Chapter 45: Chapter 45

Mr Pryor and Mr Taylor were not the only ones to receive a note calling them to a

meeting. The crossing boy had come in with such an invitation for Gabriel. He could

not, or would not say who had given him the sealed envelope, but Gabriel was

summoned to a grocer's shop in William St.

There he was to meet someone who was very anxious to consult him and receive his

advice. He decided to go and meet this mysterious person. If Amy had walked

into the office at that moment he would have taken her too. It was the sort of mystery

she enjoyed,

The grocer's shop he found in William Street was the same number as on the note so

he walked in.

It looked like an ordinary grocery. A broad wooden counter, scrubbed every day.

Behind the counter were shelves to the ceiling laden with brightly coloured cartons of

food. Tinned and bottled jam, marmalade, conserves. Light cartons of breakfast oats

and similar food were stacked high up, near the ceiling, and beyond the reach of

anyone standing on the floor, or even on a chair.

No problem, they could be brought down by using a pole with a blunt hook on the end

so as not to damage the carton. The grocer hooked the top of the carton and it would

fall off the shelf and be caught dextrously on the way down.

There were other shelves too stacked with packets of nutritious food. At least the

manufacurers or importers claimed they were nutritious, as one could read on the

labels

Weighing scales were mounted on the counter. A pleasant aroma permeated the air in

the shop from opened wooden cases of tea. Chinese, Indian, and Ceylonese teas were

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present and each had a tin scoop lying on top of the merchandise. The crates had

separate linen cloth covers to hold in the aroma and keep out dust.

There were two assistants with neck to knee white aprons and a man with a square

cut black beard and a white apron from his waist to just above the floor.

The black bearded man was writing with the stub of a pencil in a book he had on the

counter. He looked up when Gabriel came in, smiled and put the book to one side.

''Mr Fox,'' he said ''It's good to see you again. The gentleman who asked for a private

conference is in the store room. When you have finished we'll have a chat, talk about

old times, and I have some very good advice for you. Come with me.''

Gabriel had no idea who this man was, but was ushered through a door at the back of

the shop. The man did not come in. Instead he shut the door as he departed leaving

Gabriel in the store room.

A window let in enough light to see the clutter of stores that surrounded him. Most

surprising of all was to see Mr Samuel Jobley, Mr Pryor's principal opponent at the

Victorian Parliamentary Elections.

Mr Jobley was sitting on a small wooden barrel marked 'Pickled Herrings, but

someone had been kind enough to supply him with a leather covered cushion.

His right boot was missing. In its place his foot was heavily swathed with bandages.

Neither man was eager to start talking. Gabriel was wondering why he was there, and

a pause ensued until Mr Jobleysaid, ''I owe you an apology. I thought you were drunk

and had attacked me by throwing tomatoes. I am sorry, it was not so.''

Gabriel nodded to acknowledge the man's apology, but said nothing., surely there was

more to their meeting than this.

Mr Jobley bit his lower lip and continued. "There is something I must ask you about

the persons who actually threw the tomatoes -- wharf labourers, I understand. Mr

Jones, the detective told me that you know them quite well, even though you had

nothing to do with their blackguardly actions and tried to prevent it. I must admit that

I was astonished that a gentlemanly young man such as you should know these

persons but, nevertheless,you can tell me something about them. Were they

intoxicated at the time? Had they been in some hotel with their friends and become

inflamed with drink before they decided to interrupt my parade?"

Gabriel did not know. It seemed most likely the two men had called in to a few pubs

on their way to the market to gather up some rotten tomatoes, and probably

afterwards as well. ''Why Mr Jobley was so concerned about this point he could not

understand. If they were drunk at the time of the outrage surely this would provide

the material for some powerful new speeches; the knowledge seemed unimportant,

not enough to call for a secret meeting in the back room of a grocer's shop.

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"I don't believe in doctors," said Mr Jobley, apparently speaking at random, "Nor in

hospitals. Good food, clean air, and total abstinence from alcohol in any form are the

three great pillars on which one can build a long and healthful life. If the body is

treated as a temple of good living then one can worship at the shrine therein."

