About a quarter of an hour before the time appointed, Mr. Scriven
entered the door of his sister's house in ---- Square. The door was
opened by a maid-servant, for Lady Fleetwood always took her own man
with her: one of Maria's had also gone with the carriage, and the rest
were at Bolton Park. Mr. Scriven was generally as taciturn and dry
towards servants as towards associates; but on this occasion, as he
was going a little out of his usual track, he thought fit to say--
"I know your mistress is absent; but she desired me to speak with a
man who is coming to see her this morning at twelve."
"Yes, sir--I know," replied the maid, with a curtsey; "her ladyship
told me before she went away."
"More fool she," thought Mr. Scriven, as the maid opened the door of
the dining-room and showed him in; but he judged that a rejoinder was
requisite, and therefore he said--
"When the man comes, you will be so good as not to say that your
lady is out, but merely ask him to walk straight in here. Are the
drawing-room window-shutters open?"
"No, sir; we don't open them when my lady is out of town," said the
maid, dropping another curtsey; "but I'll go and do it directly."
"Do so," replied Mr. Scriven. "Have you got the key of the library?"
"No, sir," said the girl, looking towards a door which led into a
small apartment behind the dining-room: "perhaps it's open, though my
lady generally locks it when she goes away;" and she went forward and
tried the door, but it was locked.
"Go and open the shutters," said Mr. Scriven; and sitting down, he
looked attentively at his boot, which was exceedingly well polished.
Just as twelve o'clock struck--it might be a minute or two before--two
men entered the square, and approached direct towards the house. They
did not ring, however, for some minutes; but one of them looked up and
passed it. They then paused, and seemed to consult for a minute or
two; gazed round the square; looked one way and then another; waited a
minute, till two men who were carrying along a large looking-glass,
like a dead man on a stretcher, had got to some distance; and then,
turning back, they knocked and rang at the street door.
In answer to their inquiry for Lady Fleetwood, the maid said--
"Pray walk in. Her ladyship expected you, I think."
"Yes, yes," replied the taller man, who looked upon this announcement
of the lady's punctuality to her appointment as a very favourable
indication. "Yes, yes, she expects us;" and he strode into the hall,
followed by Mr. Mingy Bowes.
The maid shut the door, and then led the way to the dining-room; but
much was the surprise, and not a little the consternation, of the two
worthy personages, when, instead of a respectable old lady with a very
delicate complexion and a fine lace cap, they saw the tall, thin,
gentlemanly person of Mr. Scriven standing exactly before them, and
looking straight in their faces. They both paused for an instant, as
if not well knowing whether to turn tail and run away or not; but Mr.
Scriven decided the matter by saying--
"Come in, gentlemen. Lady Fleetwood was obliged to go out of town, and
she therefore begged me to confer with you upon the business which one
of you mentioned to her a day or two ago. I am a relation, as much
interested in the matter as herself, and perhaps more. Pray be
seated."
The maid shut the door, and the two men sat down, Mingy Bowes on the
very edge of his chair, his body inclined forward at an angle of
forty-five, his hands upon his knees; and his huge companion, Sam,
casting himself at once into a seat, throwing his long arm over the
back of his chair, and gazing upwards round the cornice, as if he were
a plasterer or an architect. Both kept silence.
"Well, gentlemen," said Mr. Scriven, who had also seated himself,
"will you be good enough to explain your business?"
"Why, as to that," said Sam, in his usual rude and abrupt manner, "I
thought you knew d--d well what my business is. Didn't you tell the
old girl, Mingy?"
"Yes, I told her exactly what you said," replied Mingy Bowes.
"Well, didn't she tell you?" asked Sam, addressing Mr. Scriven.
"She gave some explanations," replied that gentleman; "but you know
ladies' heads are not very clear, and therefore I would rather
hear the whole particulars from yourself. She said you had got a
pocket-book, which contained papers affecting the honour, and perhaps
the life, of a gentleman who may probably be closely connected with my
family."
"Ay, that's it," cried Sam; "and I told him to tell her that if she
liked to come down handsome I'd say nothing about it; but if she
didn't, I'd go and blow the whole to Scriven and Co. Those are the
people whose names were forged."
"Indeed!" said Mr. Scriven, in his usual calm and deliberate tone:
"well, the matter is worthy of some consideration."
"Devilish little time will I give for consideration," replied the
brute. "I'll have the money down this very day, and a promise of it
before I go, or else I'll be off to Scriven and Co. at once."
