The Tenants of Malory. Volume 2. Le Fanu Joseph Sheridan

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СКАЧАТЬ mo-o-st beautiful, you 'av, ma'am," answered he; "and I am your son's best friend – and yours, ma'am; only you tell me where to find him, and he'sh a made man, for all his dayzh."

      "Where has he come from? – a stranger," she murmured.

      "I told you, ma'am."

      "I don't know you, sir; I don't know your name," she dreamed on.

      "Benjamin Levi. I'll spell it for you, if you like," he answered, beginning to grow testy. "I told you my name, and showed you my ca-a-ard. Bah! it ravels at one end, as fast as it knits at the other."

      And again he held the card of the firm of Goldshed and Levi, with his elbows on the table, between the fingers of his right and left hand, bowed out like an old-fashioned shopboard, and looking as if it would spring out elastically into her face.

      "There, ma'am, that'sh the ticket!" said he, eyeing her over it.

      "Once, sir, I spoke of business to a stranger, and I was always sorry; I did mischief," said the old woman, with a vague remorsefulness.

      "I'm no stranger, ma'am, begging your pardon," he replied, insolently; "you don't half know what you're saying, I do think. Goldshed and Levi – not know us; sich precious rot, I never!"

      "I did mischief, sir."

      "I only want to know where to find your son, ma'am, if you know, and if you won't tell, you ruin that poor young man. It aint a pound to me, but it'sh a deal to him," answered the good-natured Mr. Levi.

      "I'm very sorry, sir, but I once did mischief by speaking to a gentleman whom I didn't know. Lady Verney made me promise, and I'm sure she was right, never to speak about business without first consulting some member of her family. I don't understand business – never did," pleaded she.

      "Well, here's a go! not understaan'? Why, there's nothing to understaan'. It isn't business. S-o-n," he spelt "son. H-u-s-b-a-n-d —uzbaan' that aint business – da-a-m me! Where's the business? Ba-ah!"

      "Sir," said the old lady, drawing herself up, "I've answered you. It was about my husband – God help me – I spoke before, and did mischief without knowing it. I won't speak of him to strangers, except as Lady Verney advises – to any stranger – especially to you, sir."

      There was a sound of steps outside, which, perhaps, modified the answer of Mr. Levi. He was very much chagrined, and his great black eyes looked very wickedly upon her helpless face.

      "Ha, ha, ha! as you please, ma'am. It isn't the turn of a shilling to me, but you ru-in the poo-or young man, your son, for da-a-am me, if I touch his bushinesh again, if it falls through now; mind you that. So, having ruined your own flesh and blood, you tell me to go as I came. It's nau-thing to me – mind that – but ru-in to him; here's my hat and stick – I'm going, only just I'll give you one chance more for that poor young man, just a minute to think again." He had stood up, with his hat and cane in his hand. "Just one chance – you'll be sending for me again, and I won't come. No – no – never, da-a-am me!"

      "Good evening, sir," said the lady.

      Mr. Levi bit his thumb-nail.

      "You don't know what you're a-doing, ma'am," said he, trying once more.

      "I can't, sir – I can't," she said, distractedly.

      "Come, think – I'm going —going; just think – what do you shay?"

      He waited.

      "I won't speak, sir."

      "You won't?"

      "No, sir."

      He lingered for a moment, and the red sunlight showed like a flush of anger on his sallow face. Then, with an insolent laugh, he turned, sticking his hat on his head, and walked down the stairs, singing.

      Outside the hatch, he paused for a second.

      "I'll get it all another way," he thought. "Round here," he said, "wasn't it – the back way. Good evening, you stupid old crazy cat," and he saluted the windows of the steward's house with a vicious twitch of his cane.

      CHAPTER IV

      MR. BENJAMIN LEVI RECOGNISES AN ACQUAINTANCE

      Mr. Benjamin Levi, having turned the corner of the steward's house, found himself before two great piers, passing through the gate of which he entered the stable-yard, at the further side of which was a second gate, which he rightly conjectured would give him access to that back avenue through which he meant to make his exit.

      He glanced round this great quadrangle, one end of which was over-looked by the rear of the old house, and that quaint old refectory with its clumsy flight of stone steps, from the windows of which our friend Sedley had observed the ladies of Malory while engaged in their garden work.

      There was grass growing between the paving stones, and moss upon the walls, and the stable doors were decaying upon their rusty hinges. Commenting, as so practical a genius naturally would, upon the surrounding capabilities and decay, Mr. Levi had nearly traversed this solitude when he heard some one call, "Thomas Jones!" twice or thrice, and the tones of the voice arrested him instantly.

      He was a man with a turn for musical business, and not only dabbled in concerts and little operatic speculations, but, having a naturally musical ear, had a retentive memory for voices – and this blind man's faculty stood him in stead here, for, with a malicious thrill of wonder and delight, he instantly recognised this voice.

      The door of that smaller yard which is next the house opened now, and Sir Booth Fanshawe entered, bawling with increased impatience – "Thomas Jones!"

      Sir Booth's eye lighted on the figure of Mr. Levi, as he stood close by the wall at the other side, hoping to escape observation.

      With the same instinct Sir Booth stepped backward hastily into an open stable door, and Mr. Levi skipped into another door, within which unfortunately, a chained dog, Neptune, was dozing.

      The dog flew the length of his tether at Mr. Levi's legs, and the Jewish gentleman sprang forth more hastily even than he had entered.

      At the same moment, Sir Booth's pride determined his vacillation, and he strode boldly forward and said —

      "I think I know you, sir; don't I?"

      As there was still some little distance between them, Mr. Levi affected near-sightedness, and, compressing his eyelids, smiled dubiously, and said —

      "Rayther think not, sir. No, sir – I'm a stranger; my name is Levi – of Goldshed and Levi – and I've been to see Mrs. Mervyn, who lives here, about her young man. I don't know you, sir – no – it is a mishtake."

      "No, Mr. Levi – you do know me – you do," replied Sir Booth, with a grim oath, approaching, while his fingers clutched at his walking-stick with an uneasy gripe, as if he would have liked to exercise it upon the shoulders of the Israelite.

      "Oh! crikey! Ay, to be sure – why, it's Sir Booth Fanshawe! I beg pardon, Sir Booth. We thought you was in France; but no matter, Sir Booth Fanshawe, none in the world, for all that little bushiness is blow'd over, quite. We have no interest – no more than your horse – in them little securities, upon my shoul; we sold them two months ago to Sholomons; СКАЧАТЬ