Читать книгу The Veiled Man - Ambrose Pratt - Страница 7

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Cawthorne Castle stands upon the brow of the first of a small range of hills that rise somewhat abruptly from the flat country surrounding the shipbuilding town of Stayton. In olden days the Earls of Cawthorne had owned every foot of land, which could be seen from the Castle's topmost turret. But time and the encroachment of circumstances had contracted their holdings to a few thousand acres of parks and coverts.

In exchange, however, for the alienated territories they had received so generous an interest in the profits of the industrial life of the place, that for more than a century no scion of the house had envied the rent-rolls of his ancestors.

So it came to pass that when the veiled man and his cousin looked townwards on the morning after their arrival at the Castle, while the later deplored the tall ungainly cranes and the smoke-darkened western heavens, the former easily consoled him with a practical remark.

"But, my dear Adam, with a better view, where would your fortune be? You are the largest shareholder in those great works."

After his business with the estate solicitors was done, Lord Cawthorne paid a visit to London in order to procure a wardrobe suitable to his state. He returned a week later furnished in accordance with approved Bond-street regulations, to find that most of the country magnates had called upon him in his absence. The veiled man urged him to get immediately to work. The late Earl, his departed granduncle, had been a director in the great Shipbuilding Company whose operations supported the town, and as the office was still vacant, Mr. Deen wished his cousin to assume its duties and responsibilities.

"I have ascertained," said he, "that the election has been postponed pending your arrival in England, and it is common talk in town that all the directors are anxious for you to join them."

"You have ascertained," echoed the young Earl. "Is it possible that you have been going about, Jack?"

Mr. Deen shook his head and pointed to Simon, who was polishing the legs of the great piano.

"I have not left my rooms, John," he replied. "I don't suppose I ever shall."

The Earl looked at Simon rather dubiously. "A gossip, eh," he observed.

"A discreet one, at all events. Well, Adam, you agree?"

"I suppose so; though to be candid, old chap, I did not want to get into harness quite so soon."

"But consider the chance, Adam. It is heaven-sent in my opinion. As a director of the company you will commence your life work armed with power to influence the lives of an immense number of your fellow-beings. Simon tells me that the works employ two thousand men."

The Earl looked slightly bored. "A lot of people seem to have called while I was away. I'll have to return their visits," he remarked.

"You'll have time enough for that, Adam."

"I thought of giving a ball or something," said the Earl.

The veiled man made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Give twenty balls if you wish, my dear fellow," he answered sharply. "But in the meantime go and call upon Sir Felix Greig, the managing director of the company, and inform him of your intention to stand for the vacant seat on the board."

"Oh, certainly, if you insist."

"I insist. Go this afternoon, please."

Lord Cawthorne's face colored hotly and he seemed on the point of making a retort. Much, however, to Simon's surprise, he checked himself, and said in constrained tones, "Very well, Jack. Is there anything else you wish me to do?"

"Nothing at present, Adam."

The Earl nodded, swung on his heel, and left the room.

Simon thought it very wonderful that the Earl had given way so abjectly to the veiled man's wishes.

"Gad," he muttered in soliloquy. "I begin to pity the Earl. He's evidently a natural born gay dog, and Mr. Deen has him on a chain. Wonder how long he will stand it? He doesn't look weak."

"Come here, Simon," said the veiled man.

"Sir," with alacrity. Simon was a perfect servant when he chose, and it appeared that he had chosen. The hermit's luxurious apartments were as clean as spic and span as if kept in order by a regiment of chambermaids. Fresh cut flowers filled the bowls, and the walnut furniture shone like so many mirrors. Above all, in personal attendance he was exquisite and indefatigable. Prompt to execute the veiled man's lightest commands, he was always on hand when wanted, and he trod like a cat. Mr. Deen would not have parted with him for a fortune.

"You heard what passed?" asked the veiled man.

"Yes, sir."

"His nature is indolent and pleasure loving."

"Yes, sir."

"But his heart is in the right place, Simon."

"Yes, sir."

"This evening, Simon, you will go into the town and begin to make inquiries where you please, concerning all the prettiest women who are ladies, and who reside in the neighborhood—married and single alike. Forewarned is forearmed."

"Yes, sir."

"You will also take pains to ascertain the repute in which they are individually held. In my opinion the so-called lower-orders are the aristocracy's kindest critics, but we must make a start where we can."

"Yes, sir."

"That is all."

Simon bowed and vanished.

The veiled man strolled slowly across to the piano, and sitting down before it, allowed his fingers to wander over the ivory keys. They evoked a melody whose troubled sweetness was surely a reflection of the player's mind. Mr. Deen was a master of the instrument, and it responded with unquestioning obedience to his moods. Presently the strains grew calmer, but sad and full of wistfulness. The veiled man sank in meditation, often sighed.