The Mystery of Lincoln's Inn Part 26

"I am afraid you're trying to do too much," he observed to Eversleigh, when the latter had recovered. "Now that Mr. Silwood is gone, your work is doubled."

"Oh, I'm all right now; it was just a pa.s.sing weakness," replied Eversleigh. Then he noticed Bennet's letter and glancing from it to Williamson, said, "I must not forget to see about getting the money as soon as possible for Mr. Bennet. I don't suppose there will be much trouble about getting it. But it will take a day or two to arrange."

"In the mean time," asked Williamson, "shall I look out the deeds of the property?"

"No," replied Eversleigh, with a shiver, which he tried to hide successfully; "there will be time enough for that when I have got the advance arranged for."

"Yes, sir; but should not a notice of the sale be drawn up at once, and the matter otherwise put in shape?"

"I am not without hope," said Eversleigh, slowly, "that there may, after all, be no necessity to sell the Mansions. It's a fine property, and it would be a good thing if Mr. Bennet could keep it. A mortgage for the ten thousand may be sufficient. I'll mention that when I write Mr.

Bennet to-day."

Williamson bowed and retired, mutely asking himself what was the particular thing or reason that had so affected his princ.i.p.al as to cause him to faint. Could it be, in any way, he wondered, connected with Bennet? No; on reflection, he thought it could not be that, for Eversleigh's references to the matter had been quite natural. Yet the head-clerk opined there must be some reason.

"I believe," he told himself, after long consideration, "the best course for me to pursue would be to resign and get out of it all."

But he did not resign.

That afternoon Eversleigh wrote Bennet a reply in which he stated the loan Bennet required would doubtless be obtained very soon, but two or three days might elapse before the preliminaries were concluded. Then he expressed the hope that a mortgage on the Mansions for ten thousand pounds might be enough to extricate Bennet from his difficulties, and in that case the sale need not be proceeded with. But if the Mansions must be sold, he trusted plenty of time for advertising would be allowed, otherwise they might have to be disposed of at a considerable sacrifice.

In a word, it was exactly the kind of letter a solicitor who had nothing behind in his mind, would write a client in Bennet's position.

Here, again, Eversleigh was playing for a respite; but here, again, he did not deceive himself--he knew that the end was fast approaching.

The bitterness of death took hold of him. When he went home that evening he scarcely touched any food. As soon as dinner was over, he rose from the table, and, saying he would go out for a walk by the river, left Ivydene. For a long time he paced up and down in a great agony of mind.

Three courses were open to him. One was to go on as long as possible--till the crash came. The second was to file his pet.i.tion in bankruptcy, in which case exposure was inevitable. The third lay before him--in the broad bosom of the river gliding past him; a plunge, and all would be over.

The last, as a final solution of all his difficulties, had a strong attraction. It seemed so easy, and called for so small an effort. There was a fascination in the flowing water, in its softly murmurous motion.

He looked at the river, and then dared not look longer. It seemed to cry to him, "Come to me! come to me!" Then he strode away from it into the high-road; but it drew him back again, for still he heard it calling, calling, "Come to me! come to me!"

Moving out of the shadows of the trees on the terrace, he walked slowly, listening to that sinister voice, while he looked at the dark s.p.a.ces of the water where the river lay in its deepest pools.

But as he walked, still within the shadows, he came upon a pair of lovers, and he stopped to watch them.

The lovers were his son Gilbert and Kitty Thornton.

Their faces looked forward along the path, and they did not see the man standing in the shadows. The girl leaned lightly on Gilbert's arm, and was speaking low and softly to him. As she uttered the words, Gilbert patted the little hand that rested on his arm.

On Kitty's face was something that had not been there a month or two before, and which now imparted to it a touch of gravity. Perhaps her face was just a little sad. And yet she was not feeling sad, for the man in the shadows heard her say--

"Oh, Gilbert, it is good to be in love! Life now would not be worth living without love."

A pa.s.sing boat attracted the attention of the pair, and they stood to observe it. Behind them was Francis Eversleigh.

"I feel as if I could not exist without you now, Gilbert," said the girl, moving on again.

"Nor I without you, darling," answered Gilbert, tenderly.

Then in silence they went on their way.

When they were out of hearing, Francis Eversleigh heaved a great sigh, and followed them with tottering steps. The siren voice of the river had died out from his ears; it called him no longer.

"I must struggle on to the end," he said, and returned to his house.

About noon next day, Bennet, who had pressing reasons for getting at once the ten thousand pounds he had asked for, looked in at 176, New Square, Lincoln's Inn, and requested to see Francis Eversleigh.

"How are you, Harry?" inquired Eversleigh, when he saw him.

Bennet had not seen the other for a considerable time, and he was immensely struck by the altered appearance of the solicitor, so he answered that he was very well, but regretted to notice that Mr.

Eversleigh appeared to be in poor health.

"Well," said Eversleigh; "you have no doubt heard I've had much of a painful nature--Mr. Silwood's death and Mr. Thornton's--to try me recently. I have felt these blows very keenly."

"Of course you would," responded Bennet. "About this money, Mr.

Eversleigh, I am sorry to trouble you, but I must have it at once."

"At once!"

"Yes, to-day if possible."

"It's not possible."

"Then to-morrow. I should like you to push on with the sale of Beauclerk Mansions. I do not desire a mortgage on the property. It must be sold out-right."

"But, Harry----"

"Pray spare me, Mr. Eversleigh. I know you wish to expostulate with me, and I know the kindness which inspires you to do so, but I have quite made up my mind. Can I have the money to-morrow?"

"I'm afraid not, Harry. It's not so very easy to raise so large a sum in a day or two--there are all sorts of formalities, you know."

"It ought not to be difficult, surely. These Kensington properties are first-rate and should find ready purchasers. And Beauclerk Mansions are in the best situation too. I am certain they must be in splendid order, for I never receive complaints now from the tenants. You remember that two or three years ago the tenants often sent me complaints direct instead of writing to you. Well, there has been nothing of the sort for a long while. I know Mr. Silwood was a splendid manager. What a pity it is you lost him! I haven't been near Beauclerk Mansions for many a month--no need, you know, thanks to Mr. Silwood's ability. I am sorry to lose the property, but go it must. I suppose it will realize thirty or forty thousand, won't it?"

"I dare say it will."

"Then an advance of ten thousand should be easy to get."

"Yes, yes," agreed Eversleigh; "but it will take a few days."

"I must have it to-morrow, sir--to-morrow. I cannot wait any further than that."

"Well, I'll do what I can," said Eversleigh, with a choking gasp; "I'll do what I can."

"I'm certain you will be able to manage it," said Bennet, rising and going to the door. There he stopped and turned to Eversleigh. "Do you know," he said; "I think I'll run down on the Underground to High Street, and take a look at Beauclerk Mansions--a last fond look," he added with a grin and disappeared.

At four o'clock in the same day he was back again at Lincoln's Inn, and there was a strange expression on his face as he climbed the stairs to Francis Eversleigh's room.