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Updated: May 23, 2025
If I wait till Saturday, will you come with me to Como? Shergold did not at once reply. He was walking hurriedly, and making rather strange movements with his head and arms. They came into the shadow of the vaulted way beneath London Bridge Station.
Again the door was opened to him by the landlady's daughter; she stood looking keenly in his face, her eyes smiling and yet suspicious. 'Mr. Shergold in? he asked carelessly. 'No, he isn't. There was a strange bluntness about this answer. The girl stood forward, as if to bar the entrance, and kept searching his face. 'When is he likely to be? 'I don't know. He didn't say when he went out.
His next letter from Shergold came in about ten days; it informed him very briefly that the writer was 'about to be married, and that in less than a week he would have started with his wife on a voyage round the world. Harvey did not reply; indeed, the letter contained no address. One day in November he was accosted at the club by his familiar bore. 'So your friend Shergold is dead? 'Dead?
'Yes, I will come. Shergold spoke with unnecessary vehemence and laughed oddly. 'What's the matter with you? his friend asked. 'Nothing the change of circumstances, I suppose. Let's get on. Let us go somewhere I can't help reproaching myself; I ought to feel or show a decent sobriety; but what was the old fellow to me? I'm grateful to him. 'There's nothing else on your mind?
* A grandson of William Shergold, Robert Jardine Browning, graduated at Lincoln College, was called to the Bar, and is now Crown Prosecutor in New South Wales; where his name first gave rise to a report that he was Mr. Browning's son, while the announcement of his marriage was, for a moment, connected with Mr. Browning himself.
If so, there's an end of my hopes. I couldn't go among people after that. 'I don't see why not. But your solicitor will probably manage the affair. They have their methods, Munden added drily. Early the next morning Shergold despatched a telegram to Maze Pond, addressed to his landlady. It said that he would be kept away by business for a day or two.
'Remarkably suggestive, Shergold, the name of the street in which you have been living. Well, you don't go back there? 'No. I have come to my senses. I shall go to an hotel for to-night, and send presently for all my things. 'To be sure, and on Saturday or on Friday evening, if you like, we leave England. It was evident that Shergold rejoiced with trembling.
"The law as it was did not distinguish between a case of the kind just related, of the starving, sorely-tempted Shergold, and that of the systematic thief: sheep-stealing was a capital offence and the man must be hanged, unless recommended to mercy, and we know what was meant by 'mercy' in those days.
One evening in late December a drover arrived at Chitterne with a flock of sheep which he was driving to Tilshead, another downland village several miles away. He was anxious to get to Tilshead that night and wanted a man to help him. Shergold was on the spot and undertook to go with him for the sum of fourpence.
The girl, he declared, had fallen in love with him during conversations across the counter; her happiness was in his hands, and he would not betray it. She had excellent dispositions; he would educate her. The friends quarrelled about it, and Shergold led home his bride. With the results which any sane person could have foretold.
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