IN WHICH MR. DINGWELL PUTS HIS HAND TO THE POKER.
AT eleven o'clock next morning, Mr. Dingwell was refreshed, and ready to
receive his expected visitors. He had just finished a pipe as he heard
their approaching steps upon the stairs, and Miss Sarah Rumble pushed
open the door and permitted Mr. Levi and his friend to enter and
announce themselves. Mr. Dingwell received them with a slight bow and a
rather sarcastic smile.
Mr. Levi entered first, with his lazy smile showing his glittering
fangs, and his fierce, cunning, prominent eyes swept the room, and
rested on Mr. Dingwell. Putting down his hat on the middle of the narrow
table, he stooped across, extending his lank arm and long hand toward
the white-headed old man with the broad forehead and lean brown face,
who happened to turn to the chimney-piece just then, to look for a
paper, and so did not shake hands.
"And Mr. Larkin?" said Mr. Dingwell, with the same smile, as he turned
about and saw that slim, bald, pink-eyed impersonation of Christianity
overtopping the dark and glossy representative of the Mosaic
dispensation.
"Sit down, pray--though--eh?--has my friend, Miss Rumble, left us chairs
enough?" said Mr. Dingwell, looking from corner to corner.
"Quite ample; thanks, many thanks," answered Mr. Larkin, who chose,
benignantly, to take this attention to himself. "Three chairs, yes, and
three of us; pray, Mr. Dingwell, don't take any trouble."
"Oh! thank you; but I was not thinking of taking any trouble, only I
should not like to be left without a chair. Miss Sarah Rumble, I dare
say she's very virtuous, but she's not brilliant," he continued as he
approached. "_There_, for instance, her pot-house habits! She leaves my
old hat on the centre of the table!" and with a sudden sweep of the
ebony stem of his long pipe, he knocked Mr. Levi's hat upon the floor,
and kicked it into the far corner of the room.
"Da-a-am it; that'sh my hat!" said Mr. Levi, looking after it.
"So much the better for _me_," said Mr. Dingwell, with an agreeable
smile and a nod.
"An error--quite a mistake," interposed Mr. Larkin, with officious
politeness. "Shall _I_ pick it up, Mr. Levi?"
"Leave it lay," said Mr. Levi, sulkily; "no use now. It's got its
allowance, I expect."
"Gentlemen, you'll not detain me longer than is necessary, if you
please, because I hate business, on _principle_, as a Jew does ham--I
beg pardon Mr. Levi, I forgot for a moment--the greatest respect for
your religion, but I do hate business as I hate an attorney--'Gad! there
is my foot in it again: Mr. Larkin, no reflection, I assure you, on your
excellent profession, which everyone respects. But life's made up of
hours: they're precious, and I don't want to spoil 'em."
"A great trust, sir, a great trust, Mr. Dingwell, is _time_. Ah, sir,
how little we make of it, with eternity yawning at our feet, and
retribution before us!"
"_Our_ and _us_; you don't narrow it to the legal profession, Mr.
Larkin?"
"I speak of time, generally, Mr. Dingwell, and of eternity and
retribution as applicable to all professions," said Mr. Larkin, sadly.
"I don't follow you, sir. Here's a paper, gentlemen, on which I have
noted exactly what I can prove."
"Can I have it, Mr. Dingwell?" said the attorney, whose dove-like eyes
for a moment contracted with a hungry, rat-like look.
"No, I think, _no_," said Mr. Dingwell, withdrawing it from the long,
red fingers extended to catch the paper; Mr. Levi's fingers, at a more
modest distance, were also extended, and also disappointed; "anything I
write myself I have a kind of feeling about it; I'd rather keep it to
myself, or put it in the fire, than trouble the most artless Jew or
religious attorney I know with the custody of it: so, if you just allow
me, I'll read it. It's only half a dozen lines, and I don't care if you
make a note of it, Mr. Larkin."
