The Sorrows of Satan. Мария Корелли

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СКАЧАТЬ I myself remembered, but who had seen me as a motherless baby in my nurse’s arms, had left me everything he possessed unconditionally, including several rare collections of pictures, jewels and curios. His will was so concisely and clearly worded that there were no possibilities of any legal hair-splitting over it,—and I was informed that in a week or ten days at the utmost everything would be in order and at my sole disposition.

      “You are a very fortunate man Mr Tempest;”—said the senior partner Mr Bentham, as he folded up the last of the papers we had been looking through and put it by—“At your age this princely inheritance may be either a great boon to you or a great curse,—one never knows. The possession of such enormous wealth involves great responsibilities.”

      I was amused at what I considered the impertinence of this mere servant of the law in presuming to moralize on my luck.

      “Many people would be glad to accept such responsibilities and change places with me”—I said with a flippant air—“You yourself, for example?”

      I knew this remark was not in good taste, but I made it wilfully, feeling that he had no business to preach to me as it were on the responsibilities of wealth. He took no offence however,—he merely gave me an observant side-glance like that of some meditative crow.

      “No Mr Tempest, no”—he said drily—“I do not think I should at all be disposed to change places with you. I feel very well satisfied as I am. My brain is my bank, and brings me in quite sufficient interest to live upon, which is all that I desire. To be comfortable, and pay one’s way honestly is enough for me. I have never envied the wealthy.”

      “Mr Bentham is a philosopher,”—interposed his partner, Mr Ellis smiling—“In our profession Mr Tempest, we see so many ups and downs of life, that in watching the variable fortunes of our clients, we ourselves learn the lesson of content.”

      “Ah, it is a lesson that I have never mastered till now!” I responded merrily—“But at the present moment I confess myself satisfied.”

      They each gave me a formal little bow, and Mr Bentham shook hands.

      “Business being concluded, allow me to congratulate you,” he said politely—“Of course, if you should wish at any time to entrust your legal affairs to other hands, my partner and myself are perfectly willing to withdraw. Your deceased relative had the highest confidence in us…”

      “As I have also, I assure you,”—I interrupted quickly—“Pray do me the favour to continue managing things for me as you did for my relative, and be assured of my gratitude in advance.”

      Both little men bowed again, and this time Mr Ellis shook hands.

      “We shall do our best for you, Mr Tempest, shall we not Bentham?” Bentham nodded gravely. “And now what do you say—shall we mention it Bentham?—or shall we not mention it?”

      “Perhaps,” responded Bentham sententiously—“it would be as well to mention it.”

      I glanced from one to the other, not understanding what they meant. Mr Ellis rubbed his hands and smiled deprecatingly.

      “The fact is Mr Tempest, your deceased relative had one very curious idea—he was a shrewd man and a clever one, but he certainly had one very curious idea—and perhaps if he had followed it up to any extent, it might—yes, it might have landed him in a lunatic asylum and prevented his disposing of his extensive fortune in the—er—the very just and reasonable manner he has done. Happily for himself and—er—for you, he did not follow it up, and to the last he retained his admirable business qualities and high sense of rectitude. But I do not think he ever quite dispossessed himself of the idea itself, did he Bentham?”

      Bentham gazed meditatively at the round black mark of the gas-burner where it darkened the ceiling.

      “I think not,—no, I think not,” he answered—“I believe he was perfectly convinced of it.”

      “And what was it?” I asked, getting impatient—“Did he want to bring out some patent?—a new notion for a flying-machine, and get rid of his money in that way?”

      “No, no, no!” and Mr Ellis laughed a soft pleasant little laugh over my suggestion—“No, my dear sir—nothing of a purely mechanical or commercial turn captivated his imagination. He was too,—er—yes, I think I may say too profoundly opposed to what is called ‘progress’ in the world to aid it by any new invention or other means whatever. You see it is a little awkward for me to explain to you what really seems to be the most absurd and fantastic notion,—but—to begin with, we never really knew how he made his money, did we Bentham?”

      Bentham shook his head and pursed his lips closely together.

      “We had to take charge of large sums, and advise as to investments and other matters,—but it was not our business to inquire where the cash came from in the first place, was it, Bentham?”

      Again Bentham shook his head solemnly.

      “We were entrusted with it;”—went on his partner, pressing the tips of his fingers together caressingly as he spoke—“and we did our best to fulfil that trust—with—er—with discretion and fidelity. And it was only after we had been for many years connected in business that our client mentioned—er—his idea;—a most erratic and extraordinary one, which was briefly this,—that he had sold himself to the devil, and that his large fortune was one result of the bargain!”

      I burst out laughing heartily.

      “What a ridiculous notion!” I exclaimed—“Poor man!—a weak spot in his brain somewhere evidently,—or perhaps he used the expression as a mere figure of speech?”

      “I think not;”—responded Mr Ellis half interrogatively, still caressing his fingers—“I think our client did not use the phrase ‘sold to the devil’ as a figure of speech merely, Mr Bentham?”

      “I am positive he did not,”—said Bentham seriously—“He spoke of the ‘bargain’ as an actual and accomplished fact.”

      I laughed again with a trifle less boisterousness.

      “Well, people have all sorts of fancies now-a-days”—I said; “What with Blavatskyism, Besantism and hypnotism, it is no wonder if some folks still have a faint credence in the silly old superstition of a devil’s existence. But for a thoroughly sensible man…” “Yes—er, yes;”—interrupted Mr Ellis—“Your relative, Mr Tempest, was a thoroughly sensible man, and this—er—this idea was the only fancy that ever appeared to have taken root in his eminently practical mind. Being only an idea, it seemed hardly worth mentioning—but perhaps it is well—Mr Bentham agreeing with me—that we have mentioned it.”

      “It is a satisfaction and relief to ourselves,”—said Mr Bentham, “to have had it mentioned.”

      I smiled, and thanking them, rose to go. They bowed to me once more, simultaneously, looking almost like twin brothers, so identically had their united practice of the law impressed itself upon their features.

      “Good-day Mr Tempest,”—said Mr Bentham—“I need scarcely say that we shall serve you as we served our late client, to the best of our ability. And in matters where advice may be pleasant or profitable, we may possibly be of use to you. May we ask whether you require any cash advances immediately?”

      “No, thank you,”—I answered, feeling grateful to my friend Rimânez for having placed me in a perfectly independent СКАЧАТЬ