Quincunx

  “This is absurd. You don’t surely imagine that a man in Pamplin’s position would involve himself …”

  “I don’t know. I think I could suspect him of anything, for all he is a clergyman. (I know more about him than you think.) And yet I believe you duped him as much as me. Yes, I see it now, you wanted him there precisely because he would be an unimpeachable witness to my abduction and your resistance to it in case it ever came to light.”

  As if he had for once no answer to this, he turned his head away.

  “I think I understand it now. You sold me and the will to Silas Clothier, though I don’t know how you knew how to find him. But you also intended to cheat him as much as you betrayed me and so you made that forgery. And once I was dead and he expected to claim the estate under the codicil, then I imagine that you intended to go to the Mompessons and tell them you had the will. Or rather, that you represented someone who had it. And in that situation they would have given you almost anything to have it back.”

  “You’re very clever,” he said and I took his remark as sarcastic.

  “No, what you mean is that I’ve been a complete fool. But I believe I understand now. There is more. You betray anyone who trusts you if there’s an advantage to be got from it. Poor Stephen trusted you and I’d stake my life that you betrayed him, though I don’t understand how or why. But when you urged him to deliver himself into the power of his aunt who sent him to that wicked place to be done away with, I’ll wager you did so for a reward. And by doing that you helped to murder him. Why, that’s why you were so poor the first time I came to you and so much more prosperous the next time!”

  He stared at me without smiling but did not make any effort to answer my charge.

  “But when it was Silas Clothier who died that night instead of I, you were taken by surprise,” I continued. “How dumbfoundered you were to see me again! Your scheme was in ruins, for since I was still alive the Mompessons were not in the grave danger you had hoped for. That is why you wanted me to remain hidden so that I could join you in blackmailing them.”

  “Hardly that,” he protested gently. “Let us say, ‘arriving at a composition advantageous to both parties’. But it was clumsy of me to have suggested it. I hadn’t realized what high principles you have. And yet since they apparently permit you to burgle a house and steal the property of another, perhaps it was pardonable in me not to appreciate this.”

  I flushed: “I believe there is a difference. I thought I had a moral right to the inheritance even if I had to steal the will back. But I don’t see any need to justify my actions to you.”

  “Just don’t be so ready to accuse me. Now, on that basis, let us be perfectly frank with one another. Will you hear what I have to say?”

  “I will at least hear it. Be quick.”

  “I am no longer interested in the Mompessons. I have a much better proposal. I was delighted to hear you say just now that you have a moral right to the will, for I am offering it to you.”

  “To me? I have nothing to pay you with, and I don’t imagine you are offering it as a gift.”

  “You would not make a good man of business. Only consider for a moment. Who else derives any advantage from the will? Not the Mompessons for while you are alive, they can make no use of it. If they laid it before the Court you could come forward and claim the estate. In order for it to be of any value to them, they would have to know that you were dead and then marry that mad girl to the half-wit.”

  I shuddered for I had not considered the implications of the re-discovery of the will as they affected Henrietta. Perhaps she was no longer safe from a forced marriage, as I had believed. But how did Henry know so much about the Mompessons?

  “You are the one who stands to gain the most,” he went on. “For you would go from beggary to opulence.”

  “Then what do you want from me?” I asked.

  “I want you to agree to convey to me a third share in the property.”

  “A third share!” I exclaimed. Then I added: “Have you not forgotten one thing? I am not yet of age and therefore have no power either to alienate any real property I may possess or to bind myself to do so in the future.”

  “My dear fellow, you seem to forget that I am a Chancery lawyer. Of course I have considered that. All I want from you at this stage is your consent. I will retain possession of the will but I will file a bill on your behalf — acting through a third-party, of course, in order to conceal my role — serving notice to the Court that the succession of the Maliphant claimant under the codicil is objected to. There will be no difficulty in drawing out this process until you are of age and can then execute a bond by which you will bind yourself to the conveyance of the property in my favour.”

  “I merely asked from curiosity,” I said. “For the bargain itself, I can give you your answer now. You inferred from what I said a moment ago that I believe I have a right to the will and therefore to the estate, but if you had attended to my words more carefully you would have heard that what I said was that I once believed that. I believe so no longer, and I assure you that I will never consent to what you propose.”

  He was clearly surprised and, from the way his face darkened, very angry.

  “You’re mad,” he exclaimed. “If you agree to this you will inherit vast wealth. But if you refuse …”

  “As I will, I assure you,” I broke in.

  “Then you leave me with only two choices. Either I can sell the will back to Sir David.”

  Then Henrietta would once again be forced into marriage with Tom!

  “Or, on the other hand,” he continued, “I can offer it to the Maliphant heir who will, of course, destroy it and with it your chance of ever inheriting the estate.”

  “I tell you, I do not care.”

  “No? But you forget that in both cases the other party needs your death, the Mompessons so that that girl inherits and the Maliphant claimant in order to inherit under the codicil.”

  From the way he looked at me I knew precisely what he was threatening.

  “So there is your choice: on the one hand, wealth and safety; on the other, poverty and … at the least, danger.”

