Chapter 4

by Herman Melville

　　RENEWAL OF OLD ACQUAINTANCE."How do you do, Mr. Roberts?""Eh?""Don't you know me?""No, certainly."The crowd about the captain's office, having in good time melted away,the above encounter took place in one of the side balconies astern,between a man in mourning clean and respectable, but none of theglossiest, a long weed on his hat, and the country-merchantbefore-mentioned, whom, with the familiarity of an old acquaintance, theformer had accosted."Is it possible, my dear sir," resumed he with the weed, "that you donot recall my countenance? why yours I recall distinctly as if but halfan hour, instead of half an age, had passed since I saw you. Don't yourecall me, now? Look harder.""In my conscience--truly--I protest," honestly bewildered, "bless mysoul, sir, I don't know you--really, really. But stay, stay," hehurriedly added, not without gratification, glancing up at the crape onthe stranger's hat, "stay--yes--seems to me, though I have not thepleasure of personally knowing you, yet I am pretty sure I have at leastheard of you, and recently too, quite recently. A poor negro aboardhere referred to you, among others, for a character, I think.""Oh, the cripple. Poor fellow. I know him well. They found me. I havesaid all I could for him. I think I abated their distrust. Would I couldhave been of more substantial service. And apropos, sir," he added, "nowthat it strikes me, allow me to ask, whether the circumstance of oneman, however humble, referring for a character to another man, howeverafflicted, does not argue more or less of moral worth in the latter?"The good merchant looked puzzled."Still you don't recall my countenance?""Still does truth compel me to say that I cannot, despite my bestefforts," was the reluctantly-candid reply."Can I be so changed? Look at me. Or is it I who am mistaken?--Are younot, sir, Henry Roberts, forwarding merchant, of Wheeling, Pennsylvania?Pray, now, if you use the advertisement of business cards, and happen tohave one with you, just look at it, and see whether you are not the manI take you for.""Why," a bit chafed, perhaps, "I hope I know myself.""And yet self-knowledge is thought by some not so easy. Who knows, mydear sir, but for a time you may have taken yourself for somebody else?Stranger things have happened."The good merchant stared."To come to particulars, my dear sir, I met you, now some six yearsback, at Brade Brothers & Co's office, I think. I was traveling for aPhiladelphia house. The senior Brade introduced us, you remember; somebusiness-chat followed, then you forced me home with you to a familytea, and a family time we had. Have you forgotten about the urn, andwhat I said about Werter's Charlotte, and the bread and butter, and thatcapital story you told of the large loaf. A hundred times since, I havelaughed over it. At least you must recall my name--Ringman, JohnRingman.""Large loaf? Invited you to tea? Ringman? Ringman? Ring? Ring?""Ah sir," sadly smiling, "don't ring the changes that way. I see youhave a faithless memory, Mr. Roberts. But trust in the faithfulness ofmine.""Well, to tell the truth, in some things my memory aint of the verybest," was the honest rejoinder. "But still," he perplexedly added,"still I----""Oh sir, suffice it that it is as I say. Doubt not that we are all wellacquainted.""But--but I don't like this going dead against my own memory; I----""But didn't you admit, my dear sir, that in some things this memory ofyours is a little faithless? Now, those who have faithless memories,should they not have some little confidence in the less faithlessmemories of others?""But, of this friendly chat and tea, I have not the slightest----""I see, I see; quite erased from the tablet. Pray, sir," with a suddenillumination, "about six years back, did it happen to you to receive anyinjury on the head? Surprising effects have arisen from such a cause.Not alone unconsciousness as to events for a greater or less timeimmediately subsequent to the injury, but likewise--strange toadd--oblivion, entire and incurable, as to events embracing a longer orshorter period immediately preceding it; that is, when the mind at thetime was perfectly sensible of them, and fully competent also toregister them in the memory, and did in fact so do; but all in vain, forall was afterwards bruised out by the injury."After the first start, the merchant listened with what appeared morethan ordinary interest. The other proceeded:"In my boyhood I was kicked by a horse, and lay insensible for a longtime. Upon recovering, what a blank! No faintest trace in regard to howI had come near the horse, or what horse it was, or where it was, orthat it was a horse at all that had brought me to that pass. For theknowledge of those particulars I am indebted solely to my friends, inwhose statements, I need not say, I place implicit reliance, sinceparticulars of some sort there must have been, and why should theydeceive me? You see sir, the mind is ductile, very much so: but images,ductilely received into it, need a certain time to harden and bake intheir impressions, otherwise such a casualty as I speak of will in aninstant obliterate them, as though they had never been. We are but clay,sir, potter's clay, as the good book says, clay, feeble, andtoo-yielding clay. But I will not philosophize. Tell me, was it yourmisfortune to receive any concussion upon the brain about the period Ispeak of? If so, I will with pleasure supply the void in your memory bymore minutely rehearsing the circumstances of our acquaintance."The growing interest betrayed by the merchant had not relaxed as theother proceeded. After some hesitation, indeed, something more thanhesitation, he confessed that, though he had never received any injuryof the sort named, yet, about the time in question, he had in fact beentaken with a brain fever, losing his mind completely for a considerableinterval. He was continuing, when the stranger with much animationexclaimed:"There now, you see, I was not wholly mistaken. That brain feveraccounts for it all.""Nay; but----""Pardon me, Mr. Roberts," respectfully interrupting him, "but time isshort, and I have something private and particular to say to you. Allowme."Mr. Roberts, good man, could but acquiesce, and the two having silentlywalked to a less public spot, the manner of the man with the weedsuddenly assumed a seriousness almost painful. What might be called awrithing expression stole over him. He seemed struggling with somedisastrous necessity inkept. He made one or two attempts to speak, butwords seemed to choke him. His companion stood in humane surprise,wondering what was to come. At length, with an effort mastering