CHAPTER XI.
Mr. Barker's urgent engagement up town that evening must have been tomeet some one; but considering that the individual he might be supposedto be awaiting did not come, he showed a remarkable degree of patience.He went to a certain quiet club and ordered, with the utmost care, ameal after his own heart--for one; and though several members hailed himand greeted him on his return, he did not seem particularly interestedin what they had to say, but sat solitary at his small square table withits exquisite service; and when he had eaten, and had finished hismodest pint of Pommery Sec, he drank his coffee and smoked his owncigars in undisturbed contemplation of the soft-tinted wall-paper, andin calm, though apparently melancholy, enjoyment of the gentle lightthat pervaded the room, and of the sweet evening breeze that blew infrom the trees of Madison Square, so restful after the dust anddiscomfort of the hot September day.
Whoever it was that he awaited did not come, and yet Mr. Barkerexhibited no sign of annoyance. He went to another room, and sat in adeep arm-chair with a newspaper which he did not read, and once he tooka scrap of paper from his pocket and made a short note upon it with apatent gold pencil. It was a very quiet club, and Mr. Barker seemed tobe its quietest member. And well he might be, for he had made up hismind on a grave point. He had determined to marry.
He had long known it must come, and had said to himself more than oncethat "to every man upon this earth death cometh, soon or late;" butbeing human, he had put off the evil day, having always thought that itmust, of necessity, be evil. But now it was different. What he had saidto the Duke, and what the Duke had said to him, that evening on theyacht when they were talking about marriage, was exactly what he hadalways expected to occur. The day, he said, must come when theenterprising mamma will get the better of Silas B. Barker junior. Thegirl of the season, with her cartload of bouquets slung all over her,her neat figure, her pink-and-white complexion and her matchless stayingpowers in a ballroom, will descend upon the devoted victim Barker, beakand talons, like the fish-hawk on the poor, simple minnow innocentlydisporting itself in the crystal waters of happiness. There will bewedding presents, and a breakfast, and a journey, and a prospect ofeverlasting misery. All these things, thought he, must come to every manin time, unless he is a saint, or an author, or has no money, andtherefore they must come to me; but now it was different. If there is tobe any fishing, he thought, I will be the hawk, and the minnow may takeits chance of happiness. Why should the minnow not be happy? I am ahawk; well--but I am a very good hawk.
But these reflections were not what occupied his mind as he sat with hissecond cigar in the reading-room of his quiet club. These things he hadelaborated in his brain at least three days ago, and they had now takenthe form of a decision, against which there could be no appeal, becauseit was pleasant to the _ego_ of Mr Barker. Judgments of that sort henever reversed. He had fully determined to be the hawk, he had pickedout his minnow, and he was meditating the capture of his prey. A greatmany people do as much as that, and discover too late that what theyhave taken for a minnow is an alligator, or a tartar, or a salamander,or some evil beast that is too much for their powers. This was what Mr.Barker was afraid of, and this was what he wished to guard against.Unfortunately he was a little late in the selection of his victim, andhe knew it. He had determined to marry the Countess Margaret.
He knew perfectly well that Claudius had determined upon the very samething, and he knew that Claudius was intimate, to say the least of it,with the woman he loved. But Barker had made up his mind that Claudiushad been refused, and had accepted the Platonic position offered him bythe Countess, merely because he had not the strength to leave her. "Justlike the vanity of a fellow like that," he argued, "not to be willing tobelieve himself beaten." He had drawn the whole situation in his mindentirely to his own satisfaction. If Claudius could only be removed, anyother man would have as good a chance. The other man isBarker--therefore, remove Claudius at once. Remove him! Away with him!Let his place know him no more!
Mr. Barker sat unmoved in his chair; but he contemplated the nail on themiddle finger of his left hand with absorbed interest, even bringing itnearer the light in order to obtain a better view.
