Samuel Boyd of Catchpole Square: A Mystery
CHAPTER III.
A LADY OF FASHION PAYS SAMUEL BOYD A VISIT.
A close and crafty face, masking a soul which knew no mercy and gavenone. The grave holds its secrets, and holds them no less securelythan Mr. Samuel Boyd, in his outward presentment to his fellow man,believed he held his. Whether the pursuit of pleasure for thedelights--be they fair or foul--that pleasure brings, or the pursuitof wealth for the power it confers, was the dominant principle of thisman's life, no human being could truthfully say, for no human beingwas admitted into his confidence. But one thing was certain. Bywhatever motive he may have been guided he held his way with absolutedependence on his own resources to triumph easily over every obstaclethat might present itself. As to the manner in which these triumphswere obtained it mattered little to him whether he merely brushedaside the persons who opposed him, or trampled them into the dust.Their mortification, their sufferings, their destruction, concernedhim not and did not trouble him. There are men who, in thecontemplated execution of a crime, or in the pursuance of a basedesire, listen to the voice of conscience before it is too late. Notso Mr. Samuel Boyd. He was harassed by no troubled dreams, by no weakfears of consequences, by no whisperings of an inconvenientconscience, by no spiritual warnings of Divine punishment for sinfuldeeds. For him, the entire range of the moral affections and of moralsentiments and conditions was expressed in one word: Self. It was forSelf he lived and for Self alone.
Such being the man it was not to be supposed that he was in any wayaffected by the sentence he had pronounced upon Abel Death, or that hegave a moment's thought to the poor clerk who was trudging home almostbroken-hearted at the loss even of the miserable wage he received forduties faithfully performed.
The letter he had taken from the letter box was from a lady who statedthat she would call upon him at eight o'clock this evening. He had notlong to wait, for by his watch he saw that it wanted but two minutesto eight; and punctually to the hour there came a rat-tat-tat at thestreet door.
With no indication of haste he went down, and laughed slyly to himselfwhen the knocking was repeated, more impatiently and peremptorily thesecond time than the first. He drew the door ajar leisurely, stillkeeping it on the chain.
"Who wants Samuel Boyd?" he inquired.
"Who wants Samuel Boyd?" answered a lady's voice. "Upon my word! Tokeep a lady waiting in such a dreadful place as this, the entrance towhich is so narrow that a carriage can't get into it! Open the door atonce, man, and let me in!"
"As quickly as I can, my lady," said Mr. Boyd, fumbling at the chain."It is Lady Wharton, is it not?"
"Who else should it be, pray?" replied the lady. "And if Lady Whartonhad known what kind of thoroughfare this was she would have thoughttwice before she'd have ventured into it." There was nothing querulousin the voice; it was hearty and bluff, with a cheerful ring in it verypleasant to the ear.
"Might a man so humble as Samuel Boyd inquire whether it is too latenow for Lady Wharton to think better of it?" asked Mr. Boyd,continuing to fumble at the chain.
"Man alive! Of course it is. Oh, you've got it opened at last. Well,that's a blessing. If it takes as long to get out of the house as toget in I sha'n't be home till midnight. Remain where you are, John,and wait for me. If I don't make my appearance before ten o'clockshout for help at the top of your voice." These last words wereaddressed to a footman, who, holding a large green umbrella over herladyship's head, had accompanied her from her carriage to the door ofMr. Boyd's dwelling. "John is my confidential man," she was nowaddressing Mr. Boyd. "I don't put my trust in women. They're a pack ofartful, designing creatures. What men see in us to marry us passes mycomprehension. If I were a man I'd want a sackfull of diamonds beforeI'd marry the handsomest among them."
"If your ladyship will kindly follow me," said Mr. Boyd, ascending thestairs.
"Bless my soul!" she exclaimed. "The passage is as dark as a railwaytunnel, and that parody of a candle in your hand makes matters worse.The stairs are safe, I hope? There are no trapdoors in them throughwhich a defenceless woman might suddenly disappear?" These words wereaccompanied with a ringing laugh which awoke the echoes in the almostdeserted house.
"They are quite safe, my lady, quite safe. Permit me to welcome you tomy poor abode."
They were now in the room, around which Lady Wharton stared inamazement. She was a large-framed woman, well proportioned and with aperfect figure. There was a hearty good nature in her face whichmatched well with her brisk voice. Her eyes were bright, her movementsquick and decided. Eminently a woman of management, of kindly heart,and one whose healthy physique and amiable disposition guided her totake a cheerful view of difficulties.