"Well, well," answered Mr. Scriven, "don't be impatient. I have no
doubt we shall come to terms of some sort before we part. As a man of
business, however, I must know what you can prove and what you cannot,
before I agree to anything."
"There, you fool!" whispered Mingy Bowes, in a low tone; "I told you
what you would do when you threw the pocket-book into the fire."
"You're the fool," answered Sam, fiercely; "and a d--d fool too!" And
then, turning to Mr. Scriven, he added, "What you say is all fair--two
sides to every bargain. So I'll tell you what I can prove, and then
you can let me prove it or not. I can prove that a man going about
here, calling himself Colonel Middleton, is the very same man who ten
years ago went by the name of Henry Hayley, and that he was then
accused of committing a forgery upon Scriven and Co. Now, I said the
papers in the book would either hang or save him; for in it was jotted
down his own account of the whole matter, showing that this Colonel
Middleton is just the same man; and that, if he had not run away as he
did, he would have been tried for the forgery, and been hanged for it
too, perhaps, had it not been for another paper that was in the book."
"Pray, what was that?" asked Mr. Scriven.
"Why, a paper in a different hand," replied the man, "written by the
young man's father, who calls himself Stephen Hayley, I think, and
says that he himself committed the forgery, and got the young man to
take the bill to the bankers' to be changed, without his knowing that
it was forged. It's a long story; but then he goes on to say that he
persuaded the young man to run away and take the blame, to save his
father's life; and that he gives him that paper to show his innocence,
in case he's caught."
Mr. Scriven mused for a moment or two with a frowning brow. For once
in his life, the first impression was a right one; and had he acted
upon it, he would have done justly and wisely.
There was so much probability in the story that he felt a difficulty
in disbelieving it, though he might wish to do so, and a repugnance to
pursuing plans incompatible with that belief; but, as he paused and
thought, selfishness mastered conscience; the wishes grew more strong,
and overpowered belief.
"That paper must be a fabrication," he said, aloud; and then,
addressing the man more directly, he added, "Have you got it? Let me
see it. I will return it to you again, upon my honour."
"Why, no--I haven't got it," replied Sam. "I burned it: I threw it,
and the pocket-book too, into the fire, because I thought the d--d
fellow they sent wanted to nab me."
"Then, how do you dare to come here," asked Mr. Scriven, "when you've
nothing to show as proof of your story?"
"Come, come--none of that," exclaimed the man, looking at him
fiercely. "I've got enough to show that this Henry Hayley and Colonel
Middleton are the same man. I didn't burn them in the pocket-book. I
was resolved to keep some hold on him; so I took them out first, while
Mingy was gone into the shop for the man he sent. So, if, without any
more palaver, you don't strike a bargain, and tell me what you or he
will give, I shall be off to Scriven and Co. directly, and let them
know all about it. He may then prove his innocence or let it alone;
but he'll find that a devilish difficult matter, now the other paper's
burned to a cinder in Mingy's grate."
"Can you show me those papers you have got?" said Mr. Scriven, in a
much more placable tone.
"Here they are," replied the man, taking a little roll from his
pocket; "but, unless I get a thousand pounds for them, I won't show
them to any one till I show them to Scriven and Co."
"Well, then, show them to me," replied the gentleman. "My name is
Scriven, and I am the person whose name was forged."
The fellow gazed in his face with a look of horror and consternation,
and demanded, with a terrible imprecation--
"Then are you Scriven and Co.?"
"I am the head of that house," replied Mr. Scriven, "and the 'Co.' has
long ceased to exist."
"Well, then, you have done me in a d--d unhandsome manner," said the
man, "and I should like to twist your neck about for your pains."
"I have done no such thing," answered Mr. Scriven. "I told you that I
am Lady Fleetwood's relation, which is true, and that I am here to act
for her, which is true also. Moreover, if you will listen to me for a
moment, you will see that, although you will not get a thousand pounds
from me upon any pretence whatever, you may make a reasonable profit
by this business notwithstanding. First, understand that I do not care
one pin whether this Henry Hayley, alias Middleton, be hanged or not,
except merely for the sake of justice. He showed himself exceedingly
ungrateful to me, and forged my name for a large sum; for that paper,
pretending to be his father's confession, is all a fabrication--but I
did not lose anything. It was the bankers who lost, and they offered a
reward of two hundred pounds for his apprehension, which offer is
still in force. I offered the same sum; perhaps it was foolish to do
so, for in truth I had nothing to do with it, but still I will not go
back from my word; and if you will follow out exactly what I tell you,
I may add a hundred pounds more, in order to open my niece's eyes, and
save her from the snare that this man has laid for her. That will make
five hundred pounds, which is all you will get. Will you do it or
not?"
