Читать книгу A Gilded Serpent - James Edward Muddock - Страница 9

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AS Norah surmized might be the case, it became known to her father that she had received a letter. The groom was the informant. The man had received instructions to keep a close watch on his young mistress, and as ample reward was promised both by his master and Mr. Pym, if he rendered faithful service, he did not hesitate to play the part of spy. Mr. Lacey, relying on the fondness a young woman has for treasuring her love- letters, deemed it highly probable that the letter Norah had received, if it was from Jim, would not be destroyed. He therefore instructed his wife to make a careful search that night for the letter, as it might prove valuable in furnishing proof of what Spedwick's intentions were, and they might then be able to guard against them. Unhappily for Norah's peace of mind she did treasure the missive. Her first impulse was to destroy it, but it seemed like sacrilege to do that. She couldn't bring herself to do it. She would keep it until the morrow she thought, and destroy it after she had read it again and again. The written words of love from a lover to his mistress are so precious that a young woman may be pardoned for attaching an importance to them, which to the unsentimental world seems ridiculous. It would have been better, however, for Norah had she allowed caution to over- rule sentiment in this instance. As it was she did not exercise even ordinary care, for she placed it in her open jewel-case, where her vigilant mother discovered it, and the next day the girl had to face her parents, who confronted her with what they termed that "damning evidence" of her guilt. One sentence was dwelt upon, as pointing to peculiar depravity on the part of the writer. It ran thus—

"It is pretty evident, I think, that while your father lives our chances of coming together are small, unless by something like a miracle he can be converted to our views. But unfortunately the age of miracles is past."

Poor Norah endured something worse than a bad quarter of an hour. For nearly two hours she was subjected to her father's wrath. Never before had she known him so utterly carried away by his feelings. The strength of his expressions to her was only excelled by his abuse of Jim, whom he described as a disturber of the family peace, and "a dangerous and unprincipled young scoundrel." He dwelt with great emphasis on Spedwick's poverty.

"Surely," he said, "you can hardly be responsible for your actions if you prefer poverty and misery with a pauper to wealth and luxury with a man of position."

"I prefer poverty and love to luxury and a loveless marriage," replied his daughter boldly.

This irritated Mr. Lacey still more, and he vowed she should marry Pym if he had to drag her to the altar.

"This mad infatuation of yours must be cured," he exclaimed, "even though I have to shut you up until you come to your senses."

In spite of his show of authority and his threats Mr. Lacey felt far from satisfied that his control was as complete as he tried to make himself believe it was. He told his wife that their departure for London must be hastened, and the date for the marriage of Norah and Pym be fixed much earlier than originally intended. In the meantime increased vigilance was to be exercised over Norah, and Mr. Pym was to be requested to set some watch over Jim Spedwick's movements. For fully a week Pym did not put in appearance at Dingle Hall. He was ashamed of the marks on his face,—marks left there by his rival's horsewhip. Moreover, he found that this incident of the horsewhipping, which was being freely discussed, had placed him in a very awkward position. It was repeatedly asked whether he was going to submit tamely to such an outrage. It was urged that as a gentleman of high standing his honour would be severely compromised if he did not take some action. But what action could he take? he asked. He had no legal remedy; of course he could retaliate by horsewhipping his opponent, but it was obvious that would not terminate the dispute, and it might make matters very much worse. Jim Spedwick had shown himself to be a fighting man.

There was one adviser who was very emphatic in his opinion as to the proper course to be pursued. That one was 'Mr. Ralph Tinker, the attorney's clerk. Since the night of the alleged cheating at cards Tinker had had several interviews with the Hon. Randolph Pym, and seemed to be very proud indeed of the connexion he had thus formed. Pym did not hesitate to consort with this young man, whose reputation in the town was not of the best, for his own purposes, and the chief of them was to utilize him as a spy on Jim. It was not very creditable to the Hon. Randolph Pym, but he was prepared to go to great lengths if he could, not only disgrace but ruin his rival, or anyway drive him out of the country. Something had to be done if Jim was to be rendered powerless.

Ralph Tinker, who had more than a little of the cunning of the serpent in him, and whose knowledge of the law, and some ability in argument, made him doubly dangerous, ventured to give his patron advice.

"You see you can't afford to ignore this fellow," he said. "Jim Spedwick is a determined chap, and having thrashed you once, he may thrash you again. Anyway he can make things very disagreeable; you ought to settle him, or the chances are he will run off with Miss Lacey.

"But how?"

"Call him out. Now take my advice and call him out."

"But he's not my social equal."

"Fudge! What does that matter? He's committed an outrage on you. Send him a challenge; choose pistols as the weapons and shoot him dead. As it is now you are playing into his hands."

"But—" gasped Pym.

"I know your objection—the law. It's a serious matter to kill a man even in fair duel. Leave it to me, however. Even the law can be hoodwinked. I'll prove that your rival had registered a vow to kill you either by fair means or foul. That you had no alternative but to defend yourself, and it was your life against his. We can bring plenty of influence to bear in your favour; at the worst you would probably get off with a fine, and your rival would be dead. Dead men tell no tales; dead men do not come back to horsewhip us and to annoy us with their rivalry for the hand of the same lady. You understand! It's no use demurring on points of etiquette when you are in imminent danger."

