture of horror, she shrank from him, turned her head aside, and begged me to hurry home.

“We’ll go home,” I said; “but we will not hurry;” and I turned and met Lister’s contemptuous stare, as he followed us at a little distance till we had reached the house.

I was annoyed and distressed about this pertinacious pursuit, and I had just made up my mind to consult Hallett on the best way to put a stop to it, when an idea occurred to me.

“It is very evident,” I thought, “that Lister does not know who lives here;” and I laughed to myself as I quietly determined to put my plan in force.

That evening, while Hallett was busy in his attic, slaving away with redoubled energy at his model, giving it what he looked upon as the final touches before proceeding with the patent, I went down as soon as I heard Revitts come in, his broad face expanding with pleasure as I followed him below to his own particular sanctuary, where, while he was enjoying his after-tea pipe, I opened my business.

“Revitts,” I said, “I’m going to take you into my confidence, and ask you to keep faith.”

“Which you may be sure I shall do, Master Antony, if so be I can.”

“Well, you can, Bill,” I replied; and I proceeded to tell him how Linny was annoyed.

“That’s very unpleasant,” he said thoughtfully; “but is it by that same chap?”

“Yes.”

“That’ll do,” he said, drawing a long breath; “and lookye here, Antony, my young friend, I’m sergeant, and have to set an example now to them as is under – them, I mean – no, I don’t – I mean those as – who – are under me – that’s right! One’s obliged to be particler now. Use of the truncheon forbidden, except when obliged; but if I do meet, that fellow annoying Miss Linny, I shall be obliged to give him a topper – a hangel couldn’t help it.”

“No, no, Bill – no, Mr Sergeant,” I began.

“Stow that, Antony, no larks. Bill, please, as afore.”

“Well, then, Bill, that is one of the things you must not do. All I want is for you to let him see that you live here, and that Miss Hallett is under your protection. He won’t face you, and as soon as he finds that you are here he will keep away.”

“But he must be taken for his assault on the police, Antony.”

“No, no: let him go on in his own way. If you take him, there will be a great deal of inquiry and exposure that would be most painful to all my friends. We should have to go into the witness-box and be cross-examined, and it would be extremely painful to me, both on my own behalf and that of others.”