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Page 14
Meanwhile the yellow-haired Scandinavian, whom we have already laid
under the imputation of being a dandy, stood on the threshold of Mr.
Dyke's office, and that gentleman confronted him with a singularly
inquisitive stare. The visitor's face was a striking one, but can be
described, for the present, only in general terms. He might not be
called handsome; yet a very handsome man would be apt to appear
insignificant beside him. His features showed strength, and were at
the same time cleanly and finely cut. There was freedom in the arch
of his eyebrows, and plenty of eye-room beneath them.
He took off his hat to Mr. Dyke, and smiled at him with artless
superiority, insomuch that the elderly clerk's sixty years were
disconcerted, and the Cerberus seemed to dwindle into the bumpkin!
This young fellow, a good deal less than half Mr. Dyke's age, was yet
a far older man of the world than he. Not that his appearance
suggested the kind of maturity which results from abnormal or
distorted development,--on the contrary, he was thoroughly genial and
healthful. But that power and assurance of eye and lip, generally
bought only at the price of many years' buffetings, given and taken,
were here married to the first flush and vigor of young manhood.
"My name is Helwyse; I have come from Europe to see Mr. Amos
MacGentle," said the visitor, courteously.
"Helwyse!--Hel--" repeated Mr. Dyke, having seemingly quite forgotten
himself. His customary manner to strangers implied that he knew,
better than they did, who they were and what they wanted; and that
what he knew was not much to their credit. But he could only open his
mouth and stare at this Helwyse.
"Mr. MacGentle is an old friend; run in and tell him I'm here, and you
will see." The young man put his hand kindly on the elderly clerk's
shoulder, much as though the latter were a gaping school-boy, and
directed him gently towards the inner door.
Mr. Dyke regained his voice by an effort, though still lacking
complete self-command. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Helwyse, sir,--of
course, of course,--it didn't seem possible,--so long, you know,--but
I remembered the voice and the face and the name,--I never
forget,--but, by George, sir, can you really be--?"
"I see you have a good memory; you are Dyke, aren't you?" And Mr.
Helwyse threw back his head and laughed, perhaps at the clerk's
bewildered face. At all events, the latter laughed, too, and they both
shook hands very heartily.
"Beg pardon again, Mr. Helwyse, I'll speak to the President," said Mr.
Dyke, and stepped into the sanctuary of sanctuaries.
Mr. MacGentle was taking a nap. He was seventy years old, and could
drop asleep easily. When he slept, however lightly and briefly, he was
pretty sure to dream; and if awakened suddenly, his dream would often
prolong itself, and mingle with passing events, which would themselves
put on the semblance of unreality. On the present occasion the sound
of Helwyse's voice had probably crept through the door, and insinuated
itself into his dreaming brain.
Mr. Dyke was too much excited to remark the President's condition. He
put his mouth close to the old gentleman's ear, and said, in an
emphatic and penetrating undertone,--
"Here's your old friend Helwyse, who died in Europe two years ago,
come back again, _younger than ever!_"
If the confidential clerk expected his superior to echo his own
bewilderment, he was disappointed. Mr. MacGentle unclosed his eyes,
looked up, and answered rather pettishly,--
"What nonsense are you talking about his dying in Europe, Mr. Dyke? He
hasn't been in Europe for six years. I was expecting him. Let him come
in at once."
But he was already there; and Mr. Dyke slipped out again with
consternation written upon his features. Mr. MacGentle found himself
with his thin old hand in the young man's warm grasp.
"Helwyse, how do you do?--how do you do? Ah! you look as well as ever.
I was just thinking about you. Sit down,--sit down!"
The old President's voice had a strain of melancholy in it, partly the
result of chronic asthma, and partly, no doubt, of a melancholic
temperament. This strain, being constant, sometimes had a curiously
incongruous effect as contrasted with the subject or circumstances in
hand. Whether hailing the dawn of the millennium; holding playful
converse with a child, making a speech before the Board,--under
whatever rhetorical conditions, Mr. MacGentle's intonation was always
pitched in the same murmurous and somewhat plaintive key. Moreover, a
corresponding immobility of facial expression had grown upon him; so
that altogether, though he was the most sympathetic and sensitive of
men, a superficial observer might take him to be lacking in the common
feelings and impulses of humanity.
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