Читать книгу A Novel Without a Name - William Aubrey Burnage - Страница 9

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'Is Mr. Grey at 'ome, mum?'

The speaker was a gentlemanly dressed individual; but wearing with his silk hat and frock coat, an indescribable air, that proclaimed him rather more of the snob species, Mr. Grey himself alighted from a cab at the moment, and reached the steps before he recognised the individual, who was enquiring for him.

'Did'nt expect to see me, I should say from the way you are staring at me.'

'I! No I did not Rugby! Lawrence show Mr. Rugby into the library!'

The porter led Mr. Rugby into the library; and Mr. Grey hastened to his room to avoid his wife. He met his daughter at the top of the stairs. 'Why, papa you look quite ill!' she exclaimed anxiously. 'You are as pale as death!'

'Nonsense Janet! I have been walking fast, that's all!' and to cut short further conversation, he entered his room and closed the door.

'Papa does look very ill. I hope nothing serious is the matter with him,' said Janet to herself, as she descended the stairs to the back parlour to practice.

Mr. Grey started as he caught sight of his face in the mirror. 'This will not do. I must take something to hide my agitation,' and taking a flask of brandy from his breast pocket, he drank a draught of that soul-destroying liquid.

'Ah, now I feel like myself again! I must go down and meet that vulture first or last; so I may as well go at once. Little thought I three months ago, that I should ever have to swallow brandy to give me courage to meet a fellow man!'

'I'm afraid I'm an unwelcome visitor!' Mr. Rugby said smiling, as he looked up from stirring the fire. But I can't help it, you know.'

'Take a seat!'

After complying with the request, Mr. Rugby opened his pocket-book and drew out several papers. 'You see, sir, that Sir Jonas Cadman is hard pressed, and is compelled to get his money in; and he cannot wait any longer. These bills for £3,000 are overdue, and he wants them settled.'

'He has ruined me by that cursed company he's director of. Every penny I had has been swallowed up through his damned roguery.'

'Say misfortune—damned misfortune, if you like—but not roguery,' expostulated Mr. Rugby, mildly.

'And now he wants to insult and degrade me by an action to recover monies that he knows I could have paid but for his swindling my fortune into his company.'

'You can't pay it!'

'You know I can't!'

'Then we must get a writ of ca re and arrest you. I know some one who is open to take an affidavit you intend selling off and going to America.'

Mr. Grey turned a shade paler at Mr. Rugby's threat, and he exclaimed, 'A writ of ca re? Surely Sir Jonas would not take away my liberty, as well as my fortune! He has irretrievibly ruined me; will that not satisfy him?'

'It's no use talking such sentimental rubbish as that, Mr. Grey! This is a simple matter of business. You owe Sir Jonas Cadman a large sum of money; you can't pay it, and you are scarcely fool enough to think 'e'll be put off without some satisfaction. Can you get anyone to become surety for you? All Sir James wants is 'is money. Some arrangement might be made for time, if you could get someone to endorse your bills.'

'Someone to endorse my bills!' Mr. Grey repeated, dreamily. 'Perhaps I could.'

'Yes! That would save all unpleasantness. There's your brother-in-law, Squire Wilton. 'Is name's as good as money.'

'Perhaps I might be able to meet the bills in a year!' replied Mr. Grey, reflecting for a moment.

'And, if you couldn't, what odds!' pursued the dun, laughing a low, grating chuckle, 'Squire Wilton's well able to lose it. I'm told 'e's the richest man in Essex. No, that's the way out of the fix. I'll give you till to-morrow to get the bills endorced; so get the thing settled at once.'

'What time to-morrow may I expect you?'

'O, about three o'clock.'

'Then, as the matter is arranged so far, I will wish you good morning!' said Mr. Grey, rising.

'You're sure you can get the bills endorced?'

'You give me till to-morrow; and at three o'clock you shall learn the amount of my success. Give my compliments to Sir Jonas, and tell him that, as I cannot expect any other treatment from one of his class, I forgive him. Every brute must follow the dictates of its instinct.'

'I don't understand you, Mr. Gray. I was never much good at riddling; so I give it up: but, talking of business, mind, the bills, or I must arrest you to-morrow.'

'I'll forgive you too, if you can arrest me to-morrow!' returned the ruined man, with a bitter smile, 'but, till then, adieu!' and turning abruptly, he hurried from the room.

'Rather an unceremonious retreat!' Mr. Rugby muttered to himself, as he buttoned up his coat; 'but it don't matter much, so long as he gets the bills. I can afford to submit to a slight, if I can nab the collector's percentage.'

In the hall Mr. Rugby encountered Mrs. Grey, who was just going out shopping. 'I've been to see your husband upon money matters, mum; and if 'e don't come to terms, you will lose 'im, as we're going to imprison 'im till 'e does pay; and, if 'e don't dub up till the day of judgment, why 'e'll 'ave the longer to consider about it!' the fellow said, with a brutal delight in inflicting pain.

