Amy Lawrence, the Freemason's Daughter

Front matter

AMY LAWRENCE, THE FREEMASON'S DAUGHTER BY J. F. SMITH, ESQ. Author of " Minnigrey," " Woman and her Master," " Soldier of Fortune," &c. " The craft shall last till the las*; signal's given, Whose trumpet tongue shall rend the vault of heaven, Age feels its moral — it gives strength to youth — Its prop is Honour — its foundation Truth." Smith's Essays on Masonry. London .: H. LEA. WARWICK LANE, PATERNOSTER ROW It. BEARD, PRINTER, BRUNSWICK PLACE, CITY ROAD. . MOT ®3? HILILW^l'IE.Ii-iradDSsS, PAO.E The Family Circle ....... 1 The Lunatic Asylum: ...... 0 GlUNDEM AND MaBJORAM ....... 17 Meg Delivering up the Papers ..... 25 Death of Richard Lawrence ...... 33 Gilbert Grindem and his Nephew ..... -11 Amy Lawrence and Henry Beacham ..... 40 Meg's Distress at her Husband's Absence .... 57 Amy's Prayer . . ..... 05 The "Visit to the Asylum ...... 73 The Letter ....... .81 Death of Flin ...•••• The Analysis ....... 97 Interview with Crab Respecting the Death of Gridley . . 105 Geindem's Indignation . .

" . • 113 Matthew Small and his Party .... 121 Matthew Small and Marjoram . . . . • .120 The Disappointment ...... 137 Examination of Crab ....••• 14a Suicide of Crab ...... The Breakfast Scene ..... 16 l Scene at the Bankers ..... 169 Introduction to the Princess Dumbrowski .... 177 Dismissal of the Minister of Police ... 185 i. ral Playwlli.'s Meeting with Amy ... LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. IV. PAGE Amy's Arrival at her New Home ..... 201 Small and Mortimer ....••• *UJ Death of Small . . . . • ■ • 217 Mary and Amy ......•• 225 The General's Carriage Stopjs-ed ..... 233 Interview with the Rag-gatherer . . . ; .241 General Playwell's Death-bed ... • 249 Amy is Greeted by* her Friend Mr. Bowles .... 257 Reading the General's Will . ... 265 Marriage of Henry Beacham and Amy Lawrence , . . MOT ©IF CMM-SHEE-S. chapter. page. 'i ........ 1 II ........ 7 III ........ 10 IV ........ 18 V ........ 24 VI ........ 30 VII ........ 34 VIII ........ 38 IX 39 X ........ « XI ........ 44 XII .....••• 48 XIII .,..•••• ftl XIV .....••• 54 XV 59 XVI 68 XVII . . . . • • • • 69 XVIII ......."

XIX 91 XX °4 XXI . 10° XXII l0i XXIII . . . • • • • • m XXIV ....••• 1U xxv 110 xxvi ...•••• 123 XXVII . . . • • • • • 126 XXVIII ....••• 133 XXIX . . . • • • • • 139 XXX uo XXXI ur XXXII ....••• XXXIII . . • • • • • • vi. list of chapters. J CHAPTER. PAGE. XXXIV ....... 157 XXXV ....•••• lfi0 XXXVI ....••• 109 XXXVH . . . . . • • • 172 XXXVIH . . . . . • .175 XXXIX .... ... 170 XL I80 XLI 19° XLII ....-•• 190 XLIII i . . . • • • • • 21fi XLIV 222 XLV 231 XLVI 23G XLVII . . . 239 XLVIII 240 XLIX . . ..... 253 L .250 LI ... ... 202 LII . . . ' • • • .265 LIII . . . . • • • • 2'° THE FREEMASON'S DAUGHTER BY J. F. SMITH, ESQ. i to their unhealthy labour in the ill-ventilated factories of the city, — marts in which the grasping spirit of gain speculates alike on the strength of manhood and the weakness of infancy.

