Hagar of the Pawn-Shop

Chapter I The Coming Of Hagar Jacob DIX

was a pawn-broker, but not a Jew, notwithstanding his occupation and the Hebraic sound of his baptismal name. He was so old that no one knew his real age ; so grotesque in looks that children jeered at him in the streets ; so avaricious that throughout the neighbourhood he was called ' Skinflint.' If he possessed any hidden good qualities to counterbalance his known bad ones, no person had ever discovered them, or even had taken the trouble to look for them. Certainly Jacob, surly and uncommunicative, was not an individual inclined to encourage uninvited curiosity. In his pawn-shop he lived like an ogre in a fairy-tale castle, and no one ever came near him save to transact business, to wrangle during the transaction thereof, and to curse him at its conclusion. Thus it may be guessed that Jacob drove hard bargains.

The pawn-shop — situated in Carby's Crescent, Lam beth — furthermore resembled an ogre's castle inasmuch as, though not filled with dead men's bones, it contained the relics and wreckage, the flotsam and jetsam, of many lives, of many households. Placed in the centre of the dingy crescent, it faced a small open space, and the entrance of the narrow lane which led therefrom to the adjacent thoroughfare. In its windows — begrimed with the dust of years — a heterogeneous mixture of articles was displayed, ranging from silver teapots to well-worn -g %aa_ax of t$t (ftanm^gflop saucepans ; from gold watches to rusty flatirons ; from the chisel of a carpenter to the ivory-framed mirror of a fashionable beauty. The contents of Dix's window typified in little the luxury, the meanness, the triviality and the decadence of latter-day civilisation.

There was some irony, too, in the disposition of incongruous articles ; for the useful and useless were placed significantly in proximity, and the trifles of frivolity were mingled with the necessaries of life. Here a Dresden china figure, bright-hued and dainty, simpered everlastingly at a copper warming-pan ; there a silver handled dagger of the Renaissance lay with a score of those cheap dinner-knives whose bluntness one execrates in third-rate restaurants. The bandaged hand of a Pharaohonic mummy touched an agate saucer holding defaced coins of all ages, of all nations. Watches, in alternate rows of gold and silver, dangled over fantastic temples and ships of ivory carved by laborious Chinese artificers. On a square of rich brocade, woven of silks, multi-coloured as a parrot's plumage, were piled in careless profusion medals, charms, old-fashioned rings set with dim gems, and the frail glass bangles of Indian nautch-girls.

A small cabinet of Japanese lacquer, black, with grotesque gilded figures thereon ; talismans of coral from Southern Italy, designed to avert the evil eye ; jewelled pipes of Turkey, set roughly with blue turquoise stones ; Georgian caps with embroideries of tarnished gold ; amulets, earrings, bracelets, snuff-boxes and mosaic brooches from Florence — all these frivolities were thrown the one on top of the other, and all were overlaid with fine grey dust. Wreckage of many centuries ; dry bones of a hundred social systems, dead or dying ! What a commentary on the durability of empire — on the inherent pride of pigmy man ! Within doors the shop was small and dark. A narrow counter, running lengthways, divided the whole into two parts. On the side nearest the entrance three wooden screens by their disposition formed four sentry-boxes, ffiagar into which customers stepped when bent on business.

Jacob, wizen, cunning, and racked by an eternal cough, hovered up and down the space within the counter, wrangling incessantly with his customers, and cheating them on every occasion. He never gave the value of a pawned article : he fought over every farthing ; and even when he obtained the goods at his own price he grudged payment ; for every coin he put down was a drop of blood wrung from his withered heart. He rarely went outside the shop ; he never mingled with his fellow creatures ; and, the day's chicanery ended, he retired invariably into a gloomy back parlour, the principal adornment of which was a gigantic safe built into the wall. Here he counted his gains, and saw doubtful customers not receivable in the shop, who came by stealth to dispose of stolen goods. Here, also, in his lighter moments, he conversed with the only friend he possessed in Carby's Crescent — or, indeed, in London.

