It was about eight months after the business had been opened that a circumstance took place which gave to the firm a reputation which for some few days was absolutely metropolitan. The affair was at first fortuitous, but advantage was very promptly taken of all that occurred; no chance was allowed to pass by unimproved; and there was, perhaps, as much genuine talent displayed in the matter as though the whole had been designed from the beginning. The transaction was the more important as it once more brought Mr. Robinson and Maryanne Brown together, and very nearly effected a union between them. It was not, however, written in the book that such a marriage should ever be celebrated, and the renewal of love which for a time gave such pleasure to the young lady\'s father, had no other effect than that of making them in their subsequent quarrels more bitter than ever to each other.
It was about midwinter when the circumstances now about to be narrated took place. Mr. Brown had gone down to the neighbourhood of Manchester for the purpose of making certain bona fide purchases of coloured prints, and had there come to terms with a dealer. At this time there was a strike among the factories, and the goods became somewhat more scarce in the market, and, therefore, a trifle dearer than was ordinarily the case. From this arose the fact that the agreement made with Mr. Brown was not kept by the Lancashire house, and that the firm in Bishopsgate was really subjected to a certain amount of commercial ill-treatment.
"It is a cruel shame," said Mr. Brown—"a very cruel shame; when a party in trade has undertaken a transaction with another party, no consideration should hinder that party from being as good as his word. A tradesman\'s word should be his bond." This purchase down among the factories had been his own special work, and he had been proud of it. He was, moreover, a man who could ill tolerate any ill-usage from others. "Can\'t we do anything to \'em, George? Can\'t we make \'em bankrupts?"
"If we could, what good would that do us?" said Robinson. "We must put up with it."
"I\'d bring an action against them," said Jones.
"And spend thirty or forty pounds with the lawyers," said Robinson. "No; we will not be such fools as that. But we might advertise the injury."
"Advertise the injury," said Mr. Brown, with his eyes wide open. By this time he had begun to understand that the depth of his partner\'s finesse was not to be fathomed by his own unaided intelligence.
"And spend as much money in that as with the lawyers," said Jones.
"Probably more," said Robinson, very calmly. "We promised the public in our last week\'s circular that we should have these goods."
"Of course we did," said Mr. Brown; "and now the public will be deceived!" And he lifted up his hands in horror at the thought.
"We\'ll advertise it," said Robinson again; and then for some short space he sat with his head resting on his hands. "Yes, we\'ll advertise it. Leave me for awhile, that I may compose the notices."
Mr. Brown, after gazing at him for a moment with a countenance on which wonder and admiration were strongly written, touched his other partner on the arm, and led him from the room.
The following day was Saturday, which at Magenta House was always the busiest day of the week. At about four o\'clock in the afternoon the shop would become thronged, and from that hour up to ten at night nearly as much money was taken as during all the week besides. On that Saturday at about noon the following words were to be read at each of the large sheets of glass in the front of the house. They were printed, of course, on magenta paper, and the corners and margins were tastefully decorated:—
Brown, Jones, and Robinson, having been greatly deceived by Johnson of Manchester, are not able to submit to the public the 40,000 new specimens of English prints, as they had engaged to do, on this day. But they beg to assure their customers and the public in general that they will shortly do so, however tremendous may be the sacrifice.
"But it was Staleybridge," said Mr. Brown, "and the man\'s name was Pawkins."
"And you would have me put up \'Pawkins of Staleybridge,\' and thus render the firm liable to an indictment for libel? Are not Pawkins and Johnson all the same to the public?"
"But there is sure to be some Johnson at Manchester."
"There are probably ten, and therefore no man can say that he is meant. I ascertained that there were three before I ventured on the name."
On that afternoon some trifling sensation was created in Bishopsgate Street, and a few loungers were always on the pavement reading the notice. Robinson went out from time to time, and heard men as they passed talking of Johnson of Manchester. "It will do," said he. "You will see that it will do. By seven o\'clock on next Saturday evening I will have the shop so crowded that women who are in shall be unable to get out again."
That notice remained up on Saturday evening, and till twelve on Monday, at which hour it was replaced by the following:—
Johnson of Manchester has proved himself utterly unable to meet his engagement. The public of the metropolis, however, may feel quite confident that Brown, Jones, and Robinson will not allow any provincial manufacturer to practise such dishonesty on the City with impunity.
