Ричард Марш
A Master of Deception

CHAPTER XVI
THOMAS AUSTIN, SENIOR

Miss Joyce came into Mr. Elmore's bedroom the next morning before he was out of it. As a matter of fact, he was arranging his tie before the looking-glass with that nice care which is becoming to a young gentleman of looks.

"There's a gentleman come to see you-a Mr. Austin. I should say from the look of him that he's the father of the Miss Austin who was here last evening."

"The thing is possible."

"I don't know what he's come about."

"It's conceivable that you soon will know if you keep your ear close enough to my sitting-room door. Mr. Austin has rather a hearty way of speaking."

"Don't you talk to me like that! You know I've never played the spy on you yet, and you know I never will. But don't you make any mistake about last night. Mr. Dale's got that paper you wrote and my letter in a sealed envelope, and if you don't turn up on Thursday you'll be sorry."

"Thank you so much for the information. Now, let me clearly understand. If, as you put it, I do turn up on Thursday, what is going to happen-after the ceremony?"

"All I want is my marriage lines. I'm coming straight back home; you can do as you like."

"If I like can I go through a similar ceremony with Miss Jones or Miss Brown?"

"If I thought you were going to be up to any game of that sort I'd-I'd-"

"Yes-you'd what?"

"I'd go and talk to your Mr. Austin to begin with. Don't you get any ideas of that kind in your head; don't you try it on."

"I've no intention of, as you again put it, 'trying it on,' not I. I only wondered. Then, at least, you won't insist on the position being made instantly public?"

"I don't care if it's made public or not. All I want is my marriage lines-when the time comes."

"And you quite understand that, whatever the relations may be, from the legal point of view, in which we stand to each other, you'll get no money out of me, for the sufficient reason that I shall have none to give you."

"I don't want your money. I don't want anything from you except that one thing; and-and-mind you do turn up!"

"I've been thinking things over in the silent watches of the night, and I've quite decided that I will turn up."

"Mind you do!"

"I will, I will; be assured I will. Now I believe I'm ready. I was thinking of troubling you to tell Mr. Austin that I'll be with him in a second, but I'll save you that trouble."

"Mind-"

Standing by the door she was beginning a sentence. He cut her short.

"All right, my dear; I'll mind. Would you mind getting out of the way?"

She moved aside to let him pass. He went down the stairs to his sitting-room below, quickly, lightly, humming a tune as he went, as if he had not a care in the world; and with a face which was all sunshine he entered his visitor's presence.

"My dear Rodney, this is an unconventional hour at which to pay a call, but I didn't think that in my case you'd mind about conventions, and I thought that, as I didn't get a chance of speaking to you last night, I'd have a few words with you before you started for the City. I suspect that I needn't tell you that I was glad to hear the news from Stella."

The speaker was a short, sturdily-built, fresh-coloured man, probably somewhere in the fifties, whose neatly trimmed beard was a shade whiter than his hair. A pair of bright eyes looked out from behind gold-rimmed spectacles; about his whole appearance there was a suggestion of health, vigour, and clean living. He took both the young man's hands in his, looking up at him as at one whom he both esteemed and liked.

"You're on the tall side. Stella always did like six-footers. I shouldn't wonder if that's the main reason why she's contracted a fondness for you."

Rodney laughed.

"It's very good of you, sir, to look me up in this unceremonious way. You must join me at breakfast."

"On this occasion I've been an earlier bird than you-I've breakfasted-but I will join you in a cup of coffee."

Rodney rang the bell. Miss Joyce entered with the breakfast on a tray. As she was placing the various articles on the table the two men scarcely spoke. The young man was examining the outsides of three or four letters which the morning post had brought; the elder, who had taken up his position before the fireplace, was for the most part observing Miss Joyce. When she had gone he said:

"That's not a bad-looking young woman. Who is she?"

"She's the landlady's daughter."

"Don't they keep a servant?"

"I fancy they do at intervals, someone who does the rougher work; but I'm out all day, and I never see her. So far as I'm concerned, either the mother or the daughter does the waiting."

"Are you the only lodger?"

"Oh, no; there's another man upstairs, who's by way of being a booking clerk or something. I rather fancy he has an eye in her direction."

