hinted at murder. It appeared that his defeated rivals on the Local
Board had lodged a protest against him for bribery and corruption.
Grandpapa nearly went mad with rage. He knocked a man down in the open
street, and was summoned and appeared at a police court, and had to be
bound over to keep the peace. Finally he lost his seat on the Local
Board, the case going against him; and as he dashed into the kitchen,
where I was showing the cook how to make something, he absolutely foamed
at the mouth. He threatened to buy dynamite, to blow Chislehurst to the
skies, to destroy his political opponents with poison. Then he talked
seriously of ending his own existence, from which step I dissuaded him,
feeling at the same time, that he could hardly make worse arrangements
for his future than he had already done. After dinner on that day he
said he should give up trying to do good, and he kept his word. He took
to living at the _Eight Bells_, and to writing insulting letters to the
local papers. One of these cost him a hundred pounds in a libel action.
Then (and I was not sorry for it) he found some brown hair on his head.
This threatened to spread and attract attention, so I considered that
the time had come for us to make another move, and begin life upon a new
plan with altered relationships.
*CHAPTER VIII.*
_*MARIE ROGERS.*_
Heaven knows that I do not wish to show up grandpapa in this narrative,
or make the unhappy old sufferer appear worse than he was. Indeed, my
desire is to write with a dispassionate pen, to state facts, and leave
scientists, legal experts, and students of ethics to draw their own
conclusions. But I do not intend that anything shall blind me to what I
owe my grandpapa; and I will say that in the matter of Marie Rogers he
was not entirely to blame. The girl set her cap at him, haunted him in
the tap-room at her father’s place of entertainment, sent him flowers,
gushed about him to me, and did everything she could to flatter his
vanity. This had always been extremely easy. He was still old enough to
feel tickled by the attention of a woman of thirty. Miss Rogers had a
childish prettiness of manner, which might have been effective when she
was younger, but struck me as rather ridiculous now. She talked young
and dressed young, and pretended a general ignorance of the seamy side
of the world which took in my grandpapa completely. No doubt it had
similarly deceived the life insurance agent. That young man lost his
temper with Miss Rogers over the matter of my grandpapa, and received
short notice in consequence.
"Gad!" said grandfather, "it’s very gratifying--an old buffer of a
hundred and six to cut out this youngster. What d’ ye think of her,
Martha? Not a day older than thirty--eh?"
"I think you are on the verge of a volcano, grandpapa. You are doing a
most dangerous thing by stopping here. Already people laugh at your new
piebald wig, as they call it. You ought to have left Chislehurst three
months ago, as I urged you at the time."
"Well, well, let ’em laugh. Who cares? I’m sure I don’t. This girl
takes my fancy, and that’s a fact. She’s in love with me, and can’t
hide it, and Rogers hasn’t any objection."
"Of course not; he knows what you’re worth."
"I’ve been wondering if I could run away with her and marry her
somewhere in Scotland," said grandpapa, winking at me. I did not
understand the wink, and asked him what he meant.
"It doesn’t matter," he answered, "only she might get tired of me when I
grow younger; and I myself might fancy something a little fresher later
on."
"Once and for all," I said, "this inclination towards matrimony is
reprehensible and must be crushed, dear grandpapa. I implore of you to
fight against it. Don’t let every woman you meet fool you into a
declaration. Do be circumspect; for Heaven’s sake, look on ahead."
"It’s brutal always asking me to do that," he answered, shedding tears,
for it was one of his maudlin days; "I don’t want to look ahead. The
future can take care of itself. I’m spoiling for somebody who would be a
comfort to me at home--somebody who would take a bright view of things
and not always be ramming the future down my throat, like you do. I see
no reason why I should not marry."
"Then let me give you some," I answered desperately. "You must remember
what lies in store. No woman shall suffer as I have suffered and am
suffering. This girl, Marie Rogers, is thirty or more; you are--say,
five-and-fifty. In four years’ time you will be _fifteen_! You cannot
get away from that. The horrible fact is reached by simple arithmetic.
Imagine yourself at that age saddled with a wife, and perhaps a family!
If you can face such a prospect with a good conscience, I cannot. I’d
rather die than see you in such a position."
He laughed bitterly.
"What relation would you be to them, I wonder? The brats would be your
uncles and aunts, and my wife your grandmother! What a fool you’d look!"
I couldn’t see it, and for the first time since the commencement of the
New Scheme, I lost my temper with grandpapa.
