THE TEMPTING OF MR. BLATHERWICK
Wolfenden was careful to reach the hall before the dinner gong had
sounded. His father greeted him warmly, and Wolfenden was surprised to
see so little outward change in him. He was carefully dressed, well
groomed in every respect, and he wore a delicate orchid in his
button-hole.
During dinner he discussed the little round of London life and its
various social events with perfect sanity, and permitted himself his
usual good-natured grumble at Wolfenden for his dilatoriness in the
choice of a profession.
He did not once refer to the subject of his own weakness until dessert
had been served, when he passed the claret to Wolfenden without filling
his own glass.
"You will excuse my not joining you," he said to his son, "but I have
still three or four hours' writing to do, and such work as mine requires
a very clear head--you can understand that, I daresay."
Wolfenden assented in silence. For the first time, perhaps, he fully
realised the ethical pity of seeing a man so distinguished the victim of
a hopeless and incurable mania. He watched him sitting at the head of
his table, courteous, gentle, dignified; noted too the air of
intellectual abstraction which followed upon his last speech, and in
which he seemed to dwell for the rest of the time during which they sat
together. Instinctively he knew what disillusionment must mean for him.
Sooner anything than that. It must never be. Never! he repeated firmly
to himself as he smoked a solitary cigar later on in the empty
smoking-room. Whatever happens he must be saved from that. There was a
knock at the door, and in response to his invitation to enter, Mr.
Blatherwick came in. Wolfenden, who was in the humour to prefer any
one's society to his own, greeted him pleasantly, and wheeled up an easy
chair opposite to his own.
"Come to have a smoke, Blatherwick?" he said. "That's right. Try one of
these cigars; the governor's are all right, but they are in such
shocking condition."
Mr. Blatherwick accepted one with some hesitation, and puffed slowly at
it with an air of great deliberation. He was a young man of mild
demeanour and deportment, and clerical aspirations. He wore thick
spectacles, and suffered from chronic biliousness.
"I am much obliged to you, Lord Wolfenden," he said. "I seldom smoke
cigars--it is not good for my sight. An occasional cigarette is all I
permit myself."
Wolfenden groaned inwardly, for his regalias were priceless and not to
be replaced; but he said nothing.
"I have taken the liberty, Lord Wolfenden," Mr. Blatherwick continued,
"of bringing for your inspection a letter I received this morning. It
is, I presume, intended for a practical joke, and I need not say that I
intend to treat it as such. At the same time as you were in the house, I
imagined that no--er--harm would ensue if I ventured to ask for your
opinion."
He handed an open letter to Wolfenden, who took it and read it through.
It was dated "---- London," and bore the postmark of the previous day.
"MR. ARNOLD BLATHERWICK.
"DEAR SIR,--The writer of this letter is prepared to offer you one
thousand pounds in return for a certain service which you are in a
position to perform. The details of that service can only be
explained to you in a personal interview, but broadly speaking it
is as follows:--
"You are engaged as private secretary to the Earl of Deringham,
lately an admiral in the British Navy. Your duties, it is presumed,
are to copy and revise papers and calculations having reference to
the coast defences and navy of Great Britain. The writer is himself
engaged upon a somewhat similar task, but not having had the
facilities accorded to Lord Deringham, is without one or two
important particulars. The service required of you is the supplying
of these, and for this you are offered one thousand pounds.
"As a man of honour you may possibly hesitate to at once embrace
this offer. You need not! Lord Deringham's work is practically
useless, for it is the work of a lunatic. You yourself, from your
intimate association with him, must know that this statement is
true. He will never be able to give coherent form to the mass of
statistics and information which he has collected. Therefore you do
him no harm in supplying these few particulars to one who will be
able to make use of them. The sum you are offered is out of all
proportion to their value--a few months' delay and they could
easily be acquired by the writer without the expenditure of a
single halfpenny. That, however, is not the point.
"I am rich and I have no time to spare. Hence this offer. I take it
that you are a man of common sense, and I take it for granted,
therefore, that you will not hesitate to accept this offer. Your
acquiescence will be assumed if you lunch at the Grand Hotel,
Cromer, between one and two, on Thursday following the receipt of
this letter. You will then be put in full possession of all the
information necessary to the carrying out of the proposals made to
you. You are well known to the writer, who will take the liberty
of joining you at your table."
The letter ended thus somewhat abruptly. Wolfenden, who had only glanced
it through at first, now re-read it carefully. Then he handed it back to
Blatherwick.
"It is a very curious communication," he said thoughtfully, "a very
curious communication indeed. I do not know what to think of it."
Mr. Blatherwick laid down his cigar with an air of great relief. He
would have liked to have thrown it away, but dared not.
"It must surely be intended for a practical joke, Lord Wolfenden," he
said. "Either that, or my correspondent has been ludicrously
misinformed."
"You do not consider, then, that my father's work is of any value at
all?" Wolfenden asked.
Mr. Blatherwick coughed apologetically, and watched the extinction of
the cigar by his side with obvious satisfaction.
