Henry Dunbar (Mystery Classics Series). Mary Elizabeth Braddon

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СКАЧАТЬ many things that really did happen yesterday.”

      “Let’s hear the story from you, then, Sampson,” Mr. Balderby said. “As Henry Dunbar is coming home in a few days, we may as well know the real truth. We shall better understand what sort of a man our new chief is.”

      “To be sure, sir, to be sure,” returned the old clerk. “It’s five-and-thirty years ago — five-and-thirty years ago this month, since it all happened. If I hadn’t good cause to remember the date because of my own troubles, I should remember it for another reason, for it was the Waterloo year, and city people had been losing and making money like wildfire. It was in the year ‘15, sir, and our house had done wonders on ‘Change. Mr. Henry Dunbar was a very handsome young man in those days — very handsome, very aristocratic-looking, rather haughty in his manners to strangers, but affable and free-spoken to those who happened to take his fancy. He was very extravagant in all his ways; generous and open-handed with money; but passionate and self-willed. It’s scarcely strange he should have been so, for he was an only child; he had neither brother nor sister to interfere with him; and his uncle Hugh, who was then close upon fifty, was a confirmed bachelor — so Henry considered himself heir to an enormous fortune.”

      “And he began his career by squandering every farthing he could get, I suppose?” said Mr. Balderby.

      “He did, sir. His father was very liberal to him; but give him what he would, Mr. Percival Dunbar could never give his son enough to keep him free of gambling debts and losses on the turf. Mr. Henry’s regiment was quartered at Knightsbridge, and the young man was very often at this office, in and out, in and out, sometimes twice and three times a week; and I expect that every time he came, he came to get money, or to ask for it. It was in coming here he met my brother, who was a handsome lad — ay, as handsome and as gentlemanly a lad as the young cornet himself; for poor Joseph — that’s my brother, gentlemen — had been educated a bit above his station, being my mother’s favourite son, and fifteen years younger than me. Mr. Henry took a great deal of notice of Joseph, and used to talk to him while he was waiting about to see his father or his uncle. At last he asked the lad one day if he’d like to leave the bank, and go and live with him as a sort of confidential servant and amanuensis, to write his letters, and all that sort of thing. ‘I shan’t treat you altogether as a servant, you know, Joseph,’ he said, ‘but I shall make quite a companion of you, and you’ll go about with me wherever I go. You’ll find my quarters a great deal pleasanter than this musty old banking-house, I can tell you.’ Joseph accepted this offer, in spite of everything my poor mother and I could say to him. He went to live with the cornet in the January of the year in which the fabricated bills were presented at our counter.”

      “And when were the bills presented?”

      “Not till the following August, sir. It seems that Mr. Henry had lost five or six thousand pounds on the Derby. He got what he could out of his father towards paying his losses, but he could not get more than three thousand pounds; so then he went to Joseph in an awful state of mind, declaring that he should be able to get the money in a month or so from his father, and that if he could do anything just to preserve his credit for the time, and meet the claims of the vulgar City betting fellows who were pressing him, he should be able to make all square afterwards. Then, little by little, it came out that he wanted my brother, who had a wonderful knack of imitating any body’s handwriting, to forge the acceptance of Lord Vanlorme. ‘I shall get the bills back into my own hands before they fall due, Joe,’ he said; ‘it’s only a little dodge to keep matters sweet for the time being.’ Well, gentlemen, the poor foolish boy was very fond of his master, and he consented to do this wicked thing.”

      “Do you believe this to be the first time your brother ever Committed forgery?”

      “I do, Mr. Balderby. Remember he was only a lad, and I dare say he thought it a fine thing to oblige his generous-hearted young master. I’ve seen him many a time imitate the signature of this firm, and other signatures, upon a half-sheet of letter-paper, for the mere fun of the thing: but I don’t believe my brother Joseph ever did a dishonest action in his life until he forged those bills. He hadn’t need have done so, for he was only eighteen at the time.”

      “Young enough, young enough!” murmured Mr. Balderby, compassionately.

      “Ay, sir, very young to be ruined for life. That one error, that one wicked act, was his ruin; for though no steps were taken against him, he lost his character, and never held his head up in an honest situation again. He went from bad to worse, and three years after Mr. Henry sailed for India, my brother, Joseph Wilmot, was convicted, with two or three others, upon a charge of manufacturing forged Bank of England notes, and was transported for life.”

      “Indeed!” exclaimed Mr. Balderby; “a sad story — a very sad story. I have heard something of it before, but never the whole truth. Your brother is dead, I suppose.”

      “I have every reason to believe so, sir,” answered the old clerk, producing a red cotton handkerchief and wiping away a couple of tears that were slowly trickling down his poor faded cheeks. “For the first few years of his time, he wrote now and then, complaining bitterly of his fate; but for five-and-twenty years I’ve never had a line from him. I can’t doubt that he’s dead. Poor Joseph! — poor boy! — poor boy! The misery of all this killed my mother. Mr. Henry Dunbar committed a great sin when he tempted that lad to wrong; and many a cruel sorrow arose out of that sin, perhaps to lie heavy at his door some day or other, sooner or later, sooner or later. I’m an old man, and I’ve seen a good deal of the ways of this world, and I’ve found that retribution seldom fails to overtake those who do wrong.”

      Mr. Balderby shrugged his shoulders.

      “I should doubt the force of your philosophy in this case, my good Sampson,” he said; “Mr. Dunbar has had a long immunity from his sins. I should scarcely think it likely he would ever be called upon to atone for them.”

      “I don’t know, sir,” the old clerk answered; “I don’t know that. I’ve seen retribution come very late, very late; when the man who committed the sin had well nigh forgotten it. Evil trees bear evil fruit, Mr. Balderby: the Scriptures tell us that; and take my word for it, evil consequences are sure to come from evil deeds.”

      “But to return to the story of the forged bills,” said Mr. Austin, the cashier, looking at his watch as he spoke.

      He was evidently growing rather impatient of the old clerk’s rambling talk.

      “To be sure, sir, to be sure,” answered Sampson Wilmot. “Well, you see, sir, one of the bills was brought to our counter, and the cashier didn’t much like the look of my lord’s signature, and he took the bill to the inspector, and the inspector said,’ Pay the money, but don’t debit it against his lordship.’ About an hour afterwards the inspector carried the bill to Mr. Percival Dunbar, and directly he set eyes upon it, he knew that Lord Vanlorme’s acceptance was a forgery. He sent for me to his room; and when I went in, he was as white as a sheet, poor gentleman. He handed me the bill without speaking, and when I had looked at it, he said —

      “‘Your brother is at the bottom of this business, Sampson. Do you remember the half-sheet of paper I found on a blotting-pad in the counting-house one day; half a sheet of paper scrawled over with the imitation of two or three signatures? I asked who had copied those signatures, and your brother came forward and owned to having done it, laughing at his own cleverness. I told him then that it was a fatal facility, a fatal facility, and now he has proved the truth of my words by helping my son to turn forger and thief. That signature must be honoured, though I should have to sacrifice half my fortune to meet the demands upon us. Heaven knows to what amount such paper as that may be in circulation. There are some forged bills that are as good as genuine documents; and the Jew who discounted these knew that. If my son comes into СКАЧАТЬ