"Of course, as you were so friendly with Wyngate, you had to be nice to
his wife," observed the solicitor.
"_What?_" I exclaimed, in astonishment.
"She is a very useful helpmate for him," continued the lawyer, smiling
compassionately at me. "They have hunted together for years and made
lots of money. Have you never heard of Violet Alexander's solid silver
bath? You may be quite sure the lace dress and the diamond star have
gone back to the shops where Wyngate made you buy them, and that he
and Violet pocketed a nice little commission on the transaction. The
shopkeepers are just as much in the gang as Wyngate and Jackson are.
Wyngate stayed with you until he saw you were getting restive; then he
ran up a few bills for you to pay and cleared out. You will not see him
again until Jackson's bill falls due."
"And then?" I asked.
"Then there will be ructions," said Mr. Benedict, cheerfully.
Here he took up a paper-knife, played with it carelessly, and looked as
if he expected me to find a way out of the tangle.
"Great Scot!" I exclaimed. "Shall I have to pay these villains eight
thousand pounds?"
"You certainly would if you had not come to us in time," was the reply.
"Then I am in time?" I asked, much relieved.
"Yes," said Mr. Benedict; "we can save your money, if you hand it over
to someone else."
"What on earth do you mean?"
"Simply this. You must execute a deed placing your property, from the
moment you become entitled to it, in the hands of trustees, who will
pay you, let us say, three or four hundred a year out of the income.
You will be unable to touch the capital. When Mr. Jackson presents his
little bill, you refer him to your trustees, who will repay him his
five thousand pounds with strict legal interest. Come back next week,
and we will have the papers ready for you to sign. In the meantime I
recommend you to change your quarters or leave London altogether."
I left Mr. Benedict with a new respect for the legal profession.
After having been so thoroughly fooled and exploited, it was pleasant
to think that I should have the laugh on my side in the long run. I
was not at all inclined to keep out of the way, however. To miss the
_dénouement_ was not to be thought of; but I decided to retire to less
expensive rooms, settle my outstanding debts, dispense with Hicks ("I
suppose he makes commissions out of me, like the rest of them," I said
to myself, savagely), and await the crisis.
The rest of the summer and the early part of the autumn I spent very
agreeably in the country, returning to London a few days before my
twenty-first birthday, which fell on November 15th. I took care to
write Jackson a polite letter, informing him of my change of address,
and received an equally polite acknowledgment, to my great delight. In
due course came another letter, reminding me that it would give Mr.
Jackson pleasure to receive the sum of eight thousand pounds at my
earliest convenience. This letter I handed over to Mr. Benedict, who,
in the best legal language, replied that he and his father, as my sole
trustees, repudiated the transactions I had entered into, but would
nevertheless repay the five thousand pounds, with six months' interest
at four per cent.
I would have given a good deal to see the faces of Jackson and Co. when
they received this missive. By what I could gather from my lawyers, the
money-lender was very indignant at first, but when he found he could
make no impression on the Benedicts he concluded to treat the matter as
one of those little disappointments to which business men are liable;
and, finally, he accepted the offer and the money. I had expected him
to show more fight, and was rather disappointed at first; but I had not
long to wait for excitement.
* * * * *
Late one afternoon I was on my way home to dress for dinner, after
spending an hour or two at one of my usual resorts near the Strand.
Having plenty of time, I turned into the Green Park and was sauntering
along, enjoying a cigarette, when a hand was laid on my shoulder from
behind, and a well-known voice exclaimed: "A word with you, my friend!"
It was Captain Wyngate!