"Oh, you horrid, depraved old man!" I cried, "will no words, or tears,
or prayers, make you pause and reflect? Cannot your only surviving
relation, your own son’s child, carry any weight with you? Would you
rather have this flighty female at your side than me? Cannot you
realise what I am doing for you, what you would be without me? I blush
for you; I blush for your disgraceful tastes and wicked ambitions. You,
who ought to spend all your time on your knees and in church, calling on
Providence to avert this doom! You shall not marry. Hear me, I say,
once and for all, you shall not. If you dare to get engaged again, I’ll
tell the woman’s people. I’ll make a clean breast of it to Mr. Rogers.
Then you’ll have to leave this place whether you like it or not. I’ve
done a great deal for you, but I’m only human, and you’ve stung me
beyond endurance to-day. Let us have no repetition of this terrible
conversation. Make your choice once for all. Take Marie Rogers, or let
me stay with you, and fight for you. But you cannot have both of us."
He was rather cowed by my vehemence.
"Of course, if you’re going to make such a a fuss, I must debate with
myself," he said. "Only it’s rather awkward now. Why didn’t you speak
sooner? You must have seen the woman adoring me for the last six
weeks."
"I gave you credit for a certain amount of proper feeling," I answered.
"That was weak," he said. "I’ve made a law unto myself lately. As a
matter of fact we are engaged. I popped the question yesterday in the
bar-parlour, and she cried and asked me to see the old man. He was
delighted. I didn’t explain things to him, but it’s a very good
bargain--for Marie. She’ll have a rum time of it certainly for five
years and six months; then I shall fade away, or be carried off in a
fiery chariot or something, and she can take the money. Still, I may be
doing a foolish thing. My tastes are changing so readily. I’m certain
to drop my eye on something more up-to-date as soon as I’m booked to
her."
"I implore you, grandpapa, to throw her over. She doesn’t love you.
She is marrying you for your money. Her regard will never stand against
the shock of finding out the New Scheme. She will confide in others and
ruin your peace of mind. Possibly she will run away altogether when you
begin to--to shrink, as you must. I, on the contrary, am prepared to
face everything. Tear her image from your heart! Fight the passion and
conquer it. Rest on me!"
My grandpapa smoked and drank whisky, while I sat up into the small
hours and argued with him.
"I believe you’re right," he said at last. "I can’t face the girl, nor
yet her father now; but I really think we’d better drop the connection.
Socially, of course, it’s not satisfactory at all. No doubt young
Widdicombe, the life insurance agent, will come back when I’m gone.
Yes, we’d better make tracks, perhaps. She hasn’t got anything in
writing. Besides, I’m sick of this place. I’ve quarrelled with pretty
nearly everybody in it, and I’m owing some money too--some debts of
honour--that I think I can wriggle out of paying. I’ll try and forget
Marie. We’ll ’shoot the moon’ before quarter-day."
By "shooting the moon," my grandpapa explained that he employed a
well-known technicality which meant leaving Chislehurst at night, in an
abrupt manner, without letting our departure be known beforehand or
advertising our new address in the local newspapers, or even mentioning
it at the post-office.
*CHAPTER IX.*
_*IN LONDON ONCE MORE.*_
Of course, a hale man with a strong will of his own, numerous vices,
rapidly-decreasing years, and strong, if misplaced, convictions, was
more than an unmarried, inexperienced, woman of my age could be expected
to manage.
As time progressed I gave up attempting to reform grandpapa, and simply
contented myself with praying that he might complete his career without
falling into absolute crime. The thought of seeing him in a felon’s
dock at the last haunted me like a nightmare. He would get younger and
less familiar with the wicked ways of the world daily. As a young man,
he was one for whom traps, snares, and pitfalls had never been set in
vain. When he reached a hundred and eight he would look and feel twenty
years of age under the New Scheme. Then, how probable that the poor old
man might fall a prey to some iniquitous schemer! I told him my fears,
and he sneered bitterly, and said:
"Yes, a pretty old cough-drop I should look, shouldn’t I, being
sentenced to penal servitude for life--at a hundred and nine years of
age? Then you’d see an advertisement in the papers, ’Wanted, at
Portland Prison, a wet nurse for the notorious forger and embezzler,
Daniel Dolphin.’ Bless you, Martha, there’s some real fun in store for
you and me yet."
I cried and begged him not to say such things. It was a horrible
thought, and yet had a ray of comfort in it, that if I could only keep
the old man fairly straight for the next five years, or less, he would
then be at my mercy again. By that time somebody would certainly have
to be a second mother to grandpapa.
