Читать книгу A Novel Without a Name - William Aubrey Burnage - Страница 12

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Sir Jonas Cadman sat alone over a late breakfast. His hopeful son, Toby, had returned to school, and the breakfast-room was as silent as before the holidays; for Sir Jonas, since the death of his wife, allowed no one else in the room during the breakfast hour. The old man had become a victim to the habit of thinking aloud; and his meditations at breakfast time being generally upon the business programme of the day, he had often very grave reasons for wishing to be alone.

Sir Jonas was more than usually jubilant this morning, and his gloomy, bald head and round, beardless face shone more than usually unctuous as he sat over the small grate of sea-coal, alternately rubbing his shrivelled hands together and toasting them at the fire. 'The United Investment and Life Assurance Company, Unlimited Liability, was a capital idea—a capital idea—A clear profit of eighteen thousand pounds. When I get it fully wound up I must float another. Ha, ha, ha! Not take up one of the shares? No, no! Unlimited Liability! Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha! Doesn't do to float an Unlimited Liability Company and hold your own scrip! No, no! Doesn't do! Doesn't do!'

A footman appearing at the door, the old man's merriment instantly subsided: and he turned to the domestic, 'Well, what now?'

'A young lady wishes to see you, Sir Jonas!'

'A young lady?'

'Yes, Sir Jonas!'

'Who is she, dolt? Didn't you enquire her name?'

'I asked her who she was; but she would not say. She said she must see you, Sir Jonas!'

'Must see me!' Sir Jonas repeated to himself, thinking aloud—'Must see me! Some mad girl come to invest a legacy, I shouldn't wonder,' Then, noticing the footman watching him attentively, he roared, 'Show her up, you numskull. What are you standing there gaping at?'

'She'll soon see the last of her legacy, if she invests it with you, old Grab All!' the footman muttered, as he turned away to show the lady in.

'It was a lucky day when I gave over the chandler trade, and turned my attention to statistics,' the old man said gleefully, still rubbing and toasting his hands. 'Nothing coins money so fast as Investment Societies or Unlimited Liability Life Assurances—Ah! here she is!'

The footman threw the door open; and a young lady entered, in a warm walking dress. Sir Jonas rose courteously and offered his visitor a seat, saying in his blandest manner as he did so, 'Called to see me on business, and thought the walk into the city too far, I presume, Miss. There is no other office in London that offers such peculiar inducements to investors, or to persons anxious to provide for a rainy day by insuring their lives.'

The young lady, a mere child in her petite figure and delicate features, threw back her veil, and clasping her hands exclaimed in a low voice. 'Oh, Sir Jonas Cadman, do not make my dear father a prisoner when he gets well. The disgrace would kill him!'

'Don't make your father a prisoner? I don't understand you! Who is your father?' the old man asked in surprise.

'Papa's name is Mr. Grey. He owes you a lot of money, and your agent said you intended to arrest him and put him in the Marshalsea. Oh, do not be so cruel! Papa may be able to pay you some day.'

'Mr. Grey! Yes, he does owe me a lot of money—£3000, or thereabout. When will he be able to pay me, if I give him time, do you think? Mr. Rugby said he promised to get some friend to become surety for him.'

There did not seem much prospect of mercy in the cold, hard face before her, or the dry, harsh voice; and the poor girl fairly broke down for a moment.

'Come, come, don't cry! If there's one thing I hate more than another in this world, it is seeing a woman cry. About the endorsed bills. Can you father get anyone, whose name is worth anything, to back them?'

'No sir. I am sure papa will never entangle any one else in his own ruin. But he might be able to pay it all in time, if you do not arrest him.'

'Might!' repeated the usurer, with a cold sneer, that went through the pleading girl's heart like a note of despair.

'Oh, do not imprison papa. It would kill him! I will work my fingers off to save him!' Janet exclaimed excitedly. 'I will do anything to save papa from that disgrace.'