Jacob was in no danger of becoming a popular idol. This particular friend was a solicitor named Vark, who carried on a shady business, in a shady manner, for shady clients. His name — as he declared himself — proved him to be of Polish descent ; but it was commonly reported in the neighbourhood that Vark was made to rhyme with shark, as emblematic of the estimation in which he was held. He was hated only one degree less than Jacob, and the two,— connected primarily as lawyer and client, — later on had struck up a mistrustful friend ship by reason of their mutual reputation and isolation. Neither one believed in the other ; each tried to swindle on his own account, and never succeeded ; yet the two met nightly and talked over their divers rascalities in the dingy parlour, with a confidence begotten by an intimate knowledge of each other's character.

The reputations of both were so bad that the one did not dare to betray the other. Only on this basis is honour possible among thieves. Late one foggy November night Jacob was seated «g jjagar of i%t (panm^eflop with his crony over a pinched little fire which burnt feebly in a rusty iron grate. The old pawn-broker was boiling some gruel, and Vark, with his own private bottle of gin beside him, was drinking a wineglass of it, mixed sparingly with water. Mr. Dix supplied this latter beverage, as it cost nothing, but Vark — on an under standing which dated from the commencement of their acquaintance — always brought his own liquor. A guttering candle in a silver candlestick — a pawned article — was placed on the deal table, and gave forth a miserable light. The fog from without had percolated into the room, so that the pair sat in a kind of misty atmosphere, hardly illuminated by the farthing dip.

Such discomfort, such squalor, was only possible in a penurious establishment like that of Jacob. Vark was a little, lean, wriggling creature, more like a worm than a man made in the image of his Creator. He had a sharp nose, a pimply face, and two shifty, fishy eyes, green in hue like those of a cat. His dress was of rusty black, with a small — very small — display of linen ; and he rubbed his hands together with a cringing bow every time Jacob croaked out a remark between his coughs. Mr. Dix coughed in a rich but faded dressing gown, the relic of some dandy of the Regency ; and every paroxysm threatened to shake his frail form to pieces. But the ancient was wonderfully tough, and clung to life with a kind of desperate courage — though Heaven only knows what attraction the old villain found in his squalid existence.

This tenacity was not approved of by Vark, who had made Jacob's will, and now wished his client to die, so that he, as executor, might have the fingering of the wealth which Dix was reported to possess. The heir to these moneys was missing, and Vark was determined that he should never be found. Meanwhile, with many schemes in his head, he cringed to Jacob, and watched him cough over his gruel. ' Oh, dear, dear ! ' sighed Mr. Vark, speaking of his client in the third person, as he invariably did, ' how bad %<xa.ax §*> Mr. Dix's cough is to-night ! Why doesn't he try a taste of gin to moisten his throat ? ' ' Can't afford it ! ' croaked Jacob, pouring the gruel into a bowl. ' Gin's worth money, and money I ain't got. Make me a little present of a glass, Mr. Vark, just to show that you're glad of my company.' Vark complied very unwillingly with this request, and poured as little as he well could into the proffered bowl. ' What an engaging man he is ! ' said the lawyer, smirk ing — ' so convivial, so full of spirits ! ' ' Your spirits ! ' retorted Jacob, drinking his gruel. ' What wit ! ' cried Vark, slapping his thin knees. ' It's better than Punch I ' ' Gin-punch ! gruel-punch ! ' said Dix, encouraged by this praise. ' He, he !

I shall die with laughing ! I've paid for worse than that at the theatre ! ' ' More fool you ! ' growled Jacob, taking up the tongs. ' You shouldn't pay for anything. Here, get out ! I'm going to put out the fire. I ain't going to burn this expensive coal to warm you. And the candle's half burnt too ! ' concluded Jacob, resentfully. ' I'm going — I'm going,' said Vark, slipping his bottle into his pocket. ' But to leave this pleasant company — what a wrench ! ' ' Here, stop that stuff, you inkpot ! Has my son answered that advertisement yet ? ' ' Mr. Dix's son hasn't sent a line to his sorrowing parent,' returned the lawyer. ' Oh, what a hard-hearted offspring ! ' ' You're right there, man,' muttered Jacob, gloomily. ' Jimmy's left me to die all alone, curse him ! ' 1 Then why leave him your money ? ' said Vark, changing into the first person, as he always did when business was being discussed. < Why, you fool ?— 'cause he's Hagar's son— the bad son of a good mother.' « Hagar Stanley— your wife— your gipsy wife !