Chapter I

Love and Love's trials, virtue humbly born ; Shunning temptation's glittering bait, and shame, Though masked with gold and lap'd in luxury. On a gloomy day in that gloomiest of all months, November, the streets of Man chester, generally so thronged with busy faces, were desert-- 1 by all but the pale, sickly crowd of shivering artisans, hurrying No 1. ment at the desk, he sat of an evening by the fireside of his humble home, listening to the fresh, pure voice of his sister Amy, as she sang the songs of their childhood, or read the tender, melancholy verse of his favourite poet, Kirke White, whom Richard used to say he loved, because he died so young, — words which filled the eyes of the grateful, affectionate girl with tears, and caused his mother's heart to beat with all a mother's apprehensions. wet and greasy pavement.

The day was detestable ; the pitiless shower fell w"ith that persevering steadiness, which, like a sullen temper, forbids all hope of accommodation, and the thick black smoke from a hundred chimnies hung like a heavy veil over the busy hive of human industry, impregnating the atmosphere with pestilence and death. But why compare Manchester to a hive, when humanity proclaims the simile a false one ? The bee toils in pure air and sunshine, breathes the rich odours of a thousand flowers, and rests its wings on their enam elled breasts ; its labour is healthful exercise, cheered by the music of its merry song ; the bee receives no injustice from its fellow bee, and is suffocated only when its task is ended, and the rich hoard laid up. For the poor artisan, condemned to waste his days in the unhealthy, over-heated factory, life has no sunshine — labour no music ; he works for another's gain, and, like the silkworm, is gradually suffocated, while weaving a fortune for his master, a shroud for himself.

Decidedly the great manufacturing city of England cannot be compared to a hive ; for the hive is healthy, and at sunset the bee rests from its labour — its toils ; not | like man, in an artificial light ; leaves not the warm shelter of its home on a day like the one we have endeavoured to describe : it can afford to rest, for it produces more than it consumes. The counting-house in which Richard was slowly making his way was situated, as -we before stated, in Canon Street, a narrow, damp, money-making looking lo cale, on which the sun, as if ashamed of the mercenary spirit of its iahabitants, seldom deigned to shine ; in fact, it was only at its meridian that its beams could penetrate between the tall black roofs and smoky gables. The firm of Grindem and SmaU, in which Richard Lawrence was a junior clerk, was one of the oldest established houses in Manchester ; its signature was as good as a Bank of England note on the Exchange, although some hinted that its transactions were not always of the fairest character.

The partners were even benevolent in their way — every ready to assist their embar rassed correspondents, by purchasing at forty per cent, under cost the consignments for which by a strange fatality, they seldom found a market till they had exchanged the character of agent for owner, when, by a coincidence equally strange, the articles in question were sure to rise in demand. It is true that their correspondents, as soon as they could emancipate themselves from their ruinous agency, did so ; and many a rising firm found itself crippled for years by their early connection with the house of Grindem and Small ; but, as the latter used to say, while rubbing his hands over an account wound up, " God prospers the industrious ; " and the firm of Grindem and Small were very industrious. Gilbert Grindem, the head of the establishment, was a bachelor, in the sixtieth year of his age.

When young he was far too prudent to mary : a wife, he used to say, distracts the attention from business ; children were but so many pledges given to poverty and servitude. It was upon the last principle, most probably*, that in his fifty-fifth year, he took as junior partner the crihging, indefatigable Mr. Small, who was too poor to be scrupulous as to the nature of the transactions in which he was engaged, and of which the wealthy head of the firm began to feel ashamed. Small's family, of three sons and as many daughters, were guarantees of his subser- Despite the inclemency of the day, a young man, of gentlemanly appearance, might be seen slowly making his way towards Canon Street ; he was thin almost to attenuation : the pedestrian who followed him might have taken him for a youth who had outgrown his strength ; while, on the contrary, the one who met him face to face would have detected in the hectic of his cheek, and the glassy lustre of his eye, a victim to that curse of our English climate — consumption, in its advanced and almost latest stage.