"Heaven and earth, Mr. Boyd!" she exclaimed. "This is the oddest abodea man of means could select." Here she caught sight of the wax figureof the Chinaman, which caused her to retreat a step or two and to giveutterance to a little scream.
"Don't be frightened, my lady, he's only wax. I took him for a debt;he was better than nothing, if only for melting down. All these thingshave been taken for debt. That is the way we are robbed; and the lawgives us no redress, no redress."
"Poor Mr. Boyd!" said Lady Wharton, with twinkling eyes "How very sad!Shall I lend you a five pound note?"
"I should be very grateful, my lady."
She burst into a merry laugh. "Singular creature! Shall we proceed tobusiness?"
"Yes, my lady. Time is money. You will be comfortable in this chair."
A strange contrast did they present as they sat on opposite sides ofthe table, the crafty, cringing face of the man looking into thecheery, good-humoured face of the lady.
"Now, Mr. Boyd, I am going to be quite frank with you." She placed hersatchel on the table, and took some papers from it. "My husband owesyou a large sum of money. Look over these figures and tell me if theyare correct."
"Quite correct, my lady, but calculated only up to the last day ofFebruary, which was yesterday. One day's interest has to be added ifyou are prepared to pay to-night. Strictly speaking, it is two days'interest, it being now past the hour of business."
"Of course you know I am not prepared to pay to-night, and of courseyou know that I have come in the place of my husband because inmatters of business he is a mere child."
"I have not found him so, my lady," said Samuel Boyd. "In myexperience of his lordship I have seen nothing in him to cause me tothink he is weak-minded. He came to me to borrow money, and I lent itto him on bills signed in his name. It was a risk, and I took it."
"Very well, Mr. Boyd," said Lady Wharton, cheerfully. "We have not metto contradict each other, or to raise up difficulties, but to come tosuch an arrangement as may be agreeable to you."
"If your ladyship pleases," said Mr. Boyd.
"At the same time," she continued, "I wish to state how far myunderstanding went, when, Lord Wharton being ill in bed, I opened up acorrespondence with you. I am very fond of my husband, Mr. Boyd."
"His lordship is to be envied."
"Indeed I think he is," said Lady Wharton, with a little laugh, "and Iam to be envied, too, for having a husband so amiably inclined. But heis altogether too easy and careless in money matters; when he wishesfor a thing, he will promise anything, consent to anything, signanything, so long as he gets it. He is really like a child in thesematters, and having made up my mind that he was not to be worried, Iopened a letter which you wrote to him, and I replied to it. Now, Mr.Boyd, it was from that letter that I learned, for the first time, thatLord Wharton was in your debt."
"Indeed, my lady."
"Yes, indeed. I was not astonished. Nothing that Lord Wharton doesastonishes me. He can get through a great deal of money. So can I. Heis extravagant. So am I. What are you to do, Mr. Boyd, when you havebeen brought up to it?"
"Nothing but spend," said Samuel Boyd.
"You are a man of sense. We can do nothing but spend--and between youand me, Mr. Boyd"--here she laughed long and heartily--"we _do_ spend.Why not, wh
en we can afford it?"
"Why not, indeed?" murmured Mr. Boyd, in ready acquiescence.
"But rich as people may be they are sometimes in need of ready money,and that, I suppose, is where gentlemen of your profession come in.Having now, in a manner of speaking, cleared the ground, we can go oneasily. There are bills coming due."
"There are, my lady."
"I asked you in a letter what they amounted to; you answered, twelvethousand pounds. Now, Mr. Boyd, I should not like you to think that Iwant to take advantage of you."
"Thank you, my lady. I have been taken in so often that I am almostbeginning to despair of human nature."
