BRISCOE SEES THINGS IN A NEW LIGHT
Food and drink were provided for Clacher in the library. It was a
very large room, and he sat at a little table in the corner, out
of hearing of the low tones in which Briscoe and Lee conversed.
Lee was exceedingly angry at Briscoe for having got tipsy, and
rated him severely, getting no response, however, save laughter or
a drunken 'You shut up.' At last, losing patience, he dashed a
tumbler of water in the drunken man's face. Briscoe rose to
strike; but Lee gave him another tumbler, and while he was still
rubbing the water out of his eyes, a third, which knocked him down
into his chair again, pretty well sobered and very surly. Lee was
a man of great physical strength, and although on several
occasions Briscoe had been able to control his will, a single bout
at fisticuffs had shown, once for all, who was master in that
branch of dialectic.
'My dear Briscoe,' said Lee, handing him his handkerchief to help
to dry himself, 'this is really too bad of you. Do you think I
don't know the meaning of those stuffed pockets of yours? You've
been helping yourself, forgetting altogether the work of art in
which we are engaged.'
'Heaven helps those that help themselves,' growled Briscoe, still
a little maudlin and very crusty.
'A very good proverb indeed; but it has always seemed to me to
require a gloss, as, say, "Help yourself, and Heaven will develop
heroic qualities in you by opposing you." So you see I am
interfering with you to give your acts a higher tone. You'll have
to empty out your pockets, my boy. Nobody need know; and, if they
should, kleptomania is quite genteel.'
'Now, look here,' said Briscoe: 'I'm not fit for this almighty art
of yours. By Jove, when I think of where I am, and what we're up
to, I can hardly believe it's me! Just you give me as much money
as you can, and let me slope quietly, and you'll get on far better
without me. I never could grease myself and worm through the tight
places--get through the world, as folks say; and I tell you it
would be far better for you if I were away.'
'Briscoe, I have always admired your independent character,' said
Lee. 'Neither can I get through the world; but there's another
method which equally insures success, and that is, to transcend
the world: death by starvation is then itself a glorious
triumph--the triumph of the idea. I know what I mean, and, though
I were to explain till doomsday, you wouldn't, so it don't matter.
You will confer a lasting benefit on the world if you stay and
help with the work in which I am engaged. It is a glorious labour,
apart from its artistic merit; for it is raising the tone of
everybody about me. It is just what these people needed,
especially Muriel and Frank--the dash of bitter that strengthens
the sweet, the need for rebellion that wakens the soul, the spur
that drives natures roughshod over convention, the----'
'Draw it mild,' interposed Briscoe sneeringly. 'To-morrow, or
maybe to-night, Caroline will be down with the real man, and what
will you do then?'
'I long for their arrival. That will be the great scene.'
'What'll you do?'
'Well, murder I merely glanced at. To turn them out of the house
as impostors, though a simple solution of the matter for a short
time, would only stave off a final settlement. This is what I
intend: to shut up Chartres in one of the rooms, pinioned, and, if
necessary, gagged, as a dangerous lunatic, until I can have him
removed to a private asylum, which will be a matter of only a few
hours; and, once there, we are safer than if he were in the
grave.'
'How will you manage that?'
'The simplest thing in the world. You can't have read many novels
or you wouldn't ask. Besides the novels, however, I have studied
the lunacy laws; and I could put you, Briscoe--sensible,
hard-headed fellow as you are--into an asylum to-morrow, and defy
the world to take you out!'
'By Jove, there's a chance here!' said Briscoe. 'Damn it, man,
banish your dreams, and do the thing as a downright piece of the
finest villainy ever perpetrated.'
'I haven't the least objection, my dear Briscoe, that you should
be a villain. There's not one, at present, in the work, and if you
choose, still collaborating with me, to adopt such a role, I shall
be very glad indeed.'
'I'll do it,' said Briscoe, rising. 'I'll go off to Glasgow and
prepare the whole thing for to-morrow early.'
'The last train from Greenock left some time ago.'
'What! is it so late as that?'
'Yes; but you can go off to-morrow before breakfast.'
'Very well. But we're going to do this, mind! No shamming--no
artistic flourishes--upright, downright villainy!'
'On your part, certainly.'
'And I'm to marry Muriel?'
'Oh, you must see that is impossible. The girl will fight to the
death against it. Besides, it would be thoroughly inartistic. No,
no. My intention is to bring about an elopement; and then to
discover that you are Frank's father. You see? You're old enough.
He's only twenty-two, and you're over forty. The invention of
antecedents and the getting up evidence will be most engrossing.
Of course I'll intercept these young people, and drive them to the
very last resource. It will do them any amount of good.'
Briscoe put up his hand warningly, and Lee turned his head and saw
Clacher standing behind him.
'Ah! my good friend,' he said, 'have you had enough?'
'Ay,' said Clacher.
'Do you remember what it is you want to do "Englified"?'
'No--yet.'
'Do you think you'll remember soon?'
'Mebbe, if ye'll let me alone, and gie me some mair drink.
Whusky.'
'Certainly,' said Lee, rising. 'You can have this room to
yourself, and I shall send you whiskey.'
'I think I'll go to bed,' said Briscoe. 'I'm very tired; and I'll
have an early start to-morrow.'
'Come out and smoke a cigar with me first,' said Lee. And then in
a whisper, 'I want you to help me. They may arrive any moment.'
'Of course,' replied Briscoe, in the same tone, clenching his
fists. 'I forgot that.'
So Clacher was left with a decanter of whiskey; and as soon as he
was alone he pulled from his breast-pocket a dirty letter, which
he read and re-read, and thought over and got madder about: and he
always took the other glass of whiskey, muttering to himself, 'I
canna' mind, I canna' mind.'