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

Автор: George W. M. Reynolds
Издательство: Bookwire
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a sudden like this?" exclaimed Sir Rupert.

      "I am sure I am not aware of your private resources, my good sir," answered Greenwood, coolly. "You must be well aware that I cannot afford to remain without my money in this manner; and since it would appear you do not wish Lord Tremordyn to know that you have not paid the acceptance which he so kindly lent you—"

      "Lent me!" ejaculated Sir Rupert, now really alarmed.

      "Of course. He could not possibly have owed you the amount."

      "Greenwood, what do you mean by this?" cried the baronet. "Upon my honour, one would almost suppose that you had forgotten the real nature of the transaction."

      "Possibly I may not recall to mind some of the minor details. One thing is, however, certain: I have in my possession a bill bearing your endorsement and accepted by Lord Tremordyn, for sixteen hundred pounds; and I offer you the most easy terms I can think of for its payment."

      "Greenwood, you cannot have forgotten—"

      "Forgotten what?"

      "Forgotten that the acceptance—"

      "Well?"

      "Is not Lord Tremordyn's."

      "The acceptance not Lord Tremordyn's!" cried Mr. Greenwood, affecting to be quite confounded by this statement.

      "Certainly not," answered the baronet. "You yourself suggested to me—"

      "I suggested!" cried Greenwood, now pretending indignation. "Sir Rupert Harborough, what are you aiming at? to what point would you arrive?"

      "Oh! if I were not in the power of this man!" thought the baronet, actually grinding his teeth with rage; but suppressing his feelings, he said, "My dear Greenwood, pray renew this bill for four months more, and it shall be paid at maturity."

      "No, Sir Rupert Harborough," replied the capitalist, who had not failed to notice the emotions of concentrated rage which filled the mind of the baronet. "I am decided: give me six hundred pounds, and I renew for the thousand; otherwise—"

      "Otherwise," repeated Sir Rupert mechanically.

      "I shall pay the bill into my banker's this afternoon, and it will be presented for payment at Lord Tremordyn's agent's to-morrow morning."

      "You would not wish to ruin me, Greenwood!"

      "Such a course will not ruin you: Lord Tremordyn will of course honour his acceptance."

      "Greenwood, you drive me mad!"

      "I am really very sorry to hear it; but if every one who could not meet his bills were driven mad by being asked for payment of them, every third house in the street would become a lunatic-asylum."

      "You can spare your raillery, Mr. Greenwood," said the baronet. "Do you wish to have me transported?"

      "Certainly not. I want a proper settlement in this respect."

      "And how can I settle the bill? Where am I to procure six hundred pounds at a moment's warning?"

      "A moment's warning! you have had four clear months."

      "But I fancied—I hoped you would renew the bill from time to time until I could pay it. You said as much when you lent me the money upon it."

      "I don't recollect."

      "You did indeed; and upon the faith of that promise, I—"

      "I don't recollect."

      "My God! what am I to do?" cried Sir Rupert, despairingly. "I have no means of raising half the sum you require."

      "Then why did you take my money seven months ago?"

      "Why did I take the money? why did I take it? Because you yourself proposed the transaction. You said, 'Bring me the acceptance of Lord Tremordyn for fifteen hundred pounds, and I will lend you a thousand upon it immediately.'"

      "I don't recollect."

      "And you said emphatically and distinctly that you should not call upon Lord Tremordyn to inquire if it were his acceptance."

      "Of course not. Amongst gentlemen such a proceeding would be unpardonable."

      "Oh! Greenwood, you affect ignorance in all this! and yet it was you who put the infernal idea into my head—"

      "Sir Rupert Harborough," said the capitalist, rising from his chair; "enough of this! I put no infernal ideas into any one's head. Settle the bill in the way I propose; or it shall take its course."

      "But—my God! you will send me to the Old Bailey!" cried the baronet, whose countenance was actually livid with rage and alarm.

      "And did you not send Richard Markham thither?" said Greenwood, fixing his piercing dark eyes upon Sir Rupert Harborough in so strange a manner that the unhappy man shrank from that fearful glance.

      "But what matters that to you?" cried the baronet. "In one word, will you ruin me? or will you give me time to pay this accursed bill?"

      "I have stated my conditions: I will not depart from them," replied Greenwood in a determined manner. "You have plenty of time before you. I will keep the bill back until to-morrow morning at twelve o'clock."

      "Very good, sir," said the baronet, scarcely able to repress his rage.

      Sir Rupert Harborough then withdrew, a prey to feelings more easily imagined than described.

      "Why should I allow this gambler to retain my money without even paying me the interest?" said Greenwood to himself, when he was again alone. "I can keep him in my power as well with a forged bill for a thousand, as for sixteen hundred pounds. As for his wife, the beautiful Cecilia—I am now wearied of that intrigue, which, moreover, becomes too expensive! Lady Cecilia's extravagance is unbounded. I must put an end to that connexion without delay!"

      Lafleur entered the room at this moment, and said, "A female, sir, desires to see you upon particular business."

      "Is it anybody whom you know?"

      Lafleur replied in the negative.

      "Never mind! I will see her," said Greenwood; and, unaware who she might be, he seated himself at his writing-table, where he appeared to be profoundly occupied with some deeds that were lying before him.

      In a few moments Marian entered the room.

      "Well, my good woman, what is the object of your call?" demanded Greenwood.

      "I am the bearer of a letter, sir, from Miss Monroe," was the reply.

      "From Miss Monroe!" ejaculated Greenwood; and he hastened to peruse the letter which the servant placed in his hand.

      Its contents ran thus:—

      "You are the father of a boy. The excellent woman who bears this will explain every thing to you. I should not recall myself to your memory—if you have forgotten the mother of your child—did not a sacred duty towards the female whom I have above alluded to, and towards the helpless infant who perhaps will never know a parent's care, compel me thus to address you. The kind woman who will give you this, expended forty pounds—all her little savings—to save me from disgrace. The surgeon to whose care the child is entrusted, must receive a small allowance for its support. If you ever entertained one generous feeling towards me, relieve my mind on these two subjects.

      "ELLEN MONROE."

      For some minutes Mr. Greenwood appeared to be absorbed in thought.

      He then questioned Marian relative to the particulars of Ellen's accouchement; and she detailed to him every particular with which the reader is already acquainted.

      "You managed the matter admirably," said Greenwood. "There are two points to which Miss Monroe directs my attention in this note. In the first