Hey, Mr. Dix ? ' -g jfyawx of tfyt (pawn^effop Jacob nodded. ' A pure-blooded Romany. I met her when I was a Crocus.' ' Crocus for Cheap Jack ! ' whined Vark ; ' the wit this man has ! ' ' She came along o' me to London when I set up here,' continued Jacob, without heeding the interruption, ' and town killed her ; she couldn't breathe in bricks and mortar after the free air of the road. Dead — poor soul ! — dead ; and she left me Jimmy — Jimmy, who's left me.' ' What a play of fancy -' began Vark ; when, seeing from the fierce look of Jacob that compliments on the score of the dead wife were not likely to be well received, he changed his tone. ' He'll spend your money, Mr. Dix.' ' Let him ! Hagar's dead, and when I die — let him.' ' But, my generous friend, if you gave me more power as executor ' ' You'd take my money to yourself,' interrupted Dix with irony. ' Not if I know it, you shark !

Your duty is to administer the estate by law for Jimmy. I pay you ! ' 1 But so little ! ' whined Vark, rising ; ' if you At this moment there came a sharp knock at the door of the shop, and the two villains, always expectant of the police, stared at one another, motionless with terror for the moment. Vark, who always took care of his skin, snatched up his hat and made for the back-door, whence, in the fog, he could gain his own house unquestioned and unseen. Like a ghost he vanished, leaving Jacob motionless until aroused by a repetition of the knock. ' Can't be peelers,' he muttered, taking a pistol out of a cupboard, ' but it might be thieves. Well, if it is ' He smiled grimly, and without finishing his sentence he shuffled along to the door, candle in hand. A third knock came, as the clock in the shop struck eleven. ' Who is there, so late ? ' demanded Jacob, sharply. ' I am — Hagar Stanley ! ' With a cry of terror, Mr. Dix let the candle fall, and in the darkness dropped also.

For the moment, — so $)ct3ar much had his thoughts been running on the dead wife, — the unexpected mention of her name made him believe that she was standing rigid in her winding-sheet on the other side of the door. One frail partition between the living and the dead ! It was terrible ! ' The ghost of Hagar ! ' muttered Dix, white and shaking. ' Why has she come out of her grave ? — and so expensive it was ; bricked ; with a marble tombstone.' ' Let me in ! let me in, Mr. Dix ! ' cried the visitor, again rapping. ' She never called me by that name,' said Jacob, reassured, and scrambling for the candle ; then, having lighted it, he added aloud : ' I don't know anyone called Hagar Stanley.' ' Open the door, and you will. I'm your wife's niece.' ' Flesh and blood ! ' said the old man, fumbling at the lock — ' I don't mind that.' He flung wide the door, and out of the fog and darkness a young girl of twenty years stepped into the shop.

She was dressed in a dark red garment made of some coarse stuff, and over this she wore a short black cloak. Her hands were bare, and also her head, save for a scarlet handkerchief, which was carelessly twisted round her magnificent black hair. The face was of the true Romany type : Oriental in its contour and hue, with arched eye-brows over large dark eyes, and a thin-lipped mouth beautifully shaped, under a delicately-curved nose. Face and figure were those of a woman who needed palms and desert sands and golden sunshine, hot and sultry, for an appropriate background ; yet this Eastern beauty appeared out of the fog like some dead Syrian princess, and presented herself in all her rich loveliness to the astonished eyes of the old pawn-broker. ' So you are the niece of my dead Hagar ? ' he said, staring earnestly at her in the thin yellow light of the candle. ' Yes, its true.

