Her master having once again departed on his travels, Mrs. Turvey had plenty of leisure to attend to her own business, and the most important business she had on hand was Jabez.

If the elderly clerk of Messrs. Grigg and Limpet had some reason to complain of Mr. Gurth Egerton coming home in the unexpected manner which has been fully related in the earlier chapters of this veracious narrative, he had also cause to complain of his equally abrupt departure, for it left him completely at the housekeeper’s mercy.

She gave him no peace. She pursued him, to use one of his own poetic images, like the hunter pursues the deer; and really, in the way Jabez endeavoured to evade the Nimrod in petticoats, he was uncommonly like that timid quadruped.

If he saw her at the top of the street he dodged round a corner and ran. If she called at the office, he hid and sent word he was out. Perhaps this latter practice is hardly in keeping with the habits of the deer, and therefore the simile breaks down. Jabez broke down at last. He gave in, as a weak-minded man always does if he is only resolutely hunted by a plucky sportswoman.

He found it better to hark back to his old tactics and dissemble; and thus it came about that during Mr. Egerton’s absence he was a frequent patron of Mr. Egerton’s tea and Mr. Egerton’s toast.

Now, upon several occasions there was a third party to these little festive gatherings, and Jabez was by no means sorry for it, though when he was introduced to the party aforesaid, and found him a railway guard and brother to his lady-love, he had a strong opinion that his presence was part of a deep-laid plot.

‘He’s to be a witness, ’thought Jabez to himself. ‘Susan’s to draw me out, and he is to hear what I say. Jabez, my boy, be on your guard—your railway guard.’

Jabez giggled at his own little joke, and he would doubtless have shone, but Mrs. Turvey had taken the shine out of him. His friends had long remarked the disappearance of his shininess. They declared him to have become remarkably dull.

One evening, when Jabez arrived by appointment, he found Mr. and Mrs. Turvey in earnest conversation. After tea Mrs. Turvey asked him, with a pleasant smile, if he would do her a favour. She particularly wanted to go out with her brother for half an lour, and she did not wish to leave the house empty.

The servant had gone out for her monthly holiday. Would Jabez kindly remain and smoke his pipe and make himself comfortable by the fire until Mrs. Turvey returned?

Mr. Turvey joined his requests to those of his sister. It was his last night in London. He had left his old employment as a railway guard, and was going into business in the north of England. His sister was just going to help him pack up his traps, etc., for he’d lost his right hand, Miss Topsey having gone out to service as a nursemaid.

Jabez was quite willing to oblige without such a long explanation.

In fact, an idea had suddenly occurred to Mr. Duck which rendered him personally anxious to be left alone in Gurth Egerton’s house.

When the brother and sister were gone, not without sundry injunctions from the lady to Jabez to be careful and not to be frightened of noises and ghosts, etc., that gentleman, instead of lighting his pipe and sitting down to a comfortable smoke, hunted about, found a candle, lit it, and stood still, in an attitude of deep consideration.

‘I’ll search the house from top to bottom but I’ll find’em, if they ain’t locked up,’ he said. ‘At any rate I can read’em, and see how far I have committed myself.’

Having first carefully examined the sitting-room, looked in all the cupboards, boxes, and chimney ornaments, Jabez proceeded, caudle in haud, to find out where Mrs. Turvey’s other apartments were situated.

It was a very improper proceeding on his part—a mean and despicable trick, which should have caused him to blush, and which will, I am sure, gentle reader, cause you to blush for him. I will not attempt to palliate his offence. It was shocking, but he did it; and we are compelled, in our position of faithful chronicler and attentive reader, to look on. But we have recorded our protest, and done our duty so far. Jabez soon found the room dedicated to the slumbers of his Susan.

It was full of little boxes and baskets, all of which Jabez deliberately rummaged in his search for something which he had set his heart on finding.

But his diligence was not rewarded.

The time passed on, and his search grew hurried. He did not know how much longer he would be undisturbed. Susan had a latch-key, and could let herself in at any minute.

He would put up the chain at the front door. He could easily say he was nervous.

The idea was no sooner conceived than it was carried out. Now, he was secure from surprise. Now, he could continue his investigations without alarm.

Routing about, Jabez dragged some boxes out of a corner. One was a trunk—one of those old-fashioned mottled-paper covered trunks, which servants used when their dresses were made without flounces and could be folded small.

