The Mysteries of London. George W. M. Reynolds. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: George W. M. Reynolds
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person, sir, who declines to give his name," said the valet, "solicits an interview for a few minutes."

      "What sort of a looking person is he?"

      "Very pale and sallow; about the middle height; genteel in appearance; respectably clad; and I should say about forty years of age."

      "I do not recollect such a person. Show him up."

      Lafleur withdrew, and presently introduced Stephens.

      For a few moments Greenwood surveyed him in a manner as if he were trying to recollect to whom that pale and altered countenance belonged; for although Stephens had made considerable improvement in his attire, thanks to the contents of Eliza's purse, he still retained upon his features the traces of great suffering, mental and bodily.

      "You do not know me?" he said, with a sickly smile.

      "Stephens! is it possible?" exclaimed Greenwood, in an accent of the most profound surprise.

      "Yes—it is I! No wonder that you did not immediately recognise me: were I not fearfully altered I should not dare thus to venture abroad by daylight."

      "Ah! I understand. You have escaped?"

      "I have returned from transportation. That is the exact truth. Had it not been for an angel in human shape, I should have died last night of starvation. That generous being who relieved me was Eliza Sydney."

      "Eliza Sydney!" cried Greenwood. "She received you with kindness?"

      "She gave me food, and money to obtain clothes and lodging. She moreover promised to supply me with the means to reach America. I am to return to her this evening, and receive a certain sum for that purpose."

      "And she told you that I was residing here?" said Greenwood inquiringly.

      "Yes. I thought that you might be enabled to assist me in my object of commencing the world anew in another quarter of the globe. I shall arrive there with but little money and no friends;—perhaps you can procure me letters of introduction to merchants in New York."

      "I think I can assist you," said Greenwood, musing upon a scheme which he was revolving in his mind, and which was as yet only a few minutes old: "yes—I think I can. But, would it not be better for you to take out a few hundred pounds in your pocket? How can you begin any business in the States without capital?"

      "Show me the way to procure those few hundreds," said Stephens, "and I would hold myself ever your debtor."

      "And perhaps you would not be very particular as to the way in which you obtained such a sum?" demanded Greenwood, surveying the returned convict in a peculiar manner.

      "My condition is too desperate to allow me to stick at trifles," answered Stephens, not shrinking from a glance which seemed to penetrate into his very soul.

      "We understand each other," said Greenwood. "I have money—and you want money: you are a returned transport, and in my power. I can serve and save you; or I can ruin and crush you for ever."

      "You speak candidly, at all events," observed Stephens, somewhat bitterly. "Try promises first; and should they fail, essay threats."

      "I merely wished you to comprehend your true position with regard to me," said Greenwood, coolly.

      "And now I understand it but too well. You require of me some service of a certain nature—no matter what: in a word, I agree to the bargain."

      "The business regards Eliza Sydney," proceeded Greenwood.

      "Eliza Sydney!" exclaimed Stephens, in dismay.

      "Yes; I love her—and she detests me. I must therefore gratify two passions at the same moment—vengeance and desire."

      "Impossible!" cried Stephens. "You can never accomplish your schemes through my agency!"

      "Very good:" and Mr. Greenwood moved towards the bell.

      "What would you do?" demanded Stephens, in alarm.

      "Summon my servants to hand a returned convict over to justice," answered Greenwood, coolly.

      "Villain! you could not do it!"

      "I will do it:" and Greenwood placed his hand upon the bell-rope.

      "Oh! no—no—that must not be!" exclaimed Stephens. "Speak—I will do your bidding."

      Mr. Greenwood returned to his seat.

      "I must possess Eliza Sydney—and you must be the instrument," he said in his usual calm and measured tone. "You are to return to her this evening?"

      "I am. But I implore you—"

      "Silence! This evening I am engaged—and to-morrow evening also. The day after to-morrow I shall be at liberty. You will invent some excuse which will enable you to postpone your departure; and you will contrive to pass the evening after to-morrow with Eliza Sydney. Can you do this?"

      "I can, no doubt: but, again, I beg—"

      "No more of this nonsense! You will adopt some means to get her faithful servant Louisa out of the way; and you will open the front-door of the villa to me at midnight on the evening appointed."

      "You never can effect your purpose!" cried Stephens emphatically. "Were you to introduce yourself to her chamber, she would sooner die herself, or slay you, than submit to your purpose!"

      "She must sleep—sleep profoundly!" said Greenwood, sinking his voice almost to a whisper, and regarding his companion in a significant manner.

      "My God! what an atrocity!" ejaculated Stephens, with horror depicted upon his countenance.

      "Perhaps you prefer a return to the horrors of transportation—the miseries of Norfolk Island?" said Greenwood satirically.

      "No—death, sooner!" cried Stephens, striking the palm of his right hand against his forehead.

      Greenwood approached him, and whispered for some time in his ear. Stephens listened in silence; and when the libertine had done, he signified a reluctant assent by means of a slight nod.

      "You understand how you are to act?" said Greenwood aloud.

      "Perfectly," answered Stephens.

      He then took his departure.

      Scarcely had he left the house when Sir Rupert Harborough returned.

      The baronet was deadly pale, and trembled violently. Greenwood affected not to observe his emotions, but received the bill of exchange which the baronet handed to him, with as much coolnessas if he were concluding a perfectly legitimate transaction.

      Having read the document, he handed a pen to the baronet to endorse it.

      Sir Rupert affixed his name at the back of the forged instrument with a species of desperate resolution.

      Mr. Greenwood consigned the bill to his desk, and then wrote a cheque for a thousand pounds, which he handed to the baronet.

      Thus terminated this transaction.

      When the baronet had taken his departure, Mr. Greenwood summoned Lafleur, and said, "You need not institute any inquiries relative to Miss Sydney, at Upper Clapton. My orders relative to Mr. Markham remain unchanged; and mind that the fellow known as Tom the Cracksman is here to-morrow evening at nine o'clock."

      Mr. Greenwood having thus concluded his morning's business, partook of an elegant luncheon, and then proceeded to dress for his afternoon's ride in the Park.

       THE DOCUMENT.

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      THE more civilization progresses, and the more refined becomes the human intellect, so does human iniquity