"Is that so? Then perhaps that's what worries her. I never saw a young girl with a whiter face, or one with such an odd look in her eyes. It quite troubled me."

"How are you, sir? Though I don't think I need ask."

"No, you needn't. As always, I'm in the enjoyment of vulgar health; nothing ever seems to ail me, though in saying so perhaps I ought to touch wood. When I heard from Stella yesterday morning I made up my mind that I would come up to town at once and say what I had to say by word of mouth, instead of putting it on paper. I arrived in the afternoon, hoping to see you in the evening; but I didn't. I can tell you that Stella was very badly disappointed. I think she was unreasonable; but girls are! You'll have to make your peace to-day. I daresay you won't find it very difficult. This is very bad news about your uncle. I see the inquest is in the morning's paper."

"Is it, sir? As yet I haven't seen a paper."

"From what I can gather he was suffering from some form of malignant disease, and, it seems, in a fit of despair, took his own life. Poor fellow! It's easy to judge such cases, but I often feel that God, who is love, understands and pardons. I hope I'm saying nothing that I ought not to say. Mrs. Austin will have it that I oughtn't to talk like that, but that's how I do feel. Will his death make any difference to you?"

"Do you mean has he left me anything? No, sir; not a penny."

"What becomes of the business?"

"According to the will it's to be carried on by the managing man for the benefit of those mentioned in the will."

"Of whom you're not one?"

"No, sir, I am not."

"Then that makes what I have to say all the easier. I am glad to hear that you're going to be Stella's husband; Mrs. Austin is glad to hear it; I'm sure Tom will be glad to hear it-in fact, we're all of us glad to hear it."

"It's very kind of you to say so, sir, considering what an ineligible son-in-law I am. Here is a letter from Tom this morning. Shall I open it and see what he says?"

"You needn't. I've no doubt it conveys his congratulations in his own vernacular. I know Tom and his letters. There are some things about the governance of this world which I don't understand, which shows I am not omniscient. Experience teaches me that when a man has a son and a good business the son will have none of it, and can with difficulty be brought to believe that the business offers a good opening for him; whereas if a man has a son and no business, the son is apt to look upon it almost as a grievance that his father has no business in which to give him an opening. Instances of the kind are so common that I've nearly come to look upon them as illustrations of a general rule. Now, here am I, and there is Tom, and there's the business, producing, even in these competitive days, quite a comfortable number of thousands a year. Tom's a born optimist. The only time Eve seen him at all pessimistic is when I've suggested that those thousands might as well find their way into his pockets; then he's pessimism gone mad. He'd sooner raise sheep in Australia, or ranch in Manitoba, or do some other ridiculous thing. In fact, he once told me-in such matters he's frankness itself-that he'd rather sweep a crossing than be what he called imprisoned for life in the warehouse at Leicester. I'll do him this justice-that I believe his instincts are right, because I've never seen anything about him to lead me to suppose that in him are the makings of a business man. That's a pretty quandary for a man to be in who has a good business and an only son. Now, Rodney, I've always liked you. It's true that I've sometimes felt that a decent-looking young fellow occasionally finds it difficult to steer clear of quicksands which are represented by nice-looking persons of the opposite sex; but I've never had any tangible or serious charge to bring against you, and I've no doubt that when you're married there'll be only one woman in the world to you, and she will be your wife."

As the speaker paused, apparently with the intention of giving the other an opening, Rodney said with a smile:

"I'm at least glad, sir, that you've no tangible or serious charge to bring against me."

"Well, no, I haven't. At the same time-however, we'll let bygones be bygones. I daresay I'd an eye for more than one pretty girl before I'd a Mrs. Austin. I do know you're clever, with great charm of manner. I sometimes wonder if your manners are not almost too charming; but then, I come of a stocky school-no one's ever accused an Austin of having a charming manner, and I quite realise that, as things are, in business personal charm's a valuable asset; and I've been frequently struck by the fact that you're the possessor of a singularly quick perception. I think you have what is in reality an instinct, but what is called on the Stock Exchange a 'nose.' Again, a thing which in a business man is well worth having."

"You seem to have been observing me with unexpectedly flattering attention, sir."

