The morning following the disastrous steeple-chase, Mr. Jasper Vermont
ordered his car, and then sat down to write to Adrien. He told him that
he regretted having to leave the Castle so suddenly, but urgent business
required his presence in London, and that he would return to Barminster
as soon as possible.
On the appearance of the motor, he took his departure, travelling direct
to Jermyn Court, where he stayed to lunch, waited on by the attentive
Norgate as though he had been Adrien himself. Then, having filled his
cigar-case with his friend's choicest Cabanas, he strolled through the
fashionable parts of the Park.
The loungers and idle men of fashion who usually frequented it at that
time of the day knew him well, and nodded with forced smiles of
friendship--it was clearly to their interest to be on good, if possible,
cordial terms with a man who always had the entree to the innermost
circles, and who had won the confidence of a popular favourite like
Adrien Leroy.
Those who had not been personally introduced to Jasper, had still heard
reports of his position, and looked after him with that half-envious air
which says so plainly:
"There goes the kind of prosperous, wealthy man I myself should like to
be."
Mr. Vermont strolled along, his face wreathed in a perpetual smirk of
recognition, his hat off half a dozen times a minute, acknowledging the
smiling glances accorded to him.
When he had nearly come to Hyde Park Gate, he was confronted by one of
the loungers--an old acquaintance of his--whose woe-begone countenance
seemed expressive of acute mental distress.
Jasper Vermont recognised him in spite of his altered
appearance--usually a very gay one--and stopped him.
"What, Beau!" he exclaimed with seemingly effusive warmth; "you here;
whatever have you been doing--committing murder? Or have you married in
haste, to repent of it at leisure?"
"Neither, my dear boy," answered the well-groomed young man--a captain
in the "Household" Guards--one of the fastest and most generally liked
fellows in town. "Neither, Vermont; but I have just come from the City."
"City of the Tombs!" drawled Jasper facetiously.
Captain Beaumont laughed, but rather mournfully.
"Yes," he said, "all my hopes are buried in that beastly place.' Really,
the County Council ought to put a notice over the west side of Temple
Bar monument instead of that heraldic beast: 'Abandon hope, all ye who
enter here,'"
Mr. Vermont laughed, in his usual quiet way.
"How's that? The City is good enough in its way. What have they been
doing to you; won't they lend you any more money?"
"Worse even than that," said the young spend-thrift; "they actually want
me to repay all that I owe them already, on short notice, with the usual
threats if I fail to comply within their time."
"Oh!" remarked Mr. Vermont simply; but his "oh" was full of meaning and
apparent sympathy for the misfortunes of his friend.
"Yes, that hard-hearted old skinflint, Harker--what a mean brute he is!
I should like to bury him, and would attend his funeral gladly to be
certain I had seen the last of him. He holds a pretty little tot-up in
the way of bills of mine; and I expected, naturally enough, when I call
on the firm, that they would renew them at the usual Shylock rates, and
I could try elsewhere for something to go on with."
"Yes," said Mr. Vermont, "of course, that's the way you have done for
years."
Captain Beaumont nodded.
"Yes, that's so; but Harker only shook that long head of his, and
refused me; and nothing I could say would change the old skinflint's
mind either. You know that cock-and-bull story he always tells, about
his not being the principal, but only the servant? Well, he says his
principal has instructed him to call in my bills, and it is impossible
for him to renew them; and that the usual steps will be taken if I am
not able to meet them."
Jasper laughed, with gentle sarcasm.
"Of course, that's always the moneylender's excuse. I'm afraid he will
sell you up, Beau."
Captain Beaumont whistled.
"My dear Vermont, it will be an awful shock for the guv'nor. He can only
give us younger sons a small allowance, and he certainly won't be able
to settle this matter; it would be altogether beyond him."
"What is the amount?" inquired Jasper. He was as well aware as was the
young captain himself, of Lord Dunford's financial difficulties.