"Well," he resumed, after he had glanced through the paper, Mr. Larkin
sitting expectant _arrectis auribus_, and with a pen in his fingers,
"you may say that I, Mr. Dingwell, knew the late Honourable Arthur
Verney, otherwise Hakim Frank, otherwise Hakim Giaour, otherwise Mamhoud
Ali Ben-Nezir, for five years and two months, and upwards--three days, I
think--immediately preceding his death; for the latter four years very
intimately. That I frequently procured him small loans of money, and saw
him, one way or another, nearly every day of my life: that I was with
him nearly twice a day during his last illness: that I was present when
he expired, and was one of the three persons who saw him buried: and
that I could point out his grave, if it were thought desirable to send
out persons acquainted with his appearance, to disinter and identify the
body."
"No need of that, I think," said Mr. Larkin, looking up and twiddling
his eye-glass on his finger.
He glanced at Levi, who was listening intensely, and almost awfully,
and, reading no sign in his face, he added,--
"_However_, I see no harm in making the note."
So on went Mr. Dingwell, holding a pair of gold glasses over his nose.
"I can perfectly identify him as the Hon. Arthur Verney, having
transacted business for him respecting an annuity which was paid him by
his family; written letters for him when his hand was affected; and read
his letters for him when he was ill, which latter letters, together with
a voluminous correspondence found in his box, and now in my possession,
I can identify also as having been in _his_."
"I don't see any need, my dear Mr. Dingwell, of your mentioning your
having written any letters for him; it has, in fact, no bearing that I
can recognise upon the case. I should, in fact, apprehend complicating
the case. You might find it difficult to specify, and we to produce, the
particular letters referred to; so I should simply say you _read_ them
to him, at his desire, before he despatched them for England; that is,
of course, assuming that you did so."
"Very good, sir; knock it out, and put that in; and I can prove that
these letters, which can easily, I suppose, be identified by the writers
of them in England, were in his possession, and that several of them I
can recollect his having read to me on the day he received them. That's
pretty nearly what strikes me--eh?"
"Yes, sir--certainly, Mr. Dingwell--most important; but surely he had a
servant; had he not, my dear sir?--an attendant of some sort? they're to
be had there for next to nothing, I think," hesitated Mr. Larkin.
"Certainly--so there was--yes; but he started for Egypt in a boat full
of tiles, or onions, or something, a day or two after the Hakim was
buried, and I'm afraid they'll find it rather hard to find him. I think
he said Egypt, but I won't swear."
And Mr. Dingwell laughed, very much tickled, with intense sarcastic
enjoyment; so much so that Mr. Larkin, though I have seldom before or
since heard of his laughing, _did_ suddenly laugh a short, explosive
laugh, as he looked down on the table, and immediately looked very grave
and sad, and pinked up to the very summit of his narrow bald head; and
coughing a little, he said,--
"Thank you, Mr. Dingwell; this will suffice very nicely for an outline,
and I can consult with our adviser as to its particular sufficiency--is
not that your impression, Mr. Levi?"
"You lawyer chaps undusta-ans that line of business best; I know no more
about it than watch-making--only don't shleep over it, for it's costing
us a da-a-am lot of money," said Mr. Levi, rising with a long yawn and a
stretch, and emphasising it with a dismal oath; and shutting his great
glaring eyes and shaking his head, as if he were being victimised at a
pace which no capital could long stand.
"Certainly, Mr. Levi," said the attorney, "you quite take me with you
there. We are all contributing, except, perhaps, our valued friend, Mr.
Dingwell, our quota towards a very exhausting expense."
"Da-a-md exhausting," interposed Mr. Levi.
"Well, pray allow me my own superlative," said the attorney, with
religious grandeur. "I do say it is very exhausting; though we are all,
I hope, _cheerfully_ contributing----"
"Curse you! to be sure you are," said Mr. Dingwell, with an abrupt
profanity that startled Mr. Larkin. "Because you all expect to make
money by it; and I'm contributing my time, and trouble, and danger,
egad! for precisely the same reason. And now, before you go--just a
moment, if you please, as we are on the subject--who's Chancellor of the
Exchequer here?"
"Who advances the necessary funds?" interpreted Mr. Larkin, with his
politest smile.
"Yes," said the old man, with a sharp menacing nod. "Which of you two
comes down, as you say, with the dust? Who pays the piper for this dance
of yours, gentlemen?--the Christian or the Jew? I've a word for the
gentleman who holds the purse--or, as we Christians would say, who
carries the bag;" and he glanced from one to the other with a sniff, and
another rather vicious wag of his head.
