THE TWO GUARDIANS.
When the two men found themselves in the library it was quite dusk outside, and a deep gloom filled the room. There was no one else in the place, and no candle or lamp illumed the dark and cavernous recesses of shadows lying here and there remote from the great window.
"I will not detain you long, Mr. Grey. Do you wish for lights?"
"Not at all, Sir William."
This man, who had come in the morning as a stranger, and whom he, Grey, promised himself he would quickly eject if he made himself unpleasant or pushed himself upon Miss Midharst after the reading of the will, was now treating him, Grey, as a guest in that house! And not only that, but he had pushed himself upon Miss Midharst, and seemed to have got on very well with her, judging from the parting which had just taken place between them. The tables were turned on him, Grey, and the less light there was to expose his discomfiture the pleasanter for him. The gold was still leading, still leading, but only by a head; and the lead was gaining, hair's-breadth by hair's-breadth, every minute.
"Suppose we sit near the window, where the most light is," said Sir William.
They both moved towards the window, and, having taken chairs, the younger man began:
"In the first place, Mr. Grey, let me thank you most cordially for all your great kindness and care shown to Miss Midharst during this troublesome time. I assure you I shall never forget the debt of gratitude I owe you for your generosity and devotedness under the trying circumstances."
"I feel greatly flattered by your approval, Sir William. I have tried in my humble way to do my duty, and if I have failed I have failed through no want of desire to do my duty by the child of—if I may be permitted to call him so—my old friend Sir Alexander Midharst."
There was a strange mixture of emotions in Grey's voice as he spoke. Sarcasm and fear mingled freely, and the young man was for a moment in doubt as to how he should proceed. Mr. Grey, now alone and in the dark, did not impress him quite so favourably as earlier in the day, when others were present, and when the man's face and figure could be seen.
The young man paused a while, and made up his mind not to inquire into the constituents of that tone if it were not repeated.
"It," he thought, "may have been accidental."
Aloud he said, "I did not come into this neighbourhood until last night, and since then every one I met seems to have done nothing but sing your praise. All the people at the "Warfinger Hotel" have spoken in unstinted terms of respect. You must not think they knew who I was, for I gave no name. I was and am greatly delighted at this, for I hope from it you and I may get on well together, out of consideration to my cousin's comfort."
"I sincerely trust we may always get on well together. I certainly will not deliberately risk losing your good opinion."
This time there was nothing unusual or disquieting in the tone. Grey had himself caught the import of his own voice in his previous reply, and felt he had made a great mistake. It was very hard though for him, Grey, a man of his position and standing, to sit there and be blandly approved of by this young man—by this young man who seemed to take his own success in all things as a foregone conclusion. He, Grey, must play his cards carefully, and above all things he must not show the direction in which it was necessary for him to force the game. But he was in the dark; and if denied the expression of his feelings to his voice, he might allow them to run riot over his face, and it was a relief to frown and scowl and sneer in silence.
"I have first of all a favour to ask you, Mr. Grey."
"I am sure, Sir William, if it is in my power to grant it, I shall be only too happy to do so." This was said in the banker's most urbane accents.
"Well, I understand that your bank has kept the Midharst account for a long time; will you be kind enough to accept the keeping of mine?"
"The Midharst has been the most important of all our accounts for a long time, and we shall feel honoured and delighted if you will favour us with yours."
There was nothing very dreadful about this. It seemed as if the young baronet would turn out as confiding and uninquisitive as the old one. So far this looked promising.
"And now," said Sir William, "will you do me another favour?"
"If," returned the banker, in a gay tone of badinage, "the second favour at all resembles the first, I think I could go on granting you such favours all the night."
This young man was not only simple and confiding, but downright amiable and sociable.
"You must not think I am extravagant when I have said what I am going to say."
"My dear Sir William, if you want any money, you draw on us, as a matter of course, for any sum you may require. That is an affair of ordinary business, not favour; and it was quite unnecessary for you to say anything about it."
Things were growing more comfortable as they got along.
"Why, I should not wonder," thought Grey, with a smile that almost developed into a laugh,—"I should not wonder if he gave away the bride."
"But the sum I require is large."
"Draw on us for it in the morning."
"I don't think you would say so if you knew the sum."
"Try us. Draw on us to-morrow."
"Twenty thousand?"
"Only? I thought the sum was a serious one! You really must not think of attaching any importance to such a matter. My dear Sir William, you can draw on us for fifty thousand without notice. If you have the least occasion for more than fifty, just tell me four days before you draw, so that there may be no chance of a disappointment to you."
Grey thought, "Clearly this young man is in debt. How lucky! When a man is in debt and wants money badly he will do——" He paused, thought of his own case, shuddered, and whispered in the innermost solitude of the desert of crime where he and his spectre dwelt,—"he will do anything—murder!"
"You must not think I am in debt. I do not owe a shilling. I never did."