Sir Jonas Cadman hobbled up and down the room two or three turns, then went to the window, looked out, and returned to his seat. It was evident from his excited manner that some new idea had struck him.

'What is your name?' he asked abruptly.

'Janet Grey, sir.'

'O, I recollect. You are the daughter of Mr. Grey, who owes me £3,000!' Sir Jonas said laying a menacing stress on the amount.

'Yes, sir!' replied Janet, glancing timidly into the old man's face to read the first sign of relenting that might appear in that staid index to his thoughts. But the strange expression she met there made her turn her eyes to the floor.

'Now listen, Janet—that's your name I think you said—£3,000 is a lot of money to lose, more in fact than I can afford to; but I might agree to give your father that on certain conditions.'

'O thank you! thank you!' the delighted girl exclaimed joyfully.

'And the conditions are,' Sir Jonas happening to catch Janet's earnest gaze turned uneasily away, 'the conditions are: first, that your father shall come and live here; and, secondly, that you will marry me, my pretty one!'

Janet rose from her seat in sorrow.

'Now, think before you speak, little one, £3000 is more than I can afford to lose; but I feel lonely here sometimes now that my boy Toby is at school. Marry me, and I will give your papa a clear receipt.'

'How dare you speak to me like this, Sir Jonas!' the startled girl exclaimed angrily, her eyes flashing in scorn and surprise. 'I will tell papa of your rudeness directly I get home!'

Sir Jonas laughed heartily for a few minutes at the young girl's anger; then suddenly chaffing himself he said, 'By Jove, you do look handsome when you fire up like that! But about telling your father, he will have plenty of time to listen to you in the debtor's prison.'

Janet's proud head drooped in an instant. The old man's tone denied her the hope that any pleading could soften him, and her heart sank within her.

'I dare say, pretty one, that you are a little surprised at my offer, especially as, not having ever seen you before, I have not had the chance of falling in love with you; but the truth is that I made up my mind a month or more ago to marry again; and as you have a pretty face, a bright eye, and a sweet voice, I don't mind taking you. And then again it would be a charity to as it would keep your father out of the Marshalsea. Come now, say the word. Will you marry me?'

Janet stood gazing into the fire in the deepest distress. To say "Yes" she could not, and to refuse would be to sign her father's warrant to prison.

'Perhaps you think you are too young, pretty one. I'm not so old, but I can wait a couple of years. Promise to marry me when you are seventeen, and I will forgive your father the debt.'

For a moment the young girl felt inclined to promise. Her seventeenth birthday seemed so far away in the dim future, that no immediate danger appeared to menace her by promising, yet she hesitated.

'No answer! Perhaps you are considering the proposal. Well, I don't want to hurry you. I will give you a week to decide. If you agree to marry me I will give your father a clear receipt; and if you refuse he shall rot in the debtors' prison or pay me in full.'

Janet shuddered at the terrible alternative, but recollecting Dr. Fulton's promise to help her conceal her father away in the country, she recognised the necessity for gaining time; and turning to the old man she said in a low whisper, which he took for coy reserve, but which was really occasioned by the great effort it cost her to prevaricate, 'Thank you, sir, for the kind offer, I will tell you in a week whether I can accept it.'

'That's a good girl. Will you take a glass of wine before going out in the cold again?'

'No, thank you! I want to get back home at once,' she replied uneasily.

On her way home a strange and unaccountable weight seemed to lay upon her heart; and she felt so low-spirited that she could scarcely repress her tears. The nearer she came to her unhappy home the greater the weight, and the more irresistible the inclination to give way to a burst of weeping.

On the stairs she met the doctor, who had consented to take Dr. Fulton's place during his absence. Without waiting for an introduction Dr. Webster accosted her with 'You are Miss Grey, I believe. Do you know where the medicine is that Dr. Fulton left for your father?'

'On the side table near the bed, sir,' Janet replied anxiously. His abrupt manner filled her with undefined terror.

'Come this way and show me, Miss. There is some strange mistake somewhere.' Janet followed him into the room in silence.