"You would, I am sure, prefer," he said, "that I gave you a perfectly
straightforward answer to that question. I--er--cannot conceive that the
work upon which his lordship and I are engaged can be of the slightest
interest or use to anybody. I can assure you, Lord Wolfenden, that my
brain at times reels--positively reels--from the extraordinary nature of
the manuscripts which your father has passed on to me to copy. It is not
that they are merely technical, they are absolutely and entirely
meaningless. You ask me for my opinion, Lord Wolfenden, and I conceive
it to be my duty to answer you honestly. I am quite sure that his
lordship is not in a fit state of mind to undertake any serious work."
"The person who wrote that letter," Wolfenden remarked, "thought
otherwise."
"The person who wrote that letter," Mr. Blatherwick retorted quickly,
"if indeed it was written in good faith, is scarcely likely to know so
much about his lordship's condition of mind as I, who have spent the
greater portion of every day for three months with him."
"Do you consider that my father is getting worse, Mr. Blatherwick?"
Wolfenden asked.
"A week ago," Mr. Blatherwick said, "I should have replied that his
lordship's state of mind was exactly the same as when I first came here.
But there has been a change for the worse during the last week. It
commenced with his sudden, and I am bound to say, unfounded suspicions
of Miss Merton, whom I believe to be a most estimable and worthy young
lady."
Mr. Blatherwick paused, and appeared to be troubled with a slight cough.
The smile, which Wolfenden was not altogether able to conceal, seemed
somewhat to increase his embarrassment.
"The extraordinary occurrence of last night, which her ladyship has
probably detailed to you," Mr. Blatherwick continued, "was the next
development of what, I fear, we can only regard as downright insanity. I
regret having to speak so plainly, but I am afraid that any milder
phrase would be inapplicable."
"I am very sorry to hear this," Wolfenden remarked gravely.
"Under the circumstances," Mr. Blatherwick said, picking up his cigar
which was now extinct, and immediately laying it down again, "I trust
that you and Lady Deringham will excuse my not giving the customary
notice of my desire to leave. It is of course impossible for me to
continue to draw a--er--a stipend such as I am in receipt of for
services so ludicrously inadequate."
"Lady Deringham will be sorry to have you go," Wolfenden said. "Couldn't
you put up with it a little longer?"
"I would much prefer to leave," Mr. Blatherwick said decidedly. "I am
not physically strong, and I must confess that his lordship's attitude
at times positively alarms me. I fear that there is no doubt that he
committed an unprovoked assault last night upon that unfortunate keeper.
There is--er--no telling whom he might select for his next victim. If
quite convenient, Lord Wolfenden, I should like to leave to-morrow by an
early train."
"Oh! you can't go so soon as that," Wolfenden said. "How about this
letter?"
"You can take any steps you think proper with regard to it," Mr.
Blatherwick answered nervously. "Personally, I have nothing to do with
it. I thought of going to spend a week with an aunt of mine in Cornwall,
and I should like to leave by the early train to-morrow."
Wolfenden could scarcely keep from laughing, although he was a little
annoyed.
"Look here, Blatherwick," he said, "you must help me a little before you
go, there's a good fellow. I don't doubt for a moment what you say about
the poor old governor's condition of mind; but at the same time it's
rather an odd thing, isn't it, that his own sudden fear of having his
work stolen is followed up by the receipt of this letter to you? There
is some one, at any rate, who places a very high value upon his
manuscripts. I must say that I should like to know whom that letter came
from."
"I can assure you," Mr. Blatherwick said, "that I have not the faintest
idea."
"Of course you haven't," Wolfenden assented, a little impatiently. "But
don't you see how easy it will be for us to find out? You must go to the
Grand Hotel on Thursday for lunch, and meet this mysterious person."
"I would very much rather not," Mr. Blatherwick declared promptly. "I
should feel exceedingly uncomfortable; I should not like it at all!"
"Look here," Wolfenden said persuasively "I must find out who wrote that
letter, and can only do so with your help. You need only be there, I
will come up directly I have marked the man who comes to your table.
Your presence is all that is required; and I shall take it as a favour
if you will allow me to make you a present of a fifty-pound note."
Mr. Blatherwick flushed a little and hesitated. He had brothers and
sisters, whose bringing up was a terrible strain upon the slim purse of
his father, a country clergyman, and a great deal could be done with
fifty pounds. It was against his conscience as well as his inclinations
to remain in a post where his duties were a farce, but this was
different.
He sighed.
"You are very generous, Lord Wolfenden," he said. "I will stay until
after Thursday."
"There's a good fellow," Wolfenden said, much relieved. "Have another
cigar?"
Mr. Blatherwick rose hastily, and shook his head. "You must excuse me,
if you please," he said. "I will not smoke any more. I think if you will
not mind----"
Wolfenden turned to the window and held up his hand.
"Listen!" he said. "Is that a carriage at this time of night?"
A carriage it certainly was, passing by the window. In a moment they
heard it draw up at the front door, and some one alighted.
"Odd time for callers," Wolfenden remarked.
Mr. Blatherwick did not reply. He, too, was listening. In a moment they
heard the rustling of a woman's skirts outside, and the smoking-room
door opened.