Conscience Money

TERE are few spots more lonely than a Cornish lane in winter-time at that hour when the day slips imperceptibly over the edge of evening into night. From the five-barred gate on which I leaned, fields fell away before me to the cliff. And so to the Atlantic, with nothing but a toppling post-and-rail to give a sign of man. Slowly my ear took in a quick and measured throbbing which seemed to come up from the amphi- theatre down below. " Some pilchard party hurrying to tea," I thought, for Cornishmen use sail no longer. And then, with ear cocked sideways, I realized that the noise was coming to me from the road which coasts the sea.

How easily do we become the slaves of our environment ! I had mistaken the throbbing of a two-seater for a fishing boat's auxiliary : an error natural enough, for in this empty corner of the earth there are probably five-and-twenty fishing boats to every motor-car. For that very reason I had no doubt that the car belonged to the genial Irishman who cares for our bodies in these parts. It is the noisiest, most ill-conditioned little run-about in all the county. The doctor is a good practitioner but a bad mechanic. His acquaintance with the internal combustion engine is limited principally to swear words. He waved me recognition as the hedge-gap gave him view.

" You're far enough from paints and brushes to-night ! " he cried, with a hint at my profession. And then, as if a sudden thought had come to him, " And, by the Lord ! Unless you're busier than you seem to be, you're just the man I'm wanting."

He stopped the riotous engine of the little car, the better to put his case..

" Would you help me do a service to a poor chap who's due to meet his Maker in the next few hours ? "

- I told him I was at his disposal.

" That's good," he said. " That's very good. I had scarcely hoped to get it done until to-morrow, but he'll sleep easier if we get through with it to-night."

The doctor bent to the starting handle of his car.

" You're in no hurry ? " he asked with bended back. " 'Tis a five-mile drive and then there's the business to be done."

I told him that I had no need for hurry and should enjoy the drive.

" Good again ! " he cried. " I'll tell you all about it as we move."

Some vigorous turns of the handle and the engine coughed uneasily. " She'll be better when she goes downhill,"' he exclaimed reassuringly as we jumped in. Backing the car across the lane, he turned with the grace of 'a hay-wagon and headed southward on his tracks.

About a mile away the road forked, and, as we rattled up a lane that seemed to lead to nowhere, the Doctor told. his story. " 'Tis a small thing I want of you," he began, " just the witnessing of an old man's signature. You may wonder why I have to bring a man five miles for that. Truth is, my patient has an aversion to his fellow-men, especially if they be his neighbours. 'Tis a queer old boy he is, named Eli Roberts : an ex-River Policeman from London who has been on pension now for fifteen years. I hope he did his duty by the Force when he was young, for the Government have done their duty well by him since he retired. Fifteen by fifty-two is—. call it eight hundred. Eight hundred weeks and his pension is 28s. 4d Well, it's considerably over £1,000 anyway. The cottage called The Rowans' on the edge of Mr. Jones's Park is his. For ten years now he's lived in it, and he never goes outside the garden gate except to lay in stores or draw his pension."

A disc-harrow, clanging down the lane at the tail of an unruly cart-colt, made the evening hideous with its din.

When we had drawn away I sought more information about the ex-policeman.

" It's dying fast he is," went on the doctor. " A wasting frame that must have rest and immobility. There's the trouble ! The old boy should be waited on hand and foot, yet here he is out of bed every night and morning hotting up his cocoa. He'll have no one but my Nurse Robins near him. ' You send your nuss in once a day to fettle me cop. I'll do the rest,' is what I get when I suggest companionship. His will is all drawn up and only wants the signing. 'Tis on his mind, too, one can see. I offered to get a man who lives nearby to be the other witness of his signature. The old boy wouldn't hear of it. ' I'll have no folk that live nearby in here. A stranger, doctor : a stranger, for the love of Mary,' he begged.. That's why I worried you."

A turn from the road ; a by-lane lined with naked hazels and " The Rowans " loomed ahead of us in bat- infested solitude. Night was dropping fast, but there was light enough to see two rowan trees which stood sentinel in all the splendour of their blood-red fruit, beside the cottage gate.

In some parts, farmers plant these rowan trees beside their cattle sheds to ward off evil from the beasts. The superstitious even hang the berried boughs inside the cow-house. Irony, indeed, that this gloomy cottage of a dying pensioner should be guarded by dispellers of ill-luck !

The doctor beached his car with the near-side wheels in the ditch. " We shan't be five minutes," he said as he, stumped up the neglected path.

Inside the cottage all was still and very dark. To me it seemed that we had surely come too late. But the doctor gave a hail.

" Hullo, Roberts. What about a light ? "

A high-pitched voice from above bade us come along up and bring some matches with us.

" Lord ! what a way to die," the doctor mumbled as he climbed ahead of me upstairs.

He found two candles, and, when my eyes had grown accustomed to the gloom, I made out the figure of a man propped among the pillows on the bed. He wore a garment like a flannel smock drawn tight at neck and wrists. The face was of the colour known as " water- green " ; shaven but lately, though by whom I could not guess. What hair remained upon the head was white, cut close in ridges by the scissors of an amateur.

The doctor felt his patient's pulse. It was no easy matter, as I could see. Then, by way of introducing me, he said : " This gentleman has come with me to witness the signing of yOur will, Roberts. You have it ready, I hope ?"

The old man looked long at me. " You're kind," he said at last. " You're kind to come, sir." Then to the doctor, " Ay, doctor. It's ready. It's ready.

I have it here." - He fumbled beneath the pillows and produced a sixpenny will form such as stationers provide to take the guineas 'from solicitors. The old man had just strength to unfold it. Then alarm lit up his face.

" You ha'n't goinl to read it, are you ? " he piped.

" Read it ? No," replied the doctor. " What should we want to read it for ? " He handed his fountain pen to the old man. " You put your name on that line there and my friend and I will add ours lower down."

The pen was taken shakily. Then a sudden thought seized the old man. " But ye'll see me name. Ye'll see me name," he shrieked.

" Well, and why not ? " inquired the doctor testily. " No, no. Ye mustn't see me name. I'll not sign it if ye're to see me name."

I leaned across and took the will form from the helpless hands. It was too pitiful.

" Look here, Mr. Roberts," I said. " You put your name to it and fold it over—so. Then the doctor and I will sign our names down here."

It was done, and the precious form returned beneath the pillows. .

The doctor was very quiet as we drove home. Only once did he speak and then as much to himself as to me. " There are some of them ye cannot help," he said. " Old Eli Roberts : look at him now, the way he is ! I know his pension is 28s. 4d., and the neighbours say he has plenty more besides. He is hopelessly under- nouriShed and very, very sick. Yet he will not let me send him to a hospital and he even threatens to have the law on me if I attempt to run a stethoscope over his chest."

The good-hearted fellow sighed as we drew up at my front door. " Good night," he said. " Good night and very many thanks."

Before we parted I extracted a promise that I should be told how the poor old creature fared.

* * * * In less than twenty-four hours the promise was redeemed. I was writing when I heard the doctor's car draw up. He strode in and threw a will form on my table.

" I thought you'd like to see that before I lodge it with a magistrate," he said. " The patient died this morning leaving something over £700 behind in gold and Bank of England notes." ' I unfolded the will form. The printed formula was ignored, but in the ample space after the words " I herewith give and bequeath " was written :— to the Primb- Minister of England everything. Youl find it in the iron box in the long cubberd. I had it from the government and it belongs to them. Eli Roberts died in London ten years back. I had him put away quiet and drawd his pension regular. His wife.

And then, above the fold that I had niade : Hannah Alice Roberts. GEOFFREY BRADLEY.