The Splendid Outcast. Gibbs George

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СКАЧАТЬ "No worse than the devil made me. And ye're well again, they tell me, or so near it that ye're no longer interesting."

      "Stronger every day," replied Horton cautiously.

      "Then we can have a talk, maybe, without danger of it breaking the spring in yer belfry?"

      "Ah, yes, – but I'm a bit hazy at times," added Horton.

      "Well, when the fog comes down, say the word and I'll be going."

      "Don't worry. I want to hear the news."

      Quinlevin frowned at his walking stick. "It's little enough, God knows." Then glanced toward the invalid at the next window and lowered his voice a trifle.

      "The spalpeen says not a word – or he's afflicted with pen-paralysis, for I've written him three times – twice since I reached Paris, giving him the address. So we'll have to make a move."

      "What will you do?"

      "Go to see him – or you can. At first, ye see, I thought maybe he'd gone away or died or something. But I watched the Hôtel de Vautrin in the Rue de Bac until I saw him with my own eyes. That's how I took this bronchitis – in the night air with devil a drink within a mile of me. I saw him, I tell you, as hale and hearty as ye please, and debonair like a new laid egg, with me, Barry Quinlevin, in the rain, not four paces from the carriage way."

      The visitor paused as though for a comment, and Horton offered it.

      "He didn't see you?"

      "Devil a one of me. For the moment I thought of bracing him then and there. But I didn't – though I was reduced to a small matter of a hundred francs or so."

      "Things are as bad as that – ?"

      Quinlevin shrugged. "I bettered myself a bit the next night and I'll find a way – "

      He broke off with a shrug.

      "But I'm not going to be wasting my talents on the little officer-boys in Guillaume's. Besides, 'twould be most unpatriotic. I'm out for bigger game, me son, that spells itself in seven figures. Nothing less than a coup d'état will satisfy the ambitions of Barry Quinlevin!"

      "Well?" asked Horton shrewdly.

      "For the present ye're to stay where ye are, till yer head is as tight as a drum, giving me the benefit of yer sage advice. We'll worry along. The rent of the apartment and studio is a meager two hundred francs and the food – well, we will eat enough. And Moira has some work to do. But we can't be letting the Duc forget I've ever existed. A man with a reputation in jeopardy and twenty millions of francs, you'll admit, is not to be found growing on every mulberry bush."

      Horton nodded. It was blackmail then. The Duc de Vautrin —

      "You wrote that you had a plan," he said. "What is it?"

      Barry Quinlevin waved a careless hand.

      "Fair means, as one gentleman uses to another, if he explains his negligence and remits the small balance due. Otherwise, we'll have to squeeze him. A letter from a good lawyer – if it wasn't for the testimony of Nora Burke!"

      He was silent in a moment of puzzled retrospection and his glittering generalities only piqued Jim Horton's curiosity, so that his eagerness led him into an error that nearly undid him.

      "Nora Burke – " he put in slowly.

      "I wrote ye what happened – "

      "I couldn't have received the letter – "

      He stopped abruptly, for Quinlevin was staring at him in astonishment.

      "Then how the devil could ye have answered it?"

      Horton covered the awkward moment by closing his eyes and passing his fingers across his brow.

      "Answered it! Funny I don't remember."

      The Irishman regarded him a moment soberly, and then smiled in deprecation.

      "Of course – ye've slipped a cog – "

      Then suddenly he clapped a hand on Horton's knee.

      "Why, man alive, – Nora Burke – the Irish nurse who provides the necessary testimony – Moira's nurse, d'ye mind, when she was a baby, who saw the Duc's child die – now do ye remember – ?"

      Horton ran his fingers over his hair thoughtfully and bent his head again.

      "Nora Burke – Moira's nurse – who saw the Duc's child die," he repeated parrot-like, "and the Duc – de Vautrin – " he muttered and paused.

      "Thinks his child by this early marriage is still alive – " said Quinlevin, regarding him dubiously.

      "Yes, yes," said Horton eagerly. "It's coming back to me now. And de Vautrin's money – "

      "He'll pay through the nose to keep the thing quiet – unless – "

      Barry Quinlevin paused.

      "Unless – what?"

      There was a moment of silence in which the visitor frowned out of the window.

      "I don't like the look of things, I tell ye, Harry. Ye're in no fit shape to help 'til the fog clears up, but I've a mind that somebody's slipped a finger into the pie. Nora Burke wants more money – five hundred pounds to tell a straight story and where I'm going to get it – the devil himself only knows."

      "Nora Burke – five hundred pounds!" muttered Horton vaguely, for he was thinking deeply, "that's a lot of money."

      "Ye're right – when ye haven't got it. And de Vautrin's shutting down at the same time. It looks suspicious, I tell ye."

      He broke off and fixed his iridescent gaze on Horton. "Ye're sure ye said nothing to any one in Paris before ye went to the front?"

      Of this at least Jim Horton was sure.

      "Nothing," he replied.

      "Not to Piquette Morin?"

      Here was dangerous ground again.

      "Nothing," he repeated slowly, "nothing."

      "And ye wouldn't be remembering it if ye had," said Quinlevin peevishly as he rose. "Oh, well – I'll have to raise this money some way or go to Galway to put the gag on Nora Burke until we play the trick – "

      "I – I'm sorry I can't help – " said Horton, "but you see – I'm not – "

      "Oh, yes, I see," said Quinlevin more affably. "I shouldn't be bothering ye so soon, but may the devil take me if I know which way to turn."

      "Will you see de Vautrin?"

      "Perhaps. But I may go to Ireland first. I've got to do some thinking – alone. Good bye. Ye're not up to the mark. Be careful when Moira comes, or ye may let the cat out of the bag. D'ye hear?"

      "Don't worry – I won't," said Horton soberly.

      He watched the tall figure of Quinlevin until it disappeared into the outer hall and then turned a frowning gaze out of the window.

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