Part 6 (1/2)
”No, don't go,” cried Anson, springing forward and grasping his arm.
”Let go!” cried West. ”I don't want to be mixed up with any quarrels; but you might have got them over outside. There, I'm off.”
”Stop where you are!” cried Ingleborough. ”You have a perfect right to hear what I have said, and you're welcome.”
”Yes, stop where you are, West,” cried Anson, clinging to the young fellow's arm. ”I believe that the war scare has sent Ingle off his head. You never heard such a bit of scandal as he is trying to hatch up. I believe it's all out of jealousy.”
”No, you do not,” said Ingleborough coldly.
”But I do,” cried Anson. ”It's scandalous. He's trying to ruin me.”
”How?”
”By hatching up a story which, if it got to the princ.i.p.als' ears, would mean me being turned off neck and crop, no matter how innocent I am.”
”How what?” replied Ingleborough ironically. ”Innocent? Why, I've suspected you for some months past.”
”Oh, my gracious!” cried Anson. ”Hark at him! He does mean it--he must mean it, unless we can bring him to his senses, West. You will help me, won't you?”
”How can I tell till I know what it's all about? What's the quarrel, Ingle?”
”Ask him,” answered the young man addressed, frowning.
”Very well, then; I'll ask him. What's the row, Anson?”
”I have hardly patience to tell you, West,” was the reply. ”But I suppose I must, though it makes my face burn with shame.”
”Humph!” grunted Ingleborough.
”Then it is something you are ashamed of?” said West quickly.
”Me? Oh no, West; I'm not ashamed. I've nothing to be ashamed of: only being accused by a fellow-clerk, a brother-clerk, I might say, of doing a terrible thing.”
”And did you?” said West sharply.
”I? Good gracious, no! I was out in the main street about half-an-hour ago, being of course interested in the news, when I saw a couple of Kaffirs talking, and it made me wonder what would become of them if it came to fighting, and I naturally enough asked the poor fellows whether they'd stay in Kimberley or go back to their own country.”
”Well?” said West, for the speaker stopped.
”Well, that's all as far as I'm concerned,” said Anson; ”only just then Ingleborough, who is never happy without he's mixing himself up somehow with the police folk, and who must have been watching me in a miserable underhanded way, suddenly pounced upon me; and you'll never believe it, my dear West, he actually accused me of illicit-diamond-buying from the Kaffirs.”
”And that means very severe punishment,” said West. ”Well, were you doing it?”
”Was I? Oh, for shame, West! How could you think such a thing possible? My dear fellow, I couldn't do such a thing? Is it likely?”
”Ingleborough says it is,” replied the young man addressed, shortly.
”Yes, but only because he is absurdly jealous of me, and dislikes to see me in the office. It would ruin me for ever if it were reported, and he says he is going to, although I have been begging and praying him not to do such a thing. What do you say?”
”If it's true, and Ingleborough says it is, I don't see how he could help, reporting your conduct to the directors.”