He was one of those men who are seldom altogether unprepared. His mindwas of the Napoleonic order, on a very small scale; with him to think ofthe end was to plan the means, and in the days that had followed thememorable night wherein the idea had struck him that he might marry theCountess in the teeth of Dr. Claudius, a project had grown up in hismind whereby he hoped now to effect his purpose. Perhaps the scheme haddeveloped unconsciously, as often happens with persons whose lives arespent in planning. Perhaps he fondly hoped--for he was not withoutvanity--that he might yet win the Countess fairly, and had onlycontemplated his plot as a possibility. Be that as it may, from themoment he realised that a plan of action was necessary he also realisedthat the plan was ready, and he determined to put it into execution. Itwas an unfair plan he meditated, bad from the root up, and he knew it;but he did not hesitate on that account. Silas B. Barker junior had notenough conscience to make it an object for him to deceive himself as tothe morality of his actions. A year or two since he would perhaps havedefended himself in a general way by saying it was arrogance for a manto set himself up as any better than his surroundings. But between ayear or two ago and this September evening there was set a gulf,represented by a couple of transactions in the "street," over whichthere was small joy in heaven and very little on earth.
Fair or unfair, it would be so much easier if Claudius were out of theway. It would simplify Mr. Barker's campaign so much; and, besides, itwas so easy a matter to remove him, for a time at least. How? Why,simply by asserting that Claudius was not Claudius, that he was not thelate Mr. Lindstrand's nephew, that he had no right to the fortune, andthat if he wished to save himself trouble he had better returnimmediately to Heidelberg and resume his duties as a private lecturer inthe University. It was easy enough! Who was there to show that Claudiuswas Claudius? There was nothing but the attestation of a wretchedHeidelberg notary, who might easily have been persuaded to swear alittle in consideration of a large bribe.
Besides, reflected Mr. Barker, the real Dr. Claudius was dead. He diedabout eight months ago; no doubt it was in the newspapers at the time,and a newspaper could certainly be found which should contain a noticeof his death. Therefore, if the real Dr. Claudius were dead this Dr.Claudius was a sham, an impostor, a man obtaining money by personatingthe dead--in short, a criminal. However, it might not be necessary toproceed with all the rigour of the law, and he might be quietly sentback to Germany.
Of course Mr. Barker was responsible in some measure for havingintroduced this villain to the Countess and to the Duke. But how couldMr. Barker, a creature of sunny, lamb-like innocence, be expected toknow an impostor at first sight? Claudius had acted his part so verywell, you know, and Barker had been deceived by his apparent frankness;he had not even made any inquiries in Heidelberg, but had simply gone tothe address his father had given him. Of course, also, the pretender hadadopted the obvious expedient of taking the dead man's lodgings; hadinstalled himself there, and called himself "Dr. Claudius." Nobody inAmerica had ever seen the real Dr. Claudius; none of the yachting partyhad any means of knowing whether he were what he pretended to be ornot; the only person who vouched for him was Silas B. Barker junior. Andif Silas B. Barker junior would not vouch for him any longer, who would,pray? Obviously, no one.
"Dukes are very pretty things," said Mr. Barker; "and to know themintimately is a special grace. But they cannot swear to what they do notknow anything about, any more than other people." And he lit anothercigar, and looked at the clock, an old-fashioned black-marble timepiecewith gilded hands. It wanted half an hour of midnight, and Mr. Barker'ssolitude had lasted since seven or thereabouts. Some one entered theroom, bidding good-night to some one else at the door. Mr. Barker turnedhis eyes, and, recognising a friend, he smiled a wrinkled smile.
"Well, Mr. Screw, how goes it?" he said. "I
t is some time since we met."
"Happy to meet you, sir; glad to see you," replied the lawyer, puttingout a long hand towards the part of the room where Mr. Barker wasstanding.
Mr. Screw was Mr. Scratch's partner. Mr. Screw was very tall, very thin,and exceedingly yellow. He had thick yellow hair, streaked with gray.His face seemed bound in old parchment, and his eyes were like brassnails driven very deep, but bright and fixed when he spoke. He had agreat abundance of teeth of all sizes and shapes; his face was cleanshaven; and he wore a stand-up collar, with a narrow black tie neatlyadjusted in a bow. His feet and hands were of immense size. He was inevening-dress. He doubled up a few of his joints and deposited himselfin a deep arm-chair--the twin of Barker's--on the other side of thefireplace.
"I thought very likely you would be here before the evening was out,"said Mr. Barker. "Yes," he continued after a pause, "that is the reasonI came here. I wanted to see you on business, and I missed you to-daydown town."
"Oh! business, did you say?" inquired the other, rubbing his bony noseand looking at the empty grate.
