'How d'ye do, Mrs. Dutton? Quite well. Have you heard lately from Jim?'
'No.'
'You'll see him soon, however, and give him this note, d'ye see, and tell him I was here, asking about you and him, and very well, and glad if I can serve him again? don't forget that, very glad. Where will you keep that note? Oh! your tea-caddy, not a bad safe; and see, give him this, it's ten pounds. You won't forget; and you want a new gown, Mrs. Dutton. I'd choose it thyself, only I'm such a bad judge; but you'll choose it for me, won't you? and let me see it on you when next I come,' and with a courtesy and a great beaming smile on her hot face, she accepted the five-pound note, which he placed in her hand.
In another moment the captain was gone. He had just time to swallow a cup of coffee at the 'Terminus Hotel,' and was gliding away towards the distant walls of Brandon Hall.
He had a coupé all to himself. But he did not care for the prospect. He saw Lawyer Larkin, as it were, reflected in the plate-glass, with his hollow smile and hungry eyes before him, knowing more than he should do, paying him compliments, and plotting his ruin.
'Everything would have been quite smooth only for that d—— fellow. The Devil fixed him precisely there for the express purpose of fleecing and watching, and threatening him—perhaps worse. He hated that sly, double-dealing reptile of prey—the arachnida of social nature—the spiders with which also naturalists place the scorpions. I dare say Mr. Larkin would have had as little difficulty in referring the gallant captain to the same family.
While Stanley Lake is thus scanning the shabby, but dangerous image of the attorney in the magic mirror before him, that eminent limb of the law was not inactive in the quiet town of Gylingden. Under ordinary circumstances his 'pride' would have condemned the vicar to a direful term of suspense, and he certainly would not have knocked at the door of the pretty little gabled house at the Dollington end of the town for many days to come. The vicar would have had to seek out the attorney, to lie in wait for and to woo him.
But Jos. Larkin's pride, like all his other passions—except his weakness for the precious metals—was under proper regulation. Jim Dutton might arrive at any moment, and it would not do to risk his publishing the melancholy intelligence of Mark Wylder's death before the transfer of the vicar's reversion; and to prevent that risk the utmost promptitude was indispensable.
At nine o'clock, therefore, he presented himself, attended by his legal henchmen as before.
'Another man might not have come here, Mr. Wylder, until his presence had been specially invited, after the—the——' when he came to define the offence it was not very easy to do so, inasmuch as it consisted in the vicar's having unconsciously very nearly escaped from his fangs; 'but let that pass. I have had, I grieve to say, by this morning's post a most serious letter from London;' the attorney shook his head, while searching his pocket. 'I'll read just a passage or two if you'll permit me; it comes from Burlington and Smith. I protest I have forgot it at home; however, I may mention, that in consequence of the letter you authorised me to write, and guaranteed by your bond, on which they have entered judgment, they have gone to the entire expense of drawing the deeds, and investigating title, and they say that the purchaser will positively be off, unless the articles are in their office by twelve o'clock to-morrow; and, I grieve to say, they add, that in the event of the thing falling through, they will issue execution for the amount of their costs, which, as I anticipated, a good deal exceeds four hundred pounds. I have, therefore, my dear Mr. Wylder, casting aside all unpleasant feeling, called to entreat you to end and determine any hesitation you may have felt, and to execute without one moment's delay the articles which are prepared, and which must be in the post-office within half an hour.'