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Updated: June 16, 2025
To whatever Allchin proposed, he gave his assent, and in the afternoon, without daring to say a word he stole into freedom. He was once more within sight of Albert Bridge. He walked or prowled for half an hour close about Oakley Crescent. Then, over the bridge and into the Park. Back again, and more prowling. At last, weary and worn, to the counter and apron, and Allchin's talk about golden syrup.
Overwhelmed by the hateful unreason of it all, he felt as though his brain reeled on the verge of madness. Every day, and all the day long, the shop, the counter. Had he chosen, he might have taken a half-holiday, now and then; on certain days Allchin was quite able, and abundantly willing, to manage alone; but what was the use?
The assistant was delighted; he repeated the name a dozen times, snorting and choking with appreciation of the joke. Next morning, they met again, and went together to look at the shop. Here Allchin made great play with his valuable qualities.
He slackened his pace, reflecting. Why, Boxon was the name of the betting and drinking grocer, with whom Allchin used to be. He stopped, and saw a group of three or four women staring at the closed shop. Didn't Mrs. Hopper say that Boxon had been nearly killed in a carriage accident? Doubtless he was dead.
'Totty ain't no need of charms! piped Tilly, with sweets in her mouth. 'She knows who she's going to marry. 'Do I, miss? Totty exclaimed, scornfully. 'Do you know as much for yourself, I wonder? 'Oh, Tilly's a-going to marry the p'liceman with red hair as stands on the Embankment! came from Mrs. Allchin; whereupon followed inextinguishable laughter.
By original calling, Allchin was a grocer's assistant, but a troublesome temper had more than once set him adrift, the outcast of grocerdom, to earn a living as best he could by his vigorous thews, and it was in one of these intervals that, having need of a porter at the works, Warburton had engaged him, on Mrs. Hopper's petition.
Dreamily he walked homewards; dreamily, often with a smile upon his face, he sat through the evening, now and then he pretended to read, but always in a few minutes forgetting the page before him. He slept well; he arose in a cheerful but still dreamy, mood; and without a thought of reluctance he went to his day's work. Allchin met him with a long-drawn face, saying: "She's dead, sir."
"Does he still wish to get back into the grocery business?" "He'd be only too glad, sir, But, of course, any place as you offered him " "Well, it happens," said Warburton, "that it is the grocery business I'm thinking about." "You, sir?" gasped Mrs. Hopper. "I think I shall take Boxon's shop." "You, sir? Take a grocer's shop? You mean, you'd put Allchin in to manage it?" "No, I don't, Mrs.
About this time, Allchin began to observe with anxiety the change in his master's aspect and general behaviour. "I'm afraid you're not feeling quite yourself, sir," he said at closing time one night. "I've noticed lately you don't seem quite well." "Have you? Well, perhaps you are right. But it doesn't matter." "If you'll excuse me, sir," returned the assistant, "I'm afraid it does matter.
And when, on the day after the funeral, brother and sister parted to go their several ways, the sadness they bore with them had no embitterment of brooding regret. A little graver than usual, Will took his place behind the counter, with no word to Allchin concerning the cause of his absence.
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