"Well, not much," replied Captain Beaumont. "Only seven thousand; but
it's no good my going to the guv'nor for a penny piece, and how to clear
it up is more than I can tell. But why do you ask?" he added, though
with but faint eagerness. "Do you think you could find any one able to
help me out of this beastly hole?"
"Well, I might," said Jasper, eyeing his cigar meditatively, as if
seeking from its fumes some inspiration as to a method of aiding his
friend.
"I only know one way to prevent Harker taking extreme measures," went on
the troubled debtor; "that is, if I could get some one to back new
bills. Now if, say, Adrien Leroy were to back some bills for me, Harker
certainly would not refuse; but I am hardly in a position to ask Leroy."
"But I am," said Vermont, smiling with the consciousness of power; "and I
will do it for you, for old friendship's sake."
"You will!" exclaimed the captain gratefully. "Jasper, you're a brick! I
feel sure, somehow, he will do it for you. _I_ should stand no chance.
You are a good fellow to come to my rescue in this fashion."
"Ah," said Mr. Vermont, with a smile; "but can we be sure that Harker
will accept Leroy's name of the bills?"
"Why, of course, Harker or anybody--who wouldn't?" asked the Guardsman,
as the cloud dispelled from his face at hope coming so quickly from this
unexpected quarter. "Why, it's as good as the Bank of England. Harker
take it?---he'll snap at it. Only try him and see his greedy eyes
glisten. What could Harker get by selling me up?--absolutely nothing.
Besides, it would do him harm by letting others know how harshly he
served me. Oh, no, Harker will not sell me up if he can find such an
easy, safe way out of the difficulty."
"True," said Jasper pleasantly. "Well, I'll interview Leroy and see if I
can persuade him to assist you, as a friend of mine; I believe I can do
it for you. Going to Lady Merivale's to-night? Yes? Then we shall meet
again; till then, au revoir."
So, with a shake of his fat, smooth hand, the benevolent, unselfish Mr.
Vermont took his departure, still smiling serenely, on the business
which had brought him that day to London.
Nobody knew Jasper's private address. He was always to be found with
Adrien Leroy, and all letters were addressed to his club; or to Jermyn
Court; but of the locality of that place which Mr. Vermont would
sanctify by the name of "home," every one was ignorant. Whenever
questioned on this subject--he never obtruded the matter on anybody--it
was his custom to answer lightly:
"Home! what does such a waif, such a jetsam and flotsam of the world's
flowing tide, want with a home? Really, my dear boy"--or madam, if the
speaker happened to be of the gentler sex--"if ever you have occasion to
see me, I am sure to be at one of these three places: Leroy's chambers,
my club--the Pallodeon, or Barminster Castle."
And accordingly, to one of these places his fashionable acquaintances
directed their inquiries for him. Mr. Vermont, however, really possessed
a home, small, it is true, but one quite suitable to his needs, and
absolutely secluded from the possible knowledge of his friends in the
gay world.
After leaving Captain Beaumont, he had himself driven to the City.
Alighting in front of a large jeweller's shop, apparently with the
intention of purchasing something, he dismissed his car; then when it
had disappeared, walked quickly along the crowded thoroughfare for some
distance. At last, looking round furtively--for he was ever cautious--he
dived into one of the small entrances in Lawrence Lane, and mounting two
flights of stairs, entered the front room. This was the home, or rather,
perhaps, refuge from the conventions of society, that Mr. Vermont
possessed. Here he could find shelter at any time of the night, for he
possessed a private key; and by his orders the bed was kept constantly
aired and ready by the housekeeper; who had her own rooms on the floor
above. It was no unusual thing for her to leave the rooms tenantless
late in the evening, and find them occupied when she rose in the
morning, Jasper having arrived during the dead of night, silently as was
his invariable custom.