He was about to go on but Gabriel interrupted. "I don't want to be rude, but did you

bring me here to discuss the evils of alcohol, or was there something else you wanted

to mention?"

Look at my foot,'' said Mr Jobley "I suffer from gout. It seems unkind and unfair that a

total abstainer, such as myself, should should be a lifelong martyr to this affliction

usually associated with men who drink heavily. My father was a victim of the same

malady, yet I learned abstinence from him and my dear mother. I fear this is a family

weakness and I am doomed to suffer, but no doubt the Lord has some good reason for

visiting this painful affliction on the men of my family. Fortunately I suffer only

occasionally and there are long periods when I am free of pain, this is why I thought I

would be able to take part in the election campaign. I thought at first the Lord has

allowed me a period of grace because of the importance of my work, but then why has

he laid another great burden on me?"

Gabriel was always uneasy when encountering those who discussed their reactions to

God's will, as though on intimate terms with the almighty.

'As well as this the whole meeting so far, such as it was, seemed pointless. He was

sorry to hear that Mr Jobley was a sufferer from gout but did not see why had been

brought to Mr Gladman's shop to discuss the man's ailments or his views on the

practice of medicine. "In what way can I help you," he asked, making it pretty

clear, he thought, the sooner Mr Jobley got to the point of the discussion the better he

would be pleased.

"I must know about these wharf labourers," said Mr Jobley, lowering his voice and

glancing round. "I am interested to learn if they are on a course of a particular kind of

medicine. Do you happen to know, sir, if either of those men buys a certain tonic from

a Dr Smith who has an office in Collins Street East? Its trade name is 'Dr Smith's

Miracle Cure' and, to identify it further the doctor advertises it as 'The Colonial Elixir'.

It is important that I know."

Gabriel looked at him in astonishment and the merchant hurriedly continued. "It was

a revelation to me but Mr Jones told me the stuff is strongly alcoholic, highly

addictive, and this acquaintance of yours actually gets drunk merely taking it as a

medicine. You must tell me, had he been drinking the Miracle Cure when he assaulted

me? "

"He could have been," said Gabriel, still mystified as to where all this was leading.

"You're right, it wasn't me threw the tomatoes at you, it was these men, and one of

them, I know, drinks the medicine every time he can get his hands on a bottle; it

would be a lot cheaper to get drunk on beer than that stuff. It was him that broke Mr

Gladman's windows and I know he had drunk several bottles of it that day.''

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On hearing this information Mr Jobley's expression changed and he began to gasp and

clutch at his cravat as though about to have a heart attack. Gabriel put out a hand to

support him while he sank back on to the barrel.

"This is dreadful," gasped Mr Jobley, "dreadful! The leaflet that comes with the bottle

specifically mentions gout as one of the conditions it cures; and I have been drinking

it in all innocence."

"You mean you've been dosing yourself on Dr Smith's Cure? Man, you'll be an addict if

you drink that stuff for too long."

Mr Jobley sat in the chair with his head bowed in his hands. Gabriel looked at him for

a while. "You are addicted," he said. "You took this stuff because you thought it might

help you with your gout and now you can't give it up. Is that right?"

Mr Jobley nodded miserably. "I have tried doctors here and in England, dozens of

them. I have drunk the waters at Bath, I sleep every night with my feet higher than my

head so the blood will drain from my feet. I have been dosed with this and that,

purged, bled, starved -- everything -- all to no avail. Then about a year ago I saw a

display of this stuff in a shop window and thought it worth trying. It certainly made

me feel better and I have been taking larger doses night and morning, and during the

day as well, until I began to crave for it. I thought that strange until Mr Jones told me

about this wharf labourer who drinks it constantly and how it was heavily infused

with alcohol and he was probably drunk at the time, merely from taking medicine.

The information was like a thunderclap to me and I swore never, ever to touch the

evil brew again. I had a bottle in the office and I tipped the contents out but now I am

racked with fevers and pains and I have fallen! fallen! Since that dreadful day I have

drunk several bottles of the hellish concoction; and you have confirmed what Mr

Jones had to say; it does contain alcohol -- what am I to do?"