We "shot the moon" on a night when there was none. Our next move took
us back to town. I hired a little flat, No. 1, Oxford Mansions, a snug
place enough, near Earl’s Court. According to custom, we left no
address behind us, and began life anew. I was obliged to drop all my
old friends in Peckham Rye and Ealing for grandpapa’s sake. I had met
Mrs. Hopkins at Whiteley’s, and told her the old man was dead. She
pressed me to come and see her, and I answered that I would write. Then
I hastened away to the Drugs Department, leaving her in the
Haberdashery, astonished and disappointed. My heart sorrowed, for I
loved the good woman; but there was nothing else to be done. On another
occasion grandpapa took me to the Royal Figi Exhibition at Earl’s Court,
and we ran right on top of the Bangley-Browns. The girls recognised me,
and whispered to their mother; but, of course, they did not know
grandpapa. He was twenty years younger than when they last saw him.
Mrs. Bangley-Brown turned very red, and sailed towards me; but I dodged
with my grandpapa round a refreshment building, and then dragged him
through a crowd to the entrance of the Exhibition, finally escaping in a
hansom cab.
"What do I care?" he said. "I’d like to have spoken to her again. I
spotted ’em before you did. She wasn’t half a bad old bounder. Those
gals don’t go off apparently; too much torso and not enough tin, eh?"
In this painful style did the old man speak of two perfect ladies, whose
only crime was a hereditary inclination to _enbonpoint_. I toned him
down when I could, but he rarely listened to me now. It was as his
sister that I posed at No. 1, Oxford Mansions. He had grown into a very
corpulent, big-bearded man. He wore white waistcoats, and followed
fashion, and took particular pains with his person. He abandoned
politics and began to develop interest in City affairs. Once he brought
home a new friend who he said was on the Stock Exchange--a most
gentlemanly, polite individual, who treated me with a courtesy and
consideration to which I had long been a stranger. After he had gone,
grandpapa told me he was somebody of great importance.
"He’s floating a fine scheme that’s got thousands in it," he explained.
"We dined at Richmond with some friends last week, and, coming home in
the drag, Phil Montague--that’s his name--let me into a secret or two,
and promised me shares. Mind, Martha, I’m doing this for you. Don’t
say I never think of you. When I’m gone, you’ll draw many a fine
dividend from the ’Automatic Postcard Company.’ And when you draw ’em,
think of me, far away--probably frying."
Mr. Phil Montague called again, and, finally, I know that grandpapa took
at least a thousand pounds of his capital out of Something Three Per
Cents, and put them into Automatic Postcards. Then he suddenly
determined to go upon the Stock Exchange himself. I think that he would
have carried out this mad project, but other affairs distracted his
attention. Hardly was the company of Mr. Phil Montague well floated
when that gentleman called again, dined by invitation, and broached a
new scheme to grandpapa.
This man represents my own greatest failure as a student of character.
I was utterly deceived in him. He simply laid himself out to deceive
me. Doubtless he felt that if he could get me on his side he would be
able to deal with grandpapa all the more easily. Outwardly Mr. Montague
was both religious and modest; which qualities, openly paraded in a
stockbroker, appeared very beautiful to me. He also quoted Scripture,
not ostentatiously, but evidently from habit. He constantly alluded to
his dead mother, and told me that he took exotics to her grave at
Brompton every second Sunday afternoon. How many financiers would do
that? He never talked business in front of me, and I found after he had
known my grandpapa about a month that the old man began to grow very
secretive and peculiar. A cunning furtive look appeared in his eye; he
was away from home--in the City and elsewhere--a great deal; he avoided
discussion of his affairs as far as possible. Once I asked him some
question about Mr. Montague’s own status, and he laughed, and answered
in bad taste--
"Spoons, eh? Well, Martha, old chip, I believe he’s gone on you, too,
or else he’s playing the fool because he thinks it will please me.
’Fine woman, your sister,’ he said to me last week. ’Fine for her
age--she’s sixty,’ I answered."
"Grandfather, you _know_ I’m not!"
"Well, you look it, every hour of it. But he pretended to be surprised,
and said it was strange you hadn’t made some good man happy before now."
"I think he is a very worthy, honourable gentleman, grandfather, and I
wish you would try and be more like him."
"Bless you, Phil’s all right. We’re great pals. And he’s got some
brains under that sanctified manner, too. We have a little bit of fun
in hand just now that means a pile for us both, if I’m not mistaken."
At this moment Mr. Montague himself was announced, and, without waiting
to enquire of grandpapa whether I might do so, I asked him boldly of
what nature was his new enterprise.
*CHAPTER X.*
_*THE CRUSADE.*_
"I will tell you with great pleasure, dear Miss Dolphin," he said, in
his sad, rather sweet voice.
