Mortomley's Estate: A Novel. Vol. 2 (of 3)Riddell, J. H., Mrs.
General
Mortomley's Estate: A Novel. Vol. 2 (of 3)
Riddell, J. H., Mrs.
Bankruptcy -- Fiction; England -- Fiction
"Oh! that's the chap, is it?" replied Mr. Hankins. "Well, he may ask me
as many questions as he likes;" and as one who smelleth the battle afar
off, Mr. Hankins stepped out of his sentry-box, and walked in a
_débonnaire_ manner across the yard to meet the visitors.
"Who was that went out just now?" inquired Mr. Forde.
"Our manager, sir."
"Fetch him back. I want him."
Mr. Hankins went rapidly enough to the outer gate, and passed into the
road, where he saw Lang turning a not remote corner.
Hearing the gate slam, Lang looked round and would have paused, but
Hankins made him a sign to proceed. Then Hankins, having hurried to the
corner, took up a position which commanded a good view of his friend's
retreating figure; and it was only when Lang was out of sight that he
retraced his steps to the door where, as he expected, Mr. Forde was
waiting for him.
"I couldn't overtake him, sir," he said, panting a little as if he had
made mighty efforts to do so.
"Humph!" exclaimed Mr. Forde; "I'll be bound I could have overtaken
him."
"I don't think you could, sir."
"And who asked you to think, pray?" inquired Mr. Forde.
"No one, sir. I beg your pardon; I won't do it again."
Mr. Forde looked at the man to see if he was making game of him, but
there was not a suspicion of a smile on Mr. Hankins' self-sufficient
face.
"And who are you, sir?" inquired Mr. Forde, in the tone of a man who
meant, "Now don't try to trifle with me or it will be the worse for
you."
"Oh! I am foreman here," answered Mr. Hankins.
When he repeated this conversation afterwards, which he did many and
many a time to admiring and appreciative audiences, he stated that when
Mr. Forde began to "sir" him, he said to himself, "If you are going to
get up it's time I got down, as the Irishman said when his pony got his
foot in the stirrup."
"This seems a remarkably well-conducted business," observed Mr. Forde
with a sneer.
"Well, I don't think it is what it once was," admitted Mr. Hankins with
a touching modesty. "We do what we can, but since the governor's health
has taken to failing, I am free to confess our colours ain't what they
used to be."
And Mr. Hankins picked up a leaf and began to chew the stalk in a manner
calculated to inspire confidence in his companion's bosom.
"Your colours are not what they used to be, then?" remarked Mr. Forde,
imagining he was leading the man on.
"No, they ain't, sir. Not a day passes but we have a complaint or
returns or a deuce of a row about the change in quality. And things were
never like that when the governor was at his best. Ay, it was a bad day
for Homewood when he quitted his old connection and took up with new
people."
Now Mr. Forde believed this remark referred to Mr. Mortomley's new
customers, and Mr. Kleinwort having by this time approached the pair,
drew by a look his attention to the conversation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Mortomley's Estate: A Novel. Vol. 2 (of 3) — John Shaqi
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