The Essential Jeffrey Farnol Collection. Jeffrey Farnol. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Jeffrey Farnol
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781456613655
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Gaunt smiled, and shrugged his shoulders slightly.

      "Such clients as this, sir,--I leave entirely to Mr. Quigly."

      "Then, in this instance, sir, you will perhaps favor me by giving the matter your personal attention!"

      Jasper Gaunt hesitated, observed the glowing eye, flushed cheek, and firm-set lips of the speaker, and being wise in men and their ways,--bowed.

      "To oblige you, Mr. Beverley, with pleasure. Though I understand from Mr. Quigly that she is unable to meet--"

      "Seventy-eight pounds, sir! She can pay it all--every blood-stained, tear-soaked farthing. She should meet it were it double--treble the sum!" said Barnabas, opening his purse.

      "Ah, indeed, I see! I see!" nodded Jasper Gaunt. "Take the money, Quigly, I will make out the receipt. If you desire, you shall see me sign it, Mr. Beverley." So saying, he crossed to the desk, wrote the document, and handed it to Barnabas, with a bow that was almost ironical.

      Then Barnabas gave the precious paper into the woman's eager fingers, and looked down into the woman's shining eyes.

      "Sir," said she between trembling lips, "I cannot thank you,--I--I cannot. But God sees, and He will surely repay."

      "Indeed," stammered Barnabas, "I--it was only three pounds, after all, and--there,--go,--hurry away to your husband, and--ah! that reminds me,--he will want help, perhaps!" Here Barnabas took out his card, and thrust it into her hand. "Take that to my house, ask to see my Steward, Mr. Peterby,--stay, I'll write the name for you, he will look after you, and--good-by!"

      "It is a truly pleasant thing to meet with heartfelt gratitude, sir," said Jasper Gaunt, as the door closed behind the woman. "And now I am entirely at your service,--this way, sir."

      Forthwith Barnabas followed him into another room, where sat the Captain, his long legs stretched out before him, his chin on his breast, staring away at vacancy.

      "Sir," said Jasper Gaunt, glancing from Barnabas to the Captain and back again, "he will not trouble us, I think, but if you wish him to withdraw--?"

      "Thank you--no," answered Barnabas, "Captain Slingsby is my friend!" Jasper Gaunt bowed, and seated himself at his desk opposite Barnabas. His face was in shadow, for the blind had been half-drawn to exclude the glare of the afternoon sun, and he sat, or rather lolled, in a low, deeply cushioned chair, studying Barnabas with his eyes that were so bright and so very knowing in the ways of mankind; very still he sat, and very quiet, waiting for Barnabas to begin. Now on the wall, immediately behind him, was a long, keen-bladed dagger, that glittered evilly where the light caught it; and as he sat there so very quiet and still, with his face in the shadow, it seemed to Barnabas as though he lolled there dead, with the dagger smitten sideways through his throat, and in that moment Barnabas fancied he could hear the deliberate tick-tock of the wizen-faced clock upon the stairs.

      "I have come," began Barnabas at last, withdrawing his eyes from the glittering steel with an effort, "I am here on behalf of one--in whom I take an interest--a great interest."

      "Yes, Mr. Beverley?"

      "I have undertaken to--liquidate his debts."

      "Yes, Mr. Beverley."

      "To pay--whatever he may owe, both principal and interest."

      "Indeed, Mr. Beverley! And--his name?"

      "His name is Ronald Barrymaine."

      "Ronald--Barrymaine!" There was a pause between the words, and the smooth, soft voice had suddenly grown so harsh, so deep and vibrant, that it seemed incredible the words could have proceeded from the lips of the motionless figure lolling in the chair with his face in the shadow and the knife glittering behind him.

      "I have made out to you a draft for more than enough, as I judge, to cover Mr. Barrymaine's liabilities."

      "For how much, sir?"

      "Twenty-two thousand pounds."

      Then Jasper Gaunt stirred, sighed, and leaned forward in his chair.

      "A handsome sum, sir,--a very handsome sum, but--" and he smiled and shook his head.

      "Pray what do you mean by 'but'?" demanded Barnabas.

      "That the sum is--inadequate, sir."

      "Twenty-two thousand pounds is not enough then?"

      "It is--not enough, Mr. Beverley."

      "Then, if you will tell me the precise amount, I will make up the deficiency." But, here again, Jasper Gaunt smiled his slow smile and shook his head.

      "That, I grieve to say, is quite impossible, Mr. Beverley."

      "Why?"

      "Because I make it a rule never to divulge my clients' affairs to a third party; and, sir,--I never break my rules."

      "Then--you refuse to tell me?"

      "It is--quite impossible."

      So there fell a silence while the wide, fearless eyes of Youth looked into the narrow, watchful eyes of Experience. Then Barnabas rose, and began to pace to and fro across the luxurious carpet; he walked with his head bent, and the hands behind his back were tightly clenched. Suddenly he stopped, and throwing up his head faced Jasper Gaunt, who sat lolling back in his chair again.

      "I have heard," said he, "that this sum was twenty thousand pounds, but, as you say, it may be more,--a few pounds more, or a few hundreds more."

      "Precisely, Mr. Beverley."

      "I am, therefore, going to make you an offer--"

      "Which I must--refuse."

      "And my offer is this: instead of twenty thousand pounds I will double the sum."

      Jasper Gaunt's lolling figure grew slowly rigid, and leaning across the desk, he stared up at Barnabas under his hairless brows. Even Captain Slingsby stirred and lifted his heavy head.

      "Forty thousand pounds!" said Jasper Gaunt, speaking almost in a whisper.

      "Yes," said Barnabas, and sitting down, he folded his arms a little ostentatiously. Jasper Gaunt's head drooped, and he stared down at the papers on the desk before him, nor did he move, only his long, white fingers began to tap softly upon his chair-arms, one after the other.

      "I will pay you forty thousand pounds," said Barnabas. Then, all in one movement as it seemed, Gaunt had risen and turned to the window, and stood there awhile with his back to the room.

      "Well?" inquired Barnabas at last.

      "I--cannot, sir."

      "You mean--will not!" said Barnabas, clenching his fists.

      "Cannot, sir." As Gaunt turned, Barnabas rose and approached him until barely a yard separated them, until he could look into the eyes that glittered between their hairless lids, very like the cruel-looking dagger on the wall.

      "Very well," said Barnabas, "then I'll treble it. I'll pay you sixty thousand pounds! What do you say? Come--speak!" But now, the eyes so keen and sharp to read men and the ways of men wavered and fell before the indomitable steadfastness of unconquered Youth; the long, white hands beneath their ruffles seemed to writhe with griping, contorted fingers, while upon his temple was something