"That is highly creditable in a young man of your expectations," said Grey, in a tone of high admiration. To himself he said, "I'm sorry it isn't for debts he wants the money. What can he want the money for? Nothing good, I'll swear."
"You see, Mr. Grey, I may seem abrupt to you, but I do not mean to be so."
"I assure you I cannot guess why you for a moment imagine I could find reason to think you abrupt."
"Ah, well, yes! What I said about abruptness has rather to do with what I am about to say than with anything I have yet said. I am very quick to decide upon things, and very prompt to act, and I may say without boasting that once I take a thing in hand I usually make it turn out as I wish; I like to do things that seem difficult; but I never undertake anything when I do not clearly see my way to realisation."
"Most useful, positively invaluable qualities," said Grey, in a tone of admiration; mentally he thought, "If what this man says of himself is true, my life depends upon the direction this cursed activity of his takes."
"I have to leave the country for a time. I must go back to Egypt for some months."
"Indeed!" ejaculated Grey. He could scarcely repress a cry of joy. To be rid, and rid quickly, of this dreamy energetic man was a mercy for which he did not dare to hope. "Do you leave England soon?" Grey asked in a tone of gentle sorrow.
"In a few days. Ten days at the outside, and before I leave I want the money, and to put the thing I have decided upon in trim."
"Can I be of any further assistance to you than financially?"
"Yes, I think you can, if you will be kind enough. You take a great interest in Miss Midharst?"
"Aha!" exclaimed Grey, as though he had been struck. The question of the young man caused the terrible importance of Miss Midharst to present itself suddenly to his mind. He saw at one glance the stakes he had put down, and the prize for which he was playing; and thus coming suddenly upon a bird's-eye view of his position, he received a violent shock, which forced the exclamation from him.
"What's the matter?" cried the young man, rising quickly and approaching the banker. "Are you hurt?"
"Pray excuse me. It is nothing, Sir William. Do be seated. I am very sorry for having alarmed you. Some little time ago I injured my knee—as I thought at the time, slightly; but it often gives me a single pang of most acute pain, and in crossing my legs just as you spoke that pang came, and I could not but cry out, if my life depended on not doing so. I know you will excuse me, Sir William; the pain is all gone. I think you were saying, when I so unhappily interrupted you, that you and I take a deep interest in Miss Midharst."
"You are sure you are all right?"
"Yes, quite sure."
"Did you ever hear the death-scream of a horse?"
"No, never."
"Your shout frightened me; it was like that. Well, as I was saying, we both take an interest in Miss Midharst. You know the way Sir Alexander treated this place. I heard of it, and to-day I see it."
"Yes; it is naked enough."
"Well, it is not a fit place for Miss Midharst to reside in now."
"I have been thinking, of course, of getting a suitable house for her until we are able to buy or build one."
"Oh, I don't mean anything of that kind. She is to stay here."
"Stay here! You do not know that from me, Sir William. It is not my intention. My intention was to place my own house at her disposal, and live in my town house."
"Oh, but it is all settled: she is to stay here."
"All settled! All settled, Sir William, and by whom?"
"By Miss Midharst and me."
"But—but—" Grey was trembling all over now, he knew not why—"but, Sir William, one would think Miss Midharst's guardian might have been consulted on the matter before all was settled."
"I assure you he was."
"But I pledge you my word, Sir William, this is the first I have heard of it."
"My dear Mr. Grey, there is some mistake. You surely do not imagine you are Miss Midharst's guardian?"
"Then, in the name of Heaven," cried Grey feebly, "if I am not, who is?"
"I."
"You! But the will does not mention your name!"
"Nor yours, as guardian of her person. You will take charge of Miss Midharst's fortune, as by will appointed. I will take charge of Miss Midharst herself, by position as head of the house. You did not catch the full drift of the meaning of the will. I paid particular attention to that paragraph."
"No doubt you are right, Sir William. I did not pay particular attention to that paragraph. I gathered that I was the only guardian named, and I concluded the conditions were the usual ones."
It was with the utmost difficulty Grey could prevent himself from betraying his conflicting passions. Now came personal anger against the young and determined baronet; now despair at the thought of having Maud removed from his personal custody. Sir Alexander had certainly given him to understand that he, Grey, was to be guardian to the girl; and here was he, after all he had done and risked, after he had died his hands in blood——Bah! that kind of thing would drive him mad. He must keep calm now if he did not wish to hang next month.
The young man continued: "That twenty thousand I want for putting this place to rights. I see already what I wish done to the grounds; before I leave I shall know what I want done to the building and furniture."
"By-and-by, I daresay," thought Grey, "you will find out what you want done with me."
The interview lasted little longer, and nothing of importance followed. As Grey went home that night he thought:
"He will be months away. I will be all these months here. Before he can be back she shall be mine. I know it, I feel it. I am not now very nice in the means I employ. She shall be mine before he returns by—some means or other."