CHAPTER XXXIV

He had made no empty promise when he assured her that he would do his best; for there was something that could still be done.  He built great hopes on the result of the coming interview with his father.  His idea was to go up to town by the early morning train and talk the whole thing over as calmly as might be.  He would first of all appeal to his father’s better feelings; he would make him see this thing as he saw it, he would rouse in him the spirit of integrity, the spirit of mercy and pity, the spirit of justice and chivalry and honour.

But if all the arts of persuasion failed to touch him, Rickman Junior had in reserve one powerful argument against which Rickman Senior would hardly be able to contend.  There would no doubt be inspirations, but as to the main lines of his pleading he was already clear.  He felt entirely confident and light-hearted as he rose at five the next morning to catch that early train.

Rickman Senior was not in the shop when Rickman Junior arrived on the scene.  He was in a great bare room on an upper floor of the second-hand department.  He looked more than ever studious and ascetic, having exchanged his soft felt hat for a velvet skull-cup, and his frock coat for a thin alpaca.  He was attended by a charwoman with scrubbing brush and pail, a boy with ladder and broom, and a carpenter with foot-rule, note-book and pencil.  He moved among them with his most solemn, most visionary air, the air, not so much of a Wesleyan minister, as of a priest engaged in some high service of dedication.  He was in fact making arrangements for the reception of no less than fifteen thousand volumes, the collection of the late Sir Joseph Harden, of Court House, Harmouth.  And as he looked around him his face expressed the smooth and delicately voluptuous satisfaction of the dreamer who has touched his dream.

This look of beatitude faded perceptibly when the message came that Mr. Keith was in the front shop and wished to see him.  Mr. Keith, it appeared, had no time to spare.  Isaac had, in fact, experienced a slight shock at the earliness of Keith’s return.  His first thought was that at the last moment there had been some serious hitch with Pilkington.  He found Keith sitting before the counter in the attitude of a rather imperious customer; but the warm pressure of his son’s hand removed this disagreeable effect of superiority.  Keith’s face wore signs of worry and agitation that confirmed Isaac’s original fear.

“Well,” he said a little anxiously, “I didn’t expect you back as early as this.”

“I haven’t come to stop.  I’ve got to catch the twelve-thirty back again.  I came up because I wanted to talk to you.”

“Come,” said Isaac, “into the office.”

He laid his hand on Keith’s shoulder as they went.  He felt very kindly towards him at that moment.  His heart was big with trust in the brilliant, impetuous boy.  When he touched Keith’s hand he had felt that intellectual virtue had gone out of it.  He guessed that there was a crisis in the affairs of the House of Rickman, and that Keith had come with warning and with help.  He knew his power of swift and effectual action in a crisis.  Yes, yes; Keith’s wits might go wool-gathering; but he was safe enough when he had gathered his wool.