A SAFE INVESTMENT.
"The second-floor front have come in, Ben," said Mrs. Mogg, of 19A
Poland-street, as she opened the door to her husband on a wet
and windy autumnal evening; "she have come and brought her
luggage--a green carpet-bag with a poll-parrot worked on it, and a
foreign-looking bandbox tied up in a handkerchief. She's French, Ben,
that's what she is."
"Is she?" said Mr. Mogg shortly. "Well, I'm hungry, that's what I am;
so get me my tea."
He had had a long and dirty walk home from the West-India Docks, where
he was employed as a warehouseman, and chattering in a windy passage
about his wife's lodger scarcely seemed to him the most desirable way
of employing his first moments at home.
But after dispatching two large breakfast-cups of tea, and several
rounds Of hot salt-buttered toast, from which the crust had been
carefully cut away, Mr. Mogg was somewhat mollified, and wiping his
mouth and fingers on the dirty tablecloth, felt himself in cue to
resume the conversation.
"O, the new second-floor has come, Martha, has she?" he commenced; "and
she's French, you think. Well," continued Mr. Mogg, who was naturally
rather slow in bringing his ideas into focus, "Dickson may or may not
be a French name. That it's an English one, we all know; but that's no
reason that it should not be a French one too, there being, as is well
known, several words which are the same in both languages."
"She wrote down 'P. Dickson' when she came to take the rooms this
morning, and I see P. D. worked on her purse when she took it out to
pay the first week's rent in advance," said Mrs. Mogg.
"Then it's clear enough her name is Dickson," said Mr. Mogg, with a
singular facility of reasoning. "What should you say she was, now,
Martha--you're good at reckoning 'em up, you are--what is the
second-floor front, should you say?"
"Either a gov'ness or a lady's-maid out of place," said Mrs. Mogg
decisively. "I thought she was a gov'ness until I see the sovereigns in
her purse, and then made up my mind she was a lady's-maid as had given
up her place either through a death, or the family going abroad or
giving up housekeeping; and these were the sovereigns which she had
just got from the wardrobe-shop for the perquisites and etceteras
which she had brought away with her."
"You're a clear-headed one, you are," said Mr. Mogg, looking at his
wife with great delight. "Has she had anything to eat?"
"O yes," said Mrs. Mogg, giggling with some asperity; "she brought a
lettice in with her, I suppose; for when I went up to ask her whether
I should get-in any little trifle for breakfast, I found her eating of
it, and dropping some lumps of sugar into a tumbler of water."
"Well, that's beastly," said Mr. Mogg. "These foreigners are disgusting
in their ways, one always heard; but how did you make her understand
you about breakfast?"
"Lor' bless yer, man, she speaks English first-rate--so well, that
when I first see her, I thought she was a countrywoman of mine from
Norfolk."
"Well, so long as she pays regularly, and don't stop out late at night,
it don't matter to us where she comes from," said Mr. Mogg, stretching
out his arms and indulging in a hearty yawn. "Now, Martha, get me my
pipe; and when you have cleared these things away, come and sit down,
and let's have a quiet talk about how we are to get rid of the German
teacher in the back attic."
The newly-arrived tenant of the second floor, whom these worthies in
the kitchen were thus discussing, was walking up and down her room in
much the same manner as she had paced the platform at Lymington or the
Prado at Marseilles. It was very lucky that the occupant of the
drawing-room---a gentleman who taught noblemen and senators the art of
declamation--had not on that evening one of his usual classes, in
which budding orators were accustomed to deliver Mark Antony's speech
over the sofa-pillow transformed for the nonce into the dead body of
Caesar, and where, to encourage his pupils, the professor would set
forth that his name was Norval, and proceed to bewail the bucolic
disposition of his parent, or the grinding sound of the heels above
would have sadly interfered with the lesson. It was well that Pauline
was not interrupted; for the demon of rage and jealousy was at work
within her. The burning shame consequent on the belief that she had
been deceived and made a fool of nearly maddened her; and as every
phase of the deceit to which she now imagined she had fallen so ready
a victim rose before her mind, she clasped her arms above her head and
groaned aloud.
"To think," she cried, "that I, who had known him so long and so
intimately--I, who had been his companion in his plottings and
intrigues, who had sat by, night after night and day after day,
watching the patience and skill with which he prepared the pitfalls
for others,--that I should be so blind, so weak, so besotted, as to
fall into them myself! Lies from the first, and lie upon lie! A lie to
the man Calverley, whose agent he pretended he would be; a lie to the
old man Claxton, who obtained the place for him, and sent him the
money by the pale-faced woman; then a lie to me,--a cleverer kind of
lie, a lie involving some tracasserie, for I am not one to be deceived
in the ordinary manner. To me he admitted he intended playing false
with the others; and now I am reckoned among those whom he has
hoodwinked and befooled!