hisfeelings, in a tolerably composed tone he spoke:"If I remember, you are a mason, Mr. Roberts?""Yes, yes."Averting himself a moment, as to recover from a return of agitation, thestranger grasped the other's hand; "and would you not loan a brother ashilling if he needed it?"The merchant started, apparently, almost as if to retreat."Ah, Mr. Roberts, I trust you are not one of those business men, whomake a business of never having to do with unfortunates. For God's sakedon't leave me. I have something on my heart--on my heart. Underdeplorable circumstances thrown among strangers, utter strangers. I wanta friend in whom I may confide. Yours, Mr. Roberts, is almost the firstknown face I've seen for many weeks."It was so sudden an outburst; the interview offered such a contrast tothe scene around, that the merchant, though not used to be veryindiscreet, yet, being not entirely inhumane, remained not entirelyunmoved.The other, still tremulous, resumed:"I need not say, sir, how it cuts me to the soul, to follow up a socialsalutation with such words as have just been mine. I know that Ijeopardize your good opinion. But I can't help it: necessity knows nolaw, and heeds no risk. Sir, we are masons, one more step aside; I willtell you my story."In a low, half-suppressed tone, he began it. Judging from his auditor'sexpression, it seemed to be a tale of singular interest, involvingcalamities against which no integrity, no forethought, no energy, nogenius, no piety, could guard.At every disclosure, the hearer's commiseration increased. Nosentimental pity. As the story went on, he drew from his wallet a banknote, but after a while, at some still more unhappy revelation, changedit for another, probably of a somewhat larger amount; which, when thestory was concluded, with an air studiously disclamatory of alms-giving,he put into the stranger's hands; who, on his side, with an airstudiously disclamatory of alms-taking, put it into his pocket.Assistance being received, the stranger's manner assumed a kind anddegree of decorum which, under the circumstances, seemed almostcoldness. After some words, not over ardent, and yet not exactlyinappropriate, he took leave, making a bow which had one knows not whatof a certain chastened independence about it; as if misery, howeverburdensome, could not break down self-respect, nor gratitude, howeverdeep, humiliate a gentleman.He was hardly yet out of sight, when he paused as if thinking; then withhastened steps returning to the merchant, "I am just reminded that thepresident, who is also transfer-agent, of the Black Rapids Coal Company,happens to be on board here, and, having been subpoenaed as witness in astock case on the docket in Kentucky, has his transfer-book with him. Amonth since, in a panic contrived by artful alarmists, some credulousstock-holders sold out; but, to frustrate the aim of the alarmists, theCompany, previously advised of their scheme, so managed it as to getinto its own hands those sacrificed shares, resolved that, since aspurious panic must be, the panic-makers should be no gainers by it. TheCompany, I hear, is now ready, but not anxious, to redispose of thoseshares; and having obtained them at their depressed value, will now sellthem at par, though, prior to the panic, they were held at a handsomefigure above. That the readiness of the Company to do this is notgenerally known, is shown by the fact that the stock still stands on thetransfer-book in the Company's name, offering to one in funds a rarechance for investment. For, the panic subsiding more and more every day,it will daily be seen how it originated; confidence will be more thanrestored; there will be a reaction; from the stock's descent its risewill be higher than from no fall, the holders trusting themselves tofear no second fate."Having listened at first with curiosity, at last with interest, themerchant replied to the effect, that some time since, through friendsconcerned with it, he had heard of the company, and heard well of it,but was ignorant that there had latterly been fluctuations. He addedthat he was no speculator; that hitherto he had avoided having to dowith stocks of any sort, but in the present case he really feltsomething like being tempted. "Pray," in conclusion, "do you think thatupon a pinch anything could be transacted on board here with thetransfer-agent? Are you acquainted with him?""Not personally. I but happened to hear that he was a passenger. For therest, though it might be somewhat informal, the gentleman might notobject to doing a little business on board. Along the Mississippi, youknow, business is not so ceremonious as at the East.""True," returned the merchant, and looked down a moment in thought,then, raising his head quickly, said, in a tone not so benign as hiswonted one, "This would seem a rare chance, indeed; why, upon firsthearing it, did you not snatch at it? I mean for yourself!""I?--would it had been possible!"Not without some emotion was this said, and not without someembarrassment was the reply. "Ah, yes, I had forgotten."Upon this, the stranger regarded him with mild gravity, not a littledisconcerting; the more so, as there was in it what seemed the aspectnot alone of the superior, but, as it were, the rebuker; which sort ofbearing, in a beneficiary towards his benefactor, looked strangelyenough; none the less, that, somehow, it sat not altogether unbecominglyupon the beneficiary, being free from anything like the appearance ofassumption, and mixed with a kind of painful conscientiousness, asthough nothing but a proper sense of what he owed to himself swayed him.At length he spoke:"To reproach a penniless man with remissness in not availing himself ofan opportunity for pecuniary investment--but, no, no; it wasforgetfulness; and this, charity will impute to some lingering effect ofthat unfortunate brain-fever, which, as to occurrences dating yetfurther back, disturbed Mr. Roberts's memory still more seriously.""As to that," said the merchant, rallying, "I am not----""Pardon me, but you must admit, that just now, an unpleasant distrust,however vague, was yours. Ah, shallow as it is, yet, how subtle a thingis suspicion, which at times can invade the humanest of hearts andwisest of heads. But, enough. My object, sir, in calling your attentionto this stock, is by way of acknowledgment of your goodness. I but seekto be grateful; if my information leads to nothing, you must rememberthe motive."He bowed, and finally retired, leaving Mr. Roberts not wholly withoutself-reproach, for having momentarily indulged injurious thoughtsagainst one who, it was evident, was possessed of a self-respect whichforbade his indulging them himself.