"I believe, sir, you may address us both as _voluntary_ contributors
towards a fund for carrying on, for the _present_, this business of the
Honourable Kiffyn Fulke Verney, who will, of course, recoup us," said
Mr. Larkin, cautiously.
He used to say sometimes to his conducting man, with a smile, sly and
holy, up at the yellow letters of one of the tin deed-boxes on his
shelves at the Lodge, after an adroit conversation, "I think it will
puzzle him, rather, to make an _assumpsit_ out of _that_."
"Well, you talk of _allowing_ me--as you term it--four pounds a week.
I'll not take it," said Mr. Dingwell.
"My hye! That'sh liberal, shir, uncommon 'anshome, be Ga-a-ad!"
exclaimed Mr. Levi, in a blessed mistake as to the nature of Mr.
Dingwell's objection.
"I know, gentlemen, this business can't advance without me--to me it may
be worth something; but you'll make it worth a great deal more to
yourselves, and whatever else you may find me, you'll find me no fool;
and I'll not take one piastre less than five-and-twenty pounds a week."
"Five-and-twenty pounsh!" howled Mr. Levi; and Mr. Larkin's small pink
eyes opened wide at the prodigious idea.
"You gentlemen fancy you're to keep me here in this black-hole making
_your_ fortunes, and living on the wages of a clerk, egad! You shall do
no such thing, I promise you; you shall pay me what I say. I'll see the
town, sir, and I'll have a few guineas in my pocket, or I'll know the
reason why. I didn't come ALL the way here for nothing--d--n you both!"
"Pray, sir, a moment," pleaded Mr. Larkin.
"_Pray_, sir, as much as you like; but _pay_, also, if you please. Upon
my life, you _shall_! Fortune owes me something, and egad! I'll enjoy
myself while I can."
"Of course, sir; quite reasonable--so you should; but, my dear Mr.
Dingwell, five-and-twenty pounds!--we can hardly be expected, my dear
sir, to see our way."
"'Gad, sir! _I_ see _mine_, and I'll go it," laughed Mr. Dingwell, with
a most unpleasant glare in his eyes.
"On reflection, you will see, my dear Mr. Dingwell, the extreme
inexpediency of anything in the least resembling a _fraycas_" (Mr.
Larkin so pronounced his French) "in your particular case. I should
certainly, my dear sir, recommend a most cautious line."
"Cautious as the devil," seconded Mr. Levi.
"You think I'm afraid of my liabilities," croaked Mr. Dingwell, with a
sudden flush across his forehead, and a spasm of his brows over his wild
eyes, and then he laughed, and wagged his head.
"That's right--quite right," almost sighed Mr. Larkin--"do--do--_pray_
do--just _reflect_ for only a _moment_--and you'll _see_ it."
"To be sure, I _see_ it, and _you_ shall see it, too. Egad! I know
something, sir, at my years. I know how to deal with screws, and
bullies, and schemers, sir--and that is by _going straight at_ them--and
I'll tell you what, sir, if you don't pay me the money I name, I'll make
you regret it."
For a moment, Mr. Larkin, for one, did almost regret his share in this
uncomfortable and highly "speculative" business. If this Mr. Dingwell
chose to turn restive and extortionate, it would have been better it had
never entered into his ingenious head, and he could already see in the
Jew's eyes the sulky and ferocious expression that seemed to forebode
defeat.
"If you don't treat me, as I say, with common fairness, I'll go straight
to young Mr. Verney myself, and put you out of the baby-house
altogether."
"_What_ babby-houshe?" demanded Mr. Levi, glowering, and hanging the
corners of his great half-open mouth with a sullen ferocity.
"Your castle--in the air--your d--d plot, sir."
"If you mean you're going to turn stag," began the Jew.
"_There_--do--pray, Mr. Levi--you--you _mistake_," interposed Mr.
Larkin, imploringly, who had heard tales of this Mr. Dingwell's mad
temper.
"I say," continued Levi, "if you're going to split----"
"Split, sir!" cried Mr. Dingwell, with a malignant frown, and drawing
his mouth together into a puckered ring, as he looked askance at the
Jew. "What the devil do you mean by _split_, sir? 'Gad! sir, I'd split
your black head for you, you little Jew miscreant!"
