None Other Gods | Page 4

moment you cease to be my son. You shall not, while I live, darken my doors again, or sleep under my roof. I say nothing of what you have had from me in the past--your education and all the rest. And, since I do not wish to be unduly hard upon you, you can keep the remainder of your allowance up to July and the furniture of your rooms. But, after that, not one penny shall you have from me. You can go to your priests and get them to support you.
"I am only thankful that your poor mother has been spared this blow.
"T."
Jack made a small murmurous sound as he finished. Frank chuckled aloud.
"Pitches it in all right, doesn't he?" he observed dispassionately.
"If it had been my governor--" began Jack slowly.
"My dear man, it isn't your governor; it's mine. And I'm dashed if there's another man in the world who'd write such a letter as that nowadays. It's--it's too early-Victorian. They'd hardly stand it at the Adelphi! I could have put it so much better myself.... Poor old governor!"
"Have you answered it?"
"I ... I forget. I know I meant to.... No, I haven't. I remember now. And I shan't till I'm just off."
"Well, I shall," remarked Jack.
Frank turned a swift face upon him.
"If you do," he said, with sudden fierce gravity, "I'll never speak to you again. I mean it. It's my affair, and I shall run it my own way."
"But--"
"I mean it. Now! give me your word of honor--"
"I--"
"Your word of honor, this instant, or get out of my room!"
There was a pause. Then:
"All right," said Jack.
Then there fell a silence once more.
(II)
The news began to be rumored about, soon after the auction that Frank held of his effects a couple of days later. He carried out the scene admirably, entirely unassisted, even by Jack.
First, there appeared suddenly all over Cambridge, the evening before the sale, just as the crowds of undergraduates and female relations began to circulate about after tea and iced strawberries, a quantity of sandwich-men, bearing the following announcement, back and front:
TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
THE HON. FRANK GUISELEY has pleasure in announcing that on JUNE 7TH (Saturday) at half-past ten a.m. precisely in Rooms 1, Letter J, Great Court, Trinity College, he will positively offer for
SALE BY AUCTION
_The household effects, furniture, books, etc., of the Hon. Frank Guiseley, including_--
A piano by Broadwood (slightly out of tune); a magnificent suite of drawing-room furniture, upholstered in damask, the sofa only slightly stained with tea; one oak table and another; a bed; a chest of drawers (imitation walnut, and not a very good imitation); a mahogany glass-fronted bookcase, containing a set of suggestive-looking volumes bound in faint colors, with white labels; four oriental mats; a portrait of a gentleman (warranted a perfectly respectable ancestor); dining-room suite (odd chairs); numerous engravings of places of interest and noblemen's seats; a
_Silver Cigarette-box and fifteen Cigarettes in it (Melachrino and Mixed American_); a cuckoo-clock (without cuckoo); five walking-sticks; numerous suits of clothes (one lot suitable for Charitable Purposes); some books--all VERY CURIOUS indeed--comprising the works of an Eminent Cambridge Professor, and other scholastic luminaries, as well as many other articles.
AT HALF-PAST TEN A.M. PRECISELY All friends, and strangers, cordially invited. NO RESERVE PRICE.
It served its purpose admirably, for by soon after ten o'clock quite a considerable crowd had begun to assemble; and it was only after a very serious conversation with the Dean that the sale was allowed to proceed. But it proceeded, with the distinct understanding that a college porter be present; that no riotous behavior should be allowed; that the sale was a genuine one, and that Mr. Guiseley would call upon the Dean with further explanations before leaving Cambridge.
The scene itself was most impressive.
Frank, in a structure resembling an auctioneer's box, erected on the hearth-rug, presided, with extraordinary gravity, hammer in hand, robed in a bachelor's gown and hood. Beneath him the room seethed with the company, male and female, all in an excellent humor, and quite tolerable prices were obtained. No public explanations were given of the need for the sale, and Jack, in the deepest dismay, looked in again that afternoon, about lunch-time, to find the room completely stripped, and Frank, very cheerful, still in his hood and gown, smoking a cigarette in the window-seat.
"Come in," he said. "And kindly ask me to lunch. The last porter's just gone."
Jack looked at him.
He seemed amazingly genial and natural, though just a little flushed, and such an air of drama as there was about him was obviously deliberate.
"Very well; come to lunch," said Jack. "Where are you going to dine and sleep?"
"I'm dining in hall, and I'm sleeping in a hammock. Go and look at my bedroom."
Jack went across the bare floor and looked in. A hammock was slung across