"Don't, Mr. Boyd, don't. There is a great deal of good in humannature, and we can get a lot of fun out of life if we set about it theright way. I have consulted another person in this business, and hehas advised me. My brother, Lord Fairfax. You have heard of him,perhaps. Yes? I thought you must; he is almost a celebrity, with hisindolent and easy ways. It is in our blood; we object to be troubled.All we ask is that the world should go round as usual, and that ourlittle wishes should be gratified. Lord Fairfax suggested that Ishould put the business into the hands of a lawyer." Mr. Boyd, with ascarcely perceptible motion, lifted his eyebrows. "I said, no. We havea rooted objection to lawyers in our family; they make your head ache.'Quite right,' said Lord Fairfax. 'Have nothing to do with lawyers.'He never disputes, Mr. Boyd. The moment you say a thing he agrees toit. Then he said, 'Find out how much it amounts to.' I wrote to you,and you told me. You also sent me some bills, for the purpose of doingaway with the old obligations, and putting the whole of the businesson a new footing. These bills were to be accepted by Lord Wharton, andyou strongly urged me to get another responsible name at the back ofthem. Lord Wharton signed the bills when I put them before him. Thedear man hardly as much as looked at them. Then I went to LordFairfax, and _he_ put his name on the back. _He_ hardly as much aslooked at them. And to cut a long matter short, Mr. Boyd, I havebrought them with me."
She took them from her satchel, and handed them to Mr. Boyd, whoexamined them carefully, and jotted down figures on a piece of paper.Satisfactory as the transaction was to him no sign of satisfactionescaped him.
"Are they in order, Mr. Boyd?"
"Yes, they appear to be in order. I am making a great sacrifice foryou, my lady."
"We are under a great obligation to you. And now, Mr. Boyd, for alittle piece of business on my own account. I want a thousand poundsfor my private purse."
"A thousand pounds, my lady, a thousand pounds!" murmured Mr. Boyd.
"I will _not_ worry Lord Wharton with my dressmaker's bill, and shehas begged me to let her have something on account. There are also oneor two other little bills I wish to pay. Don't be alarmed; I am goingto give you security. I have been looking through my jewellery, and Ifound some things that have gone out of fashion. I will not sell them,but I am willing to deposit them with you. Here they are. Oblige me bylooking over them. Some of the cases would not go into my satchel, soI took them all out, and wrapped them in paper. I hope you won'tmind."
"Not at all, my lady," said Mr. Boyd, opening the papers, whichcontained jewels of various kinds, bracelets, necklaces, ear-rings,brooches, and other gewgaws. Many of the precious stones were in oldsettings, and he saw at a glance that they were worth considerablymore than the thousand pounds which this reckless lady of fashionwished to raise upon them. Among them were two ornaments ofconspicuous beauty--a pearl necklace, and a device for the hair in theshape of a peacock's tail.
"I am reposing a great confidence in you," said Lady Wharton. "Thepearl necklace and the peacock's tail were presents from myfather--they cost a great price, I believe--and I would not part withthem for any consideration. In a few months I shall--shall--what isthe word for it? Oh, yes, redeem them."
"You don't want the thousand pounds immediately, my lady?" said Mr.Boyd.
"My good man, I want it now, this minute."
"Impossible, my lady. I could not get it together in less than five orsix days. If that will suit you----"
Lady Wharton beat an impatient tattoo on the table with the tips ofher fingers. "Are you sure you could not get it earlier?"
"Quite sure, my lady."
"It _must_ suit me, then, but it is really very provoking. LordWharton is ordered into the country, and we are going to-morrow."
"I can send you a cheque through the post."
"I should prefer to receive it personally from you, and in bank notes.You can bring it to me in the country, I suppose?"
"There will be no difficulty, my lady. To what part of the country?"
"We are going to our place in Bournemouth, The Gables. We give a ballthere every year on the 7th of March. Of course I may rely upon havingthe money before that date."
"Pardon me a moment, my lady," said Mr. Boyd, pretending to makecertain calculations on paper, and presently adding, "I can'tpositively promise, but you shall be sure to have it _on_ that date."
"Oh, very well, very well," said Lady Wharton, "I see that I amexpected to agree to everything. And now, Mr. Boyd, our business isover, I think. Bless my soul, how dismally the wind sounds in thishouse! If I don't get out of it quickly John will think I've beenspirited away. Don't trouble to come down; one of your servants cansee me to the door."
"I keep no servants, my lady," he replied. "A charwoman comes when Isend for her. That is my life."
"Do you mean to tell me that you live here quite alone?"
"Quite alone, my lady, quite alone, and safer and more secure than ifmy house was full of servants."
"Mr. Boyd," said Lady Wharton, tapping him lightly on the arm, "youshould marry."
"What did your ladyship say yourself about women when you entered thehouse," he answered slyly.
She laughed heartily at this retort, and following him down the stairsas he led the way with a light, bade him good night at the streetdoor.
"John," she said to her confidential man as he conducted her to hercarriage, "the house is like a grave."
"I was thinking that myself, my lady," said John.