Mrs. Grey turned her white, scared face to him. 'What! Imprison my husband for debt? Oh, you cannot, you cannot mean that!'

'Can't we, though! Well, mum, my presentiment is that we can; and that you will see if you live another twenty-four hours!'

Mrs. Grey turned from the heartless scoundrel, and hurried up-stairs to her husband's private room.

Mr. Rugby had been bowing himself out while speaking, and as he finished the cruel threat, reached the edge of the top door step, but with his back to it. His words, and the agonized expression of Mrs. Grey's features, so exasperated the porter, who, aware of his master's changed fortunes, understood the agent's meaning, that he sprang forward, and striking the fellow in the mouth, sent him reeling down the steps, across the pavement and into the muddy gutter. Rugby staggered to his feet amidst the jeers of a crowd of small boys, leaped into a passing cab, and after swearing vengeance against all laughing arabs in general, and Mr. Grey and his family in particular, ordered the cabman to drive him to his lodgings.

'Damn him! I'm duced sorry I didn't break his neck!' soliloquised the porter, while closing the door. 'I say, Susan,' he continued to a maidservant, who, at the moment entered the hall. 'The missis has just rushed up-stairs in an awful state of mind. I think you had better follow her; or she may fall down in a faint!'

'I expect we'll all get notice in a day or two, James; for the house-keeper says the master hasn't a sixpence left to bless himself. Ah, well, I am sorry; that I am. We mightn't get another place half so——'

'Don't stop chattering here, girl! Run up to the missis! She's ill, I tell you!'

At this moment a piercing shriek, and a heavy thud upon the floor above, cut short further discussion, and both domestics rushed up-stairs.

'The noise was in the back parlour, James.'

'No it wasn't, it was in the master's own room. I heard the fall quite plain!'

'No it wasn't, it was in the back par——- Oh, gracious, what is this on my foot! Look, there a is dark stream running out under master's door!' cried Susan, in dismay.

'Blood!' exclaimed the porter with horror, and dashing open the door, he sprang into the room, closely followed by the shuddering maidservant, when a fearful scene met their view. Upon the floor lay the body of their master in a pool of blood, and across it the insensible form of his wife.

The maidservant turned to flee from the horrible sight; but the porter stepped between her and the door. 'Don't let a sound out of you, screaming can't do any good. This is no fit place for Miss Janet; and if you scream she might hear you, when she stops playing to turn over the leaves. Just slip across the street to Dr. Fulton's, while I go down and fetch the house-keeper.'

The girl, trembling with horror, did as she was bidden, and in a few minutes the doctor, who, fortunately happened to be in, reached the scene of the tragedy, and was soon surrounded by the clumsy, but willing servants, all eager to render assistance.

Mrs. Grey was carried to another room, where under the skilful care of the house-keeper she was soon brought back to the dreadful reality of her husband's position. 'Let me go to him!' she pleaded, as soon as she had sufficiently recovered from her swoon to be able to rise from the couch, 'I must, I will go!'

The door was slowly opened, and Dr. Fulton entered. 'You have restored her, I see!' he whispered to the house-keeper, on observing that Mrs. Grey was sitting up; and turning to the lady he continued. 'He is not dead, madam; so take hope.'

'Not dead? Thank God! But let me go to him!'

'If you do, I will not answer for consequences. There is so little life left, that the slightest agitation will kill him. Wait quietly till to-morrow; he may be stronger then.'

'Is it dangerous for him to see me?' Mrs. Grey asked mournfully.

'It would be death for him to see and recognise anybody. Take this composing draught, and try to get to sleep. You may have to nurse him for a month or two, and so you must brace yourself up for the occasion.'

Mrs. Grey swallowed the draught; and the doctor left her, and returned to the other patient.

'Who is that playing the piano?' he enquired of the porter, who was watching by his master's bedside.

'Miss Janet, sir.'

'And she doesn't know?'

'No, sir; I thought it best not to call her!'

'Good! Give this stimulant to Mr. Grey every twenty minutes; and send for me if he seems to get lower. I will go down and break the dreadful news to Miss Janet, myself.'

'Will this bottle be enough, sir, to last all night?'

'No; but I shall be over again at six o'clock, if I'm not called before. Watch the clock, and do not fail to give him two tablespoons of this three times every hour.'

'No, sir!'

The doctor left the patient in charge of his faithful attendant, and descended to the room from which proceeded the flow of opera music, which Janet was practising. The young lady not noticing his rap he gently pushed the door open, and entered the room.

'I hope I don't intrude! as Paul Pry would say!' he said smiling, and holding out his hand.

Janet looked up in surprise. 'How do you do, Doctor Fulton? You really gave me quite a start. I did not see you come in!'

'No, your music quite drowned my rap at the door, so I took French leave, and entered without invitation.'