She looked like you when I met her in the New Forest. What d'ye want ? ' ' Food and shelter,' replied the girl, curtly. ' But «g %CL(x,ax of t$t (panm-effop you'd better shut the door ; it might be bad for your reputation if any passer-by saw you speaking to a woman at this time of night.' « My reputation ! ' chuckled Jacob, closing and bolting the door. ' Lord ! that's past spoiling. If you knew how bad it is, you wouldn't come here.' « Oh, I can look after myself, Mr. Dix, especially as you're old enough to be my great-grandfather twice over.' ' Come, come ! Civil words, young woman ! ' ' I'm civil to those who are civil to me,' retorted Hagar, taking the candle out of her host's hands. ' Go on, Mr. Dix, shew me in ; I'm tired, and want to sleep. I'm hungry, and wish food. You must give me bed and board.' ' Infernal insolence, young woman !

Why ? ' Because I'm kin to your dead Hagar.' ' Aye, aye, there's something in that,' muttered Dix, and dominated, in spite of his inherent obstinacy, by the imperious spirit of the girl, he led her into the dingy parlour. Here she removed her cloak and sat down, while Jacob, in an unusual spirit of hospitality, induced by the mention of his late wife, produced some coarse victuals. Without a word he placed the food before his guest ; without a word she ate, and was refreshed. Jacob marvelled at the self-possession of the gipsy, and was rather pleased than otherwise with her bold coolness. Only when she had finished the last scrap of bread and cheese did he speak. His first remark was curt and rude — designedly so. ' You can't stay here ! ' said the amiable old man. The girl retorted in kind : ' I can, and I shall, Mr. Dix.' ' For what reason, you jade ? ' ' For several — and all good ones,' said Hagar, leaning her chin on her hands and looking steadily at his wrinkled face. ' I know all about you from a Romany chal who was up here six months ago.

Your wife is dead ; your %<\%ox §*> son has left you ; and here you live alone, disliked and hated by all. You are old and feeble and solitary ; but you are by marriage akin to the gentle Romany. For that reason, and because I am of your dead rani's blood, I have come to look after you.' ' Jezebel ! That is, if I'll let you ! ' ' Oh, you'll let me fast enough,' replied the woman carelessly. ' You are a miser, I have heard ; so you won't lose the chance of getting a servant for nothing.' • A servant ! You ? ' said Dix, admiring her imperial air. ' Even so, Mr. Dix. I'll look after you and your house. I'll scrub and cook and mend. If you'll teach me your trade, I'll drive a bargain with anyone — and as hard and fast a one as you could drive yourself. And all these things I'll do for nothing.' 1 There's food and lodging, you hussy.' ' Give me dry bread and cold water, your roof to cover me, and a bundle of straw to sleep on.

These won't cost you much, and I ask for nothing more — Skinflint.' ' How dare you call me that, you wild cat ! ' ' It's what they call you hereabouts,' said Hagar with a shrug. ' I think it suits you. Well, Mr. Dix, I have made my offer.' ' I haven't accepted it yet,' snapped Jacob, puzzled by the girl. ' Why do you come to me ? Why don't you stay with your tribe ? ' ' I can explain that in five minutes, Mr. Dix. We Stanleys are just now in the New Forest. You know it ? ' ' Truly, lass,' said Dix, sadly. ' 'Twas there I met my Hagar.' 'And it is from there that I, the second Hagar, come,' replied the girl. ' I was with my tribe, and I was happy till Goliath came.' ' Goliath ? ' inquired Jacob, doubtfully. ' He is half a Gorgio and half Romany — a red-haired villain, who chose to fall in love with me.

I hated him. I hate him still ! ' — the woman's bosom rose and fell in «g ffiaqar of t$t (pawn^eflop short, hurried pantings — ' and he would have forced me to be his wife. Pharaoh — our king, you know — would have forced me also to be this man's rani, so I had no one to protect me, and I was miserable. Then I recalled what the chal had told me about you who wed with one of us ; so I fled hither for your protection, and to be your servant.' ' But Goliath— this red-haired brute ? ' ' He does not know where I have gone ; he will never find me here. Let me stay, Mr. Dix, and be your servant. I have nowhere to go to, no one to seek, save you, the husband of the dead Hagar, after whom I am named. Am I to stay or go, now that I have told you the truth ? ' Jacob looked thoughtfully at the girl, and saw tears glistening in her heavy eyelashes, although her pride kept them from falling.

