Stand Fast, Craig-Royston! (Volume III). William Black

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СКАЧАТЬ a second he paused at the door to take out his card-case; then, without uttering a word, he stepped forward and placed his card on the table. Vincent was rather surprised at this form of introduction; but of course he took up the card. He read thereon. 'Mr. Joseph de Lara.'

      "Oh, really," said he (but what passed through his mind was – 'Is that confounded woman going to persecute me on shore as well as at sea?'). "How do you do? Very glad to make your acquaintance."

      "Oh, indeed, are you?" the other said, with a peculiar accent, the like of which Vincent had never heard before. "Perhaps not, when you know why I am here. Ah, do not pretend! – do not pretend!"

      Vincent stared at him, as if this were some escaped lunatic with whom he had to deal.

      "Sir, I am here to call you to account," said the little foreigner, in his thick voice. "It has been the scandal of the whole ship – the talk of all the voyage over – and it is an insult to me – to me – that my wife should be spoken of. Yes, you must make compensation – I demand compensation – and how? By the only way that is known to an Englishman. An Englishman feels only in his pocket; if he does wrong, he must pay; I demand from you a sum that I expend in charity – "

      Vincent who saw what all this meant in a moment, burst out laughing – a little scornfully.

      "You've come to the wrong shop, my good friend!" said he.

      "What do you mean? What do you mean?" the little dark man exclaimed, with an affectation of rising wrath: "Look at this – I tell you, look at this!" He drew from his pocket one of the photographs which had been taken on board the steamer, and smacked it with the back of his hand. "Do you see that? – the scandal of the whole voyage! My wife compromised – the whole ship talking – you think you are to get off for nothing? No! No! you do not! The only punishment that can reach you is the punishment of the pocket – you must pay."

      "Oh, don't make a fool of yourself!" said Vincent, with angry contempt. "I've met members of your profession before. But this is too thin."

      "Oh – too thin? You shall find out!" the other said, vindictively – and yet the black and beady eyes behind the pince-nez were impassive and watchful. "There, on the other side of my card, is my address. You can think over it. Perhaps I shall see you to-morrow. If I do not – if you do not come there to give the compensation I demand, I will make this country too hot to hold you – yes, very much too hot, as you shall discover. I will make you sorry – I will make you sorry – you shall see – "

      He went on vapouring in this fashion for some little time longer, affecting all the while to become more and more indignant; but at length Vincent, growing tired, walked to the door and opened it.

      "This is the way out," he said curtly.

      Mr. de Lara took the hint with a dignified equanimity.

      "You have my address," he said, as he passed into the corridor; "I do not wish to do anything disagreeable – unless I am compelled. You will think over it; and I shall see you to-morrow, I hope. I wish to be friendly – it will be for your interest, too. Good night!"

      Vincent shut the door and went and sate down, the better to consider. Not that he was in the least perturbed by this man's ridiculous threats; what puzzled him – and frightened him almost – was the possible connection of the charming and fascinating Mrs. de Lara with this barefaced attempt at blackmail. But no; he could not, he would not, believe it! He recalled her pretty ways, her frankness, her engaging manner, her good humour, her clever, wayward talk, her kindness towards himself; and he could not bring himself to think that all the time she had been planning a paltry and despicable conspiracy to extort money, or even that she would lend herself to such a scheme at the instigation of her scapegrace husband. However, his speculations on these points were now interrupted by the arrival of the dinner-hour; and he went below to the table d'hôte.

      During dinner he thought that a little later on in the evening he would go along to Lexington Avenue, and call on a lawyer whose acquaintance he had made on a former visit to New York. He might by chance be at home and disengaged; and an apology could be made for disturbing him at such an unusual hour. And this, accordingly, Vincent did; found that Mr. Griswold was in the house; was shown into the study; and presently the lawyer – a tall, thin man, with a cadaverous and deeply-lined face and cold grey eyes – came in and received his unexpected visitor politely enough.

      "De Lara?" said he, when Vincent had told his story. "Well, yes, I know something of De Lara. And a very disagreeable fellow he is to have any dealings with."

      "But I don't want to have any dealings with him," Vincent protested, "and I don't see how there should be any necessity. The whole thing is a preposterous attempt at extortion. If only he were to put down on paper what he said to me this evening, I would show him something – or at least I should do so if he and I were in England."

      "He is not so foolish," the lawyer said. "Well, what do you propose to do? – compromise for the sake of peace and quietness?"

      "Certainly not," was the instant reply.

      "He's a mischievous devil," said Mr. Griswold, doubtfully. "And of course you don't want to have things said about you in newspapers, however obscure. Might get sent over to England. Yes, he's a mischievous devil when he turns ugly. What do you say now? – for the sake of peace and quietness – a little matter of a couple of hundred dollars – and nobody need know anything about it – "

      "Give a couple of hundred dollars to that infernal scoundrel? – I will see him d – d first!" said Vincent, with a decision that was unmistakeable.

      "There's no reason why you should give him a cent – not the slightest," the lawyer went on. "But some people do, to save trouble. However, you will not be remaining long in this city; I see it announced that you are going on a tour through the United States and Canada."

      "The fact is, Mr. Griswold," said Vincent, "I came along – at this unholy hour, for which I hope you will forgive me – not to ask you what I should do about that fellow's threats – I don't value them a pin's-point – but merely to see if you knew anything about those two – "

      "The De Lara's?"

      "Yes, what does he do, to begin with? What's his occupation – his business?"

      "Nominally," said Mr. Griswold, "he belongs to my own profession; but I fancy he is more mixed up with some low-class newspapers. I have heard, indeed, that one of his sources of income is levying black-mail on actresses. The poor girls lose nerve, you understand: they won't fight; they would rather 'see' him, as the phrase is, than incur his enmity."

      "Well, then, what I want to know still more particularly," the young man proceeded, "is this: is Mrs. de Lara supposed to take part in these pretty little plans for obtaining money?"

      The lawyer smiled.

      "You ought to know her better than I do; in fact, I don't know her at all."

      Vincent was silent for a second.

      "No; I should not have imagined it of her. It seems incredible. But if you don't know her personally, perhaps you know what is thought of her? What is her general reputation?"

      "Her reputation? I can hardly answer that question. I should say," Mr. Griswold went on, in his slow and deliberate manner, "that there is a kind of – a kind of impression – that, so long as the money was forthcoming, Mrs. de Lara would not be too anxious to inquire where it came from."

      "She was at the Captain's table!" Vincent СКАЧАТЬ