The second morning after his sudden return to town, Mr. Vermont was in
his sitting-room, which was very plainly furnished indeed, partaking of
a breakfast so simple that his fashionable friends would scarcely have
believed the evidence of their own eyes. When he had finished, and the
table had been cleared, he went over to the roll-top desk which stood in
an angle by the window, and opened it, disclosing piles of letters,
sheets, of closely written foolscap and slips of memorandum forms. On
the corner of the desk stood a telephone, which communicated with
Harker's private room, downstairs in the offices; they were dignified by
the name of Harker's "Bank," and were, of course, those of the
moneylending business which was carried on by Vermont in that name.
Taking up the receiver now, he asked Harker to come up to him as soon as
possible.
Within the next few minutes, George Harker was standing before the
master he both hated and feared. He was very tall, with a thin, lined
face, from which all light and hope seemed to have fled. His whole being
appeared wrapped up in attendance on Jasper Vermont. He watched him
eagerly now, not speaking until he was spoken to, but simply waiting
patiently, doggedly, till his master was ready to attend to him.
Vermont drew the heap of various papers towards him--with keen eyes and
quick brain grasped the multitude of facts they set forth, checked the
long column of figures, struck the balances; and, with a nod of
satisfaction, looked up at the man before him.
"All right, Harker, as far as I can see--and, as you know, that's all
the way and a little beyond. But we must do better than that. Where's
the private account?"
"Here, sir," said Harker, in a dry, rasping voice, somewhat like the
creaking of an old, rusty-hinged door.
"Where?--oh, yes, I see. Oh, Paxhorn has come to us, has he? Writing
poetry is not a paying game, eh? Or is it the fine, grand company that
runs away with the golden counters? Well, all fish--or idiots--that come
to our net are welcomed, no matter what wind drives them. Thirty per
cent. from Paxhorn. No more?"
"I could not get any more, sir," said Harker earnestly; "I tried--tried
hard--indeed I did, I assure you. I would not give in until he
threatened to go to another office."
"Hem! well, I suppose it's the truth; though, of course, all
moneylenders are rogues--and you're only a moneylender, you know." He
looked up for a moment to laugh at the logical joke. "Who backs his
paper? Lord Standon. Oh, my lord is pretty deep in our books already,
isn't he? Where are his statistics?"
"Here, sir," said Harker, taking one of the papers from the heap.
Jasper Vermont glanced at it, and laid it down again with an evil smile
on his face.
"Oh, he's good for more than that, Harker; but be cautious. We'll lend
him another ten thousand; but put on five per cent. Lords must pay, to
set the fashion to commoner folk. By the way, Captain Beaumont----"
"Whose bills you instructed me to call in, sir."
"Yes; well, I met him yesterday and promised to intercede for him you."
He laughed harshly. "What fun it is, poor idiot! He shook my hand with
profuse expressions of gratitude. Mr. Leroy will back the renewal and
you can let it run. Beaumont's the second son, Lord Dunford is on his
last legs, and the heir won't live another year, we can come down like
kites when the gallant captain has the title and estates. Till then
we'll wait; but stick out for another two-and-a-half per cent. Make the
calves bleed, Harker; it will do them and me good."
About that small matter of the young artist, Wilson, sir?"
"Eh! Wilson? Oh, yes. You got instructions to proceed in the usual way
to sell him up."
"Yes, sir, that was your order. He called yesterday, and pleaded for
another week. His wife is dying, and they are starving. He begs hard for
another week----"
Stuff, another week! the dog means another year. He should have thought
of the time for repaying when he was borrowing. Another week--not
another day. Start proceedings at once. Mind, I say it. Didn't I hear
him call me a 'parasite from the pavement' one night at a ball? Screens
have ears, Mr. Wilson, and parasites have memories. Sell him up--do you
hear, Harker?"
"I do sir; it shall be done," replied his servant meekly.
"And now for Leroy's account." With a gleam of fiendish delight in his
eyes, he scrutinized the figures and statements. "Ah! you are getting
them in fast."
"All Mr. Leroy's bills we are getting in--buying up wherever they are
met with, sir, according to your instructions."