"The notion that came across me at that place! It must be true! He
never meant to come there; he sent me on a fool's errand, and he would
never be within miles of the spot. The whole thing was a trick, a
well-planned trick, from the first; well-planned, and so plausible
too! The flight to Weymouth, then to Guernsey; hours of departure of
trains and steamer all noted and arranged. What a cunning rogue! What
a long-headed plausible rascal! And the money, the two thousand pounds
--many would be deceived by that. He thought I would argue that if he
had intended to leave me, he never would have handed over to me those
bank-notes.
"But I know him better. He is a vaurien, swindler, liar; but though I
suppose he never loved me in the way that other people understand
love, I have been useful to him, and he has become used to me; so
used, that he cannot bear to think of me in misery or want. So he gave
me the money to set his mind at ease, that my reproachful figure
should not rise between him and his new-found happiness. Does he think
that money can compensate me for the mental agony that I shall suffer
always, that I suffer now? Does he think that it will salve my wounded
pride, that it will do away with the misery and degradation I feel?
And having been cheated by a shallow artifice, will money deprive me
of my memory, and stop the current of my thoughts? Because I shall not
starve, can money bereave me of my fancies, or keep away mental
pictures it will drive me mad to contemplate? I can see them all now;
can see him with her; can hear the very phrases he will use, and can
imagine his manner when he talks of love to her. How short a time it
seems since I listened to those burning words from the same lips! How
well I remember each incident in the happy journey from Marseilles,
the pleasant days at Genoa, the long stay at Florence! Where has he
gone now, I wonder? To what haunt of luxury and ease has he taken his
new toy? Fool that I am to remain here dreaming and speculating, when
I want to know, when I must know! I must and will find out where they
are; and then quickness, energy, perseverance--he has praised them
more than once when they served him--shall be brought into play to
work his ruin."
At this point in her train of thought Pauline was interrupted by a
knock at the door of her room. Starting at the sound, she raised her
head and listened eagerly; but whatever fancy she may have indulged in
as to the idea as to who might be her visitor, was speedily dispelled
by hearing the short sniff and the apologetic cough with which Mrs.
Mogg was wont to herald her arrival; and being bade to come in, that
worthy woman made her appearance, smiling graciously. It was Mrs.
Mogg's habit to fill up such leisure as her own normal labour and
active superintendence of the one domestic slave of the household,
known as "Melia," permitted her, in paying complimentary calls upon
her various lodgers, apparently with the view of looking after their
comforts and tendering her services, but really with the intention of
what she called "taking stock" of their circumstances, and making
herself acquainted with any peculiarities likely, in her idea, to
affect the question of her rent. Having thoroughly discussed with her
husband the possibility of getting rid of the German teacher, and it
being pleasantly arranged between them that the unfortunate linguist
was to be decoyed into the street at as early a period as possible on
the ensuing morning, and then and there locked out, his one miserable
little portmanteau being detained as a hostage, Mrs. Mogg was in
excellent spirits, and determined to make herself agreeable to her new
lodger.
"Good evening, ma'am," she commenced; "time being getting late, and
this being your first night under our humble roof, I took the liberty
of looking in to see if things was comfortable, or there was anything
in the way of a Child's night-light or that, you might require."
Almost wearied out with the weight of the wretched thoughts over
which, for the last forty-eight hours, she had been brooding, Pauline
felt the relief even of this interruption, and answered graciously
and with as much cheerfulness as she could assume. "The room was
comfortable," she said, "and there was nothing she required; but
would not madame sit down? She seemed to be always hard at work, and
must be tired after climbing those steep stairs. Perhaps she would not
object to a little refreshment?"
Mrs. Mogg's eyes gleamed as from her neat hand-bag Pauline produced a
small silver flask, and pouring some of its contents into a tumbler,
handed the water-bottle to her landlady, to mix for herself.
"Thank you, ma'am," said Mrs. Mogg, seating herself on one of the two
rush-bottomed chairs, and smoothing her apron over her lap with both
her hands. "It is a pull up the stairs after one's been hard at it all
day, and a little drop of comfort like this does one no harm, whatever
they may say against it, more especially when it's like this, and not
the vitriol and mahogany-shavings which they sell by the quartern at
the Goldsmith's Arms. You didn't bring this from France with you, did
you, ma'm?"
"O no," said Pauline, with a half smile. "It is a long time since I
left France."
"Ah, so I should think," said Mrs. Mogg, "by your civilised ways of
going on, let alone your speaking our language so capital. Mogg,
meaning my husband, was in France once, at Boolong, with the
Foresters' excursion, and thought very high of the living he got
during the two hours he was there."
"Ah, you have a husband," said Pauline, beginning to lapse into
dreariness.
