MR. TWISSEL’S MISADVENTURES.—THE CONSEQUENCES OF BEING FOUND IN THE
BANK WITHOUT GIVING A SATISFACTORY ACCOUNT OF YOUR BUSINESS THERE.—AN
UNPLEASANT DILEMMA.
The peculiar position of Mrs. Meredith and her daughter Margaret, in
some measure, and to a great degree, tied their hands, and caused a
corresponding desire to know more than was told them; at the same
time, they were fearful of giving any offence to their new and wealthy
lodger. They were both avaricious and designing. To make a good
settlement was the grand object of their lives, and to that object
they would sacrifice themselves—at least, sacrifice Margaret, who,
by-the-bye, would consider it no sacrifice at all, but a great stroke
of good luck.
However, they could do nothing of themselves; they saw there was a
great, and glorious chance for the future; they felt they had entangled
the colonel; they felt he had become a victim to their snares, and they
were unwilling that they should run any risk of a failure of their
plans.
“If we offend him, he may consider us avaricious and designing,” they
argued; “and that might prove too strong an antidote to even an old
man’s love, and the prize might be snatched out of our hands, and we
might not only lose a rich husband, but a good lodger also.”
These considerations induced them to act more warily and cautious than
the attorney, Mr. Twissel, who was anxious at once to seize the bull
by the horns, and come to an explanation, and thus save himself much
labour and time, for the sooner there was an explanation the better;
and he did not apprehend the result that they did; he believed it would
only appear proper caution on the part of a mother.
They had different opinions; and, between the two, there was an
indecisive policy adopted, which occasioned delay and uncertainty.
There was no doubt but the colonel meant matrimony; his infirmities
were of no consequence. It was not the man, but the money, that was
wanted, and which was sought with perseverance and constancy. They
appeared negligent of money matters before the colonel; and, when he
paid them, which he did regularly, he always appeared to have money
about him, which, of course, increased their respect, and gave them
increased confidence in him.
“It is all very well, ma,” said Margaret, “but Mr. Twissel must not
offend Colonel Deverill; he is evidently a man much above him; his
actions and manner are such, that at once stamp him immeasurably his
superior; now, as regards this property, there can be no doubt but he
must have enough.”
“I think so, too, my dear; but it would be a dreadful thing if it
should turn out otherwise in the end; it would really be very dreadful;
I should never survive it.”
“Nor I mother.”
“What is to be done?—I declare I am at my wits’ end.”
“There is no fear, ma; do you not remember that Mr. Twissel himself has
found out that he is Colonel Deverill, and that he has retired from the
army of the Company?”
“Indeed, my dear, that is correct; I had forgotten that—quite forgotten
it; but it may so happen he has no money at all; he may have spent it.”
“He does not appear to be extravagant,” said Margaret; “he has retired
upon his half-pay, which you know must be a very good living, and I am
sure of a widow’s pension, if nothing more; and, besides, I am sure,
from what he has said, there must be money.”
“Well, I think so, too, my dear,” said Mrs. Meredith; “and I think it
will be better that things should go on as the colonel desires; to lose
him would be horribly aggravating.”
“So it will, ma, because I am sure he will do justice. It is not like
as if we had money, too, and were as willing to have our affairs
investigated, as we are to investigate his.”
“That is very true, my dear, very true; and Mr. Twissel does not seem
to know that; that I will tell him when I see him; by the way, I must
send to him, to tell him the colonel is going out in about an hour. If
he can find out anything, without compromising us in the affair, why,
he may do so, and welcome; for, you must acknowledge, it will be all
the more satisfactory.”
“Yes, yes, I admit that; but I would not wilfully lose a good
opportunity.”
“I must now send off to him. Mary must go, and that, too, as quickly as
she can; for I shall want her back again very soon, so she must run.”
“Then, the sooner she goes the better,” said Margaret.
Mary was sent to Mr. Twissel, who happened to be at home at the time,
and judging that Mary had been a good time on the road, that there
would be no time to go to Mrs. Meredith’s house, and then follow the
coach, so he determined to go to the bank at once, so that he would be
there in time to see the colonel descend and enter the bank, into which
he would follow him.
He sent word back to Mrs. Meredith that he would go on, and see her as
soon after as he could; and then he made the best of his way towards
the bank, where he arrived in good time—indeed, half-an-hour before the
colonel, who did not set out so soon as he intended.
“Now,” thought Twissel, “if he were to turn out all right, why, I shall
be in good fortune; but if bad, it would be laid upon my shoulders.
They shall not say that I have not given them attention enough for
their money; and if I don’t do something, they will say I haven’t
earned my money; and though I can enforce payment of the bond, yet it
may hurt my future prospects with regard to my future connection with
the family, which I hope to make a profitable one in the long run.”
Filled with these thoughts, he determined to watch with due caution for
the arrival of the colonel, on the other side of the way.
It was some time before the coach drove up, which it did after a
considerable lapse of time, and then Mr. Twissel crossed over, and
placed himself in a position by the lamp-post where he could obtain a
good view of any one passing in and out of the coach.
“’Tis he,” he muttered, as he saw the colonel step out of the carriage,
and walk into the bank very leisurely and quietly, leaning upon his
stick, and walking lame. He watched him into the bank—he saw him go
some distance down the passage, and then he muttered,—
“Now, I will follow him up closely.”
And, after a moment’s pause to permit some one to pass him, he then
darted down the passage into a kind of yard; but no, he could not see
him; he was not there; and yet he was so lame, he could not have got
out of sight so soon as all that.
