WHILE Dodd stood lowering in the doorway, he was nevertheless making a
great effort to control his agitation.
At last he said in a stern but low voice, in which, however, a quick ear
might detect a tremor of agitation: “I have changed my mind, sir: I want
my money back.”
At this, though David's face had prepared him, Mr. Hardie's heart
sank: but there was no help for it. He said faintly, “Certainly. May
I ask----?” and there he stopped; for it was hardly prudent to ask
anything.
“No matter,” replied Dodd, his agitation rising even at this slight
delay. “Come! my money! I must and will have it.”
Hardie drew himself up majestically. “Captain Dodd, this is a strange
way of demanding what nobody here disputes.”
“Well, I beg your pardon,” said Dodd, a little awed by his dignity and
fairness, “but I can't help it.”
The quick, supple banker saw the slight advantage he had gained, and
his mind went into a whirl. What should he do? It was death to part with
this money and gain nothing by it. Sooner tell Dodd of the love affair,
and open a treaty on this basis: he clung to this money like limpet to
its rock; and so intense and rapid were his thoughts and schemes how to
retain it a little longer, that David's apologies buzzed in his ear like
the drone of a beetle.
The latter went on to say, “You see, sir, it's my children's fortune, my
boy Edward's, and my little Julia's: and so many have been trying to get
it from me, that my blood boils up in a moment about it now.--My poor
head!--You don't seem to understand what I am saying! There then, I am a
sailor; I can't go beating and tacking like you landsmen, with the wind
dead astern. The long and the short is, I don't feel It safe here: don't
feel It safe anywhere, except in my wife's lap. So no more words: here's
your receipt; give me my money.”
“Certainly, Captain Dodd. Call to-morrow morning at the bank, and
it will be paid on demand in the regular way: the bank opens at ten
o'clock.”
“No, no; I can't wait. I should be dead of anxiety before then. Why not
pay it me here and now? You took it here.”
“We receive deposits till four o'clock, but we do not disburse after
three. This is the system of all banks.”
“That is all nonsense: if you are open to receive money, you are open to
pay it.”
“My dear sir, if you were not entirely ignorant of business, you would
be aware that these things are not done in this way. Money received is
passed to account, and the cashier is the only person who can honour
your draft on it. But, stop; if the cashier is in the bank, we may
manage it for you yet. Skinner, run and see whether he has left: and if
not, send him to me directly.” The cashier took his cue and ran out.
David was silent.
The cashier speedily returned, saying, with a disappointed air, “The
cashier has been gone this quarter of an hour.”
David maintained an ominous silence.
“That is unfortunate,” remarked Hardie. “But, after all, it is only till
to-morrow morning. Still I regret this circumstance, sir; and I feel
that all these precautions we are obliged to take must seem unreasonable
to you. But experience dictates this severe routine, and, were we to
deviate from it, our friends' money would not be so safe in our hands as
it always has been at present.”
David eyed him sternly, but let him run on. When he had concluded
his flowing periods, David said quietly, “So you can't give me my own
because your cashier has carried it away?”
Hardie smiled. “No, no; but because he has locked it up and carried away
the key.”
“It is not in this room, then?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“What, not in that safe of yours, there?”
“Certainly not,” said Hardie stoutly.
“Open the safe: the keys are in it.”
“Open the safe? What for?”
“To show me It is not in the right-hand partition of that safe; there:
there.” And David pointed at the very place where it was.
The dignified Mr. Hardie felt ready to sink with shame: a kind of
shudder passed through him, and he was about to comply, heart-sick;
but then wounded pride and the rage of disappointment stung him, and he
turned in defiance. “You are impertinent, sir, and I shall not reward
your curiosity and your insolence by showing you the contents of my
safe.”
“My money! my money!” cried David fiercely: “no more words, for I shan't
listen to them: I know you now for what you are--a thief! I saw you
put it into that safe: a liar is always a thief. You want to steal my
children's money: I'll have your life first. My money! ye pirate! or I'll
strangle you.” And he advanced upon him purple with rage, and shot out
his long threatening arm and brown fingers working in the air. “D'ye
know what I did to a French land-shark that tried to rob me of It? I
throttled him with these fingers till his eyes and his tongue
started out of him. He came for my children's money, and I killed him
so--so--so--as I'll kill you, you thief! you liar! you scoundrel!”
His face black and convulsed with rage, and his outstretched fingers
working convulsively, and hungering for a rogue's throat, made the
resolute Hardie quake. He whipped out of the furious man's way, and got
to the safe, pale and trembling. “Hush! no violence!” he gasped: “I'll
give you your money this moment you ruffian.”
While he unlocked the safe with trembling hands, Dodd stood like a
man petrified, his arm and fingers stretched out and threatening; and
Skinner saw him pull at his necktie furiously, like one choking.
Hardie got the notes and bills all in a hurry, and held them out to
Dodd.
In which act, to his consternation and surprise and indignation, he
received a back-handed blow on the eye that dazzled him for an instant;
and there was David with his arms struggling wildly and his fists
clenched, his face purple, and his eyes distorted so that little was
seen but the whites the next moment his teeth gnashed loudly together,
and he fell headlong on the floor with a concussion so momentous that
the windows rattled and the room shook violently; the dust rose in a
cloud.
A loud ejaculation burst from Hardie and Skinner,
And then there was an awful silence.