London's Heart: A Novel

by B. L. Farjeon

He insisted on her lying down, and he sat by her side and watched her. When, presently, she pretended to fall asleep, he knelt by the couch, and, with his face resting on her soft warm hand, prayed with humble heart.

[CHAPTER XLVII.]

FELIX CHECKMATES MR. DAVID SHELDRAKE.

Mr. David Sheldrake, calling at ten o'clock the next morning to see Lily, receives from the landlady a message that the young lady has passed a bad night, and cannot receive him until noon. Somewhat surprised, but compelled to acquiesce in the arrangement, he walks away from the inn, consoling himself with the thoughts that all girls are capricious, and that Lily, having seen how deep was the passion he entertained for her, and having made up her mind to accept him as her lover, was disposed to coquet with him a little. "The bewitching little jade!" he muses. "They like to hold on and off. But I'll soon bring her to the point." He has not been idle during the morning; he has been hunting after Mr. Musgrave, to give him information of Alfred's movements. But Mr. Musgrave has not made his appearance at the Myrtle Inn, and Mr. Sheldrake, although he has been about the neighbourhood making inquiries, has been unsuccessful in finding any trace of him or Alfred. Mr. Sheldrake has settled with himself that this dereliction of duty must not be overlooked. "The old man must go," he thinks: "Ivy Cottage has served its turn. It is getting rather warm there, and Old Muzzy is beginning to know too much." The reflection that Ivy Cottage is getting too warm is not entirely new; certain victims who had been fleeced by Mr. Sheldrake and his agents had been writing threatening letters to him and Con Staveley addressed to Ivy Cottage, and the secret of their connection had in some way leaked out. Now, Mr. Sheldrake does not desire a public exposure; such a thing would be annoying and expensive, perhaps dangerous. He knows well enough that many of his transactions will not bear the light, and that in some instances a boundary line within which roguery can safely trade had been overstepped. He thinks of this during the interval between ten and twelve o'clock, and resolves to go to the cottage that very evening, and destroy all the letters and papers it contains; they are the only evidence against him. At noon he presents himself again at the inn. The landlady informs him that the young lady is up, and will see him. She leads him to the parlour. "We shall be private here?" he says, before he enters. "O yes, sir," the landlady replies, and retires. He sees at a glance that Lily has passed a disturbed night, but she receives him with a singular mixture of composure and nervousness. When he tells her that he has not brought Alfred with him, she does not cry and make a scene, as he anticipated. She is very pale, and she listens, without interrupting him, to the reasons he gives for Alfred's absence.

"It looks as if I had broken faith with you, my dear Lily," he says confidently; "but the fact is, Alfred must keep out of the way until his accounts are squared. The detectives are on the look-out for him, but you and I will be able to pull him through. You see he has made a mess of it all round. He owes me money; he owes a person of the name of Con Staveley money. Of course what he owes me does not matter, but this Con Staveley is a hard nail, and insists on having his money down, or he'll prosecute. Even that wouldn't be so bad; but Alfred has done worse. He has taken money from his office--in plain terms, he has been embezzling the money of his employers--and they are determined not to let him escape. I heard it an hour ago, from the best authority--from one of the detectives, indeed, that I managed to square. So you see how the matter stands."

As yet Lily has not spoken a word, and he pauses here, expecting her to say something. She does not disappoint him.

"Will you tell me exactly, Mr. Sheldrake, how much money Alfred owes?"

"He owes me and Con Staveley about three hundred pounds. In a sort of way, I am friendly with Con Staveley. He is stopping in the town for the races, and hearing I was here, he came to see me. I thought I'd best set to work at once, and I got him to give me an account of the debt. Well, he puts confidence in me, and he not only gave me the figures, but the bills as well, with Alfred's name on them. Here they are." He takes some papers from his pocket, and shows them to her. "I told Con I would pay them."

"And you will?"

"You have but to say the word, and I'll make things straight for Alfred at his office, as well. Lily, do you remember the conversation we had when we came home from the theatre, when that young puppy" (her colour rose here) "interrupted us? I have a right to call him so, for I know what he is made of. Would he do for you what I would do, what I am ready to do this very day? I think not. Think! I am sure not." He strives to read her face, but she has turned from him, and her eyes are towards the ground. "Ah," he thinks, "she knows what is coming;" and says aloud, "The very first night I saw Alfred, I told him I would be his friend for his pretty sister's sake, and I have kept my word. He would have had to cave-in long ago if it hadn't been for me; but again and again, when he was going to the bad, you stepped in and saved him. He knew this all along. He knew that it was for your sake I helped him through his troubles. You sigh! You think he is in a worse trouble to-day than he has ever been before. Well, you are right. I warned him repeatedly; I told him twenty times to pull-up, but he wouldn't listen to me; and still I stuck to him like a man, for his pretty Lily's sake. I can save him now, and will, if you but say the word. To-morrow, this afternoon, in another hour, it may be too late. His fate hangs upon you, and you only. Say but the word, and I'll bring him to your arms again."