Chapter XXVI--A Noble Offer

by Bram Stoker

　　That day Harold passed in unutterable gloom. The reaction was strongon him; and all his woe, his bitter remembrance of the past and hisdesolation for the future, were with him unceasingly.In the dusk of the evening he wandered out to his favourite spot, thecable-tank on top of the aft wheelhouse. Here he had been all alone,and his loneliness had the added advantage that from the isolatedelevation he could see if anyone approached. He had been out thereduring the day, and the Captain, who had noticed his habit had hadrigged up a canvas dodger on the rail on the weather side. When hesat down on the coiled hawsers in the tank he was both secluded andsheltered. In this peaceful corner his thoughts ran freely and insympathy with the turmoil of wind and wave.How unfair it all was! Why had he been singled out for such misery?What gleam of hope or comfort was left to his miserable life since hehad heard the words of Stephen; those dreadful words which hadshattered in an instant all the cherished hopes of his life. Toowell he remembered the tone and look of scorn with which the horribletruths had been conveyed to him. In his inmost soul he accepted themas truths; Stephen's soul had framed them and Stephen's lips had sentthem forth.From his position behind the screen he did not see the approachingfigure of Mr. Stonehouse, and was astonished when he saw his headrise above the edge of the tank as he climbed the straight Jacob'sladder behind the wheelhouse. The elder man paused as he saw him andsaid in an apologetic way:'Will you forgive my intruding on your privacy? I wanted to speak toyou alone; and as I saw you come here a while ago I thought it wouldbe a good opportunity.' Harold was rising as he spoke.'By all means. This place is common property. But all the same I amhonoured in your seeking me.' The poor fellow wished to be genial;but despite his efforts there was a strange formality in theexpression of his words. The elder man understood, and said as hehurried forward and sank beside him:'Pray don't stir! Why, what a cosy corner this is. I don't believeat this moment there is such peace in the ship!'Once again the bitterness of Harold's heart broke out in suddenwords:'I hope not! There is no soul on board to whom I could wish suchevil!' The old man said as he laid his hand softly on the other'sshoulder:'God help you, my poor boy, if such pain is in your heart!' Mr.Stonehouse looked out at the sea, at last turning his face to himagain he spoke:'If you feel that I intrude on you I earnestly ask you to forgive me;but I think that the years between your age and mine as well as myfeeling towards the great obligation which I owe you will plead forexcuse. There is something I would like to say to you, sir; but Isuppose I must not without your permission. May I have it?''If you wish, sir. I can at least hear it.'The old man bowed and went on:'I could not but notice that you have some great grief bearing uponyou; and from one thing or another--I can tell you the data if youwish me to do so--I have come to the conclusion that you are leavingyour native land because of it.' Here Harold, wakened to amazementby the readiness with which his secret had been divined, saidquickly, rather as an exclamation than interrogation:'How on earth did you know that!' His companion, taking it as aquery, answered:'Sir, at your age and with your strength life should be a joy; andyet you are sad: Companionship should be a pleasure; yet you prefersolitude. That you are brave and unselfish I know; I have reason,thank God! to know it. That you are kindly and tolerant is apparentfrom your bearing to my little child this morning; as well as yourgoodness of last night, the remembrance of which her mother and Iwill bear to our graves; and to me now. I have not lived all theseyears without having had trouble in my own heart; and although thehappiness of late years has made it dim, my gratitude to you who areso sad brings it all back to me.' He bowed, and Harold, wishing toavoid speaking of his sorrow, said:'You are quite right so far as I have a sorrow; and it is because ofit I have turned my back on home. Let it rest at that!' Hiscompanion bowed gravely and went on.'I take it that you are going to begin life afresh in the newcountry. In such case I have a proposition to make. I have a largebusiness; a business so large that I am unable to manage it allmyself. I was intending that when I arrived at home I would setabout finding a partner. The man I want is not an ordinary man. Hemust have brains and strength and daring.' He paused. Harold feltwhat was coming, but realised, as he jumped at the conclusion, thatit would not do for him to take for granted that he was the mansought. He waited; Mr. Stonehouse went on:'As to brains, I am prepared to take the existence of such on my ownjudgment. I have been reading men, and in this aspect specially, allmy life. The man I have thought of has brains. I am satisfied ofthat, without proof. I have proof of the other qualities.' Hepaused again; as Harold said nothing he continued in a manner ill atease:'My difficulty is to make the proposal to the man I want. It is sodifficult to talk business to a man to whom you under greatobligation; to whom you owe everything. He might take a friendlyoverture ill.' There was but one thing to be said and Harold saidit. His heart warmed to the kindly old man and he wished to sparehim pain; even if he could not accept him proposition:'He couldn't take it ill; unless he was an awful bounder.''It was you I thought of!''I thought so much, sir;' said Harold after a pause, 'and I thank youearnestly and honestly. But it is impossible.''Oh, my dear sir!' said the other, chagrined as well as surprised.'Think again! It is really worth your while to think of it, nomatter what your ultimate decision may be!'Harold shook his head. There was a long silence. The old man wishedto give his companion time to think; and indeed he thought thatHarold was weighing the proposition in his mind. As for Harold, hewas thinking how best he could make his absolute refusal inoffensive.He must, he felt, give some reason; and his thoughts were bent on howmuch of the truth he could safely give without endangering hissecret. Therefore he spoke at last in general terms:'I can only ask you, sir, to bear with me and to believe that I amvery truly and sincerely grateful to you for your trust. But thefact is, I cannot go anywhere amongst people. Of course youunderstand that I am speaking in confidence; to you alone and to