"Oh, I've had an eye on you for quite a while. I want you, when you are Stella's husband, to come into my business. If you turn out as I hope and expect, I'll make you a partner. I've been imprisoned in the warehouse all my life, so, as I would like to see more of the world, soon as you're ready to take my place I should like you to take it. How would that meet your views?"

"Nothing could please me better, sir. I don't know where I shall find words with which to thank you even for the suggestion."

class="normal""I want no thanks; I want deeds. I'm hopeful that the arrangement will turn out to our mutual advantage. Now, Rodney, tell me candidly do you love my girl?"

"Let me put question for question. Do you think I'm the kind of man who would ask her to be my wife if I didn't?"

"Then why didn't you ask her before?"

"Mr. Austin, you're not quite fair to me."

"How am I unfair?"

"I've loved Stella ever-ever since we were boy and girl together. I've tried to break myself of loving her, but I haven't succeeded. I've never been able to dream of anyone but her as wife. You were a rich man; I was not only penniless, but without prospects. Over and over again I've been on the point of telling her what I felt, but I've checked myself. It hasn't been easy, but I've done it. I meant to wait till I'd some shadow of a right to ask her to be my wife, but last Saturday, when I saw her dear face, I-I couldn't hold myself in any longer, and that's the truth."

"I'm glad you couldn't. While I'm quite aware that your sentiments do you honour, all the same I rather wish that you'd shown a little more of the perception with which I've credited you. Rodney, is there any reason why the marriage should be postponed?"

"Mr. Austin, I haven't at the moment five pounds in the world to call my own. That's the only reason, so far as I'm concerned; but some fathers would think it a quite sufficient one."

Mr. Austin's eyes twinkled behind his glasses as he settled his spectacles on his nose.

"I suppose they would, if you look at it in that way. You don't paint your position too attractively."

"It couldn't be worse than it is."

"You're not in debt?"

"Oh, I'm not in debt; I don't know who'd give me credit if I wanted it. I've just enough to live on, as it were, from hand to mouth; but, with all the goodwill in the world and all the management, I don't see how it's going to be enough for two."

"I see. You put the position with some clearness. As you say, some fathers would think it a sufficient reason for postponement, but I'm not one of them. As you perhaps know, Stella has some means of her own."

"Isn't that one of the reasons why I-I kept quiet for so long?"

"And on her marriage I shall settle a further sum on her, besides making other arrangements. For instance, I shall, as I have said, be glad to receive you in my business, giving you at the commencement a salary which will enable you to contribute towards some of the expenses of a wife, with the prospect of a partnership in the early future. Now, do you see any reason why there should be any postponement so far as you're concerned?"

"I shall be only too delighted to marry Stella next week."

"Next week is a little early perhaps; but what do you say to next month?"

"If I'm Stella's husband next month I shall be the happiest man in the world."

He looked and sounded as if he meant it.

"You understand that in matters of this sort it is the lady who has the final word, but you have my authority to tell Stella that if she can see her way to stand with you at the altar in a month or earlier, she will make her mother and father happy, to say nothing of you. Now suppose you come and spend the day with us?"

"My dear sir! I must go to the City."

"Meaning to your late uncle's office? Why? Can't you scribble a note as soon as you've finished breakfast, and make an end of that?"

"It's impossible; I must go to-day."

"Very well. Go to-day, and say you're not coming to-morrow, or ever again. Say good-bye."

"I'm afraid that that wouldn't be playing the game. I ought to go, at any rate, till the end of the week."

"Very well. Perhaps you're right in not wishing to leave them in the lurch, if the departure of such a junior clerk as I understand you are would be leaving them in the lurch. Then on Saturday you'll come down with me to Leicester, and on Monday I'll introduce you to the warehouse. It will be just as well that you should have a look round before you're actually installed."

Here was Mr. Austin mapping out everything for him, as he had foreseen long ago would be the case if he ever committed himself to Stella; treating him as a puppet who would be content to dance when he pulled the strings. He had no doubt that Mrs. Austin would be ready to play the same motherly part in the management of his domestic affairs. He smiled as he thought of it. His would-be father-in-law went on:

"I'm going to write to Mrs. Austin and wire to Tom; I want to arrange a little dinner for to-morrow in honour of a certain auspicious event. Stella tells me she wants you all to herself to-night, and I'm not to interfere. I don't know what she wants you for, I'm sure, but I've promised not to interfere. She'll pull a face when she sees you've not returned with me, so you come early; after disappointing her twice-on Sunday and last night-she'll think that you can't come too early."