"What do you say, Mingy?" said the one scoundrel, turning to the
other.
"Here, Sam--let me talk with you a bit," said Mingy Bowes, walking
towards the window. The other followed him, and for nearly ten minutes
they conferred together, very eagerly and in a low tone, while Mr.
Scriven coolly took some tablets from his pockets, and amused himself
with making notes and adding up sums. At length they returned again to
the table, and Sam began to speak; but Mr. Scriven waved his hand for
silence, and went on with his calculations, saying--
"Five and two are seven, and nine are sixteen, and six are twenty-two,
and seven are twenty-nine. Nine, and carry two.--Now, what is it?"
"Why, you see, sir," said Sam, in a very deferential tone, greatly
impressed with the merchant's coolness, "I'm afraid I can't."
"Why not?" demanded Mr. Scriven.
"Because, sir, I suppose you'd want me to give evidence," said Sam,
"and that might be rather ticklish for me. I don't want to put my own
neck into a noose, nor to take a swim in a ship at the expense of
government."
Mr. Scriven thought for a moment or two.
"I understand you," he said at last. "In fact, you knocked the young
man down and took the pocket-book and other things from him. He
mentioned the fact. Did he see you?"
"No, that he didn't," replied Sam, promptly; "and he can't prove that
I had any other things but the book."
"Then it seems to me the matter's very easy," said Mr. Scriven. "Let
us be frank with each other, my good friend. The case stands
thus:--You got the pocket-book, and he can prove it; so you won't help
yourself a bit by holding back that fact, for the officers are after
you by this time, depend upon it. Now, by coming forward and first
proving a crime against him, you help yourself very much; for if he's
convicted of felony first, he can't give evidence against you, and he
would have to prove that he was robbed of the pocket-book before he
could punish you for taking it."
"The only thing to do is, to get up a good story as to how you came to
have the book," said Mingy Bowes. "Can't you say you found it upon the
common that same night?"
"I dare say you've put away all the other things by this time," said
Mr. Scriven.
"Ay, they are safe enough," answered Sam.
"Well, then, your having nothing else but the pocket-book, which would
be valueless to any who did not examine the papers, will corroborate
your story," observed Mr. Scriven; "for people may naturally conclude
that those who took the things threw away the pocket-book on the
common when they found there was no money in it."
Sam looked at Mingy Bowes, and Mingy nodded his head approvingly,
saying--
"That'll do, I think, Sam."
"The only way of saving yourself and getting the money," said Mr.
Scriven, "is to go at the thing boldly. The very fact of your making
the charge will be a presumption in your favour. People will all say,
of course, that you would not have ventured to do so if you had taken
the thing unlawfully, and I will do what I can to help you, you may
depend upon it; but remember, you must act according to my directions,
and I will answer for it that no harm shall happen to you."
"Hang it, sir!" said the man, "one so often hears it said, 'No harm
shall happen to you,' and then a great deal does, that I am half
afraid."
"What else have you to propose?" asked Mr. Scriven, in his driest
tone. "If you reject good counsel, you must have some scheme or plan
already formed. I know not what it is, but think it somewhat more than
dangerous, whatever it may be; for I can see no way of extricating
yourself but that which has been named."
"Lord bless you! I've no scheme, sir," said the man, who, to say the
truth, was a good deal bewildered by the new point of view in which
the question had been placed before him. "What do you say, Mingy?"
Mingy Bowes shook his head doubtfully, without venturing a reply; and
Mr. Scriven, seeing clearly that the unexpected discovery of his name,
together with the disclosure of all their secrets, had, as it were,
left the men no choice but to follow his plan or to fly, thought he
might as well throw in the last inducement--as he would have done, in
selling one or two thousand bales of goods, by giving a bale or two
over and above the bargain.
"You will remember, sir," he said, addressing Mingy, "that in advising
your friend, I myself have no choice in this matter. If he enables me
to break off the match between this man and my niece by coming frankly
forward, it will, of course, be a duty and a pleasure for me to help
him to the utmost of my ability; but if, on the contrary, he holds
back, I must take part with Colonel Middleton, and must do what I can
to prove my niece's husband worthy of her affection."
"That's to say, you'd hang me if you could," replied Sam.
"Undoubtedly," answered Mr. Scriven, in his usual dry manner.