Mr. Larkin saw with a qualm that the sinews of that evil face were
quivering with an insane fury, and that even under its sun-darkened skin
it had turned pale, while the old man's hand was instinctively extended
towards the poker, of which he was thinking, and which was uncomfortably
near.
"No, no, _no_--pray, gentlemen--I _entreat_--only _think_," urged Mr.
Larkin, seriously alarmed for the Queen's peace and his own precious
character, and for the personal safety of his capitalist and his
witness.
Mr. Larkin confronted the Jew, with his great hands upon Mr. Levi's
shoulders, so as to prevent his advance; but that slender Hebrew, who
was an accomplished sparrer, gave the godly attorney a jerk by the
elbows which quite twirled him about, to his amazement and chagrin.
"'Andsh off, old chap," said the Jew, grimly, to Mr. Larkin, who had not
endured such a liberty since he was at his cheap day-school, nearly
forty years ago.
But Mr. Larkin interposed again, much alarmed, for behind him he thought
he heard the clink of the fire-irons.
"He thinks he may say what he pleases," cried the old man's voice
furiously, with a kind of choking laugh.
"No, sir--no, Mr. Dingwell--I assure you--_do_, Mr. Levi--how _can_ you
mind him?" he added in an undertone, as he stood between.
"I _don't_ mind him, Mr. Larkin: only I won't let no one draw it that
sort. I won't stand a lick of a poker for no one; he shan't come that
over me"--and concurrently with this the shrill voice of Mr. Dingwell
was yelling--
"Because I'm--because I'm--I'm--every d--d little
whipper-snapper--because they think I'm down, the _wretches_, I'm to
submit to their insults!"
"I _don't_ want to hurt him, Mr. Larkin; if I did, I'd give'm his tea in
a mug this minute; but I don't, I say--only he shan't lift a poker to
_me_."
"No one, my dear sir, has touched a poker; no one, Mr. Levi, ever
dreamed of such a thing. Pray, my dear sir, my dear Mr. Dingwell, don't
misconceive; we use slang phrases, now and then, without the _least_
meaning or disrespect: it has become quite the ton_g_. I assure you--it
was only last week, at Nyworth Castle, where I had the honour to be
received, Lady Mary Wrangham used the phrase _yarn_, for a long story."
"D--n you, can't you answer my question?" said Mr. Dingwell, more in
his accustomed vein.
"Certainly, sir, we'll reply to it. Do, Mr. Levi, _do_ leave the room;
your presence at this moment only leads to excitement."
Levi, for a moment, pondered fiercely, and then nodded a sulky
acquiescence.
"I shall overtake you in the court, Mr. Levi, if you can wait two or
three minutes there."
The Jew nodded over his shoulder, and was gone.
"Mr. Dingwell, sir, I can't, I assure you. It's not in my power; it is
in the hands of quite other people, on whom, ultimately, of course,
these expenses will fall, to sanction the outlay by way of weekly
allowance, which you suggest. It is true I am a contributor, but not
exactly in cash; only in money's worth--advice, experience, and
technical knowledge. But I will apply in the proper quarter, without
delay. I wish, Mr. Dingwell, I _were_ the party; you and I would not, I
venture to think, be long in settling it between us."
"No, to be sure, you're all such liberal fellows--it's always some one
else that puts us under the screw," laughed Mr. Dingwell, discordantly,
with his face still flushed, and his hand trembling visibly, "you never
have the stock yourselves--not you,--there's always, Mr. Sheridan tells
us, you know, in that capital play of his, a d----d unconscionable
fellow in the background, and in Shakspeare's play, _Shylock_, you
remember, he hasn't the money himself, but Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of
his tribe, will furnish him. Hey! I suppose they gave the immortal
Shakspeare a squeeze in his day; he understood 'em. But Shylock and
Tubal are both dead and rotten long ago. It's a comfort you can't escape
death, with all your cunning, d--n you."
But Mr. Larkin spoke peaceably to Mr. Dingwell. The expense, up to a
certain time, would, of course, fall upon Mr. Kiffyn Verney; after that,
however, Mr. Larkin and the Jew firm would feel it. But be it how it
might, they could not afford to quarrel with Mr. Dingwell; and Mr.
Dingwell was a man of a flighty and furious temper.