"I'll leave the office as early as I can-trust me for that! – rush back here, dress, and come right on."

"Dress! You needn't dress! They're homely folk at Kensington, and Stella will excuse you; she won't want you to waste, in dressing, valuable time which might be spent with her. You come straight on from the office in your toil-stained garments. She'll want to know what time. Shall I say five? I dare say, at a pinch, you can manage to be in Kensington by five."

Rodney considered. If he did go straight on from the office he would at least escape the risk of another heated discussion with Miss Joyce-that would be something.

"Very well, sir; if Stella will forgive me coming as I am, as you say, all toil-stained, I'll try my best to be with her as near as possible to five."

CHAPTER XVII
THE ACTING HEAD OF THE FIRM

Mr. Austin and Rodney left the house together, and so disappointed Miss Joyce, who was waiting to have one or two last words with Mr. Elmore. Having parted from Mr. Austin, Rodney paid a few calls on his way to St. Paul's Churchyard.

To begin with, he went into a jeweller's shop, and bought a ring set with pearls and diamonds-a simple, inexpensive trifle, which cost six pounds. It was designed for Stella's finger, and was to be her engagement ring.

"It won't do," he said to himself, "for it to cost too much, for one of her inquiring family will want to know where I got the money from. She'll value it none the less because 'I can no more, though poor the offering be.'"

Then he looked in at the offices of the White Star Steamship Company, and paid a deposit on a berth which he booked on a steamer which was to sail from Liverpool to New York on the following Thursday, booking it in the name of John Griffiths; then into the offices of the Royal Mail Steam Packet Company, where he booked a berth for the following Friday, from Southampton to Buenos Ayres, in the name of Charles Dickinson; then to the Cunard offices, where he booked for Saturday to New York, in the name of Adolphus Ridgway. Afterwards he visited the Bishop's Registry, in Doctors' Commons, and there, having made certain affidavits, received, in exchange for two sovereigns, a strip of paper which authorised him to marry Gladys Patterson, spinster, at any church in the London diocese. Thus prepared, as one might suppose, for more than one emergency, he paid still another call before proceeding to St. Paul's Churchyard-on Clarence Parmiter, solicitor. From him he wanted to know what forms it would be necessary to go through to enable Miss Patterson to draw on her late father's banking account. Mr. Parmiter explained that to do this it would be necessary, first of all, to prove Mr. Patterson's will-and it was not usual to do that, at any rate, till after the testator was buried. When, Mr. Parmiter asked, was the funeral to take place. In spite of himself, his visitor smiled; so fast had events come crowding on him that the fact that the dead man would have to be put into his grave had entirely escaped his notice-so far as he was aware, no arrangements for the funeral had been made of any sort or kind. Mr. Parmiter looked as if he felt that the smile with which this announcement was made was a little out of place. He said that probably Rodney would find that the matter had been arranged by one of the executors, or by Miss Patterson herself. If cash was wanted in the interim; if Miss Patterson and Mr. Andrews, as executor, would attend with him at a bank with which Mr. Patterson had an account, he did not doubt that arrangements might be made which would provide the lady with such advances as she required; and, of course, if she chose, she might instruct the bank to honour any cheques which he-Rodney Elmore-might draw, acting on her behalf.

Mr. Elmore left his friend's chambers with a feeling strong upon him that the business of getting his uncle's money out of the bank was not going to be as simple as he had hoped it would be. Clarence Parmiter even told him that the bank would not now honour any cheque which Graham Patterson might have drawn while still alive. This he did feel was unreasonable; it rendered even forgery futile. If he could wait he did not doubt that matters would be perfectly all right; but-could he wait? If only certain difficulties could be smoothed away, and he was given time, he did not doubt that he would be able to load himself with money; but could they be smoothed away, even for a week? Danger threatened from so many quarters; he really had been such an utter fool. If he had only realised what a fool, he would have taken precious good care to walk more warily; he would have been a wiser and a better man. But wisdom after the event was easy; what he needed was to be ready at a moment's notice for whatever came. He had planned escape in three different directions on three following days-if he could only get away with enough money to count! There was that nest-egg which he had found in his uncle's drawer, but what was that to a man in his plight? What he wanted was ten, or even, say, five thousand pounds. With five thousand pounds he might do very well on the other side of the world.