Holding the candle, and peering down, he was astonished to find a key in the lock. It was one of a bunch: there were a dozen on the ring.

‘Hum!’ exclaimed Jabez; ‘here’s a bit of luck. Now if I only knew where those precious letters are, I could get them as easy as anything.’

Inside the trunk there was something which excited Jabez’s curiosity directly. It was a cash-box, and it was locked.

‘There!’ he muttered; ‘that’s where she keeps her savings. I wonder what she’s got. Perhaps the letters are there.’ He rattled the box, but there was no responding chink.

He took the keys and tried them one after the other.

The last one fitted.

He turned it, and the secrets of Mrs. Turvey’s cash-box were at his mercy.

He lifted the lid and examined the contents. At first a look of astonishment overspread his features, and then the long-absent shine came back to his face once more. It broadened and spread over his bald head—it deepened and wrapped him in one vast smile of joy.

He drew a long breath, closed the box, put it carefully away, and then executed a small war-dance all to himself, knocking over two chairs and causing the toilet-table to rock in response to his elephantine gambols.

‘Hang the letters!’ he exclaimed; ‘I don’t want’em now. Who’d a thought it? Who’d a thought it?’

Who, indeed, Mr. Jabez?

Who could have imagined that hidden away in her cash-box Mrs. Turvey had the savings of a lifetime, all invested in substantial securities, with interest-bearing coupons payable to bearer, and amounting to the good round sum of one thousand pounds?

‘Oh, she’s a deep un!’ exclaimed Jabez, mopping his shiny brow; ‘she isn’t artful at all! Oh no; certainly not. Ah, Susan, my dear, if you’d only have told me this, what a lot of trouble you would have saved yourself and me. A thousand pounds! It’s yours, Jabez, my boy. It’s in your pocket. I can feel it there.’

Jabez gave his pocket an anticipatory pat of approval. Then he put everything tidy, blew out the candle, took the chain down from the front-door, and seated himself by the parlour fire, the prettiest picture of innocence and contentment imaginable.

In about an hour Susan returned. She was loud in her apologies, but Jabez silenced her at once. In his most winning manner he assisted her off with her shawl. He was so agreeable Mrs. Turvey looked round to see if he’d found the whisky bottle.

‘Sit down, Susan, my love; I have something to say to you,’ he whispered, leading Mrs. Turvey to a seat.

Then he poured out his affections. Then, with all the poetry he was capable of without referring to his Complete Edition of the Poets at home, he told the astonished spinster how his cold and cruel conduct had been a cloak under which he disguised his real sentiments! How he had deceived her in order to test the reality of her affection for him!

Mrs. Turvey was completely nonplussed. It was so unexpected But she was too wise a woman to play the prude now. She had angled too long for her fish to hesitate about bringing it to the bank when it had bitten.

There and then Jabez received the assurance of complete forgiveness, there and then all differences were cleared up, the happy day more than hinted at, and the contract sealed with a solid and substantial kiss, that sounded through the great house and echoed along the untrodden corridors.

Singing to himself and shining on everyone, Jabez trotted home that evening in the seventh heaven of delight. A great trouble—the fear of an action for breach and publicity for his poetic effusions—had vanished, and he had found his hitherto repugnant lady-love an heiress blessed with a thousand golden charms.

Jabez was so polite and agreeable that evening at home that Georgina was quite astonished. She also noticed the sudden reappearance of his long-lost shininess.

She teased him; but it was no good—he shone. She contra-dieted him—he shone. She gave him a piece of dry cheese and some flat beer left from dinner for his supper—he shone. She turned the gas off at the meter and went to bed early, leaving him alone with the candle in the parlour, but still he shone. And after Georgina had retired, he pulled the guttering scrap of candle allowed him nearer to his elbow, produced a lead-pencil and a piece of paper, and commenced to compose an advertisement:

MR. JABEZ DUCK, for many years CONFIDENTIAL CLERK with Messrs. GRIGG & LIMPET, begs to inform the Nobility and Gentry he has OPENED a PRIVATE INQUIRY OFFICE. Investigations conducted with the Greatest Secrecy and Dispatch.’

To start a private inquiry office, have secrets poured into his ear, and to revel in an atmosphere of mystery, was the dream of his life.

Susan and her thousand would enable him to turn his dream into an absolute reality.