Richard Lawrence, from the early age of sixteen to two-and-twenty, had been the sole support of his widowed mother and a sister, six years younger than himself. Close confinement and incessant labour at the desk had gradually undermined a con stitution naturally feeble, but which fresh air and a mind at ease might probably have strengthened. The desolation of poverty, even while a boy, had shadowed his ex istence, broken his spirit, chilled his youth, poisoned his opening manhood, and in his two-and-twentieth year the lamp of life already burnt with that sickly glare which precedes its extinction. Still there were moments when ho felt almost happy, — -when, after a day of toil or close con viency ; a partner without capital, he was forced to be content with what remained after the lion's share.

The counting-house was entirely under the direction of the junior partner; for the principal was too wealthy and too great a man to occupy himself with the mere details of the firm. During business hours he remained in his own room, giving audi ence only to s*ach of his correspondents as were, to a certain extent, independent of him; once entangled in the inextricable web of difficulties which the partners so well knew how to weave -around them, they ■were contemptuously turned over to Small: the next stage was a compromise with their creditors, or a bankruptcy. The senior clerk was a drunken, dissipated man, named Gridley, who had been employed from boyhood in the firm ; a fellow who, for a well-regulated establish ment, gave himself strange liberties, — came when he liked, went when he liked, and did only what he liked.

Small had repeatedly tried his influence with Grindem to get him discharged, but in vain ; the old man mocked at his anger, and continued his usual course. There was evidentlya feeling in the breast of the head of the house which pleaded for him ; but whether of love or fear, time will show. Next in the commercial hierarchy were the three sons of Mr. Small — Matthew, Mark, and John. Their respectable pa rent often used to regret — for he was a religious man, and gave aU his chddren scriptural names — that their brother Luke had not survived, else he had had the four Evangelists for godfathers in his family. His daughters were named Judith, Mary, and Ann, — prim, matronly-looking girls, who had each set their hearts on becoming the wife of Henry Beacham, the nephew and presumed heir of Gilbert Grindem, a young gentleman nominally employed in the firm : we say nominally ; for his uncle, who, at the request of his dying sister, had received the orphan, at first treated him with coldness and discontent, but had gradually* become so attached to him, that he did pretty well as he liked, always provided that he made his appearance at Gilbert's dinner hour, to enliven with his rattling conversation and cheerful smile the solitary meal of his wealthy relative.

Perhaps the uncle had a less selfish motive in indulging his nephew's distaste for business : he loved the frank, open-hearted young man — loved him like his own son — and did not wish him to obtain too clear an insight into the nature of the transactions of the firm ; which, though perfectly legal in themselves, were like those moral felonies which human justice cannot reach, but which, sooner or later, the source of all justice seldom fails to punish. The person of Richard Lawrence, the junior clerk, we have already described. He had been received into the firm on the sudden death of his father, for many years fellow clerk with Gridley, long before Small's connection with the house. Indeed, it was chiefly through the influence of the former that the youth had been employed. Not a sound was to be heard in the counting-house except the scratching of the pens of Gridley and the three junior Smalls, as they made out the different invoices, or copied the correspondence of the day.

The tail of the firm, as Henry Beacham used to designate Small, was standing with his back to a cheerful fire, contemplating, with a parent's satisfaction, his industrious boys, or perhaps mentally congratulating himself upon the conclusion of a more than usually delicate affair, when the door was slowly opened, and Richard Lawrence, wet to the skin, and shivering with cold, made his appearance. A satirical smile passed over 'the features of the junior Smalls as the poor fellow entered the office. "You have been a long time absent!" said his superior, sharply. "I had to wait," observed the young mail, mildly, "for Mitchell's securities. Brown's bills are dishonoured, and there is no advice from Mackinlay, of New York." The speaker drew from his side pocket a huge leather case, took from it several papers, and handed them to Small.

He was about to take his usual position at the desk, when the latter personage suddenly recollected that there was another affair to regulate at Salford. He was sorry, very sorry to give Mr. Lawrence the trouble of returning. He had forgotten it in the hurry of business when he first sent him out, but the errand was important. This time the smile of three junior Smalls amounted to a grin. " I am ready, sir," said the young man, -with a look of resignation. " Take my place," said Gridley, jumping off his stool ; "I'll go." " You have not finished the invoices." '■Richard can finish them as well as I can," observed the old clerk, doggedly. " But I insist." "Would you murder him?" whispered Gridley. " Look at him. wan, pale, and suffering ! It is not a day to send a dog into the streets, unless," he said, "a worthless dog like me !

