Davenport Dunn, a Man of Our Day. Volume 2. Lever Charles James

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СКАЧАТЬ the ready, I ‘ll buy the Cathedral and the Cursaal. I ‘m not particular as to the investment when the cash is easily come at.”

      “De cash is very easy to come at,” said the Jew, with a strange grin.

      “You ‘re a trump, Lazarus!” cried Beecher, in ecstasy at his good fortune. “If I had known you some ten years ago, I ‘d have been another man to-day. I was always looking out for one really fair, honester-hearted fellow to deal with, but I never met with him till now.”

      “How you have it, – gold or notes?” said Lazarus.

      “Well, a little of both, I think,” said Beecher, his eyes greedily devouring the glittering little columns of gold before him.

      “How your title? – how your name?” asked Stein, taking up a pen.

      “My name is Annesley Beecher. You may write me the ‘Honorable Annesley Beecher.’”

      “Lord of – ”

      “I ‘m not Lord of anything. I’m next in succession to a peerage, that’s all.”

      “He call you de Viscount – I forget de name.”

      “Lackington, perhaps?”

      “Yaas, dat is de name; and say, give him de moneys for his bill. Now, here is de acceptance, and here you put your sign, across dis.”

      “I ‘ll write Annesley Beecher, with all my heart; but I ‘ll not write myself Lackington.”

      “Den you no have de moneys, nor de Cuyp, nor de Ostade,” said the Jew, replacing the pen in the ink-bottle.

      “Just let me ask you, old boy, how would it benefit you that I should commit a forgery? Is that the way you like to do business?”

      “I do know myself how I like my business to do, and no man teach me.”

      “What the devil did Davis mean, then, by sending me on this fool’s errand? He gave me a distinct intimation that you ‘d cash my acceptance – ”

      “Am I not ready? You never go and say to der Davis dat I refuse it! Ah, der Davis!” and he sighed as if from the very bottom of his heart.

      “I’ll tell him, frankly, that you made it a condition I was to sign a name that does not belong to me, —that I ‘ll tell him.”

      “What care he for dat? Der Davis write his own name on it and pay it hisself.”

      “Oh! and Davis was also to indorse this bill, was he?” asked Beecher.

      “I should tink he do; oderwise I scarce give you de moneys.”

      “That, indeed, makes some difference. Not, in reality, that it would n’t be just as much a forgery; but if the bill come back to Grog’s own hands – ”

      “Ach, der Grog, – ha! ha! ha! ‘Tis so long dat I no hear de name, – Grog Davis!” and the Jew laughed till his eyes ran over.

      “If there’s no other way of getting at this money – ”

      “Dere is no oder way,” said Lazarus, in a tone of firmness..

      “Then good-morning, friend Lazarus, for you ‘ll not catch me spoiling a stamp at that price. No, no, old fellow. I ‘m up to a thing or two, though you don’t suspect it. I only rise to the natural fly, and no mistake.”

      “I make no mistake; I take vaary goot care of dat,” said Lazarus, rising, and taking off his fez, to say adieu. “I wish you de vaary goot day.”

      Beecher turned away, with a stiff salutation, into the garden. He was angry with Davis, with himself, and with the whole world. It was a rare event in his life to see gold so much within his reach and yet not available, just for a scruple – a mere scruple – for, after all, what was it else? Writing “Lackington” meant nothing, if Lack-ington were never to see, much less to pay the bill. Once “taken up,” as it was sure to be by Grog, what signified it if the words across the acceptance were Lackington or Annesley Beecher? And yet, what could Davis mean by passing him off as the Viscount? Surely, for such a paltry sum as a couple of thousand florins, it was not necessary to assume his brother’s name and title. It was some “dodge,” perhaps, to acquire consequence in the eyes of his friend Lazarus that he was the travelling-companion of an English peer; and yet, if so, it was the very first time Beecher had known him yield to such a weakness. He had a meaning in it, that much was certain, for Grog made no move in the game of life without a plan! “It can’t be,” muttered Beecher to himself, – “it can’t be for the sake of any menace over me for the forgery, because he has already in his hands quite enough to push me to the wall on that score, as he takes care to remind me he might any fine morning have me ‘up’ on that charge.” The more Beecher ruminated over what possible intention Davis might have in view, the more did he grow terrified, lest, by any short-comings on his own part, he might thwart the great plans of his deep colleague.

      “I never met his equal yet to put a fellow in a cleft stick,” muttered Beecher, as he walked to and fro in intense agitation, “and he’s just the man also, whenever anything goes wrong, not to listen to a word of explanation. ‘Why didn’t you do as I bade you?’ or, ‘As I ordered you?’ for that’s his phrase generally. ‘Who told you that you had any option in the matter? Did I take you into consultation? Play up to my hand!’ that’s his cry. ‘Play up to my hand, and never mind your own!’ Well, I have been doing so some ten or twelve years back, and a nice game I’ve made of it! Break with him! – of course I’d break with him, if any one would tell me how! Egad, sometimes I begin to think that transportation and the rest of it would not be a bit harder to bear than old Grog’s tyranny! It wears one out, – it positively drains a man’s nature dry!” There are volcanic throes, that, however they may work and struggle, throw up no lava; so with Beecher. All his passionate indignation could not rouse him to action, although his actual suffering might have prompted energy to any amount. He took out Davis’s letter and re-read it. One line which had escaped his attention before, now caught his eye on the blank leaf. It ran thus: “Take care that you do not delay at Aix after receipt of this. Benson’s fellows are after you.” A cold shudder came over Beecher as he perused the line. Benson’s fellows meant bailiffs, detectives, or something of the like. Benson was a money-lender of the most inveterate villany, – a fellow who had pursued more men of station and condition than any one living. He was the terror of the “swells.” To be in Benson’s hands meant ruin in its most irretrievable shape; and at the very moment he stood there his minions were on his track!

      Ere he was well aware of it, he was back at the little window of the cottage.

      “I must have this money on your own terms, Stein,” said he. “I find that Davis has some urgent need of my presence. I can’t delay here another day.”

      “How many tousend gulden, milord?” asked the Jew respectfully, as he dipped his pen in the ink-bottle.

      “Davis says two – I should like to say four, or even five.”

      “Five if you wish it, milord; to me is it all as one – five, fifteen, or fifty; whatever sum you want.”

      Beecher put his hand on the other’s wrist to detain him while he took a moment’s counsel with himself. Never had such a golden opportunity as this presented itself. Never before had he seen the man who so generously proffered his services. It was ask and have. Was he to reject such good fortune? – СКАЧАТЬ