"You have no news, I suppose," continued the young man, with a slight flush, born of pride or expectation.
"No, nothing as yet." Mr. Gashwiler paused as if a thought had struck him.
"I have thought," he said, finally, "that some position--such as a secretaryship with me--would help you to a better appointment.
Now, supposing that I make you my private secretary, giving you some important and confidential business. Eh?"
Dobbs looked at his patron with a certain wistful, dog-like expectancy, moved himself excitedly on his chair seat in a peculiar canine-like anticipation of gratitude, strongly suggesting that he would have wagged his tail if he had one. At which Mr. Gashwiler became more impressive.
"Indeed, I may say I anticipated it by certain papers I have put in your charge and in your name, only taking from you a transfer that might enable me to satisfy my conscience hereafter in recommending you as my--ahem!--private secretary. Perhaps, as a mere form, you might now, while you are here, put your name to these transfers, and, so to speak, begin your duties at once."
The glow of pride and hope that mantled the cheek of poor Dobbs might have melted a harder heart than Gashwiler's. But the senatorial toga had invested Mr. Gashwiler with a more than Roman stoicism towards the feelings of others, and he only fell back in his chair in the pose of conscious rectitude as Dobbs hurriedly signed the paper.
"I shall place them in my portman-tell," said Gashwiler, suiting the word to the action, "for safe keeping. I need not inform you, who are now, as it were, on the threshold of official life, that perfect and inviolable secrecy in all affairs of State"--Mr. G. here motioned toward his portmanteau as if it contained a treaty at least--"is most essential and necessary."
Dobbs assented. "Then my duties will keep me with you here?" he asked doubtfully.
"No, no," said Gashwiler hastily; then, correcting himself, he added: "that is--for the present--no!"
Poor Dobbs's face fell. The near fact was that he had lately had notice to quit his present lodgings in consequence of arrears in his rent, and he had a hopeful reliance that his confidential occupation would carry bread and lodging with it. But he only asked if there were any new papers to make out.
"Ahem! not at present; the fact is I am obliged to give so much of my time to callers--I have to-day been obliged to see half a dozen--that I must lock myself up and say 'Not at home' for the rest of the day." Feeling that this was an intimation that the interview was over, the new private secretary, a little dashed as to his near hopes, but still sanguine of the future, humbly took his leave.
But here a certain Providence, perhaps mindful of poor Dobbs, threw into his simple hands--to be used or not, if he were worthy or capable of using it--a certain power and advantage. He had descended the staircase, and was passing through the lower corridor, when he was made the unwilling witness of a remarkable assault.