He sat down, stroked his clean-shaven chin, drew up his trousers that
their elegant appearance might not be spoiled by his sharp, thin knees,
and then spoke:
"Your brother and I are engaged in a crusade. Is not that the word, Mr.
Dolphin?"
"As good as any other," said my grandpapa.
"Better than any other. You have doubtless heard of Monte Carlo, Miss
Dolphin? It is a plague-spot on the fair face of France. God made the
Riviera; man is responsible for Monte Carlo. The Prince of Monaco is
the landlord, so I understand; the Prince of Darkness is the tenant.
Miss Dolphin, it is often necessary to fight the Devil with his own
weapons. We are going to Monte Carlo with a golden sword. Your brother
finds the sword--I wield it."
"In plain English, Martha, Montague’s worked out a dead snip----"
"A system, pardon me."
"Well, a ’system,’ that will take the stuffing out of the strongest bank
that ever robbed innocents. We are both going."
"Grandf--! Daniel! Going to Monte Carlo!"
"Yes. Don’t want you. It’s simply a matter of business."
"Let me explain," said Mr. Montague. "You are rather startled, dear Miss
Dolphin, and I cannot wonder at it."
He blew his nose. His handkerchiefs and shirt-cuffs and so on were
always beautiful. He said:
"The facts are these. I have had an inspiration. Heaven has from my
earliest youth been pleased to bestow upon me certain mathematical gifts
denied to most men. This power of dealing with figures was not given me
for nothing. It is a talent not to be hidden in a napkin."
"No fear," said grandpapa.
"I have long been seeking some outlet for my peculiar ability, and I
have at length found it. In my hand is a power, that rightly exercised,
will extinguish one of the greatest evils of the present day. Under
Heaven I have been mercifully permitted to discover a system which rises
naturally from certain processes in the higher mathematics. This system
applied to the laws which govern chance produces a most startling
result. It annihilates chance altogether, and substitutes certainty. Do
I make myself clear?"
"Clear as crystal," said grandpapa, chuckling.
"A lady can hardly be interested in my deductions, but their
conclusions, their practical results, will not fail to interest her,"
continued Mr. Montague. "My system, once grasped and accepted, becomes
a law, and the effect of that law must be a revolution in human society.
Think, dear Miss Dolphin, of a world from which all element of chance is
eliminated! The vices of gambling and betting vanish. Mathematics will
rise superior to human roguery. We know when to expect red or black--I
refer to card-playing; we know which horse ought to win every race, and
if it doesn’t we know where to throw the blame; we know everything; we
are become as gods!"
"But what has that to do with Monte Carlo, sir?" I ventured to ask.
"Good old Martha! Go up one," said grandpapa.
Then Mr. Montague turned to me and answered my question.
"I expected you would ask that, Miss Dolphin, and I gladly explain.
Monte Carlo is the headquarters of this pestilential passion, this love
of gambling which dominates mankind. We are going to begin a crusade
there, and fight against the most powerful troops the enemy has at
command."
"That’s so! I’m planking down a thousand; and we’re goin’ to play a big
game and make some of ’em hop, and wish they had never been born," said
grandpapa.
"In other and more seemly words, Miss Dolphin, we design to crush Monte
Carlo, to wipe that blot from the fair face of France. The gambling hell
shall be no more; treachery, falsehood, knavery shall cease out of the
land."
"And we’ll come home with flags flying, in a triumphal car drawn by
oof-birds," said grandpapa.
"That, of course, is a circumstance incidental to the scheme," explained
Mr. Montague to me. "You do not understand your brother, naturally
enough, but what he means is that a large sum of money will accrue to
us. With this wealth we shall develop my system, and place it within
the reach of the misguided speculators of all countries."
Grandpapa exploded with noisy laughter, and patted Mr. Montague on the
back.
"Why not do so first?" I asked. "Why not publish this great discovery
at once in the papers?"
"Give it away! Good Lord, Martha--and you a lawyer’s daughter!" said
grandpapa.
"I would do so willingly enough," answered Mr. Montague, "but
advertisement is a costly business. To make the system sufficiently
known would require an expenditure of many thousands of pounds. You see
no better advertisement of it could be hit upon than breaking the bank
at Monte Carlo. We shall go on breaking that bank until the proprietors
are ruined and the place is shut up. Then we shall return home."
"By way of Paris," said grandpapa. "If you like to meet us there," he
added, with his real affection for me bubbling up to the surface of his
nature, "you may; and we’ll make a bit of a splash among the frogs."
