I do not know how late Tom Wealdon and Stanley Lake sat up over their lists; but I dare say they were in no hurry to leave them, for a dissolution was just then expected, and no time was to be lost.
When I saw Tom Wealdon alone next day in the street of Gylingden, he walked a little way with me, and, said Tom, with a grave wink—
'Don't let the captain up there be hard on the poor old gentleman. He's quite harmless—he would not hurt a fly. I know all about him; for Jack Ford and I spent five weeks in the Hall, about twelve years ago, when the family were away and thought the keeper was not kind to him. He's quite gentle, and sometimes he'd make you die o' laughing. He fancies, you know, he's a prophet; and says he's that old Sir Lorne Brandon that shot himself in his bed-room. Well, he is a rum one; and we used to draw him out—poor Jack and me. I never laughed so much, I don't think, in the same time, before or since. But he's as innocent as a child—and you know them directions in the will is very strong; and they say Jos. Larkin does not like the captain a bit too well—and he has the will off, every word of it; and I think, if Captain Lake does not take care, he may get into trouble; and maybe it would not be amiss if you gave him a hint.'
Tom Wealdon, indeed, was a good-natured fellow: and if he had had his way, I think the world would have gone smoothly enough with most people.
CHAPTER XLIX.
LARCOM, THE BUTLER, VISITS THE ATTORNEY.
Now I may as well mention here an occurrence which, seeming very insignificant, has yet a bearing upon the current of this tale, and it is this. About four days after the receipt of the despatches to which the conference of Captain Lake and the attorney referred, there came a letter from the same prolific correspondent, dated 20th March, from Genoa, which altogether puzzled Mr. Larkin. It commenced thus:—
'Genoa: 20th march.
'DEAR LARKIN,—I hope you did the three commissions all right. Wealdon won't refuse, I reckon—but don't let Lake guess what the 150_l._ is for. Pay Martin for the job when finished; it is under 60_l._. mind; and get it looked at first.'
There was a great deal more, but these were the passages which perplexed Larkin. He unlocked the iron safe, and took out the sheaf of Wylder's letters, and conned the last one over very carefully.