"Well, that's hard," said the man; "but you seem to have got me in a
cleft stick, and so I suppose I must do what you please."
"Ay, that's right," replied Mr. Scriven. "I tell you conscientiously,
and upon my honour, that I think it the only way to save yourself; and
then you get five hundred pounds into the bargain, you know."
"I'll do it, or I'll be hanged!" said the man, warming
enthusiastically at the thought of the money. "They can but give me
what they call a life-interest in the colony, and I don't much care
for that. Come, it's a bargain. I'll help you to fix the young man so
that the beaks can't have the least doubt in the world that he is the
chap; and whenever he's fixed, I'm to have the five hundred."
"There's the offer of a reward by Messrs. Stolterforth and Co. the
bankers who cashed the bill," said Mr. Scriven; "so you see that it
will be necessary to do what we propose, as soon as possible. Now let
me see the papers, because there can be no use in concealing them."
"There they are," replied Sam. "Look you here. He has been careful
enough; but he says in this one, which looks like a sort of day-book,
that he determined at a certain time to go back to England, under the
_assumed_ name of Colonel Middleton."
Mr. Scriven looked over the papers carefully, and as great an
expression of satisfaction appeared upon his countenance as he ever
suffered to take possession of his usually inanimate features.
"That's all right," he said, turning one down: "now, if there's
nothing to upset the scheme, you'll get your five hundred pounds to a
certainty; and though that is not a thousand, it is better than
nothing."
"A devil of a deal," said the man, delighted with the notion of the
money; "but you haven't looked at the one next to it. It's got
something in it too. That is something. But I think now, Mingy, as
this is settled, we had better pack up our tools and be off."
"No, no, stay," said the other; "there are two or three things more to
be settled. You must come to me at six o'clock this evening, when we
can finally arrange all our plans; and, if you take my advice, you
will not go to any coffee-shop, nor to any of your usual haunts; for
depend upon it this Colonel Middleton, as he is called, has set many a
trap for you."
"I don't think he dare," said the man, "being quite sure I know such a
deal about him."
"Oh, he'll try to have the first word as well as you," replied Mr.
Scriven; "but we must prevent him. He is gone down to Northumberland
for a day or two, perhaps to keep out of the way rather than anything
else; and the best plan for us to follow will be to go after him at
once, pounce upon him in the country, give him in charge, and if
possible get the country magistrates, who know nothing about him, to
commit him. You come to me at six, as I have said, and in the mean
time I will go away to the police-office, and get the notes of the
former proceedings. Now, good-bye for the present; but do not think
that you can bolt and leave me in the lurch, by going away out of town
or out of England; for I shall have one or two sharp hands looking
after you, and depend upon it, wherever you went they would find you
out."
"Oh, I shan't bolt," replied Sam. "You have got me under the
pitchfork, and must do what you like. I'll be at your house by six, if
you tell me where it is."
"Willingly," answered Mr. Scriven, writing the name of the street and
the number of the house down in pencil. "You'll find me there at six
o'clock precisely; but remember, I'm very punctual, and I do not wait
for any one."
"I'll be there to the minute," answered the man, "for I've nothing
else to do; but I suppose I come upon honour, and that nobody will try
to stop me from coming away again."
"Neither by any fault nor any indiscretion of mine," answered Mr.
Scriven; "but you must take care in the mean time for fear they should
shut you up. If you and I can set off to Northumberland at once, while
the iron is hot, you will be out of the way yourself, and we shall
take this lad quite unprepared, and have him before a justice ere he
knows what he's doing. It must depend upon circumstances, however--I
mean, from what I see in the city. If all's right, and if I can go
away, we will set out this very night or to-morrow morning."
"That's all right, sir; that's all right," said Sam. "I'll be there to
the minute; and now I suppose we had better go away, for I see you've
got your hat in your hand, and I suppose your time's short."
"Very, considering all I have to do," replied Mr. Scriven; "and as I
know this matter is important, the sooner it is got through the
better."
"Certainly, sir, certainly," answered Sam; "you shan't wait for me.
So, good morning to you."
Mr. Scriven did not half like to let him go, but there was no help for
it. He had once thought of giving him in charge to a constable; but
that, he saw, might spoil all his plans, and he abandoned the idea
directly. There were no securities to be taken of such a man except
his fears or his interests; and both of these, Mr. Scriven imagined,
he had to a certain degree enlisted on his side. Nevertheless, when he
saw him depart, he felt a good many unpleasant doubts as to whether
he should ever see his face again, unless at the bar of some
police-court.