Gabriel looked down at Dr Smith's unfortunate victim. He did not know what to say

but it occurred to him that Mr Jobley would now be able to make some splendid

orations on the subject of unfortunate people craving for a drink. He would be

speaking from personal experience.

"I will have to give up all pretensions to being a member of parliament," said the

unfortunate gentleman. "How can I condemn drunkeness when I too am a victim? I

shall write to the returning officer and say that I will not be contesting the election; of

course that means Mr Pryor will become the Member for this area. It is unfortunate,

but what else can I do?"

At first Gabriel was selfishly pleased at this result of Mr Jobley's misfortune. James

Pryor would be able to get back to work if he did not have to campaign for office; he

could handle some of the growing volume of business now laid on Gabriel and the

clerks. Gabriel contemplated this prospect for a moment then another thought came

to mind. If there was to be no further campaigning perhaps the publicans, and Mr

Briggs's committee, and the other subscribers would want their money back.

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Of course their donations had all been spent; gone to finance the campaign so far, and

on other projects connected with the activites of the office. James Pryor always relied

on cash income to get through his financial difficulties and he would be found out if

pressed for refunds. Whatever happened Mr Jobley must be persuaded not to

withdraw from the race. Winning or losing was not important as long as he stayed

there.

Gabriel thought for a minute and leaned down to pat him on the shoulder. He wished

he was as persuasive as James Pryor but he could not send for that young man to

change Mr Jobley's decision and induce him to continue in the election race.

"Things can't be that bad," he said. "You must have converted a lot of drunks in your

time. I suppose you told them how to give up drink; now you have to talk to yourself

in the same way."

the man shook his head. "Very few -- very few. Most drunkards I encountered were

hardened in their sin. They mocked me and my fellow workers when we tried to turn

them away from their sad addiction; many said they enjoyed drinking and told us to

mind our own business."

"But you have hundreds of followers; I saw them in Bourke Street the other night,

think how many of those you have saved from a life of drunkeness; how did you

convert all them?"

Mr Jobley shook his head. "I didn't. Most come from homes where drink is unknown.

There is no more powerful protector from the workings of booze than a good mother.

Out of all my followers only four or five at the most are truly converts. The others fall

back into their old ways or mock us when we try to raise them from the depths of

sin."

Gabriel could understand that. Probably most of the people Mr Jobley and his

followers tried to convert were comfortable in the 'depths of sin', they probably liked

it down there and did not want to listen to the preaching of a bunch of fanatics; they

would sooner have another drink.

He decided to try again. "But you are not like these, Mr Jobley. You truly want to break

yourself of this unfortunate liking for the Miracle Cure, and if you perservere and

succeed what a triumph that will be for the cause of temperance. I think you should

stay in the election and boldly go out and tell the voters how you were nearly snared

yourself by drink in a new and dangerous form. You can warn them about these quack

medicines that are laced with alcohol. Why, it is a whole new theme you can explore

in your speeches." Gabriel began to see the possibilities in this latest revelation and

enlarged on the subject. He could not help but believe that James Pryor would have

been proud of him.

"Think," He continued, "Of the new audience you could reach. You could appeal to the

thousands of people who must be taking rubbishy medicines and remedies at this

very moment; they should be told they may be drinking alcohol without knowing

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about it. Victoria needs you in parliament, Mr Jobley, to fight the publicans and

brewers and also the manufacturers and vendors of patent medicines."

This was a revelation to Mr Jobley, that out of his tribulation might come fresh

opportunities of spreading the message of temperance. He sat up straight on his

barrel and barely winced as a lance of pain pierced his foot. He looked at Gabriel.

"Perhaps the Lord has done this to me for that very reason; that I should make my

own error known to the people and save them from falling into the same pit into

which I have tumbled. Sufferers who take medicine are not hardened drinkers like so

many I have to deal with. I can speak and warn them against the perilous path in

which they are all so unwittingly treading."

"No doubt about it; I think that's what the Lord had in mind. Don't withdraw from the

election, Mr Jobley. Go out instead and proclaim Your message; and you can hammer

it home in parliament, too."