But I had never been out of England in my life, and did not like the
picture of splashing with grandpapa in Paris. At the same time the
thought of him splashing there alone was even less pleasant.
Mr. Montague said a few more words, promised never to lose sight of my
grandfather and then took his leave, kissing my hand on his departure,
in a stately, old-fashioned way which was very pleasing to me.
I could not help contrasting him with grandpapa, to the disadvantage of
the latter. They looked about the same age, yet how different in their
conduct, language, and attitude towards the gentler sex! One behaved,
and thought, and acted as though he was forty-five; the other, who
ought, heaven knows, to have been old-fashioned, and staid, and
sensible, conducted himself like a fast, silly boy of twenty-one. For
about this time grandfather began to grow young for his years, even on
the New Scheme.
He bought some showy clothes, cloth caps, and knickerbockers, a
meerschaum pipe, a spirit-flask, and several other things at the Army
and Navy Stores. For these he certainly paid, but he gave the people
who served him an imaginary name and ticket number. Rather than spend
five shillings in a member’s voucher, he told a lie to the officials
of-the Co-operative Society; which I should think was very unusual.
Then the old man drew another precious thousand pounds out of Government
securities, and went away with Mr. Montague to wipe out Monte Carlo.
I was fearful of the entire concern, but he told me to "keep up my
pecker and watch the papers," and so departed in roaring spirits. The
only thing which troubled him was that his time for "blueing the booty"
would be so short. To this day I have never met anybody who could
explain the meaning of the expression "blueing the booty."
*CHAPTER XI.*
_*A NEW LEAF TURNED.*_
I am a simple old woman, ready to see fine qualities in anybody,
unwilling to doubt the honesty of fellow-creatures or the good faith of
their assertions. Therefore I am not ashamed to confess that Mr.
Montague entirely deceived me, and turned out, not merely no better than
he should have been, but much worse. He deceived dear grandpapa, too,
though in a different way.
"I thought he was a sly beggar who ’d found a plum in the pie," said
grandfather to me afterwards; "but it wasn’t so--a mere blackleg, a
scamp, a devourer of orphans. Break the bank? No, we didn’t break the
bank, but I broke his nose, and scattered his false teeth from one end
of the Casino to the other, and dusted the steps with him afterwards!"
These and other things grandpapa said when he returned from Monte Carlo.
I watched the daily journals as he directed, and so was not wholly
unprepared for the fiasco which resulted from his trip to the Continent.
Indeed two startling items, both involving dear grandpapa, met my eye on
the same morning, in the same copy of the _Daily Telegraph_. Under the
"agony column" of that periodical I read as follows:--
"Wanted, address of one Daniel Dolphin. The same to Rogers, ’Eight
Bells,’ Chislehurst, will meet with a reward."
And elsewhere, under the heading of "Scene at Monte Carlo," occurred
this paragraph:
"The English here are making things lively. Two adventurers with a new
’system’ began to play last night and lost a thousand pounds at a
sitting. One appears to have been a knave, the other a fool. When
their resources were exhausted they came to blows, and the bigger man,
presumed to be the capitalist, fell upon his companion and thrashed him
unmercifully. It appears they had come in great state with a flourish
of trumpets; but their ’system,’ like most others, though doubtless
pretty on paper, broke down at the tables. Both men have disappeared."
Here was cause for alarm if you will. I could not be sure that the
persons mentioned were my dear grandfather and his companion, but
somehow I always fancied that the matter related to them. I also dimly
guessed why Mr. Rogers wanted grandpapa’s address. No doubt Marie’s
affections had been trifled with, and the law possesses power to
estimate the value of such broken promises in pounds, shillings, and
pence.
I waited a fortnight without hearing a word from grandpapa. Then he
suddenly came home, penniless and destitute of everything but the
clothes on his back. He had grown thinner, and nearly a year younger,
but his health appeared excellent, though his memory seemed to be
impaired. Of course time was winging backwards at such a hideous rate
with grandpapa that events, which only seemed of yesterday to me,
already grew dim in his memory.
I sent for the tailor to come and measure him for some new clothes, and
then begged he would tell me all that had happened. He began
immediately about Paris, but I reminded him of Monte Carlo and Mr. Phil
Montague. Then he grew enraged, and explained to me how he had treated
that gentleman.
"I left the place next day, and slipped back to Paris. There I’ve had a
pretty good time, but it’s an expensive place. I kept a few hundreds up
my sleeve, you know, and after I’d lost the ’thou.,’ which simply
filtered away in a few hours, I reckoned I’d get better money’s worth
with what was left. So I went to Paris and had a gaudy fortnight."