"Right, get him into your hands--you know how. Be prepared for--you
know!"
Mr. Harker inclined his head.
"Now for the women. Ah, those dear butterfly creatures will come to the
nasty sticky papers that were meant to catch bluebottles only; well,
then, they must take the consequences. What! Lady Merivale--the fair
Eveline. Does she want to borrow money?"
"She dabbles in the Stock Exchange. I know her business man; he owes us
money, sir, and we know some of his secrets. She has been losing lately,
and has deposited her diamonds, sir--"
"Her diamonds? The famous Merivale diamonds? Where are they?"
"Here, sir." Mr. Harker produced from his long pocket a shallow morocco
case which he tendered mechanically to his employer.
Jasper Vermont opened the case, and gazed on its contents with twinkling
eyes; then, shutting it with a laugh, he leaned back in his chair,
rubbing his smooth fat hands over his chin.
"What will her ladyship do for them, and when were those left? I saw her
last night and--by Heaven! she wore--"
"Paste imitations, sir. I had them made up for her. Did you think the
counterfeit good?"
"Capital. Oh, isn't it rich! that old idiot must have eyed her proudly,
gloating over his famous diamonds on his wife's fair bosom, little
guessing they were Mr. Harker's tawdry glass mockeries. Capital, Harker,
but take care, take care. Remember the duchess who brought her jewels to
pledge, and discovered that they were paste already, and that the duke
had done the transmutation before her. Beware!"
"I am careful, sir, I am careful, very; I do not think--I trust--there
have been no losses, not even small ones. I do my best to secure your
interests."
"Well, I believe you. You keep up the appearances, I hope? Never forget
to tell people that you are only a subordinate, that you are acting for
others and strictly on the instructions given to you by them. The more
you assert it the more they'll think it a falsehood. Keep it up, Harker,
and then, well, you know I keep my promises. By the way, how is the
little Lucy?"
As he spoke the name, half scornfully, half indifferently, a visible
change came over his tool and puppet. His face became paler, if that
were possible, his head seemed to drop, his whole figure was expressive
of deepest dejection, fear, supplication.
"Well, sir, quite well, and deeply grateful for your kindness," he said,
wetting his dry lips.
"Ah! and so she should be, young hussey. A fine thing for her. Married
and respectable. If that soft-hearted, simple little husband of hers
knew all I know! Strange that I should have dropped on to her and that
first lover of hers down in that quiet place. Strange, wasn't it? Now I
daresay they thought they were as safe as at the bottom of the sea.
Didn't think that Mr. Jasper Vermont, a friend of the family, could be
staying at the same hotel. He ought to have married her, of course.
Better that he didn't, eh? Yet that weak, amiable grocer, innocent and
unsuspecting, lets her have it all her own way, and believes her just a
little purer and whiter than the angels. Clever little thing, Lucy.
Makes him think she loves him, I daresay."
"My poor child loves her husband better than her own life, sir,"
breathed the father. "She is so happy, they love each other so, and she
is my own flesh and blood. Forget that accursed night and the devil that
led her astray. Forget that she is anything but the wife of an honest
man. Have mercy on her, sir."
"Well, Harker, I will; I am all mercy. Do your duty by me and I won't go
down to tell the story of that night to Lucy's good, trusting husband.
But don't ask me to forget, my good fellow, for that's folly. I never
forget!"
"Thank you, sir, thank you," Harker said, wiping the perspiration from
his brow. "I will do my duty and work day and night in your interests,
if you will only spare my child and keep others from knowing of that one
false step."
Mr. Jasper Vermont leaned back in his chair, and regarded his servant's
agitation with quiet amusement for a few minutes; then he gathered all
the papers together, put them away in his desk, and dismissed Mr. Harker
with a nod, saying:
"You can go now. Don't forget the Leroy paper, renew Beaumont, but sell
up that artist scamp to the last stick and stone. Parasites can bite as
well as cling, Mr. Wilson."