  His words strangely recalled the choice offered me by my mother many years before, but now the terms were much more starkly opposed for it was not wealth and danger against poverty and safety, but a choice that presented itself quite unequivocally to self-interest. And, though Henry did not know it, the choice was all the starker because of Henrietta. In rejecting wealth and safety I was also condemning her to marriage with Tom. And yet I did not hesitate.

  “I have given you my answer,” I said. “And I assure you that I will never change my mind. Once I was prepared to go to almost any lengths to gain that estate for I believed that I had Justice on my side. But I did wrong and brought harm and unhappiness to myself and, what is more important, to others.”

  I believe that until I spoke these words he had thought that my refusal was merely a bargaining ploy, but now he realized that I meant what I said.

  “You believe that merely because harm to other people came of your actions, that proves that you did not have Justice on your side?” he said mockingly. “What a naive view of the world. You think there are rewards for Justice and punishments for doing wrong?”

  “You have misunderstood me again. I still believe I had Justice on my side, but what I have learned is that I have no right to Justice. Society itself is unjust.”

  “You talk so easily of Justice and Injustice,” he suddenly cried with extraordinary venom. “What do you know of those things? What right have you, a Huffam and a Clothier, to talk of Justice when your two families — and the damned Mompessons — have done so much wrong to mine?”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked in amazement.

  “I have as much right to a share of the estate as you. If my great-grandfather had received his due …”

  He broke off as if suddenly realizing that he had said too much and sat for some moments mak
ing an effort to compose himself again.

  A right to a share of the estate? Did he then have some kind of connexion with my family?

  He stood up and said: “If you change your mind, you know where to find me. We have a short while, since the time-limit does not expire for a little longer.”

  “I have given you my reply,” I said.

  “In that case, you must abide by the consequences,” he said and left the room.

  I sat down to consider the implications of what I had learned. First I tried to work out who the Maliphant claimant could be and how it was that Henry knew his identity. My own connexion with him came through Stephen Maliphant. Had Stephen been sent to the school to die because he was the heir? In that case was the claimant Stephen’s aunt or someone closely connected with her? If that assumption were correct, then was Henry himself related to the claimant? Was he himself, even, the Maliphant claimant? His proposal was hardly consistent with that, for in that case he would surely have destroyed the will. (Unless he was playing his hand even more deviously than I understood.) Yet his reference to his own family’s rights suggested that he had some blood-connexion with me. Was he related to one of the five families descended from Henry Huffam: the Huffams, the Mompessons, the Clothiers, the Palphramonds, and the Maliphants? Where then did he fit in the pattern?

  The evening advanced without my noticing until I found myself in absolute darkness and had to find a lucifer. Only then did I realize that Joey had not arrived as had been agreed, and in my present state of mind this was further reason for disquiet. My visiter had made me so restless that I could not think of staying idly indoors and so, putting on my great-coat and hat, I stepped out with the intention of walking to Mrs Digweed’s cottage to see what had become of Joey.

  I had only gone half the length of Church-lane towards the Strand when I heard a rapid step behind me. Before I had time even to be afraid, I was flung head foremost against the wall and pinned by a powerful grip. The blow to my head stunned me and a wave of nausea rose within me. Then a face was thrust close to mine and a harsh voice came out of the darkness:

  “Well, ain’t this a pleasant surprise! And there was I a-thinking as you was dead and gorn. Wasn’t I glad to hear as how it wasn’t true! I thought I’d come and see for meself. And I am pleased. On’y it quite shakes a cove’s respeck for the public prints, don’t it?” He pulled something from his belt. “I reckon I should prove ’em right, arter all. And the beauty of it is I can’t be lagged for it for you’re dead already.”

  I knew there was no point in struggling nor in crying out in that lonely place. My only chance lay in an appeal to self-interest. But on what grounds? On whose behalf was Barney doing this? Surely not Daniel Porteous’ for now that old Clothier was dead my death was of no benefit to his heirs. Was he getting revenge against me on his own behalf? In that event I was lost. But there was another possibility.

  “Sancious put you up to this, didn’t he?” I cried.

  Even as I said it, I had no idea what the attorney’s motives could be. But whatever they were, they must be based on a mistaken assumption. And so I played the one card I had:

  “But he doesn’t know that the will still exists! It wasn’t destroyed any more than I was! Tell him that!”

  Barney wrenched me round to face him and stared at me thoughtfully, breathing heavily and stroking the blade of his knife with his thumb.

  “This is a bubble,” he said at last.

  “If you kill me now Sancious won’t profit. Only the Mompessons. Do you want that?”

  This was inspired, for I recalled his brother telling me that he had a grudge against them over payment for some work.

  He stared at me for the longest moment of my life, then he suddenly pushed me from him and rapidly made off.

  I hurried on towards the Strand and only felt safe once I was among the crowds and the street-lamps.