As, strolling leisurely along, he considered the matter in all its bearings calmly, it appeared to him that nothing worth calling money could be got at least until the morrow. In the morning he would meet his cousin at the bank, with Parmiter and Andrews; the arrangements would be made of which Parmiter had spoken; then, immediately after, he would be free to lay hands on as much ready cash as the arrangements permitted. He had no doubt that everything would be all right until to-morrow-he would so manage that it should be; all the same, he would have liked to have had a good supply of coin at his command, in case. However, it was no use grizzling at what might not be. He smiled as he arrived at this conclusion; he was still smiling when he reached the office. He marched, as a matter of course, to the room which had been his uncle's own particular sanctum, and this time no one even as much as hinted nay. Indeed, he was presently followed by Andrews, who informed him, with a countenance of decent solemnity, that he had made arrangements, which he hoped would meet with his and Miss Patterson's approval, for the interment of Mr. Patterson's remains in the family vault at Kensal Green, the interment to take place upon the morrow-Wednesday. Tickled by certain thoughts of his own, Rodney smiled as he listened; but this time, as his face was bent over the table, it is possible that the smile went unnoticed. He expressed himself as greatly obliged by what Andrews had done, and was certain that his feelings would be shared by Miss Patterson. Indeed, he was convinced that Miss Patterson would be willing to leave everything in his charge, since she would feel assured that everything he did would be right and proper and for the best. Mr. Andrews put his hand up to his mouth and coughed-the cough of one who was sensible that he deserved the compliment which was paid him.

He wanted to know if Mr. Elmore did not think it would be well to close the office for the whole of to-morrow, so as to give the staff an opportunity of at least attending at the graveside. They had all been remembered in the will, and would like to show the last tokens of respect for their dead master. Rodney, to whom the notion of marking such an occasion as a sort of holiday was novel, informed Andrews that the idea was excellent, and that he was at liberty to act in the matter as he thought was right. Andrews then wanted to know if Miss Patterson would be present, or if he-Rodney Elmore-would represent her as chief mourner. The suggestion moved Rodney in a way he would not have cared to admit. He had had no intention of attending his uncle's funeral at all-and as chief mourner! He to represent his cousin in such a capacity! That would be indeed to mock the dead. He was conscious of a feeling which surprised himself; he had not supposed he was so sensitive.

"I think," he told Andrews, "we must leave these points till later. I will consult with Miss Patterson and-observe her wishes. There is another matter," he went on. "Access to Mr. Patterson's banking account is not so easy as I imagined. My acquaintance with the procedure in these cases is nil; I don't know what yours amounts to."

"I know no more than you; this is the first time I find myself in such a position. Two payments of some importance are to be made this week; I was wondering how they would be met. Of course, if representations are made, time will be given."

"But, all the same, you would rather the payments were made? Exactly my feelings, Andrews; I want everything to be done in due order. I am going to arrange for Miss Patterson to meet you and Mr. Parmiter at the bank to-morrow morning, when I am advised that it will be possible to make arrangements which will enable us to meet all liabilities as they fall due. By the way, I believe that the trading account pass-book is in your charge; you might let me look at it."

Rodney examined the book when it was brought to him with great attention. He was already posted in certain figures which had to deal with his uncle's private account. Customers were brought in to him; some who had called in the ordinary course of business, others who had come to offer condolences, and so on. Their being brought straight to him showed a frank acceptance on Andrews' part of the fact that he was to be acting head of the firm; none the less, therefore, he was careful that Andrews was present at each of the interviews, referring certain matters to him with a little air of deference which won, as it was intended to win, the managing man's heart. The customers were favourably impressed, agreeing, as they went out, that Graham Patterson's mantle had descended on to capable shoulders.

"I shouldn't wonder," declared Mr. Brailson North as he shook hands with Mr. Andrews at the outer door, "if he turns out to be every bit as good a man as his uncle."

