First Person Paramount Part 9

"Could you strain a point, Venner, and operate to-morrow night?" asked Dr. Fulton in a pleading voice.

"No, old chap, I can't. You know my rule. I must give myself three days between each, for the sake of my nerve."

"Just for once!"

"Impossible, Fulton. I wonder that you ask me. I have myself to consider as well as the cause. We may succeed or we may not. But I am hanged if I deliberately risk destroying my own health for anything or anyone. I consider that I do quite enough for the cause as it is."

"You do, Venner, you do; but just for once do oblige Marion. She begged me to ask you. You see, the fact is, Cavanagh is cranky."

"d.a.m.n Cavanagh!"

"With all my heart, but then you see, there is Marion. What should we do without her?"

"That is all very well. But what should we do without me!"

"The poor girl is half out of her mind worrying about Cavanagh. He has not even had the grace to come here all day, though he promised."

"He is an infernal young cad!"

"I think so too, but it does not mend matters. The girl is crazily in love with him, and she thinks he will kill himself, if we can't do something for him soon."

"Puppy!" The tone was bitterly contemptuous. Sir Charles seemed to hesitate. "Look here, Fulton," he proceeded, "I am sorry for Marion, of course; nevertheless, I cannot help her. Tell her I am out of sorts, or make any other excuse you like. I shall not operate until Tuesday evening. Good-night to you!"

"One second, Venner, She begged me, if you refused her first request, to ask leave for Cavanagh to be present at the operation. You'll have no objection to that I suppose!"

"Oh! curse the fellow," exclaimed Sir Charles very irritably. "He becomes the bane of my existence. If we admit him to the room, we are bound to have a scene. He will either faint or do something equally idiotic. You know very well that the least interruption may play the devil with my knife."

"She has pledged his good behaviour, Venner. Besides, I'll promise to look after him. Come, come, old chap, don't send me back to her quite empty-handed."

"The consequences must be upon your own head then."

"Thank you, Venner, you are a good fellow! Good-night!"

"I am, on the contrary, a soft-hearted fool. Good-night!"

They parted, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

When the silence had resumed itself, I stole through the plantation to the gate, whence, after carefully fixing the locale of the hospital in my mind, I made a speedy return to civilization, and an hour later I was discussing a hearty meal in a private room at Jack Straw's Castle.

IV

THE OPERATION

Tuesday arrived before I knew quite what to do. On that particular morning the postman handed me, amongst a sheaf of bills and circulars, a letter sealed with a peculiar signet, addressed like the others to my master. As it wanted an hour to Sir William's waking time, I had plenty of leisure to investigate its contents. It puzzles me how any people can be foolish enough to imagine that a mere dab of wax, however cunningly impressed, can confer security upon their correspondence. In two minutes the seal was lying safe and uninjured upon my pantry table, and the detached envelope rested confidingly across the mouth of a bowl of boiling water. The letter ran as follows: "My dear Dagmar,--Whoever the rascal really is who imposed upon Cavanagh and myself on a recent memorable evening, he lied in declaring himself an emissary of the police. I have just succeeded in establishing this fact, and take the earliest opportunity of rea.s.suring you, while allowing detailed explanations to await until we meet. I have no longer any doubt but that our adversary is a blackmailer, and I feel sure that before long one or other of us will be approached. I sincerely trust that the fellow will turn out, as you suspected, to be your scapegrace nephew.

In that case you, of course, must deal with him, but in any other event I am convinced that our best course will be to prosecute. This will notify you that I intend to propose such a resolution at our next conclave.--Yours sincerely, Charles Venner.

"P.S.--If you can, see Cavanagh to-day. I have been weak enough to permit him to witness the operation. It is possible that you may dissuade him.--C.V."

I carefully resealed the letter, and pressed the envelope with a heated flat-iron in order to remove all traces of my manipulations. All the time I was in a whirl of thought. For three days I had been wondering how I might get a footing inside the hospital and witness the operation which Mr. Cavanagh had extorted a privilege to see. After reading Sir Charles Venner's letter I was more anxious than ever to do so, but the more determined I became the less hopeful seemed my prospects. If Mr.

Cavanagh had been a bigger man I believe I should have resorted to some desperate expedient to get him out of the way, so that I might take his place. Unhappily for me, however, he lacked full two inches of my stature, and I dared not attempt to impersonate him under the brilliant light which must necessarily pervade a surgeon's operating-room. I solved the problem that was troubling me, while preparing my master's breakfast, and when I proceeded to his room and handed him his letters, I knew exactly what to do. Sir William Dagmar had a scapegrace nephew--well, his scapegraceship should be my scapegoat. It is true that part of Dr. Venner's letter put the idea into my mind. I do not pretend to pose as a superhumanly clever person, but I am not without talent, and my genius is in my power to twist every accident to my own advantage.

It was my master's custom to dispose of his correspondence while I prepared his bath after awaking him. As I re-entered his bed-chamber to announce his bath ready, I found him standing before the fireplace in his dressing-gown, watching the trans.m.u.tation of Sir Charles Venner's missive into ashes in the grate.

"Your pardon, sir," I murmured softly. "About a fortnight ago you commanded me to immediately inform you if any stranger should venture to question me concerning your affairs."

He swung round on the instant and faced me, his lids narrowed over his eyes, and his lips compressed in a hard straight line.

"Well!" he grated. "Well!"

"This morning, sir, about two hours ago, a man came here and asked to see you----"

"His name?" he interrupted harshly.

"He would not give his name, sir, and for that reason I took the liberty of refusing to admit him."

"You did well, Brown. What had he to say?"

"He left a message for you, sir. He asked me to tell you that Mr.

Sefton Dagmar wished you to meet him alone on the railway station at Newhaven, at nine o'clock to-night precisely." b.u.t.ts had told me that Sefton Dagmar lived at Newhaven. One of my greatest natural endowments is an almost perfect memory.

My master's eyes glistened and his cheeks flushed. "Oh, indeed!" he muttered. "Anything else, Brown?"

"Y--yes, sir!" I lowered my eyes and tried to look abashed.

"I--I--scarcely like to tell you, sir," I stammered; "the messenger was--most--im--most impertinent, sir."

"Never mind, Brown; tell me exactly what he said."

"He declared, sir, that if you did not keep the appointment, you'd have leisure to repent your foolishness in gaol!"

"What!" he thundered, and threatened me with his clenched hands. His face went purple, then pale as death, but his eyes glowed like coals.

"I'm sure I beg your pardon, sir," I muttered, stepping back quickly and affecting to be terrified. "You--you made me tell you, sir."

With a great and manifest effort my master recovered his composure. He even contrived to smile. "I--I--you must forgive me, Brown," he muttered. "I--I could not for a moment conceive that--that my nephew would dare to send me such a message. Mr. Sefton Dagmar is my nephew, Brown, and I am sorry to say that----"

I raised my hand and quickly interrupted him. "Please, don't say any more, sir," I cried in tones of deep respect. "I am your servant, sir, and I hope I know my place. When you know me better, sir, you will find that I am not one of the prying sort, who is always trying to hear more than he should. It's likely that in your anger now you'd be telling me something that you'd afterwards regret, and if you'll forgive me for speaking plainly, sir, I like you too much, and I'm too happy in your service to want to risk losing your confidence and my place together!

Such a thing has happened to me before, sir, and without my seeking either."

Sir William Dagmar was the most surprised looking man in the world at that moment. He seemed to have forgotten everything, but the enigma before him, and he stared at me as if he wished to read into my soul.

"Have you no curiosity?" he demanded at last.

"None that I can't control, sir," I replied respectfully.