Chapter 6

THE REWARD OF INORDINATE AMBITION.

Frank Mathers had hours of dejection. Like every other person, he had his faults. In one of these fits of depression he grew impatient. Then, his ambition turned in the wrong direction. He was seized with a mania for getting rich quickly.

How to proceed, he did not know.

At last he thought that if he could invent something useful, and patent it, he would soon acquire what he so much desired to possess. Now, there are thousands who are constantly trying to do as much, but they are as likely to succeed as they were when they first began.

Frank was one day walking along a country lane when he perceived a cow which had broken loose.

She galloped about, her tail erect, her head lowered.

He pursued the animal, and after a prolonged chase and much dodging and capering on the part of both, he managed to grasp the rope which was tied round the brute's horns. He held it tightly and proceeded to tether his captive. But when he had driven the peg in the ground, he noticed that it was very easily pulled up.

He pondered over this as he proceeded towards his home. Suddenly, he slapped his forehead. "I have it," he said to himself. "I will have a peg, which, when being driven, will go all right, but when pulled about, will release two small prongs at the sides. This will make it impossible for anyone to pull it up; a small knob will be affixed which, when turned, will replace the prongs, and the peg will come out in a jiffy."

"Ah!" he went on thinking, "this would be a useful thing, an article which would command a ready sale. Besides, it would be used wherever a good gripping peg would be necessary."

He was enthusiastic. His mind was already full of different schemes which he would start when he had acquired fame and riches.

When he came home, he was so sure of success that he imparted his idea to his step-mother, with whom he was not generally very confidant.

Poor Frank! the volley of mockery which he received quite baffled him.

"So you think to make your fortune in that way," she said. "No, no, my boy, you never will."

"But don't you see that it's a most useful thing, that----"

"Stop, stop," she interrupted, "don't make me laugh. Do you think that people are going to listen to your nonsense? Why! your peg would get clogged with earth and would not act."

"Wouldn't it though, at any rate, it's worth thinking over, so I'll do that."

"If you choose to spend your money in that fashion, you can do so," retorted the lady, smiling contemptuously.

"You won't laugh at me this day month," thought Frank as he made his exit.

Once alone again, he grew more determined than ever. His mind was completely dazzled with the bright future before him.

Next morning, he posted a letter to an inventor's agency in London. He stated that he had invented something he knew would be useful, and very much in demand if manufactured. The letter went on to detail in full length the "safety peg." Then he went on to say that he would very much like to have it patented and if they would kindly send terms and advice in the course of a mail or two, he would be thankful.

Two days afterwards, he hoped to receive the joyful news. "They will certainly write soon,--such a valuable article--besides, they have an interest in its being patented," he said to himself.

He accordingly watched for the postman, and as soon as he saw him, his heart beat wildly. To think that he had the precious missive. He approaches, and now he is going to open the gate,--no, he passes without even looking in the direction of the house.

"Surely he must be forgetting," thought Frank, and he shouted: "Mr. Pedvin, have you any letter for me?"

"No; not to day," said the postman--and he went on his way.

"What are they up to now?" thought the youth, "they ought to make haste. I'll wait till to-morrow, and if I don't receive any news, I'll send them a note, and a pretty sharp one too."

Next day he again watched for the postman's arrival. He felt miserable; the state of uncertainty in which he was, caused him to be depressed. Still he could not imagine that the letter would contain anything contrary to his hopes.

The idea was so far from his wishes that he shook it away at once; he could not even bear to think of it.

But the postman came not, and it was now ten o'clock. He remembered with pain that the day before he had passed by at half-past nine.

"I must attend to my work," he thought, "he will come presently." He went about the greenhouse, watering his plants, but every other minute he opened the door and anxiously watched for the bringer of good news to put in an appearance.

He came at last. He handed a letter to Frank who ran towards him to receive it.

"You seem very much in earnest," remarked the postman, "maybe it's a love-letter. And from London too," he added noticing the post mark.

"I'm not so foolish as that," said Frank; as if such letters were below his dignity; "this is about an invention which I am going to have patented."

The postman showed the whites of his eyes, then turned on his heels and continued his journey.

Frank tore open the envelope, unfolded the letter and read:--

"London.

"We are in receipt of your letter of the 3rd instant, and have much pleasure in informing you that your invention has not, to our best knowledge, been patented or manufactured.

"We think it would prove very well in rural districts.

"The best way for you, would be to secure it by provisional protection for nine months.

"Please forward us L2 10s., and we will send you, at our earliest possible convenience, the necessary documents."

"Hurrah!" shouted Frank joyfully. "I'll send them the money as soon as I can."

He read the letter a second time to make sure that his eyes had not deceived him. Suddenly he stopped reading. No, it was not in the letter. A thought had struck him. "I will have to mention the money matter to my step-mother, for she keeps the keys of my drawer," he said in a soliloquy.

He went into the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Mathers were there. Frank flourished the letter in his hand and exclaimed: "My invention is likely to be a success." And, holding the letter in both his hands, he read it to his parents.

He emphasized the points that were in his favour, with all the force which he was capable of displaying.

Mrs. Mathers looked satisfied enough till her step-son came to the money matter. Here her face lengthened and as soon as he had finished reading she said: "Clever people; they think they are going to pocket all this money with a few words of flattering."

"Someone must pay for the one pound stamp and other expenses," answered Frank.

