The Nether Millstone

by Fred M. White

"Then why on earth didn't he kick me into the street?"

"Who can tell? Perhaps he came back to see how things were before he disclosed himself. At any rate, he has fooled you. Oh, why do you stay here like this, when at this very moment there may be a warrant out for your arrest?"

Vincent Speed, to call him by his proper name, started and changed colour. It seemed hard to lose everything just as the whole world was in his grasp. At any rate, he would not go empty away, he would bluff it a little longer. Let him have a week or so, and then the foe could do as he pleased. It would be an easy matter to raise a vast sum of money on the family estates.

"I can't go back now," he said, "I must carry on the game till I have made it worth while. And it is a strange thing to me if Lady Dashwood knows anything. She is too simple-minded to be able to keep up the deception. She would show it in her manner if she had made the discovery that I am an impostor. She is just the same to me as she ever was. Swells of that sort are not given to conceal their feelings.

"Oh, are they not?" Mrs. Speed said bitterly, "I know better. They can stoop like the rest of us when it suits their book to do so. Well, go your own way, and see what you can do, Vincent. It is just possible that when the time comes, I can find a way to win Lady Dashwood over to our side; at least, I can use her as an advocate for clemency as far as you are concerned."

"What do you mean by that?" Speed asked eagerly.

"I will not tell you," Mrs. Speed said with some show of firmness, "I have let you learn too much already. And the secret is not entirely mine. Now you go your way, and let me hear from you how things are going. But they can only go in one way. Badly as you have used me, bad son as you are, I can't forget that you are my son. It is no fine thing to be a woman----men never suffer as we do."

Vincent Speed went away with a troubled mind and an uneasy feeling that some disaster was hanging over him. The more he thought over the disclosures of the past hour, the more they puzzled him. Well, he would have to struggle on a little longer, until he had a large sum of money at his disposal. He drove down to Bedford Row, where the office of the family solicitors was situated, and sent in his card to the head of the firm. The latter received him with somewhat cold politeness--he would like to know what he could do for Sir Vincent.

Speed went on to explain. But no response came from the clean-shaven man on the far side of the table. Mr. Morley shook his head.

"We can't do it," he said. "In the present circumstances it is impossible. Of course, we have many clients who would be prepared to lend money on the Dashwood property, but we are not yet satisfied as to--er--the legal aspect of your claim. Till that point is cleared up to our satisfaction, we must decline both to arrange the mortgage or even to part with the deeds relating to the property."