noneother?''Absolutely!' said Mr. Stonehouse gravely. Harold went on:'I must be alone. I can only bear to see people on this ship becauseit is a necessary way to solitude.''You "cannot go anywhere amongst people"! Pardon me. I don't wishto be unduly inquisitive; but on my word I fail to understand!'Harold was in a great difficulty. Common courtesy alone forbade thathe should leave the matter where it was; and in addition both themagnificently generous offer which had been made to him, and the wayin which accident had thrown him to such close intimacy with Pearl'sfamily, required that he should be at least fairly frank. At last ina sort of cold desperation he said:'I cannot meet anyone . . . There it something that happened . . .Something I did . . . Nothing can make it right . . . All I can do isto lose myself in the wildest, grimmest, wilderness in the world; andfight my pain . . . my shame . . . !'A long silence. Then the old man's voice came clear and sweet,something like music, in the shelter from the storm:'But perhaps time may mend things. God is very good . . . !' Haroldanswered out of the bitterness of his heart. He felt that his wordswere laden with an anger which he did not feel, but he did not seehis way to alter them:'Nothing can mend this thing! It is at the farthest point of evil;and there is no going on or coming back. Nothing can wipe out whatis done; what is past!'Again silence, and again the strong, gentle voice:'God can do much! Oh my dear young friend, you who have been such afriend to me and mine, think of this.''God Himself can do nothing here! It is done! And that is the end!'He turned his head; it was all he could do to keep from groaning.The old man's voice vibrated with earnest conviction as he spoke:'You are young and strong and brave! Your heart is noble! You canthink quickly in moments of peril; therefore your brain is sound andalert. Now, may I ask you a favour? it is not much. Only that youwill listen, without interruption, to what, if I have yourpermission, I am going to say. Do not ask me anything; do not deny;do not interrupt! Only listen! May I ask this?''By all means! It is not much!' he almost felt like smiling as hespoke. Mr. Stonehouse, after a short pause, as if arranging histhoughts, spoke:'Let me tell you what I am. I began life with nothing but a faireducation such as all our American boys get. But from a good motherI got an idea that to be honest was the best of all things; from astrenuous father, who, however, could not do well for himself, Ilearned application to work and how best to use and exercise suchpowers as were in me. From the start things prospered with me. Menwho knew me trusted me; some came with offers to share in myenterprise. Thus I had command of what capital I could use; I wasable to undertake great works and to carry them through. Fortunekept growing and growing; for as I got wealthier I found newer andlarger and more productive uses for my money. And in all my work Ican say before God I never willingly wronged any man. I am proud tobe able to say that my name stands good wherever it has been used.It may seem egotistical that I say such things of myself. It mayseem bad taste; but I speak because I have a motive in so doing. Iwant you to understand at the outset that in my own country, whereverI am known and in my own work, my name is a strength.'He paused a while. Harold sat still; he knew that such man wouldnot, could not, speak in such a way without a strong motive; and tolearn that motive he waited.'When you were in the water making what headway you could in thatawful sea--when my little child's life hung in the balance, and theanguish of my wife's heart nearly tore my heart in two, I said tomyself, "If we had a son I should wish him to be like that." I meantit then, and I mean it now! Come to me as you are! Faults, andpast, and all. Forget the past! Whatever it was we will togethertry to wipe it out. Much may be done in restoring where there hasbeen any wrong-doing. Take my name as your own. It will protect youfrom the result of what ever has been, and give you an opportunity tofind your place again. You are not bad in heart I know. Whateveryou have done has not been from base motives. Few of us are spotlessas to facts. You and I will show ourselves--for unless God wills tothe opposite we shall confide in none other--that a strong, brave manmay win back all that was lost. Let me call you by my name and holdyou as the son of my heart; and it will be a joy and pleasure to mydeclining years.'As he had spoken, Harold's thought's had at first followed in somewonderment. But gradually, as his noble purpose unfolded, based asit was on a misconception as to the misdoing of which he himself hadspoken, he had been almost stricken dumb. At the first realisationof what was intended he could not have spoken had he tried; but atthe end he had regained his thoughts and his voice. There was stillwonderment in it, as realising from the long pause that the old manhad completed his suggestion, he spoke:'If I understand aright you are offering me your name! Offering toshare your honour with me. With me, whom, if again I understand, youtake as having committed some crime?''I inferred from what you said and from your sadness, your desire toshun your kind, that there was, if not a crime, some fault whichneeded expiation.''But your honour, sir; your honour!' There was a proud look in theold man's eyes as he said quietly:'It was my desire, is my desire, to share with you what I have thatis best; and that, I take it, is not the least valuable of mypossessions, such as they are! And why not? You have given to meall that makes life sweet; without which it would be unbearable.That child who came to my wife and me when I was old and she hadpassed her youth is all in all to us both. Had your strength andcourage been for barter in the moments when my child was quiveringbetween life and death, I would have cheerfully purchased them withnot half but all! Sir, I should have given my soul! I can say thisnow, for gratitude is above all barter; and surely it is allowed to afather to show gratitude for the life of his child!'This great-hearted generosity touched Harold to the quick. He couldhardly speak for a few minutes. Then instinctively grasping the oldman's hand he said:'You overwhelm me. Such noble trust and generosity as you have shownme demands a return of trust. But I must think! Will you remainhere and let me return to you in a little while?'He rose quickly and slipped down the iron ladder, passing into thedarkness and the mist and the flying spray.