This, coming from a member of one of the largest firms in the City, was praise indeed. The managing man's eyes glistened. Anything which suggested a compliment to the business, so wrapped up in it was his whole existence, was a compliment to him. Since yesterday his ideas on the subject of Mr. Elmore had changed.

"Mr. North," he addressed the visitor in a confidential whisper, "Mr. Patterson was a good man, an excellent man of business in his way, sound and discreet; but between you, me, and this doorpost, I shouldn't wonder if the young one was better, with all his uncle's soundness and discretion, together with something that his uncle hadn't got. He's surprised me! You mark my words, I shouldn't be surprised if the house of Graham Patterson-there's going to be no alteration in the title-takes its place among the greatest City houses-mind you, in the front rank."

Mr. North laughed.

"There's no reason why your prophecy shouldn't come true. This is the day of the young man. Your young man has evidently got a head on his shoulders; he's a good foundation to build on. If he has grit, steadiness, caution, and knows just what sort of structure he would raise on it, there's no reason that I know of why he shouldn't build anything he likes. I agree with you in thinking that it is possible that the house of Graham Patterson is destined to be, in all respects, one of the finest in the City of London."

While these things were being said in his praise Rodney Elmore was writing to Miss Patterson. He enclosed for her inspection the marriage licence he had bought, asked in what church she would like the ceremony to take place on Monday, and added that he hoped to be able to make all final detailed arrangements with her to-morrow after the funeral. He told her of the difficulty which had arisen about getting money, asked her to meet him at the bank in the morning at 11.30; hoped that afterwards they might lunch together, pointing out that he never had lunched with her yet. Since after to-morrow he looked forward to being able to spend most of his time with her till Monday, and then for ever and a day-and that wouldn't seem a day too long! – he said that he felt that it would be better to devote the evening to doing certain little things of his own, which, sooner or later, would have to be done. By doing them he would clear the decks for action, so that, when the time for action came, he would be able to devote the whole of his time and, indeed, the whole of his life to her. All of which meant that he would not be able to tell her, except on paper, that he loved her till they met at the bank to-morrow morning.

Before actually slipping it into the envelope, together with this edifying epistle, he read the marriage licence carefully through. The perusal started him on what, for him, was an unwonted train of thought. Already, while still in the first flush of youth, he had spoilt his life, brought it to final wreck and ruin. What an extremely silly thing to have done! It was characteristic of this young gentleman that he never could bring himself to look at anything through serious eyes-even death. Whatever his first impulse might be, his second was to smile. Life, with all that appertained thereto, was such a funny thing. Here was he, with a career on either hand, each of which would lead at least to fortune; yet he might have neither. That did seem droll. Each was represented by a woman; personally he would have preferred that which was represented by Gladys, if only because he had no doubt that ere long he would be master not only of the business but of her. He was not so sure of Stella. In her he suspected an obstinate streak which he feared might be congenital. He had always felt that the Austins were, as the head of the house had put it, "stocky." He would find them more inclined to manage than to be managed. One thing he did know of himself: that he never could be managed. He might not put up an open fight-open fighting was not precisely in his line-but, if a sustained attempt were made to manage him, he would slip away-somehow, that was sure. Therefore, if only for the sake of peace and quietude, it would be better to avoid the risk. All the same, there was something about Stella which did appeal to him. With a sudden smile, slipping the licence and the letter into the envelope, he closed the flap.

Then, with pen in hand, as he was about to write the address, he started again to think. It was women-girls-who had brought him to his present pass, that was how he put it to himself. What Mabel Joyce said was perfectly true: he could not be alone with a girl without making love to her. It was a physical impossibility; he did not know why, but it was. The mischief was that his instinct had not warned him they were dangerous, hence his horrid situation. Indeed, it was hard that they should be dangerous; they were so pleasant to make love to. There were men who cared nothing for women, who went through life without making love-real love! – to a single one. How they managed he could not think. To him life under such conditions would not be worth living. He was a Sybarite. Life meant to him its good things; were there better things than women? He doubted it. He thought little of men; he had a very high opinion of women; he doubted if he had ever met one in whom there was not something to be desired.