"Yes, rather important to you--more than to myself, though it concernsme too. You have a new client, I believe; the nephew of our old partnerMr. Lindstrand."
"Dr. Claudius?" asked the lawyer, looking up.
"He calls himself so, at any rate," said Barker.
"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Screw quickly, shifting his position.
"Do you think you have taken all the necessary steps towardsascertaining that he is the heir--the right man--the real Dr. Claudius?"
"Great heavens!" exclaimed the lawyer, surprised and terribly frightenedby Barker's insinuation, "you don't mean to say there is any doubt aboutit, do you?"
"I am inclined to think there is doubt--yes, decidedly. It is a veryserious matter, and I thought it best to speak to you about it beforetalking to my father. You see, though the loss might fall on us,indirectly, the moral responsibility is yours, since you are the lawyersin the case."
"But your father is one of the executors, Mr. Barker," said Mr. Screw,who felt obliged to say something, and wanted to gain time.
"My father--yes," and Barker smiled disagreeably. "Yes, he is one of theexecutors. But you yourself are the other, Mr. Screw. And as far as anyintelligence in the matter is concerned, you might be alone." Barkerwas willing to flatter the lawyer at the expense of his fond parent.Screw would be of more use to him than many fathers in this matter. Mr.Screw relapsed into silence, and sat for some minutes, hooking one legbehind the other, and thrusting as much of his hands into his pockets asthose receptacles would contain. After a time he changed his position,heaved a species of sigh that sounded like the sudden collapse of a setof organ-bellows, and ran his fingers through his thick hair.
Barker thought he was going to speak. But he was mistaken; Mr. Screw wastoo much taken aback to speak yet. Then Barker spoke for him.
"Well," said he, caressing his foot and looking at the ceiling, "whatare you going to do about it?"
"I shall do what is proper in such cases. I will stop his drawing anymore money, and investigate the matter. If this is not the realClaudius, the real Claudius must be somewhere, and can be found."
"Perhaps he is dead," suggested Barker.
"It is about as easy to find a dead man as a live man," said Screw. "Itis a surer thing, on the whole. A dead man can't change his clothes, andget his beard shaved off, and cavoort around the corner."
"Not generally speaking," said the other, "no well-regulated corpsewould do it, anyhow. Besides, if he is dead, there must have been somenotice of it in the Heidelberg papers. He belonged to the University,and they always put those things in the local sheet in Germany."
"That's so," said the lawyer. "Do you know anybody in Heidelberg whowould look the matter up, Mr. Barker?"
Mr. Barker did know some one in Heidelberg--the very man, in fact. Hewould write immediately, and set the inquiry on foot. Meanwhile therewere other things to be settled. After the first shock the lawyer wasnot inclined to let Barker off so easily for having indorsed a man hesuspected of being a humbug. Barker retorted that he had found Claudiusin possession of the documents transmitted by Messrs. Screw and Scratch,and that it was not his fault if he supposed that those astute gentlemenhad taken proper precautions to ascertain the identity of their client.He went into many details, explaining how his suspicions had beenaroused by degrees in the course of many conversations. He was expectinga question from Mr. Screw. At last it came.
"Mr. Barker," said Screw, fixing his brass-headed eyes intently on hiscompanion--for Mr. Screw was no fool--"Mr. Barker, you brought this manover here, and you know him better than any one else. Now, what I wantto know is this. He may be the right man, after all. What we are goingto do is entirely precautionary. Do you want to appear or not?" Barkerhad not expected the question to be put so directly, but he wasperfectly prepared for it.
"I am sure I do not care," he said, with a fine indifference. "I have noobjection. It is a mere question of expediency; do not consider me inthe matter. Do what you think is right," he added, emphasising the lastword, and meeting Screw's glance boldly enough. Screw looked at him fora moment or two in silence, and then turned his eyes away. There was thefaintest reflection of a smile on his yellow face, and the expressionbecame him well. Screw was astute, sharp as a ferret, relentless as asteel-corkscrew, crushing its cruel way through the creaking cork; butScrew was an honest man, as the times go. That was the differencebetween him and Barker. Screw's smile was his best expression, Barker'ssmile was of the devil, and very wily. Screw smiled because he wasamused. Barker smiled when he was successful.
"I think for the present," said Mr. Screw, "that unless you positivelywish to appear, it would be as well that you should not. If we aremistaken, and the Doctor is really what he pretends to be, it will bevery unpleasant for you afterwards to have been concerned in an inquiryinto the validity of his rights."
"Do you think so?" asked Barker, looking languidly across at Mr. Screw."Very well, in that case you may conduct the inquiry, and I will notappear. I shall meet him just as if nothing had happened, and let himtell me what you have done. Of course he will tell me, the first thing.Besides, as you say, he may be the right man, after all."
"Exactly," said Mr. Screw. He knew perfectly well that Barker would notwant Claudius to know the part he had played, in case all turned out tobe right, though he did not know that Barker was deceiving him. Hesupposed that Barker really had serious doubts about Claudius, and asthere was no one else to vouch for the latter, he was very honestlyfrightened. He reviewed the situation in his own mind, and he came tothe conclusion that he had really been remiss in the performance of hisduties as executor. It had not seemed in the least probable that anydeception could be practised, and yet, when all was said, there was onlythe Heidelberg notary's attestation of the signature to support theclaimant of Mr. Lindstrand's fortune. This reflection comforted Mr.Screw a little. At all events, he would be perfectly justified incalling on Claudius and stating his difficulty, requesting him to givewhat assistance was in his power towards a speedy identification ofhimself. In the meantime he set himself to cross-examine Mr. Barker,endeavouring to extract all the information he could. But extractinginformation from Mr. Barker was no easy task, as he very soon found, andas the hands of the clock pointed to one, he rose slowly, as by stages,from the depths of his arm-chair, and made up his mind that Barker didnot know very much about the matter, though he knew more than any oneelse, and that the only thing to be done was to go straight to Claudiusand state the case. No honest man ever had much difficulty in provingwho he was, thought Mr. Screw, and if he is an impostor, he will verylikely not show fight at all, but make off to parts unknown, where hecan very easily be caught.
Barker rose from his seat too, and took leave of the lawyer, wellpleased with the result of his evening's work. It was very satisfactory.He had produced exactly the impression on Mr. Screw's mind which he hadintended to produce; and having set that engine of
the law in motion, heknew that he could fold his hands and proceed to enjoy himself after hismanner. He knew that everything would be done which could contribute toannoy and mortify Claudius, and that it would be done in such a way,with such paraphernalia of legal courtesy and mercantile formality, thatthe unhappy Doctor could not complain. Barker had shrewdly calculatedthe difficulties Claudius would have to surmount in identifying himselfin a strange country, without friends, and against the prejudices of Mr.Screw, his uncle's executor. Moreover, if, after countless efforts andendless trouble, Claudius succeeded, as he probably would, in obtaininghis fortune, Barker would be no worse off than before. He would havedone nothing assailable, and he would have gained all the advantages ofthe time Claudius lost, not to mention the cloud of suspicion which mustinevitably rest on the Doctor, until he should succeed in clearinghimself before the world. With skill, courage, and money, there was notelling what progress Barker might make in his suit for the Countess,before Claudius was himself again. With such an advantage, if he couldnot outdo the Swede, he did not deserve to.
So saying, Mr. Barker, left once more alone in the sitting-room, pacedslowly twice round the table, looked at himself in the glass, twistedhis heavy moustache into shape, and smoothed his hair. Then he took hishat and went out. There was a cab at the door of the club, and in aminute more he was spinning along Fifth Avenue, in the direction of hisfather's house.
The machinery was wound up, and he had nothing more to do. To-morrowmorning Claudius would pass a bad quarter of an hour with Mr. Screw, andin the afternoon Barker would call upon him and offer such consolationas was in his power; and when he had called on Claudius, he would callon the Countess Margaret and tell her what sad sceptics these legalpeople were, everlastingly pestering peaceable citizens in the hope ofextracting from them a few miserable dollars. And he would tell her howsorry he was that Claudius should be annoyed, and how he, Barker, wouldsee him through--that is, he hoped so; for, he would add, of course,such men as Mr. Screw and his own father would not make so much troubleif they did not at least think they had some cause for anxiety; and soforth, and so on. And he would leave the Countess with a most decidedimpression that there was something wrong about Claudius. Oh yes!something not _quite_ clear about his antecedents, you know. Of courseit would come right in the end--no doubt of that; oh dear, no.
It was a happy night for Mr. Barker; but Claudius slept ill. He had anevil dream.