“He’s gone to the dividend-office,” he muttered; “I shall find him
there,” and away he posted to that department; but he could not find
him, he was—he was not there. Then what could have become of him? That
was a point he could not solve.
“Well, this is very odd,” he muttered; “very odd.”
He paused to think over the matter; but that did not aid him. He was
in the dark, but thought it was no use in waiting in any one place, so
wandered about from office to office, until he came to the body of the
place, when he waited until some one came up to him, and touched him on
the shoulder. He turned round, and at once perceived it was an officer.
“What do you want with me?” inquired Twissel.
“What is your business here?” returned the officer, by way of reply.
“I am here upon my own business. I am at a loss to understand what you
mean by asking me such a question in a public place. What can you mean
by it? I was never asked such a question before, and cannot see why you
should do so now.”
“Excuse me, sir, I have ample warrant for what I am doing.”
“Have you? Then state it.”
“Easily. I have followed you about this last half-hour, and you have
been wandering about the place for some time, and looking about you in
a manner that has excited a good deal of suspicion, to say the least of
it; and I must have some satisfactory explanation.”
“You can have that,” replied Mr. Twissel, very much annoyed; “you can
have any explanation you can require. I am very sure I came here on my
own affairs; what other explanation can you require?”
“Your affairs may be ours also, and the explanation you have given will
be just enough to justify my taking you into custody—so if you have no
more to say, I must request the favour of your company; that’s my card
of invitation; do you hear, sir?”
“Yes, I do; I am an attorney-at-law, and you may depend upon it I will
not be content without punishing you for this indignity—I came in here
because I saw a friend call, to whom I wanted to speak.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” said Twissel; “I have missed him.”
“Very likely, and your friend will miss you for a short time; for you
must come with me;—you have been found here without being able to give
any account of yourself.”
“I tell you I came in here to see Colonel Deverill.”
“Well, what do we know of Colonel Deverill? We don’t know anything
about him, nor you either; you must come with me. We are obligated to
be very particular when we see strangers walking about with no object
whatever in view—it is very suspicious.”
“But I tell you I am a respectable attorney—a professional man. I had
no bad object in view.”
“That may be as you say; but you must come with me.”
Seeing there no help for it, Mr. Twissel resigned himself into the
officer’s hands, and followed him to the station-house, where he was
examined by the inspector, at the place where he was taken.
“Well, sir,” said the inspector, “this may be all very true, but we
must have some proof of what you assert; then we can let you go.”
“I’ll have a complaint against you.”
“You may; but you must prove not only that what you say is true, but
that there was no cause for suspicion, and that you were not loitering
about the bank, as the officer asserts you were.”
The attorney thought that it would be quite unnecessary to get into the
public prints, because it would not do for him to make use of Colonel
Deverill’s name; and that he had already done. What was he to do? he
had got into a very disagreeable scrape, out of which he must now get
in the best manner possible, and which he could not see his way clear
to do.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Give us some proof that you are the person whom you represent yourself
to be,” he replied, “and then we can let you go at once.”
“Then I will give you my card,” said Twissel, producing his card-case.
“That is no proof,” said the constable. “A man might have robbed you
of your card-case, and you would have some one passing himself off for
yourself.”
“What shall I do, then?” inquired Twissel.
“Send for some one who knows you, or send for your own clerk—that will
do.”
“That I can do at once,” replied Twissel; and he at once wrote a note
to his clerk, and gave it unsealed into the hands of the constable, and
asked if there was any one who would go with it.
“You can send a messenger; there are many who will do that if you pay
them for it,” replied the constable; and in another minute, for the sum
of half-a-crown, a messenger agreed to take the letter to his office,
and deliver it to his clerk, and wait for him.
This was done, and until that time he was locked up in a cell, where he
had a light certainly, but in which he had no other comfort at all; but
in about an hour and a half there was the prospect of a relief; for he
saw his clerk come into the station-house, and with him the messenger,
who came to the constable and said that was Mr. Twissel’s clerk.
“Do you know Mr. Twissel?” inquired the constable.
“Yes, I do; he is my employer.”
“Then point him out,” said the constable.
At that moment, Mr. Twissel was brought in, and he at once pointed him
out to the satisfaction of the constable, who, with an admonition,
consented to the enlargement of Mr. Twissel, and in answer to his
threat of future investigation, said to him,—
“You see, sir, the bank is such a place, that we are compelled to keep
all persons out who have no business there, and it must not be a place
where people meet who have no particular bank business to transact; do
not wait about, then, for the future, sir, else you may run the same
danger.”
Mr. Twissel left the station-house with a feeling very much akin to
anger, and he walked home with a very disagreeable feeling. He felt
that he had been baffled, and had been also much ill-used, and very
much affronted.
“Where could he have got to?” he murmured. “He must have turned in some
of the offices—confound him! I wish he had taken it into his head to
tumble. I am sure he ain’t no good; if he were, I should not have been
placed in such an unpleasant position.”
Suddenly he recollected that there was no necessity for his going home,
unless there had been anything happened since his departure; and upon
being informed that such was not the case, he determined to alter his
course, and proceed to Mrs. Meredith, and relate the misfortunes that
had befallen him.
“And if that don’t satisfy her I have her interest at heart, why,
nothing will.”
And he left his clerk, after giving him some directions, and then
turned off towards Bloomsbury-square, where he arrived just before tea
time.