CHAPTER XXXV
Da Souza's office was neither furnished nor located with the idea ofimpressing casual visitors. It was in a back-street off an alley, andalthough within a stone's throw of Lothbury its immediate surroundingswere not exhilarating. A blank wall faced it, a green-grocer's shopshared with a wonderful, cellar-like public-house the honour of its moreimmediate environment. Trent, whose first visit it was, looked about himwith surprise mingled with some disgust.
He pushed open the swing door and found himself face to face with DaSouza's one clerk--a youth of unkempt appearance, shabbily but flashilydressed, with sallow complexion and eyes set close together. He wasengaged at that particular moment in polishing a large diamond pin uponthe sleeve of his coat, which operation he suspended to gaze with muchastonishment at this unlooked-for visitor. Trent had come straight fromAscot, straight indeed from his interview with Francis, and was stillwearing his racing-glasses.
"I wish to see Mr. Da Souza," Trent said. "Is he in?"
"I believe so, sir," the boy answered. "What name?"
"Trent! Mr. Scarlett Trent!"
The door of an inner office opened, and Da Souza, sleek and curled,presented himself. He showed all his white teeth in the smile with whichhe welcomed his visitor. The light of battle was in his small, keeneyes, in his cringing bow, his mock humility.
"I am most honoured, Mr. Trent, sir," he declared. "Welcome back toEngland. When did you return?"
"Yesterday," Trent said shortly.
"And you have come," Da Souza continued, "fresh from the triumphs of therace-course. It is so, I trust?"
"I have come straight from Ascot," Trent replied, "but my horse wasbeaten if that is what you mean. I did not come here to talk aboutracing though. I want a word with you in private."
"With much pleasure, sir," Da Souza answered, throwing open with alittle flourish the door of his sanctum. "Will you step in? This way!The chair is dusty. Permit me!"
Trent threw a swift glance around the room in which he found himself. Itwas barely furnished, and a window, thick with dust, looked out onthe dingy back-wall of a bank or some public building. The floor wasuncovered, the walls were hung with yellow maps of gold-mines all inthe West African district. Da Souza himself, spick and span, with glossyboots and a flower in his buttonhole, was certainly the least shabbything in the room.
"You know very well," Trent said, "what I have come about. Of courseyou'll pretend you don't, so to save time I'll tell you. What have youdone with Monty?"
Da Souza spread outwards the palms of his hands. He spoke withwell-affected impatience.
"Monty! always Monty! What do I want with him? It is you who should lookafter him, not I."
Trent turned quietly round and locked the door. Da Souza would havecalled out, but a paroxysm of fear had seized him. His fat, white facewas pallid, and his knees were shaking. Trent's hand fell upon hisshoulder, and Da Souza felt as though the claws of a trap had grippedhim.
"If you call out I'll throttle you," Trent said. "Now listen. Francis isin England and, unless Monty is produced, will tell the whole story. Ishall do the best I can for all of us, but I'm not going to have Montydone to death. Come, let's have the truth."
Da Souza was grey now with a fear greater even than a physical one. Hehad been so near wealth. Was he to lose everything?
"Mr. Trent," he whispered, "my dear friend, have reason. Monty, I tellyou, is only half alive, he hangs on, but it is a mere thread of life.Leave it all to me! To-morrow he shall be dead!--oh, quite naturally.There shall be no risk! Trent, Trent!"
His cry ended in a gurgle, for Trent's hand was on his throat.
"Listen, you miserable hound," he whispered. "Take me to him thismoment, or I'll shake the life out of you. Did you ever know me go backfrom my word?"
Da Souza took up his hat with an ugly oath and yielded. The two men leftthe office together.
* * * * *
"Listen!"
The two women sat in silence, waiting for some repetition of the sound.This time there was certainly no possibility of any mistake. From theroom above their heads came the feeble, quavering sobbing of an old man.Julie threw down her book and sprang up.
"Mother, I cannot bear it any longer," she cried. "I know where the keyis, and I am going into that room."
Mrs. Da Souza's portly frame quivered with excitement.
"My child," she pleaded, "don't Julie, do remember! Your father willknow, and then--oh, I shall be frightened to death!"
"It is nothing to do with you, mother," the girl said, "I am going."
Mrs. Da Souza produced a capacious pocket-handkerchief, reeking withscent, and dabbed her eyes with it. From the days when she too had beenlike Julie, slim and pretty, she had been every hour in dread of herhusband. Long ago her spirit had been broken and her independencesubdued. To her friend and confidants no word save of pride and lovefor her husband had ever passed her lips, yet now as she watched herdaughter she was conscious of a wild, passionate wish that her fate atleast might be a different one. And while she mopped her eyes and lookedbackward, Julie disappeared.