Moved by her helplessness, mindful of the wife whom he had loved so well, and alive to the advantage of possessing a white slave whom he could trust, the astute ancient made up his mind. ' Stay,' said he, quietly. ' I shall see if you will be useful to me — useful and faithful, my girl. If so, bread and bed shall be yours.' ' It's a bargain,' said Hagar, with a sigh of relief. ' And now, old man, let me rest in peace, for I am weary, and have walked many a long mile this day.' So in this fashion came Hagar to the pawn-shop ; and it was for this reason that Vark, to his great astonishment, found a woman — and what is more, a young and beautiful woman — established in the house of Jacob Dix. The news affected the neighbourhood like a miracle, and new tales were repeated about Dix and his housekeeper, who, report said, was no better than she should be.

But Hagar did not mind evil tongues ; nor did the old man. Without a spark of love or affection between them, they worked together on a basis of mutual interest ; and all the days that Jacob lived Hagar served him faithfully. Whereat Vark wondered. It was not an easy life for the girl. Jacob was a hard ffiagar &* master, and made her pay dearly for bed and board. Hagar scrubbed walls and floors ; she mended such pawned dresses as required attention ; and cooked the frugal meals of herself and master. The old pawn broker taught her how to depreciate articles brought to be pawned, how to haggle with their owners, and how to wring the last sixpence out of miserable wretches who came to redeem their pledges. In a short time Hagar became as clever as Jacob himself, and he was never afraid to trust her with the task of making bargains, or with the care of the shop.

She acquired a knowledge of pictures, gems, silver-ware, china — in fact, all the information about such things necessary to an expert. Without knowing it, the untaught gipsy girl became a connoisseur. It required all Hagar's patience to bear cheerfully the lot which she had chosen voluntarily. Her bed was hard, her food meagre ; and the old man's sharp tongue was perpetually goading her by its bitterness. Jacob, indeed — sure of his slave, since she had no other roof save his to cover her — exercised all the petty arts of a tyrant. He vented on her all the rage he felt against the son who had deserted him. Once he went so far as to attempt a blow ; but a single glance from the fierce eyes of Hagar made him change his intention ; and, cowed for once in his tyranny, Jacob never lifted his hand again against her.

He saw plainly enough that if he once raised the devil in this child of the free gipsy race, there would be no laying it again. But, actual violence apart, Hagar's life was as miserable as a human being's well could be. Stifled in the narrow shop in the crowded neighbour hood, she longed at times for the free life of the road. Her thoughts recalled the green woods, so cool and shady in summer ; they dwelt on the brown heath lonely in the starlight, with the red flare of the gipsy fire casting fantastic shadows on caravan and tent. In the darkness of night she would murmur the strange words of the ' calo jib,' like some incantation to compel *g IFjagar of fye (panm-eflop memory. To herself, while arranging the curiosities in the shop window, she would sing fragments of Romany songs set in minor keys.

The nostalgia of the wilds, of the encampment and the open road, tortured her in the heats of summer ; and when winter descended she longed for the chill breath of country winds sweeping across moors laden with snow, over pools rigid in the cold embrace of smooth and glassy ice. In the pawn-shop she was an exile from her dream paradise of roaming liberty. To make bad worse, Vark fell in love with her. For the first time in his narrow, selfish life, a divine passion touched the gross soul of the thieves' lawyer. Ravished by the dark loveliness of the girl, dominated by her un tamed spirit, astonished by her clear mind and unerring judgment, Vark wished to possess this treasure. There was also another reason for the offer of marriage which he made, and this reason he put into words when he asked Hagar to become his wife.

