Chapter VII

Since he doth lack Of going back Little, whose will Doth urge him to run wrong, or to stand still. BEN JONSON.

One of the warm evenings in that summer, when the windows were all open of Winthrop's attic and the candles flared in the soft breeze from the sea, Rufus came in. Winthrop only gave him a look and a smile from his papers as he appeared; and Rufus flung himself, or rather dropped down, upon the empty couch where Winnie used to lie. Perhaps the thought of her came to him, for he looked exceedingly sober; only he had done that ever since he shewed his face at the door. For some minutes he sat in absorbed contemplation of Winthrop, or of somewhat else; he was certainly looking at him. Winthrop looked at nothing but his papers; and the rustling of them was all that was heard, beside the soft rush of the wind.

"Always at work?" said Rufus, in a dismal tone, half desponding and wholly disconsolate.

"Try to be. --"

"Why don't you snuff those candles?" was the next question, given with a good deal more life.

"I didn't know you wanted more light," said Winthrop, stopping to put in order the unruly wicks his brother referred to.

"What are you at there?"

"A long answer in chancery."

"Ryle's?"

"No -- Mr. Eversham's case."

"How does Ryle's business get on?"

"Very satisfactorily. I've got light upon that now."

"What's the last thing done?"

"The last thing I did was to file a replication, bringing the cause to an issue for proofs; and proofs are now taking before an Examiner."

"You have succeeded in every step in that cause?"

"In every step."

"The steps must have been well taken."

Winthrop was silent, going on with his 'answer.'

"How much do you expect you'll get from them?"

"Can't tell yet. I somewhat expect to recover a very large sum."

"Winthrop -- I wish I was a lawyer --" Rufus said presently with a sigh.

"Why?" said his brother calmly.

"I should -- or at least I might -- be doing something."

"Then you think all the work of the world rests upon the shoulders of lawyers? I knew they had a good deal to do, but not so much as that."

"I don't see anything for me to do," Rufus said despondingly.

Rufus got off his couch and began gloomily to walk up and down.

"How easily those who are doing well themselves can bear the ill haps of their friends!" he said.

Winthrop went back to his papers and studied them, with his usual calm face and in silence, for some time. Rufus walked and cogitated for half an hour.

"I ought not to have said that, Winthrop," were his first words. "But now look at me!"

"With pleasure," said Winthrop laying down his 'answer' -- "I have looked at many a worse man."

"Can't you be serious?" said Rufus, a provoked smile forcing itself upon him.

"I thought I was rarely anything else," said Winthrop. "But now I look at you, I don't see anything in the world the matter."

"Yet look at our different positions -- yours and mine."

"I'd as lieve be excused," said Winthrop. "You always made the best show, in any position."

"Other people don't think so," said Rufus, turning with a curious struggle of feeling in his face, and turning to hide it in his walk up and down.

"What ails you, Will? -- I don't know what you mean."

"You deserve it!" said Rufus, swallowing something in his mind apparently, that cost him some trouble.

"I don't know what I deserve," said Winthrop gravely. "I am afraid I have not got it."

"How oddly and rightly we were nicknamed in childhood!" Rufus went on bitterly, half communing with himself. -- "I for fiery impulse, and you for calm rule."

"I don't want to rule," said Winthrop half laughing. "And I assure you I make no effort after it."

"You do it, and always will. You have the love and respect and admiration of everybody that knows you -- in a very high degree; and there is not a soul in the world that cares for me, except yourself."

"I do not think that is true, Will," said Winthrop after a little pause. "But even suppose it were -- those are not the things one lives for."

"What _does_ one live for then!" Rufus said almost fiercely.

"At least they are not what I live for," said Winthrop correcting himself.

"What do _you_ live for?"

His brother hesitated.

"For another sort of approbation -- That I may hear 'Well done,' from the lips of my King, -- by and by."

Rufus bit his lip and for several turns walked the room in silence -- evidently because he could not speak. Perhaps the words, 'Them that honour me, I will honour,' -- might have come to his mind. But when at last he began to talk, it was not upon that theme.

"Governor," -- he said in a quieter tone, -- "I wish you would help me."

"I will -- if I can."

"Tell me what I shall do."

"Tell me your own thoughts first, Will."

"I have hardly any. The world at large seems a wretched and utter blank to me."

"Make your mark on it, then."

"Ah! -- that is what we used to say. -- I don't see how it is to be done."

"It is to be done in many ways, Rufus; in many courses of action; and there is hardly one you can set your hand to, in which it may not be done."

