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But Joseph Stemm and Sir Thomas were not unlike in character, and had grown old together with too equal a step to admit of separation and of new alliance. Stemm had but one friend in the world, and Sir Thomas was that friend. I have already said that Sir Thomas had no friend; but perhaps he felt more of that true intimacy, which friendship produces, with Stemm than with any other human being.
As he thought of all this Sir Thomas was very unhappy. Ralph had left him at about ten o'clock, and he then sat brooding over his misery for about an hour. It was his custom when he remained in his chambers to tell his clerk, Stemm, between nine and ten that nothing more would be wanted. Then Stemm would go, and Sir Thomas would sleep for a while in his chair.
Then he made his little suggestion in regard to his own personal needs, and of course was blown up for not having come in two hours ago to remind Sir Thomas that it was dinner-time. "It's because I wouldn't disturb you when you has the Bacon papers out, Sir Thomas," said Stemm serenely. Sir Thomas winced and shook his head; but such scenes as this were too common to have much effect.
To Stemm the matter had become so serious, that in speaking of books, papers, and documents he would have recourse to any periphrasis rather than mention in his master's hearing the name of the fallen angel. And yet Sir Thomas was always talking to himself about Sir Francis Bacon, and was always writing his life.
"Yes; packing-cases for the books. It was months ago. Are they ready?" "No, Sir Thomas. They ain't ready." "Why not?" "Well, Sir Thomas; they ain't; that's all." Then the order was repeated in a manner so formal, as to make Stemm understand that it was intended for a fact. "You are going away from this; are you, Sir Thomas?" "I believe that I shall give the chambers up altogether at midsummer.
Then Stemm pointed to a certain table, and after a while slowly followed his own finger. The drawer was unlocked, and under various loose papers there lay four or five loose keys. "Like enough it's one of these," said Stemm. "Of course you knew where it was," said Sir Thomas.
Go down on Thursday and come back on Saturday. I shall be at home. There's a five-pound note for the expenses." Stemm slowly took the note, but grunted and grumbled. The girls were nuisances to him, and he didn't want to take them an outing. They wouldn't care to go before July, and he didn't care to go at all. "You can go when you please," said Sir Thomas.
Stemm had often groaned in silence, had groaned unconsciously, that his master should be nothing. He loved his master thoroughly, loving no one else in the whole world, and sympathised with him acutely. Still he had condemned the project. "There's so many of them, Sir Thomas, as is only wanting to put their fingers into somebody's eyes."
"You can come to Fulham if you like, only you must not scold the maids." "Very well, Sir Thomas," said Stemm, with hardly any variation in his voice, but still with less of care upon his brow. "Mind, I will not have you scolding them at the villa." "Not unless they deserve it, Sir Thomas," said Stemm. Sir Thomas could say nothing further.
He was almost ashamed to show himself at his club, and did for two days absolutely have his dinner brought to him in his chambers from an eating-house. "I'm sure you won't like that, Sir Thomas," Stemm had said to him, expostulating, and knowing very well the nature of his master's sufferings. "I don't know that I like anything very much," said Sir Thomas.
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