  Why should Sancious want my death? Who could he be working for? That remained a puzzle, but suddenly I both understood how Barney had known where to find me and knew why Joey had not come that afternoon! He had sold me to his uncle. I found my eyes watering and realized that I was close to tears. I had come to have faith in him after a long period of suspicion, and just when I had in effect entrusted my life to him he had betrayed me. Something was running down my face. I realized that it was not tears but blood, for now that I was more collected I found that I had a cut on my forehead that was bleeding profusely. My head throbbed and I felt weak and dizzy. Where could I go now? I had nowhere. Only my dismal lodgings and they were now dangerous. Yet I had no choice. With a heavy heart I hastened home, sneaked up the stairs avoiding my landlady, and locked my door. I bathed my wound and stemmed the bleeding, then lay on my bed as the room spun around me.

  CHAPTER 112

  How magnificent the house must have looked that night! I might have passed it just then for I have often walked about the West-end of Town at a late hour gazing at Old Corruption’s display of wealth and ostentation (and deploring it, of course). I can imagine how the crush of carriages arriving formed a lock in the street that quite blocked the way — another gesture of contempt for the convenience of one’s fellows.

  I may lead you inside the mansion as it was that night. We pass a door-footman at the entrance and our names are announced by a hired groom of the chambers and called from one landing-place to the next as we ascend. Fine sophas and elegant beaufets are disposed around the walls and Collinet’s quadrille band are already playing waltzes and gallopades, though it is only ten and unfashionably early (but we are not of the bon ton!) to have arrived.

  Lady Mompesson and Sir David are preparing to receive their guests at the door to the great Salon at the top of the main stair. They appear so at ease that surely their guests almost doubt the rumours of their impending smash. From the lavish expenditure one would not believe these stories. Surely they are the usual spiteful gossip that the fashionable world is only too prey to from idleness and viciousness?

  Now Sir David advances smiling and bowing towards two of the guests: a lady of about fifty and a younger lady. The latter is not very beautiful but she seems pleased to see the baronet and smiles at him in a way surely calculated to inspire the strongest emotions in the male breast.

  Now here comes Sir Thomas in the company of the Countess of H—— and her son, the Honourable Percy Decies. Is that a wink that Sir Thomas bestows upon Sir David as he sees him addressing Miss Sugarman?

  And there is a rather burly young gentleman in regimentals. Why, it is Tom Mompesson! Yet surely he has been sacked from his regiment? However that may be, he is looking rather fine in his scarlet coat with gold froggings, his canary-yellow waistcoat, and his shiny Hessians. Who is that smartly-dressed gentleman with him? His bottle-green coat, though handsome, seems not quite to fit him. Why, it is Mr Vamplew! What is the tutor doing at the ball? Has a sudden access of the democratic instinct led his employers to invite him? Is the butler, too, a guest rather than the master of ceremonies here? No, for Mr Vamplew seems not to be enjoying himself but is watching the young gentleman very closely — and, in particular, the number of glasses of champagne he is consuming. For on one occasion he slightly shakes his head at the footman, Joseph, as he advances towards them and the servant instantly moves away.

  CHAPTER 113

  About an hour or less before midnight, just as the ball is getting under way, a young gentleman approaches the front-door of the house. He is stopped by the door-footman who, after a brief exchange, calls for Mr Thackaberry who comes, magnificently dressed and strapped almost to the point of insensibility. After some conversation the young man is admitted. He mounts the stairs and shakes hands with Sir David at the entrance to the Salon.

  “What the deuce are you doing here?” his host exclaims in an undertone.

  The guest flushes and says in an urgent whisper: “I must speak to you and your mother immediately.”

  “Not now, for Heaven’s sake! You’ll look like a damned bai
liff!”

  The young gentleman twists his mouth into a smile and says softly: “The Huffam heir is alive!”

  Sir David stares at him for a moment, then points towards a door at the end of the landing: “Go into the Chinese Room. I’ll fetch my mother.”

  A few minutes later Sir David and Lady Mompesson enter the darkened chamber. Sir David carries a candle-stick which provides the only light. As he places it on a side-table he says: “Mamma, you have often heard me speak of my friend, Harry.”

  “How do you know the Huffam boy is alive?” Lady Mompesson demands without ceremony.

  Harry flinches briefly and then says: “On the best evidence, Lady Mompesson: that of my own ears and eyes. I met and spoke with him today — yesterday, in fact.”

  “But how can you be sure it was he?” Lady Mompesson objects. “Nobody has positively identified him since he absconded from the madhouse to which his uncle sent him. And that was nearly four years ago.”

  “By the most remarkable coincidence,” Harry replies, “I met him just a few months before he escaped and disappeared. But I did not realize that it was he. He was known to me then merely as a school-friend of my half-brother. It was only very recently that I connected him with the Huffam heir.”

  “That is indeed an extraordinary coincidence,” Lady Mompesson says coldly.

  I believe she meant to imply that she did not believe him.

  Harry seems to take her remark in this sense for he addresses his next words to her son: “He came to me immediately after escaping from his grandfather, and that was when he told me who he was.”

  “But that was last February!” Sir David exclaims. “Why did you not tell me this before, Harry? You know very well that we have been in fear of being dispossessed as soon as the Court declares him dead.”

  “He swore me to secrecy because he knows his life is in danger,” Harry lies. “And then he disappeared and I had no idea where to lay hold of him again. But now I have found him. But to the main matter: the fact that he is alive after all is wonderful news for you.”