This subtle reasoning produced effect on the listener. Pym knew that he had to deal with an obstinate young lady and a determined young man. The danger to his peace of mind and the prospects of their marriage, so long as Jim Spedwick remained in Ministerfield, was too obvious to be overlooked. The Spedwicks were people of some importance in their way and could not be ignored. The Hon. Randolph Pym was a gentleman who had lived hitherto entirely for himself. Pure selfishness dominated all his actions. His family were noted for the keenness with which they studied their own interests. They were an old county family, but no philanthropic movement or act could be placed to their credit. Sir Yardley Pym did not like to be worried about anything. His chief concern in life was what he should eat and drink. He was a martyr to gout, and that made him very irritable. Coming from such a stock and indoctrinated with narrow, cramped views, young Pym seemed to think that nothing should be tolerated that interfered with his aims and desires. Then again his vanity was excessive, and Jim Spedwick had wounded that vanity by publicly horsewhipping him. His physical hurt was small, but his feelings were lacerated to a degree that was almost unendurable, and after the manner of all small-minded people he thirsted for vengeance; but how was he to obtain it? He shrank from taking risks. But the way that society was constituted in the little community of Ministerfield did not leave him much choice. If a gentleman considered that he had been insulted by another gentleman, the custom in vogue at the time enabled him to challenge him to a more or less deadly encounter; but in this instance the Hon. Randolph Pym took his stand upon the fine point of social dignity. He was pleased to think that Jim was very far beneath him. Nevertheless Jim was a force to be reckoned with. Jim knew bow to protect himself, and his courage could not be questioned. Under all the circumstances, therefore, Mr. Pym was susceptible to subtle suggestion that had for its object the rendering of Jim Spedwick impotent for mischief. The tempter Tinker had said—

"You can't afford to ignore this fellow."

The Hon Randolph Pym could not be altogether obdurate against the cogency of that premise; the question was, "How could he deal with him?" Ralph Tinker furnished the answer, "Dead men tell no tales, dead men do not come back to horsewhip us," he had said.

Of course if two men pitted themselves against each other in a contest for supremacy, the best man would win, that is to say if he had fairplay. If the Hon. Randolph Pym endeavoured to avenge his outraged honour by challenging Jim Spedwick to mortal combat, and Jim Spedwick should prove the better man, it would be awkward for the challenger. This possible contingency gave Mr. Pym pause, and he discussed the point with Ralph Tinker whom he had come to regard as a mentor and instrument of considerable importance.

"Of course," said Tinker, "if you meet your rival on equal terms the fortune of the fight might go against you. In fact, from what I know of Jim Spedwick I would back his chances. He's a dead shot. You see, he's had a lot of practice. But you must arrange it so that the odds are in your favour."

"How?" asked the Hon. Randolph Pym eagerly, and with an increasing interest.

"The information has a value, sir," answered Tinker. Mr. Ralph Tinker was an attorney's clerk, and did not give advice for nothing.

"I am prepared to recognize that," said Pym, "and you may rely on my not underrating the value. But I am anxious to know how you propose to deal with Spedwick?"

"You see, I am still friendly with him up to a point, although he has abused me. But he does not dream that I have played into your hands. When you send your challenge I will offer my services to him. Then I will arrange matters that he shall be absolutely at your mercy."

"By what process do you hope to accomplish that?"

"By taking care that he has no bullets in his pistol," replied the subtle Mr. Tinker, rubbing his hands one about the other, and glancing furtively at the hon. gentleman whom he was addressing. And the hon. gentleman's nature responded quickly to the dangerous influence that was thus being exercised. "Dead men tell no tales, and dead men do not come back to horsewhip us," rang through his brain. Mr. Pym, being inflated with his own pride and sense of self-importance, felt that the little world in which he and Jim Spedwick lived, moved and had their being was all too small for both of them. Jim's shadow eclipsed him. One of the two must give way. Mr. Pym being the son of a baronet was a luminary whose light must not be dimmed by a plebeian like Jim Spedwick. By courtesy, Mr. Pym was justified in prefixing Hon. to his name; but his sense of honour was easily deadened when his interests and his pride were at stake. At first he did waver a little with respect to Ralph Tinker's suggestion. If he met a man who by a conspiracy had been rendered impotent to do harm, and taking advantage of that fact, he shot him dead, there was one term, and one term only, that could be applied to the deed, that term was MURDER.

A bad and very ugly sound had murder, and it startled the Hon. Randolph, thus causing him to waver, until he heard that Jim had written to Norah; that Norah had answered his letter; and when taken to task by her parents, she had defied them, and declared that she would adhere to Jim.

This information braced Mr. Pym to a degree of firmness and he wavered no longer. He sent an urgent message to Ralph Tinker that he wished to see him, and when he came he said—

"Tinker, I have decided to send a challenge to Jim Spedwick."

Mr. Ralph Tinker, the attorney's clerk, chuckled.

"If Mr. Spedwick accepts," answered Ralph Tinker in a low tone in which was a sinister, minatory ring, "then Mr. Spedwick's days in the land are numbered."

The Hon. Randolph Pym was very uneasy. His conscience troubled him, but he had travelled so far on the road of wrongdoing that he felt impelled, by the evil influences to which he so readily yielded, to proceed further, in order, as he hoped, to render his position thoroughly secure. Therefore, conscience must be stilled in some way, for the stake he was playing was a large one. And either he must confess defeat, or win—win a all hazards and at any cost. It was a very dangerous game, but he was so far committed to it that he must continue it to the bitter end.