Rufus again struggled with some feeling that was too much for him.

"Your notions have changed a little from the old ones, -- and I have kept mine," he said.

"I spoke of _making your mark_, -- not of being seen to do it," his brother returned.

Again Rufus was silent.

"Well but the question is not of that now," he said, "but of doing _something;_ -- to escape from the dishonour and the misery of doing nothing."

"Still you have not told me your thoughts, Will. You are not fit for a merchant."

"I'll never enter a counting-house again! -- for anything!" was Rufus's reply.

"If I were in your place, I should take up my old trade of engineering again, just where I left it off."

Rufus walked, and walked.

"But I am fit for better things," -- he said at length.

"Then you are fit for that."

"I suppose that follows," said Rufus with some disdainful expression.

"There is no more respectable profession."

"It gives a man small chance to distinguish himself," said Rufus, -- "and it takes one out of the world."

"Distinction may be attained almost anywhere," said Winthrop.

"'Who sweeps a room as for thy laws, "'Makes that and th' action fine.'"

"I should like to see _you_ do it!" was Rufus's scornful rejoinder.

"What?"

"Sweep rooms by way of distinction."

"I don't know about the distinction," said Winthrop; "but the _thing_ you may see me do any morning, if you come at the right hour."

"Sweep these rooms?"

"With a broomstick."

"Why Winthrop, that's beneath you!"

"I have been thinking so lately," said Winthrop. "It wasn't, in the days when I couldn't afford to pay any one for doing it; and those days reached down to a very late point."

"Afford!" said Rufus, standing still in his walk; -- "Why you have made money enough ever since you began practice, to afford such a thing as that."

"Ay -- if I could have put it all on the floor."

"Where had you to put it?"

"I had Mr. Inchbald to reward for his long trust in me, and Mr. Herder to reimburse for his kindness, -- and some other sources of expenditure to meet."

"Mr. Herder could have been paid out of the costs of this lawsuit."

"No, he couldn't."

"And thereupon, you would recommend the profession of a street-sweeper to me!" said Rufus, beginning his walk with renewed energy.

"On the whole, I think I would not," said Winthrop gravely. "I am of opinion you can do something better."

"I don't like engineering!" said Rufus presently.

"What _do_ you like?"

Rufus stopped and stood looking thoughtfully on the table where Winthrop's papers lay.

"I consider that, to be as honourable, as useful, and I should think quite as pleasant a way of life, as the one I follow."

"Do you? --" said Rufus, looking at the long 'answer in Chancery.'

"I would as lieve go into it to-morrow, and make over my inkstand to you, if I were only fit for that and you for this."

"Would you!" said Rufus, mentally conceding that his brother was 'fit' for anything.

"Just as lieve."

Rufus's brow lightened considerably, and he took up his walk again.

"What would you like better, Will?"

"I don't know --" said Rufus meditatively -- "I believe I'll take your advice. There was an offer made to me a week or two ago -- at least I was spoken to, in reference to a Southern piece of business --"

"Not another agency?"

"No -- no, engineering; -- but I threw it off, not thinking then, or not knowing, that I would have anything more to do with the matter -- I dare say it's not too late yet."

"But Will," said his brother, "whatever choice you make now, it is your last choice."

"How do you know it is my last choice?" said Rufus.

"Because it ought to be."

Rufus took to silence and meditating again.

"Any profession rightly managed, will carry you to the goal of honour; but no two will, ridden alternately."

"It seems so," said Rufus bitterly.

And he walked and meditated, back and forth through the room; while Winthrop lost himself in his 'answer.' The silence lasted this time till Rufus came up to the table and extending his hand bid his brother 'good night.'

"Are you going?" said Winthrop starting up.

"Yes -- going; and going South, and going to be an engineer, and if possible to reach the goal of honour on the back of that calling, by some mysterious road which as yet I see not."

"Stay here to-night, Will."

"No, I can't -- I've got to see somebody."

"All night?"

"Why, no," said Rufus smiling. "I suppose I could come back; more especially as I am going bona fide away. By the way, Winthrop, do you know they say the yellow fever is here?"

"I know they say so."

"What will you do?"

"Nothing."

"I mean, of course, if the report is true."

"So I mean."

"But you will not stay here?"

"I think I will."

"But it would be much better to go out of town."

"If I think so, I'll go."

"I'll make you think so," said Rufus putting on his hat, -- "or else I won't go engineering! I'll be back in an hour."