The concourse of persons outside then became much greater, and an audible hum of voices not unfrequently reached the ears of those within. During this trying week Mr. Jones, it must be acknowledged, did not play his part badly. It had come home to him in some manner that this peculiar period was of vital importance to the house, and on each day he came down to business dressed in his very best. It was pleasant to see him as he stood at the door, shining with bear\'s grease, loaded with gilt chains, glittering with rings, with the lappets of his coat thrown back so as to show his frilled shirt and satin waistcoat. There he stood, rubbing his hands and looking out upon the people as though he scorned to notice them. As regards intellect, mind, apprehension, there was nothing to be found in the personal appearance of Jones, but he certainly possessed an amount of animal good looks which had its weight with weak-minded females.
The second notice was considered sufficient to attract notice on Monday and Tuesday. On the latter day it became manifest that the conduct of Johnson of Manchester had grown to be matter of public interest, and the firm was aware that persons from a distance were congregating in Bishopsgate Street, in order that they might see with their own eyes the notices at Magenta House.
Early on the Wednesday, the third of the series appeared. It was very short, and ran as follows:—
Johnson of Manchester is off!
The police are on his track!
This exciting piece of news was greedily welcomed by the walking public, and a real crowd had congregated on the pavement by noon. A little after that time, while Mr. Brown was still at dinner with his daughter upstairs, a policeman called and begged to see some member of the firm. Jones, whose timidity was overwhelming, immediately sent for Mr. Brown; and he, also embarrassed, knocked at the door of Mr. Robinson\'s little room, and asked for counsel.
"The Peelers are here, George," he said. "I knew there\'d be a row."
"I hope so," said Robinson; "I most sincerely hope so."
As he stood up to answer his senior partner he saw that Miss Brown was standing behind her father, and he resolved that, as regarded this occasion, he would not be taunted with want of spirit.
"But what shall I say to the man?" asked Mr. Brown.
"Give him a shilling and a glass of spirits; beg him to keep the people quiet outside, and promise him cold beef and beer at three o\'clock. If he runs rusty, send for me." And then, having thus instructed the head of the house, he again seated himself before his writing materials at the table.
"Mr. Robinson," said a soft voice, speaking to him through the doorway, as soon as the ponderous step of the old man was heard descending the stairs.
"Yes; I am here," said he.
"I don\'t know whether I may open the door," said she; "for I would not for worlds intrude upon your studies."
He knew that she was a Harpy. He knew that her soft words would only bring him to new grief. But yet he could not help himself. Strong, in so much else, he was utterly weak in her hands. She was a Harpy who would claw out his heart and feed upon it, without one tender feeling of her own. He had learned to read her character, and to know her for what she was. But yet he could not help himself.
"There will be no intrusion," he said. "In half an hour from this time, I go with this copy to the printer\'s. Till then I am at rest."
"At rest!" said she. "How sweet it must be to rest after labours such as yours! Though you and I are two, Mr. Robinson, who was once one, still I hear of you, and—sometimes think of you."
"I am surprised that you should turn your thoughts to anything so insignificant," he replied.
"Ah! that is so like you. You are so scornful, and so proud,—and never so proud as when pretending to be humble. I sometimes think that it is better that you and I are two, because you are so proud. What could a poor girl like me have done to satisfy you?"
False and cruel that she was! \'Tis thus that the basilisk charms the poor bird that falls a victim into its jaws.
"It is better that we should have parted," said he. "Though I still love you with my whole heart, I know that it is better."
"Oh, Mr. Robinson!"
"And I would that your nuptials with that man in Aldersgate Street were already celebrated."
"Oh, you cruel, heartless man!"
"For then I should be able to rest. If you were once another\'s, I should then know—"
"You would know what, Mr. Robinson?"
"That you could never be mine. Maryanne!"
"Sir!"
"If you would not have me disgrace myself for ever by my folly, leave me now."
"Disgrace yourself! I\'m sure you\'ll never do that. \'Whatever happens George Robinson will always act the gentleman,\' I have said of you, times after times, both to father and to William Brisket. \'So he will!\' father has answered. And then William Brisket has said—; I don\'t know whether I ought to tell you what he said. But what he said was this—\'If you\'re so fond of the fellow, why don\'t............