Even Julie, as she ascended the stairs with the key of the locked roomin her hand, was conscious of unusual tremors. If her position withregard to her father was not the absolute condition of serfdom intowhich her mother had been ground down, she was at least afraid of him,and she remembered the strict commands he had laid upon them all. Theroom was not to be open save by himself. All cries and entreaties wereto be disregarded, every one was to behave as though that room did notexist. They had borne it already for days, the heart-stirring moans,the faint, despairing cries of the prisoner, and she could bear it nolonger. She had a tender little heart, and from the first it had beenmoved by the appearance of the pitiful old man, leaning so heavily uponher father's arm, as they had come up the garden walk together. She madeup her mind to satisfy herself at least that his isolation was of hisown choice. So she went boldly up the stairs and thrust the key into thelock. A moment's hesitation, then she threw it open.
Her first impulse, when she had looked into the face of the man whostumbled up in fear at her entrance, was to then and there abandon herenterprise--for Monty just then was not a pleasant sight to look upon.The room was foul with the odour of spirits and tobacco smoke. Montyhimself was unkempt and unwashed, his eyes were bloodshot, and he hadfallen half across the table with the gesture of a drunken man. At thesight of him her pity died away. After all, then, the sobbing they hadheard was the maudlin crying of a drunken man. Yet he was very old, andthere was something about the childish, breathless fear with which hewas regarding her which made her hesitate. She lingered instead, andfinding him tongue-tied, spoke to him.
"We heard you talking to yourself downstairs," she said, "and we wereafraid that you might be in pain."
"Ah," he muttered, "That is all, then! There is no one behind you--noone who wants me!"
"There is no one in the house," she assured him, "save my mother andmyself."
He drew a little breath which ended in a sob. "You see," he saidvaguely, "I sit up here hour by hour, and I think that I fancy things.Only a little while ago I fancied that I heard Mr. Walsh's voice, and hewanted the mission-box, the wooden box with the cross, you know. I keepon thinking I hear him. Stupid, isn't it?"
He smiled weakly, and his bony fingers stole round the tumbler whichstood by his side. She shook her head at him smiling, and crossed overto him. She was not afraid any more.
"I wouldn't drink if I were you," she said, "it can't be good for you,I'm sure!"
"Good," he answered slowly, "it's poison--rank poison."
"If I were you," she said, "I would put all this stuff away and go for anice walk. It would do you much more good."
He shook his head.
"I daren't," he whispered. "They're looking for me now. I musthide--hide all the time!"
"Who are looking for you?" she asked.
"Don't you know? Mr. Walsh and his wi
fe! They have come over after me!"
"Why?"
"Didn't you know," he muttered, "that I am a thief?"
She shook her head.
"No, I certainly didn't. I'm very sorry!"
He nodded his head vigorously a great many times.
"Won't you tell me about it?" she asked. "Was it anything very bad?"
"I don't know," he said. "It's so hard to remember! It is something likethis! I seem to have lived for such a long time, and when I look back Ican remember things that happened a very long time ago, but then thereseems a gap, and everything is all misty, and it makes my head achedreadfully to try and remember," he moaned.
"Then don't try," she said kindly. "I'll read to you for a little timeif you like, and you shall sit quite quiet."
He seemed not to have heard her. He continued presently--
"Once before I died, it was all I wanted. Just to have heard her speak,to have seen my little girl grown into a woman, and the sea was alwaysthere, and Oom Sam would always come with that cursed rum. Then one daycame Trent and talked of money and spoke of England, and when he wentaway it rang for ever in my ears, and at night I heard her calling forme across the sea. So I stole out, and the great steamer was lyingthere with red fires at her funnel, and I was mad. She was crying for meacross the sea, so I took the money!"
She patted his hand gently. There was a lump in her throat, and her eyeswere wet.
"Was it your daughter you wanted so much to see?" she asked softly.
"My daughter! My little girl," he answered! "And I heard her calling tome with her mother's voice across the sea. So I took the money."
"No one would blame you very much for that, I am sure," she saidcheerfully. "You are frightening yourself needlessly. I will speak toFather, and he shall help you."
He held up his hand.
"He is hiding me," he whispered. "It is through him I knew that theywere after me. I don't mind for myself, but she might get to know, and Ihave brought disgrace enough upon her. Listen!"
There were footsteps upon the stairs. He clung to her in an agony ofterror.
"They are coming!" he cried. "Hide me! Oh, hide me!"
But she too was almost equally terrified, for she had recognised herfather's tread. The door was thrown open and De Souza entered, followedby Scarlett Trent.