The clerk, however, did not confirm this;
and one thing was indisputable: Willy retained his place in the
banking-house. Some people looked on this fact as a complete refutation
of the rumour.
Then came a lull. Nothing was heard of Willy; that is, nothing beyond the
reports of Mrs. Gum to her gossips when letters arrived: he was well, and
getting on well. It was only the lull that precedes a storm; and a storm
indeed burst on quiet Calne. Willy Gum had robbed the bank and
disappeared.
In the first dreadful moment, perhaps the only one who did _not_
disbelieve it was Clerk Gum. Other people said there must be some
mistake: it could not be. Kind old Lord Hartledon came down in his
carriage to the clerk's house--he was too ill to walk--and sat with
the clerk and the weeping mother, and said he was sure it could not be
so bad as was reported. The next morning saw handbills--great, staring,
large-typed handbills--offering a reward for the discovery of William
Gum, posted all over Calne.
Once more Clerk Gum went to London. What he did there no one knew. One
thing only was certain--he did not find Willy or any trace of him. The
defalcation was very nearly eight hundred pounds; and even if Mr. Gum
could have refunded that large sum, he might not do so, said Calne, for
of course the bank would not compound a felony. He came back looking ten
years older; his tall, thin form more shadowy, his nose longer and
sharper.
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