"After all this spending of money, perhaps it would not prove," rejoined Mrs. Mathers.

"We won't know if we don't try," retorted Frank; "people don't make fortunes staring about them with their hands in their pockets."

"But you don't mean to say," almost angrily said Mrs. Mathers, "that you would send them your money in that fashion?"

"I do," answered the young man in a decided tone. He was growing impatient at what he thought to be a wanton check of progress on his step-mother's part.

Here, Mr. Mathers left the room without having said a word.

Frank watched him disappear and then remarked: "Do you think these people are going to work for nothing? They would be fools."

"Oh! 'tis not _they_ who are fools," sarcastically remarked his step-mother.

The young man waxed hot. His whole being was rising in wrath within him. He, however, mastered his passions. It was his duty to bend, and he did so. "If I could convince her, if I could make her feel as I myself feel," he thought.

For one minute he was silent, not knowing how to begin the speech that was to bring conviction into her soul.

"Ah!" he thought as he looked at his step-mother who had resumed her work as if the debate was settled, "she checks me when I try to push myself; she tries to nip my plans in the bud. When, with a few words of encouragement, I might soon be a rising man. But I must convince her--I must. If I don't succeed in doing it, I will act alone. The money is mine, why should I not be able to do what I like with it. If, however, I could bring her to think as I do."

"I have always tried to push myself," he began in a somewhat tender and pleading tone, "and you never give me one word of encouragement or praise."

Mrs. Mathers looked up: "You try in the wrong direction," she said, "earn money by all means, but don't throw it away like a simpleton."

Unheeding this, Frank resumed: "If I do not try and make life a success I don't know anyone who will do it for me. I have studied. Many an evening have I sat up with my books thinking of the use my knowledge would be to me in future life; many an outing have I denied myself for the sake of studying; many a pleasure have I sacrificed for the sake of acquiring knowledge. I did not care, work did not seem heavy, because it carried with it a hope of future happiness. I worked on till late in the evening. I rose early in the morning to resume my studies. And, if sometimes I felt discouraged, worn out by the ceaseless toil, I said to myself: 'Take courage--science is bitter but its fruit is sweet.' I have tried to cultivate myself as much as possible, to fill my mind with all that is noble, pure, and elevating--to acquire good habits by shunning bad society and by reading good books--in short, I have sacrificed my past self for the sake of my future self.

"And now (his tone grew inexpressibly sad), when I try to gather a few of the fruits which I have grown, you throw yourself between fortune and me.

"It is exactly as I was reading in a book the other day, in which the writer said: 'The cause of many failures is that men wait for something to turn up instead of turning up something for themselves'----"

"You and your books," ejaculated Mrs. Mathers,--"but I'll have no more of this begging and grumbling; do as you like, throw your money to the dogs, give it to whomsoever you choose. Perhaps, when you know the value of money, you will learn to appreciate it more. For my part, I will have nothing more to do about this tomfoolery."

Frank left the room with a light heart. He was free, at liberty to do whatever he chose. He chuckled to himself: "Liberty _is_ sweet. I will now show them what I can do when I have no one to hinder me. However, I will wait a day or two before sending the money. I must not act too quickly,--I will think it over."

He went about his work. He felt that manual labour was almost below his dignity now. What! he, an inventor--a benefactor of mankind--the probable millionaire of years to come--he, who would soon be looked upon as the foremost man of the island, pointed at and envied by everyone--watering tomatoes. Oh! it certainly was below his rank. However, he would work yet for a few days and then, well then he would appear in his proper sphere.

Poor fellow, he had yet another of life's lessons to learn. He little imagined the crushing blow that was to fall on him and scatter all his hopes.

That evening he went to bed with his head brim full of ideas and plans for the future. His heart overflowed with delight. He dreamt of nothing but inventions, huge fortunes and fame.

Next morning, when he awoke, his head had cleared, but his ideas were the same. He never doubted for a moment the certainty of his success.

During the course of the morning there were instants in which he felt less confident. What if he did not succeed--what would his step-mother say--what would he himself do, he who had made this scheme part of his being. But he would prosper, why, here (looking at the letter) was the opinion of people who had been amongst inventions for years.

A shadow seemed to cross the path of the greenhouse. "I think someone has passed by," he thought, "I will go and see." Suiting the action to the thought, he sprang at the door and opened it. What was his astonishment to see the postman. Two days following! it was an event, for they seldom received letters.

On hearing the noise which Frank made on opening the door, the postman turned round and handed him a letter. He was agreeably surprised to see that it was from the inventors' agency, but his delight was soon changed into bitter anger and bitterest disappointment when he had read its contents. It was worded thus:

"London.

"DEAR SIR,--We are sorry to inform you that the invention we were about to patent for you, had, we have just found out, been patented before.

"The inventor, we have learned, ruined himself in trying to push it."

He read it twice over. Alas! it was too true. Sadly and mournfully he went into the house, there to think of his misfortune.

He entered the little parlour, threw himself on a chair, took the letter from his pocket and re-read it.

He crumpled the letter in his hand and exclaimed: "'Tis too true, there is not the slightest hope; ah! this is indeed a cloud with no silver lining."

He rose, paced the room in an agitated state and muttered: "But yesterday, I thought myself a rising man, now, I have utterly failed; that upon which I had set my heart, upon which my thoughts had dwelt and upon which my hopes had been built, has fallen to the ground."

"Such joy ambition finds," something seemed to echo within him.