Part 93 (1/2)

It was about this time that Judge Merlin was heard often to complain of the great acc.u.mulation of correspondence upon his hands.

Ishmael, ever ready to be useful, modestly tendered his services to a.s.sist.

After a little hesitation, the judge thanked the youth and accepted his offer. And the next day Ishmael was installed in a comfortable leather chair in the library, with his crutch beside him and a writing table covered with letters to be read and answered before him. These letters were all open, and each had a word or a line penciled upon it indicating the character of the answer that was to be given. Upon some was simply written the word ”No”; upon others, ”Yes”; upon others again, ”Call on me when I come to town”; and so forth. All this, of course, Ishmael had to put into courteous language, using his own judgment after reading the letters.

Of course it was the least important part of his correspondence that Judge Merlin put into his young a.s.sistant's hands; but, notwithstanding that, the trust was a very responsible one. Even Ishmael doubted whether he could discharge such unfamiliar duties with satisfaction to his employer.

He worked diligently all that day, however, and completed the task that had been laid out for him before the bell rung for the late dinner. Then he arose and respectfully called the judge's attention to the finished work, and bowed and left the room.

With something like curiosity and doubt the judge went up to the table and opened and read three or four of the letters written for him by his young amanuensis. And as he read, surprise and pleasure lighted up his countenance.

”The boy is a born diplomatist! I should not wonder if the world should hear of him some day, after all!” he said, as he read letter after letter that had been left unsealed for his optional perusal. In these letters he found his own hard ”No's” expressed with a courtesy that softened them even to the most bitterly disappointed; his arrogant ”Yes's,” with a delicacy that could not wound the self-love of the most sensitive pet.i.tioner; and his intermediate, doubtful answers rendered with a clearness of which by their very nature they seemed incapable.

”The boy is a born diplomatist,” repeated the judge in an accession of astonishment.

But he was wrong in his judgment of Ishmael. If the youth's style of writing was gracious, courteous, delicate, it was because his inmost nature was pure, refined, and benignant. If his letters denying favors soothed rather than offended the applicant, and of those granting favors flattered rather than humiliated the pet.i.tioner, it was because of that angelic attribute of Ishmael's soul that made it so painful to him to give pain, so delightful to impart delight. There was no thought of diplomatic dealing in all Ishmael's truthful soul.

The judge was excessively pleased with his young a.s.sistant. Judge Merlin was an excellent lawyer, but no orator, and never had been, nor could be one. He had not himself the gift of eloquence either in speaking or writing; and, therefore, perhaps he was the more astonished and pleased to find it in the possession of his letter-writer. He was pleased to have his correspondence well written, for it reflected credit upon himself.

Under the influence of his surprise and pleasure he took up his hand full of letters and went directly to Ishmael's room. He found the youth seated in his arm-chair engaged in reading.

”What have you there?” inquired Judge Merlin.

Ishmael smiled and turned the t.i.tle-page to his questioner.

”Humph! 'c.o.ke upon Lyttleton.' Lay it down, Ishmael, and attend to me,”

said the judge, drawing a chair and seating himself beside the youth.

Ishmael immediately closed the book and gave the most respectful attention.

”I am very much pleased with the manner in which you have accomplished your task, Ishmael. You have done your work remarkably well! So well that I should like to give you longer employment,” he said.

Ishmael's heart leaped in his bosom.

”Thank you, sir; I am very glad you are satisfied with me,” he replied.

”Let us see now, this is the fifteenth of October; I shall remain here until the first of December, when we go to town; a matter of six weeks; and I shall be glad, Ishmael, during the interval of my stay here, to retain you as my a.s.sistant. What say you?”

”Indeed, sir, I shall feel honored and happy in serving you.”

”I will give you what I consider a fair compensation for so young a beginner. By the way, how old are you?”

”I shall be nineteen in December.”

”Very well; I will give you twenty dollars a month and your board.”

”Judge Merlin,” said Ishmael, as his pale face flushed crimson, ”I shall feel honored and happy in serving you; but from you I cannot consent to receive any compensation.”

The judge stared at the speaker with astonishment that took all power of reply away; but Ishmael continued: