five tales-第22节
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se； for one who liked 〃big pots；〃 a certain glamour about the personality of old Heythorp； still a bit of a swell in shipping circles； and a bit of an aristocrat in Liverpool。 But during the last year Charles Ventnor had realised that the old chap's star had definitely setwhen that happens； of course； there is no more glamour； and the time has come to get your money。 Weakness in oneself and others is despicable！ Besides； he had food for thought； and descending the stairs he chewed it： He smelt a ratcreatures for which both by nature and profession he had a nose。 Through Bob Pillin； on whom he sometimes dwelt in connection with his younger daughter； he knew that old Pillin and old Heythorp had been friends for thirty years and more。 That； to an astute mind； suggested something behind this sale。 The thought had already occurred to him when he read his copy of the report。 A commission would be a breach of trust； of course； but there were ways of doing things； the old chap was devilish hard pressed； and human nature was human nature！ His lawyerish mind habitually put two and two together。 The old fellow had deliberately appointed to meet his creditors again just after the general meeting which would decide the purchasehad said he might do something for them then。 Had that no significance？
In these circumstances Charles Ventnor had come to the meeting with eyes wide open and mouth tight closed。 And he had watched。 It was certainly remarkable that such an old and feeble man； with no neck at all； who looked indeed as if he might go off with apoplexy any moment； should actually say that he 〃stood or fell〃 by this purchase； knowing that if he fell he would be a beggar。 Why should the old chap be so keen on getting it through？ It would do him personally no good； unlessExactly！ He had left the meeting； therefore； secretly confident that old Heythorp had got something out of this transaction which would enable him to make a substantial proposal to his creditors。 So that when the old man had declared that he was going to make none； something had turned sour in his heart； and he had said to himself： 〃All right； you old rascal！ You don't know C。 V。〃 The cavalier manner of that beggarly old rip； the defiant look of his deep little eyes； had put a polish on the rancour of one who prided himself on letting no man get the better of him。 All that evening； seated on one side of the fire； while Mrs。 Ventnor sat on the other； and the younger daughter played Gounod's Serenade on the violinhe cogitated。 And now and again he smiled； but not too much。 He did not see his way as yet； but had little doubt that before long he would。 It would not be hard to knock that chipped old idol off his perch。 There was already a healthy feeling among the shareholders that he was past work and should be scrapped。 The old chap should find that Charles V。 was not to be defied； that when he got his teeth into a thing； he did not let it go。 By hook or crook he would have the old man off his Boards； or his debt out of him as the price of leaving him alone。 His life or his moneyand the old fellow should determine which。 With the memory of that defiance fresh within him； he almost hoped it might come to be the first； and turning to Mrs。 Ventnor； he said abruptly：
〃Have a little dinner Friday week； and ask young Pillin and the curate。〃 He specified the curate； a tee…totaller； because he had two daughters； and males and females must be paired； but he intended to pack him off after dinner to the drawing…room to discuss parish matters while he and Bob Pillin sat over their wine。 What he expected to get out of the young man he did not as yet know。
On the day of the dinner； before departing for the office； he had gone to his cellar。 Would three bottles of Perrier Jouet do the trick； or must he add one of the old Madeira？ He decided to be on the safe side。 A bottle or so of champagne went very little way with him personally； and young Pillin might be another。
The Madeira having done its work by turning the conversation into such an admirable channel； he had cut it short for fear young Pillin might drink the lot or get wind of the rat。 And when his guests were gone； and his family had retired； he stood staring into the fire； putting together the pieces of the puzzle。 Five or six thousand poundssix would be ten per cent。 on sixty！ Exactly！ Scrivens young Pillin had said！ But Crow & Donkin； not Scriven & Coles； were old Heythorp's solicitors。 What could that mean； save that the old man wanted to cover the tracks of a secret commission； and had handled the matter through solicitors who did not know the state of his affairs！ But why Pillin's solicitors？ With this sale just going through； it must look deuced fishy to them too。 Was it all a mare's nest； after all？ In such circumstances he himself would have taken the matter to a London firm who knew nothing of anybody。 Puzzled； therefore； and rather disheartened； feeling too that touch of liver which was wont to follow his old Madeira； he went up to bed and woke his wife to ask her why the dickens they couldn't always have soup like that！
Next day he continued to brood over his puzzle； and no fresh light came； but having a matter on which his firm and Scrivens' were in touch； he decided to go over in person； and see if he could surprise something out of them。 Feeling； from experience； that any really delicate matter would only be entrusted to the most responsible member of the firm； he had asked to see Scriven himself； and just as he had taken his hat to go； he said casually：
〃By the way； you do some business for old Mr。 Heythorp； don't you？〃
Scriven； raising his eyebrows a little； murmured： 〃Erno；〃 in exactly the tone Mr。 Ventnor himself used when he wished to imply that though he didn't as a fact do business； he probably soon would。 He knew therefore that the answer was a true one。 And non…plussed； he hazarded：
〃Oh！ I thought you did； in regard to a Mrs。 Larne。〃
This time he had certainly drawn blood of sorts； for down came Scriven's eyebrows； and he said：
〃Mrs。 Larnewe know a Mrs。 Larne； but not in that connection。 Why？〃
〃Oh！ Young Pillin told me〃
〃Young Pillin？ Why； it's his…！〃 A little pause； and then： 〃Old Mr。 Heythorp's solicitors are Crow & Donkin； I believe。〃
Mr。 Ventnor held out his hand。 〃Yes； yes；〃 he said； 〃goodbye。 Glad to have got that matter settled up；〃 and out he went； and down the street； important； smiling。 By George！ He had got it！ 〃It's his father〃Scriven had been going to say。 What a plant！ Exactly！ Oh！ neat！ Old Pillin had made the settlement direct； and the solicitors were in the dark； that disposed of his difficulty about them。 No money had passed between old Pillin and old Heythorp not a penny。 Oh！ neat！ But not neat enough for Charles Ventnor； who had that nose for rats。 Then his smile died； and with a little chill he perceived that it was all based on suppositionnot quite good enough to go on！ What then？ Somehow he must see this Mrs。 Larne； or betterold Pillin himself。 The point to ascertain was whether she had any connection of her own with Pillin。 Clearly young Pillin didn't know of it； for； according to him； old Heythorp had made the settlement。 By Jove！ That old rascal was deepall the more satisfaction in proving that he was not as deep as C。 V。 To unmask the old cheat was already beginning to seem in the nature of a public service。 But on what pretext could he visit Pillin？ A subscription to the Windeatt almshouses！ That would make him talk in self…defence and he would take care not to press the request to the actual point of getting a subscription。 He caused himself to be driven to the Pillin residence in Sefton Park。 Ushered into a room on the ground floor； heated in American fashion； Mr。 Ventnor unbuttoned his coat。 A man of sanguine constitution； he found this hot…house atmosphere a little trying。 And having sympathetically obtained Joe Pillin's reluctant refusalQuite so！ One could not indefinitely extend one's subscriptions even for the best of causes！he said gently：
〃By the way； you know Mrs。 Larne； don't you？〃
The effect of that simple shot surpassed his highest hopes。 Joe Pillin's face； never highly coloured； turned a sort of grey； he opened his thin lips； shut them quickly； as birds do； and something seemed to pass with difficulty down his scraggy throat。 The hollows； which nerve exhaustion delves in the cheeks of men whose cheekbones are not high； increased alarmingly。 For a moment he looked deathly； then； moistening his lips； he said：
〃LarneLarne？ No； I don't seem…〃
Mr。 Ventnor； who had taken care to be drawing on his gloves； murmured：
〃Oh！ I thoughtyour son knows her； a relation of old Heythorp's；〃 and he looked up。
Joe Pillin had his handkerchief to his mouth； he coughed feebly； then with more and more vigour：
〃I'm in very poor health；〃 he said； at last。 〃I'm getting abroad at once。 This cold's killing me。 What name did you say？〃 And he remained with his handkerchief against his teeth。
Mr。 Ventnor repeated：
〃Larne。 Writes stories。〃
Joe Pillin muttered into his handkerchief
〃Ali！ H'm！ NoIno！ My son knows all sorts of people。 I shall have to try Me