"O yes, ma'am, and as good a husband as woman could wish, a
hard-working man, and taking no holidays save with the Foresters to
the Crystal Palace, Easter Mondays, and suchlike. He's in the docks is
Mogg."
"In the docks," said Pauline; "he would know, then, all about ships?"
"O no, ma'am," said Mrs. Mogg, with a slight toss of the head; "that's
the Katherine's Docks you are thinking of where the General Steam goes
from. Hogg is in the West-Injia Docks: he's in the sale-room--horns
and hides, and other foreign produce."
"Then he has nothing to do with ships?"
"Nothing at all, ma'am. It would be easier work for him if he had,
though more outdoor work; but his is terrible hard work, more
especially on sale days. He's regular tired out to-night, poor man;
for to-day has been a sale day, and Mogg was at it from morning till
night, attending to Mr. Calverley's consignments."
"Mr. Calverley!" cried Pauline, roused at last; "do you know him?"
"O no, not I, ma'am," said the landlady, "only through hearing of him
from Mogg. He's one of the largest merchants in horns and hides is Mr.
Calverley, and there is never a shipload comes in but he takes most of
it. Mogg has done business for him--leastways for the house, for when
Mogg knew it first Mr. Calverley was only a clerk there--for the last
thirty years."
"Is Mr. Calverley married?"
"O yes, ma'am. He married Mrs. Gurwood, which was Miss Lorraine
before she married Mr. Gurwood, who killed himself with drink and
carryings-on. A pious lady, Mrs. Calverley, though haughty and
stand-offish, and, they do say, keeping Mr. C.'s nose to the
grindstone close."
"And Mr. Calverley, what is he like?"
"Not much to look at, ma'am, but the kindest and the best of men. My
nephew Joe is light-porter in their house; and the way in which Mr.
Calverley behaves to him--half-holiday here, half-a-crown there,
Christmas-boxes regular, and cold meat and beer whenever he goes up to
the house--no tongue can tell. Likewise most bountiful to Injuns and
foreigners of all kinds, Spaniards and that like, providing for
children and orphans, and getting them into hospitals, or giving them
money to go back to their own country."
"Where is Mr. Calverley's address--his business address; his office I
mean?"
"In Mincing-lane, in the City, ma'am. It's as well known as the Bank
of England, or the West-Injia Docks themselves. May I make so bold as
to inquire what you want with Mr. Calverley, ma'am?" said Mrs. Mogg,
whose curiosity, stimulated by the brandy-and-water, was fast getting
the better of her discretion; "if it's anything in the horn and hide
way," she added, as the notion of something to be made on commission
crossed her mind, "I am sure anything that Mogg could do he would be
most happy."
"No, thank you," said Pauline coldly; "my inquiry had nothing to do
with business."
And shortly after, Mrs. Mogg, seeing that her lodger had relapsed into
thought, and had replaced the silver flask in her hand-bag, took her
departure.
"What that Frenchwoman can want with Mr. Calverley," said she to her
husband, after she had narrated to him the above conversation, "is more
than I can think; his name came up quite promiscuous, and she never
stopped talking about him while I was there. She'd have gone on
gossiping till now, but I had my work to do, and told her so, and came
away."
Mrs. Mogg's curiosity was not responded to by her husband; a man
naturally reticent, and given in the interval between his supper and
his bed to silent pipe-smoking. "They're a rum lot, foreigners," he
said; and after that he spoke no more.
Meanwhile Pauline, left to herself, at once resumed the tiger-like
pacing of her room. "I must not lose sight," she said, "of any clue
which is likely to serve me. Where he is, she will be; and until I
have found them both, and made them feel what it is to attempt to play
the fool with me, I shall not rest satisfied. I must find means to
become acquainted with this Calverley; for sooner or later he must
hear something of Tom Durham, whom he believes to have gone to Ceylon
as his agent, and whose non-arrival there will of course be reported
to him. So long as my husband and the poor puny thing for whom he has
deserted me, can force money from the old man Claxton, they will do
so. But in whatever relations she may stand to him, when he discovers
her flight he will stop the supplies, and I should think Monsieur
Durham will probably turn up with some cleverly-concocted story to
account for his quitting the ship. They will learn that by telegraph
from Gibraltar, I suppose; and he will again seek for legitimate
employment. Meanwhile I have the satisfaction of striking him with his
own whip and stabbing him with his own dagger, by using the money
which he gave me to help me in my endeavours to hunt him down. The
money! It is there safe enough!"
As she placed her hand within the bosom of her dress, a curious
expression, first of surprise, then of triumph, swept across her face.