Come, Mr. Small, " he added, " you are a father yourself — show some consideration." " Business is business," said the junior demanded Grindem, in a voice of unusual mildness. partner, coolly. "It is not my fault if my clerk chooses to fall into a consumption. The affairs of the firm ought not to suffer." "I am quite ready, sir," exclaimed Richard, eagerly, for he trembled for his situation. " My health is better, much better than it was. I begin to feel quite strong again." A slight cough interrupted the speaker : he placed his handkerchief to his lips — when he removed it Gridley saw thnt it was stained with blood. The sight at once determined him, and he advanced with a firm step towards the door of Grindem's private room. " Where are you going," demanded Small, pale with rage. " To talk to your master," replied Grid ley, coolly.

" Impudent scoundrel !" "Scoundrel!" repeated the old man. "And who, pray, gave Ebenezer Small the right to call me scoundrel? Is it because from shoe-black he rose to be clerk, from clerk to be a partner in the firm? Had I kept sober I might have been a partner too. Like a fool I drank at all hours, like a wise man, he only when business was ended. He has reaped the advantage of his prudence, but it gives him no right to call me scoundrel !" The speaker, whom the state of the weather had prevented from leaving the office in search of his usual glass, was, like an opium eater deprived of his favourite drug, in a state of fearful excitement ; in his anger he had raised his voice to a pitch approaching a scream, and consequently made himself distinctly heard by the head of the firm, who had been seen more than once to turn pale whenever Gridley gave way to one of his bursts of passion.

The old clerk's influence with Grindem was one of those mysteries which Small could never understand, and he had tried a hundred times to penetrate it. The old clerk's salary was moderate, even for his services, and he had never been known either to express dissatisfaction, or solicit an advance. Gilbert Grindem, so proud, overbearing, and despotic in his dealings with mankind, was quiet, and at times even humble with Gridley. Decidedly there was a mystery. The door of the apartment opened, and the head of the firm, followed by his nephew, made his appearance ; the pens of the three junior Smalls flew with increased rapidity over the invoices, day book, and ledger, whilst poor Richard trembled at the inconsiderate conduct of his well meaning friend. " It means, sir, that I have been grossly insulted," replied Mr. Small, "by your clerk."

"Impossible !" replied his partner, drily. " It means, sir," exclaimed Gridley, with an air in which defiance and respect were strangely mingled, "that Mr. Small presumed to call me scoundrel before his three sons and Mr. Lawrence ; you know," he added, " whether I deserve that appellation or no." '• Certainly not," said Gilbert, biting his lips to conceal his anger, and perhaps to repress the inclination he felt to kick the old clerk out of the counting-house. "I cannot conceive why Mr.|Small should take such a liberty. Have you any accusation," he added, turning coldly towards his partner, " against the probity of Mr. Gridley P" "None." "I thought not." " But he is a drunkard." "We have all our faults, Mr. Small. A man may be a drunkard, and yet not a scoundrel ! " "Exactly the difference between your partner and myself, sir," observed Gridley, with a sneer : " I did but offer to replace Mr. Lawrence, who is already wet to the skin, in a course which Mr. Small suddenly found it necessary to send him on, when the latter lost both his temper and his manners.

Had it been one of his own precious cubs," he added, grumbling between teeth, " the affairs of the firm might have waited long enough before he had sent him out on a day like this." " Richard, my dear fellow," exclaimed Henry Beacham, stepping forward, and seizing the poor clerk by the hand ; " you are ill — very ill ; my uncle, I am sure, would not wish you to expose your health on such a day as this. 1 am surprised, sir," he added, turning to Mr. Small, "that you had not more humanity than to think of such a thing." Both the partners winced. The senior, at the expression of friendship of his ne phew for the poor clerk ; and junior, at the reproach which his conscience told him was well merited. "I regret," said Richard Lawrence, mildly, " that I should have been the in voluntary occasion of this dispute.