It took Vark twelve months to make up his mind to this course ; and his wrath may be guessed when Hagar refused him promptly. The miserable wretch could not believe that she was in earnest. ' Oh, dear, sweet Hagar ! ' he whined, trying to clasp her hand, ' you cannot have heard what your slave said ! ' Hagar, who was mending some lace and minding the shop in the absence of Jacob, looked up with a scornful smile. 'What you call yourself in jest,' said she quietly, ' I am in reality ; I sold myself into bondage for bare existence a year ago. Do you want to marry a slave, Mr. Vark?' ' Yes, yes ! Then you will no longer need to work like a servant.' ' I would rather be a servant than your wife, Mr. Vark.' ' The girl's mad ! Why ? ' ' Because you are a scoundrel.' Z2>e Coming of jfya%<ix 5» Vark grinned amiably, in no wise disturbed by this plain-speaking. ' My Cleopatra, we are all scoundrels in these parts.

Jacob Dix is ' ' Is my master ! ' interrupted Hagar, sharply. ' So leave him alone. But this offer of yours, my friend. What benefit do you propose to gain if I accept it ? You're not asking me to be your wife without some motive.' ' Why, that's true enough, my beauty ! ' chuckled Vark. ' Lord, how cunning you are to guess ! The motive is double : one part love ' ' We'll say nothing about that, man ! You don't know what love is ! The other motive ? ' ' Money ! ' said Vark, curtly, and without wasting words. ■ H'm ! ' replied Hagar, with irony. ' Mr. Dix's money ? ' ' What penetration ! ' said the lawyer, slapping his knee. ' My word, here's intelligence ! ' ' We'll pass over the usual compliments, Mr. Vark. Well, how is Mr. Dix's money to benefit you through me?' ' Why,' said Vark, blinking his green eyes, ' the old man's got a fancy for you, my dear ; and all the liking he had for me he's given to you.

Before you came, he made a will in favour of his lost son, and appointed me executor. Now that he sees what a sharp one you are, he has made a new will ' ' Leaving all the money to me, I suppose ? That's a lie!' ' It is a lie,' retorted Vark, ' but one I wasn't going to tell you. No ; the money is still left to the son ; but you are the executor under the new will. Now d'ye see ? ' ' No,' said Hagar, folding up her work, ' I don't.' ' Well, if I marry you, I'll administer the estate in your name ' ' For the benefit of the lost heir ? Well ? ' +§ %>agar of fye (panm^eflop ' That's just it,' said Vark, laying a lean finger on her knee—' the lost heir. Don't you understand ? We needn't look for him, so we can keep the moneys in our own hands, and have some fine pickings out of the estate.' Hagar rose, and smiled darkly. ' A nice little scheme, and worthy of you,' said she, contemptuously ; ' but there are two obstacles.

I'm not your wife, and I am an honest girl. Try some of your lady clients, Mr. Vark. I'm not for sale ! ' When she walked away Vark scowled. A scoundrel himself, he could not understand this honesty which stood in the way of its own advancement. Biting his fingers, he stared after Hagar, and wondered how he could catch her in his net. ' If that old miser would only leave her his heiress ! ' he thought ; ' she'd have no scruples about taking the money then ; and if she had the money, I'd force her to be my wife. But Jacob is set on giving all his wealth to that infernal son of his, who so often wished his father to die. Aha ! ' sighed Vark, rubbing his hands, ' I wish I could prove that he tried to kill the old man. Jacob wouldn't leave him a penny then, and Hagar would have the money, and I would have her.

What a lovely dream ! Why can't it come true ? ' It was such a lovely dream, and offered such oppor tunities for scoundrelly dealings, that Vark set to work at once to translate it into actual facts. He had many of the letters and bills of the absent Jimmy, who had been accustomed to come to him for the money refused by the paternal Dix. Counting on the old man's death, Vark had lent the son money for his profligacy at a heavy percentage, and intended to repay himself out of the estate. Now that Hagar was to handle the money instead of himself, he thought that there might be some difficulty over his usury, owing to the girl's absurd honesty. He therefore determined to give proofs to Jacob that the absent son had designed to rid himself Z%e Coming of %<x<x,<xx 5» of a troublesome father by secret murder.