Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 2).djvu/270

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For an Old Debt.
271


Young Phil.
Sim repeated, in an absent sort of way, "for his father's sake," and then they parted for the night.

Young Phil had taken up his quarters at the Hadlow Arms, the principal inn in the village; and for the next month or so was a frequent visitor at the old carpenter's shop. He was a frank, manly sort of young fellow, and made friends wherever he went. On the second day of his stay he had slipped an envelope into his uncle's hand. It was from his father, he said. Sim was to open it when he was alone. Obeying this request, he found within a slip of paper, on which were written these words only—"For an old debt." Enclosed with this was a draft for £100. Sim went to a cupboard in the shop, unlocked the door, and took out a cabinet, thickly covered with dust—the cabinet upon which he had worked so long since, and which was still unfinished. He opened one of the drawers, took therefrom a document, enclosed the slip of paper and the draft along with this in an envelope, and wrote across it the same words contained in his brother's message—"For an old debt." The document contained the signatures of Messrs. Bedders, the brewers, in satisfaction of a sum of £50 paid to them some years since by Simeon Pentreath, on behalf of Philip Pentreath, his brother. He put the envelope in the drawer, and returned the cabinet to its hiding-place.


"Do you regret my visit?"

Phil and Mary were naturally thrown very much together during this time, and seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in each other's society. One could not help admiring Mary, you see, and—well, between young couples who can prevent sympathy? With declining years Sim had become lynx-eyed; but whether saw this growing feeling cannot positively be affirmed. Only, that old wound of his occasionally gave him greater trouble.

Phil's visit was drawing to a close. He came to the shop one evening. Sim was asleep in his arm-chair.

"Mary," said Phil, "do you regret my visit to England?"

Mary opened her sweet blue eyes in astonishment.

"Why should I, Phil?" she answered simply.

"Well, I don't know; but I sometimes think Uncle Sim does."