I thank Mr. Gridley kindly for his offer, but I am capable, quite capable, of executing the orders I have received." " You are nothing of the kind," interrupted his friend, struck by the sudden paleness of the speaker. " Uncle," he I added, "I am sure you can spare Mr. " What is the meaning of this tumult?" Lawrence for a few days, till his health is I re-established?" With a warm grasp of the hand, the young man left the office, full of anticipa | tion and the hope of re-establishing his I health — of the pleasure which his month's | holiday would afford his mother and sister. | A month's repose to his tired spirit seemed j an eternity ofleisure — a harvest of strength. | Poor fellow, it was but the prelude to the j grave ! As his attenuated form passed the threshold of the counting-house, a tear from old Gridley's eyes fell upon the ledger, and blotted the figures ; it was the purest record the pages of the book received ; for the tears were those of pity and repentance.

No sooner was Richard gone, than Mr. i Small, who had been meditating during his brief conversation with the old clerk, with an air of sudden resolution entered the private room where his partner and Henry Beacham were quietly sipping their wine. " Ah, Small ! exclaimed Mr. Grindem ; " take a chair ; you will find a fresh glass on the tray. Port or Madeira ?" The speaker was extremely choice of the latter wine, which had twice made the voyage to the East Indies and back : he ] offered it as a matter of politeness, only ; i it was understood as such, and invariably declined. The sycophant filled his glass with port. " Anything particular ? " demanded Grindem, after a pause. " Nothing more than the regulation of i the office. I would not take upon myself j the responsibility of intrusting Gridley, during the absence of Mr. Lawrence, to I collect for the house."

Grindem hesitated. " Impossible," said Mr. Small, embolden- I ed by his partner's silence ; " there is so I much out-door work to do, which, as junior I clerk, falls to " " I *vill replace him ! " Baid Henry Beachum ; " it is a long time since I took j my turn at business ; Lawrence, I am sure, is seriouslj* ill ; would you," he added, " murder him." This was exactly the same question, which Gridley had asked, and the old man, struck by the coincidence, fixed his eyes inquiringly, nay, even menancingly, upon the headof the firm. Ihe gaze produced ! its effect, for, suddenly turning to his clerk, he graciously gave him a month's leave of absence to re-establish his health, and then retired to his room without exchanging a word with any of the rest. " Humph ! " muttered Gridley, as he returned to his stool; "not so bad as I thought."

" Take a fly," whispered Henry, as he Pressed his friend's hand ; " send for advice. ] will see you as soon as my uncle leaves j the office. Eemember me," he added, " to I your sister Amy, and your kind mother." Despite the presenco of Mr. SmaU, ! Richard Lawrence went and shook hands I with old Gridley, thanking him warmly for J the interest he had taken in his welfare. " I have now," he said, " thanks to the kindness of Mr. Grindem, a month's rest before me — it was all I required. I shall return to my desk strong and healthy — oh, so strong!" The hollow cough which in terrupted the speaker seemed to give the lie to his hopes. "But you wdl come and see me?" he added. " Oh ! he is honest," interrupted his partner, bitterly. " But a drunkard!" added Small. " True — true ! it has been the poor devil's ruin.

But for that one fault, Small, he would now be sitting in your place, and you at his desk. He is a strange com pound," he added, and has lost more than one occasion. Let Matthew take the out door department for a month." " Willingly," said the old man ; " that's if " he hesitated. " If what ?" " You know my habits ; they have been my ruin ! — no matter for that — perhaps your mother and sister might not excuse my manners and appearance, although you arc kind enough " " No fear of that," said Richard, shaking him by the hand ; " my mother often in quires after you ; she will be rejoiced to see you, for you were my poor father's friend." " Yes, yes," murmured the old man, hastily, "I was his friend." " He intrusted you with everything ?" " Everything ! He had not a secret con cealed from me."