"The letter!" she said, as she pulled it forth,--"the letter, almost
as important as the banknotes themselves, Tom Durham called it. It is
sealed! Shall I open it; but for what good? To find, perhaps, a
confession that he loves me no more, that he has taken this means to
end our connection, and that he has given me the money to make amends
for his betrayal of me--shall I-- Bah! doubtless it is another part of
the fraud, and contains nothing of any value."
She broke the seal as she spoke, opened the envelope, and took out its
contents, a single sheet of paper, on which was written:
"I have duly received the paper you sent me, and have placed it intact
in another envelope, marked 'Akhbar K,' which I have deposited in the
second drawer of my iron safe. Besides myself no one but my
confidential head-clerk knows even as much as this, and I am glad that
I declined to receive your confidence in the matter, as my very
ignorance may at some future time be of service to you, or--don't
think me harsh, but I have known you long enough to speak plainly to
you--may prevent my being compromised. The packet will be given up to
no one but yourself in person, or to some one who can describe the
indorsement, as proof that they are accredited by you. H. S."
This letter Pauline read and re-read over carefully; then with a
shoulder-shrug returned it to its envelope, and replaced it in her
bosom.
"Mysterious," she said, "and unsatisfactory, as is everything
connected with Monsieur Durham! The paper to which this letter refers
is of importance doubtless, but what it may contain, and who 'H. S.'
may be, are equally unknown to me; and without that information I am
helpless to make use of it. Let it remain there! A time may come when
t will be of service. Meanwhile I have the two thousand pounds to work
with, and Monsieur Calverley to work upon; he is the only link which I
can see at present to connect me with my fugitive husband. Through him
is the only means I have of obtaining any information as to the
whereabouts of this traitorous pair. The clue is slight enough, but it
may serve in default of a better, and I must set my wits to work to
make it useful."
So the night went on; and the Mogg household, the proprietors
themselves in the back-kitchen; the circulating librarian in the
parlours; the Italian nobleman, who dealt in cameos an coral and
bric-a-brac jewelry, in the drawing-room; the Belgian basso, who
smoked such strong tobacco, and cleared his throat with such alarming
vehemence, in the second floor back; and the German teacher, in
ignorance of his intended forcible change of domicile, in the attic;
all these slept the sleep of the just, and snored the snores c the
weary; while Pauline, half undressed, lay on her bed, with eyes indeed
half closed, but with her brain active and at work. In the middle of
the night, warned by the rapid decrease of her candle that in a few
minutes she would be in darkness, she rose from the bed, and taking
from her carpet-bag a small neat blotting-book, she sat down at the
table, and in a thin, clear, legible hand, to the practised eye
eminently suggestive of hotel bills, wrote the following letter:
"19A _Poland-street, Soho_.
"Monsieur,--As a Frenchwoman domiciled in England, the name of
Monsieur Calverley has become familiar to me as that of a
gentleman--ah, the true English word!--who is renowned as one of the
most constant and liberal benefactors to all kinds of charities for
distressed foreigners. Do not start, monsieur; do not turn aside or
put away this letter in the idea that you have already arrived exactly
at its meaning and intention. Naturally enough you think that the
writer is about to throw herself on your mercy, and to implore you for
money, or for admission into one of those asylums towards the support
of which you do so much. It is not so, monsieur; though, were my
circumstances different, it is to you I should apply, knowing that
your ear is never deaf to such complaint. I have no want of money,
though my soul is crushed; and I am well and strong in body, though my
heart is wounded and bleeding, calamities for which, even in England,
there are no hospitals nor doctors. Yet, monsieur, am I one of that
clientèle which you have so nobly made your own--the foreigners in
distress. Do you think that the only distressed foreigners are the
people who want to give lessons, or get orders for wine and cigars,
the poor governesses, the demoiselles de magasin, the émigrés of the
Republic and the Empire? No, there is another kind of distressed
foreigner,--the woman with a small sum, on which she must live for the
rest of her days, in penury if she manages ill, in decent thrift if
she manages well. Who will guide her? I am such a woman, monsieur. To
my own country, where I have lost all ties, and where remain to me but
sad memories, I will not return. In this land, where, if I have no
ties, yet have I no sad memories, I will remain. I have a small sum of
money, on the interest of which I must exist; and to you I apply,
monsieur; you, the merchant prince, the patron and benefactor of my
countrymen, to advise in the investment of this poor sum, and keep me
from the hands of charlatans and swindlers, who otherwise would rob me
of it. I await your gracious answer,
"Monsieur; and am
"Your servant,
"PALMYRE DU TERTRE."
The next morning Pauline conveyed this letter to the office in
Mincing-lane, and asked to see Mr. Calverley; but on being told by a
smart clerk that Mr. Calverley was out of town, visiting the iron
works in the North, and would not be back for some days, she left the
letter in the clerk's hands, and begged for an answer at his chief's
convenience.