Mr Jobley, ignoring the pain, shook Gabriel's hand. "How plain it is now," he cried'

"You could be a messenger from the Lord making all clear and straightening out the

crooked ways before me. Of course! In my vanity I could not see that this tribulation

was laid on me for a purpose; whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and now I must go

out before all the world to carry the message of temperance to an even wider

audience than before. I shall be strong; not another drop of the devil brew shall pass

my lips. I shall sally forth and confront Doctor Smith in his very den; plead with him

to cease dispensing this vile brew, or at least remove from the recipe all trace of

alcohol. Thank you Mr Fox; I thank you with all my heart for your words that have

saved me from abandoning the great crusade of temperance. How bitter I would have

felt in my heart if I had yielded the ramparts of truth to the enemy just because of a

single setback. Now I can defend them with new heart; I can sally forth into the field

right up to the ranks of the ungodly themselves."

The man was transformed. Once again he shook Gabriel by the hand and pointed out

a pair of crutches which Gabriel handed to him and helped him up. With a shining face

he hobbled out of the store room to order someone to go out and get a cab. One of the

assistants ran outside while the others stared.

Mr Jobley pointed at Gabriel. ''A messenger of the Lord came to tell me not to take the

coward's way and run from the battle. The pain I suffer is for my own good and

reminds me of the long and difficult road ahead. First I must go and plead with Dr

Smith to be temperate and permit his customers to be temperate also."

A cab had arrived at the door and they all assisted Mr Jobley up the steps and into the

vehicle. As he left they could see a crutch being waved out the window.

When he had gone the man with the beard led Gabriel back into the store room. ''Do

you mind if I sit on the barrel?'' he said. ''I'm still not used to standing all day. You

don't remember me, do you?'' he said, sitting down.

Gabriel shook his head.

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''I was your bank manager at the Occidental and Civic.''

Gabriel studied him closely. ''Good Lord, so you are! What are you doing managing a

grocery?''

''When you saw me last I was broken, shocked. I didn't know what to do. Your friend,

Pryor, shook me awake. I didn't send any more money to London and scooped out

enough to pay the staff, at least for another week. I emptied my own personal account,

and took the cash None of the board members complained because an examination of

the books showed the Australian branch was not at fault.''

''How did you get into the grocery business?''

I couldn't get a job in banking. Everyone knew I was not at fault, but the collapse was

so unexpected, so sudden. so spectacular no one wanted to have me on their staff, I

was associated with failure. But Sam Jobley threw me a lifeline. He's a great man is

Sam, a true friend. He tells me that when his office manager retires next year I can

have the job.

''But tell me about yourself, how long have you been a messenger of God?''

''Oh, about five minutes. Sam suddenly promoted me after we finished our

discussion.''

''What did you say to him?''

''I really can't tell you. I feel like a priest in the confessional box. Ask him yourself, I'm

sure he'll reveal everything.

''Alright, I'm glad you respect him and are ready to keep his secrets. Now I'm going to

give you some advice. First, keep your partner in check, I nearly collapsed when I saw

the ads in the paper and all that rubbish about millions of pounds in reserve. It's false

advertising and if anything goes wrong you'll both be held responsible, because

you're partners.”

“I remember he offered me a job in your office, but I didn't want it because I thought

your business was too rickety and fly by night. I didn't want to be associated with two

financial disasters, one was enough.”

''Now he wants to start a bank.''

''For God's sake stop him! Owning a building society with no capital is bad enough,

but to add a bank with no capital is asking for disaster. I know your partner could talk

himself out of jail, but he may not be able to get you out too.''

''My guess is that if you can keep Mr Pryor on the straight and narrow for the next ten

years, while investing wisely, and within your means, you will have enough backing to

start a bank, even then I wouldn't advise it. But hold him in check as long as you can.''

''But I must tell you how pleased I am for the way you brought Sam back to life. He's a

good man and I was worried for him, but not any more. And if you can find the time

come and see me now and then. I would be grateful, and your partner too.''

''Well,'' said Gabriel “I'm glad to meet you again, and I'll take your advice and tell

James to stop dreaming and get on with what he does best, selling things.''

''Good! And as a mark of gratitude Jobley's Provision Stores are giving you a box of

groceries, and as you couldn't carry it through the streets we'll pay for a, cab to take

you and your box of groceries home and the cabby will carry it inside for you.''