Dr. Fulton tried to look unconcerned; but the attempt was a failure, and his voice trembled a little as he asked a few common-place questions about Janet's music.

'I hope nothing is the matter, Dr. Fulton. You seem so strange, and keep looking at me so sorrowfully. It is true that we are poor now; but I am sure God will not desert us, and I can earn nearly enough at teaching music to keep us all, if papa will only give up this big house and the servants, and take a little cottage.'

'You are a brave girl, Miss Janet—a very brave girl; but are you sure you can get any pupils.'

'Oh yes! My music master says I am quite competent to take junior pupils; and he can recommend me, you know,' Janet replied, with proud self-reliance.

'But you are so young to have to begin the struggle of life.'

'I will be fifteen in a month!'

'And you are really ready and willing to make all the sacrifice necessary to success as a music teacher—to submit to all the toil and disappointments inseparable from such a position?'

'For my dear parents' sakes I am!' and the resolute girl's eyes sparkled with hope and determination as she spoke.

Dr. Fulton took a turn or two in the room, and then stopping before Janet he laid his hand upon her shoulder and said kindly, 'Well, my dear, your patience and courage are to be tested earlier than you expected. I have some very bad news to tell you.'

The color fled from Janet's face in an instant, and, rising, from the music stool, she exclaimed, 'Oh, what has happened! Is anyone ill?'

'Your papa is alive, and if he is kept very quiet may recover. He met with an accident just now; but with care will probably soon get well again.'

'Is the accident very serious, sir?' Janet asked, after a moment's pause.

'That's a brave girl! I was afraid you would begin to wring your hands and cry, instead of calmly looking the trouble in the face. The accident is very serious, I am sorry to say; but I shall trust to you to conceal your grief; and nurse him carefully, as his chance of recovery depends entirely upon the care taken of him.'

'Chance of recovery! Is he so bad as that?'

Janet's face was as pale as the neat linen collar around her white throat, and her lips trembled as she spoke; but her habitual self-possession did not forsake her, and she bravely held her feelings in check.

'Yes, my child, he is very bad; and your mamma is so overpowered by the misfortune, that I cannot afford to allow you any time for lamenting. I want you to act, not cry. Recollect, I leave your father entirely in your hands.'

'Making a fuss cannot do any good certainly, but it will be hard to see papa in pain, and not to cry about it. Where——'

'Before I forget it,' said the doctor, interrupting her, 'I have left some medicine to be given to your papa every twenty minutes. You will see that he gets it.'

'Most certainly, sir! And mamma?'

'O, there's nothing particular the matter with her. She fainted when she learnt of the accident, but——'

'Fainted?' Janet asked in great alarm.

'Yes. But she has recovered, and will be all right again after an hour or two's sleep,' replied the doctor hopefully.

'But it isn't more than ten minutes' since I met papa on the stairs. What can have happened in that short time,' asked Janet, closing the piano, and turning to leave the room.

Dr. Fulton put his back to the door, 'You had better learn all before you go up-stairs.'

Janet dropped into a seat, and fixed her large dark eyes upon him in increasing alarm.

'Of course you know your papa's altered circumstances. Well, it seems to me that his misfortunes have so preyed upon his mind that he has attempted to—that he has in fact tried to commit suicide.'

Janet sprang to her feet in horror and dismay. 'Oh, papa! My poor, poor papal!' she cried wildly.

'Don't forget that outward expression of grief can do him no good; and recollect that I shall trust to you to nurse him, and that his chance of recovery will rest entirely upon the care with which he is nursed!'

'And he may never get well again!' she cried, in a voice tremulous with grief and fear.

'That is in God's hands, not ours! We will do our best, and leave the issue with Him. It is not impossible that your papa may live. Are you ready to appear in the sick room without a trace of feeling in your face or manner? You must appear as unconcerned, as if you were attending upon a stranger. I would send a hired nurse; but I think you and I can manage; and should all come right in the end, it may be possible to hush the matter up. No one but the servants know yet, and they might keep the secret, if you begged them to. You know it is against the law for anyone to attempt to destroy himself.'

'I will speak to them at once? May I go to papa now?' she asked eagerly.

'Go and get a glass of wine and a biscuit first. The room shall be ready for you in ten minutes. I will be back at six o'clock to dress the wound.'

'The wound?' cried Janet, with a shudder.

'Yes. Your papa stabbed himself. I will see to that myself. What you have to do is to see to his getting the medicine every twenty minutes. Now go and get the wine. I will see you up-stairs directly,' said the doctor, turning to leave the room.

In a few minutes Janet followed him, and took a seat by the bedside of her father, who was unconscious from loss of blood.

'His life in a great measure is in your hands,' said the doctor, when leaving, 'for nursing will do more than physic. Be a brave girl, and don't forget' [here he took up the bottle of stimulant] 'once every twenty minutes.'