" How, then," resumed Richard, "should my mother be otherwise than glad to see you P" and Amy shall sing to you one of her merry songs. Good bye — good bye." " Matthew's health is delicate," observed the father, dryly. "Mark or John, then, which you will," exclaimed the head of the firm, impatiently ; " surely for a month you can arrange it amongst you." "It is not that, sir; thank heaven, neither I nor my sons shrink from toil where the interests of the firm are concerned ! " " I know — I know." " But at the end of the month ?" " At the end of the month Lawrence will return, and things resume their usual course," said Mr. Grindem, with an air of impatience, for he began to feel annoyed, cumstance connected with the speaker's own visit which he did not wish his uncle to become acquainted with. and had not the slightest reason for mana ging the susceptibility of his partner.

" Lawrence never will return I" observed Small, emphatically. "And why not?" " You really wish to know ?" " Certainly." "Well, then, I and my friend Lord Somers were bail for him and your son Matthew at the police-court. There had been a dispute — a fight, or some such low affair — at the house where they had supped, after having, as I presume, seen your daughter home." A groan of mortification and rage broke from the breast of the overwhelmed and astonished Mr. Small, who was much more annoyed at the exposure than at the hypocrisy of his children. The day was decidedly unfavourable to his views ; he almost regretted that he had been tempted to make the proposition to his principal, to whom, although nominally a partner, he was as much subjected as the merest clerk in the office. " Because," resumed the heartless man of figures, " he has not another month to live.

Currey, who attends my wife and youngest daughter, told me so." " And you knew this," exclaimed Henry Beacham, in a tone of indignation ; " knew it, and sent him on a day like this, dragging his emaciated form along the cold, damp streets of Manchester?" "Business is business, young gentle man," replied Small, with a smile. " You forget, sir, he has a mother." '• And a sister," added the partner sar castically. " Both dependent on his exertions," resumed the young man, without seeming to notice the tone in which the last observation was made. "Uncle," he added, "I am afraid I shall never make a merchant." " I shall make no change," said Grindem, " till the expiration of the month. Mr. Small, those letters are of importance, you had better look to them yourself." He pointed to a packet lying on the table.

The junior partner took the hint, and retired, a smile upon his lip, his heart overflowing with bitterness and hate. '* What ! " he murmured, " treated with less consideration in the firm than that drunken old rascal, Gridley ! There is a secret — I am sure there is. I'd give my soul, almost, to find it out. We shall see," he added, repeating the words of his prin cipal. Let me but obtain the clue from old Gridley, and we will see." " Henry," said his uncle, as soon as the door was closed and Mr. Small installed in the outward office, "you take a strange in terest in this Richard Lawrence." "Why so?" " I lack the coldness and self-possession," added the speaker, with an expression of disgust, " of your partner, Mr. SmaU." " And what do you propose ?" demanded Grindem, without replying to the observation of his nephew.

" Gripe and Holdfast are about to part with their junior clerk, a young man of excellent character, well acquainted with business, and the transactions of the firm, where he has been employed ; added to which Mr. Bainton has the advantage of being" " The accepted suitor of Miss Judith Small," observed Henry Beacham, turning to the senior partner. " You cannot do better. The counting-house will then become quite a family affair." "Dear me," said the parent of the amiable Miss Small, who, in despair of the conquest of Henry Beacham, had accepted the offer of the clerk, whose grandfather had lately left him four thousand pounds ; " Mr. Bainton the suitor of my girl ! Wrhat could induce you to imagine so improbable a circumstance?" " He is my friend." "Friend? Bah!" " Brother, then, if you will."

" Brother ! " repeated the old man, with a fearful expression of countenance, for his thoughts reverted to Amy, " What mean you ? " " Simply that we are members of the the same lodge. My friend Lord Somers, whose society you wished me to cultivate, has long been initiated. Had I thought you had the least objection " " Objection ! " repeated his uncle, breath ing freely ; " not the least. Lord Somers is a most unexceptionable acquaintance. And so Lawrence is a mason." "Aye, and a distinguished one. His father was so before him." "And his sister," demanded Mr. Grin dem ; " have you seen her ?" " Seeing them together at the theatre." "At the theatre !" My daughter in the devil's hothouse ! " exclaimed Small, with pious horror. "I am not in the habit, sir," said the young man, gravely, "of uttering a falsehood.