The Town Traveller Part 33

When you have thought about it I am sure you will forgive this weakness in me. It need not affect our friendship."

"Wait a bit. There's another question I want to ask. What had Lord Polperro to do with the Quodlings?"

"The Quodlings? Ah! I grieve to tell you that Francis Quodling, an illegitimate half-brother of our friend, had of late given trouble to his lordship. Francis Quodling has long been in Queer Street; he seemed to think that he had a claim--a natural claim, I might say--on Lord Polperro. When you first met his lordship he had been seeing the other Quodling on this matter. Pure kindness of heart--he was very kind-hearted. He wanted to heal a breach between the brothers, and, if possible, to get Francis a partnership in the firm--your firm. I fear he exerted himself vainly."

"Greenacre!" exclaimed the man of commerce, thumping the table. "It's beastly hard lines that that woman and her daughter shouldn't have a penny!"

"I agree with you. By the by, you have told her?"

"Yes, this morning."

"Gammon, you are so impulsive. Still, I suppose she had to know. Yes, I suppose it was inevitable. Will she molest his relatives do you think?"

"She?" Gammon reflected. "I can't quite see her doing it. She may be a bit angry, but--no, I don't think she'll bother anybody. I can't see her doing it."

And still he meditated.

"You reserve to yourself; I presume, the duty of acquainting her with these painful facts?"

"Me tell her? Why, I suppose I must if it comes to that. But--I'm hanged if I shall enjoy it. Who else knows? Jorrocks! there's Polly.

I'd forgotten Polly!"

Gammon grew perplexed in mind and shadowed in countenance. Of a truth Polly Sparkes had not once entered his mind since he saw her yesterday.

But he must see her again, and that to-night. Whew! He would now have given a substantial sum to deprive Polly of the knowledge he had so recklessly confided to her.

"You are impulsive, my friend," remarked the other, quietly amused.

"Impulsive and lacking in foresight."

"And you--Never mind; I won't say it. Still, you used to be a puzzle to me, Greenacre; now I feel as if I was beginning to understand you a bit."

The man of foresight--he was remarkably well-dressed this evening--watched the smoke from his cigarette and smiled.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE TRAVELLER'S FICKLENESS AND FRAUD

In due course a coroner and his jury sat on the body of Lord Polperro; in the order of things this inquest was publicly reported.

Readers of newspapers learnt that the eccentric n.o.bleman, though in a weak state of health, had the indiscretion to mingle with a crowd on New Year's Eve; that he either accidentally fell or was knocked down by some person unknown in the rough-and-tumble of the hour; in short, that his death might fairly be accounted for by misadventure. The results of the autopsy were not made known in detail, but a professional whisper went about that among the causes contributory to Lord Polperro's death were congestion of the lungs, softening of the brain, chronic inflammation of the stomach, drunkard's liver, and Bright's disease of the kidneys.

The unprofessional persons who came forward were Mr. Gammon, Lord Polperro's housekeeper, and Miss Trefoyle. The name of Greenacre was not so much as mentioned; the existence of a lady named Mrs. Clover remained unknown to court and public.

On the following day Mr. Gammon had a private interview with Miss Trefoyle. He was aware that this privilege had already been sought by and granted to Mr. Greenacre, and as his one great object was to avert shame and sorrow from his friends at Battersea Park, Gammon acquitted himself with entire discretion; that is to say, he did not allow Miss Trefoyle to suspect that there had been anything between him and her brother except a sort of boon companionship. In behaving thus he knew that he was acting as Mrs. Clover most earnestly desired. Not many hours before he had discharged what he felt to be his duty, had made known to Mrs. Clover the facts of her position, and had heard the unforgettable accent of her voice as she entreated him to keep this secret. That there might be no doubt as to the truth of Greenacre's a.s.sertions he had accompanied that gentleman to Somerset House, and had perused certain entries in the registers of marriage and of death indicated to him by his friend's forefinger; clearly then, if he and Greenacre kept silence, it would never become known, even to Polperro's kinsfolk, that his lordship had been guilty of bigamy.

Stay! one other person knew the true name of Mrs. Clover's husband--Polly Sparkes.

"Polly be hanged," muttered Gammon.

"When is the wedding?" Greenacre inquired casually in one of their conversations.

"Wedding? Whose wedding?"

"Why, yours."

Gammon's face darkened. A change had come about in his emotions. He was afraid of Polly, he was weary of Polly, he heartily wished he had never seen Polly's face. For self-scrutiny Gammon had little inclination and less apt.i.tude; he could not have explained the origin and progress of his nearer relations with Miss Sparkes. Going straight to the point, like a man of business, he merely knew that he had made a condemnable mistake, and the question was how to put things right.

"There's one bit of luck," he remarked, instead of answering the inquiry, "she isn't on speaking terms with her aunt."

"I'm rather glad to hear that. But do you think she'll hold out against her curiosity?"

"In any case she won't learn anything from Mrs. Clover. I'm pretty sure of that."

"I can only hope you're right about Mrs. Clover," said Greenacre musingly. "If so, she must be a rather uncommon sort of woman, especially--if you will excuse the remark--in that cla.s.s."

"She is," replied Gammon with noteworthy emphasis. "I don't know a woman like her--no one like her. I wouldn't mind betting all I have that she'll never speak a word as long as she lives about that man.

She'll never tell her daughter. Minnie will suppose that her father turned up somehow just for a few hours and then went off again for good and all."

"Remarkable woman," murmured Greenacre. "It saves trouble, of course."

Possibly he was reflecting whether it might be to his advantage or not to reveal this little matter in Stanhope Gardens. Perhaps it seemed to him on the whole that he had done wisely in making known to Miss Trefoyle only the one marriage (which she might publish or not as her conscience dictated), and that his store of private knowledge was the richer by a detail he might or might not some day utilize. For Mr.

Greenacre had a delicacy of his own. He did not merely aim at sordid profits. In avowing his weakness for aristocratic companionship he told a truth which explained many singularities in what would otherwise have been a career of commonplace dishonesty.

"I suppose she must be told," said Gammon with bent head. "Polly, I mean."

"Miss Sparkes is a young lady of an inquiring spirit. She will want to know why she does not benefit by Lord Polperro's death."

"You told her yourself about the will, remember."

"I did. As things turn out it was a pity. By the by, I should like to have seen that doc.u.ment. As Cuthbertson has no knowledge of it, our deceased friend no doubt drafted it himself. More likely than not it would have been both amusing and profitable to the lawyers, like his father's in the days of our youth. I wonder whether he called Mrs.

Clover his wife? We shall never solve all these interesting doubts."

"I had better not let Polly know he burnt it," remarked Gammon.

"Why, no; I shouldn't advise that," said the other with a smile. "But I have heard that married men--"

"Shut up! I'm not going to marry her."

Driven to this bold declaration, Gammon at once felt such great relief that he dared everything.

"Then there'll be the devil to pay," said Greenacre.

"Wait a bit. Of course I shall take my time about breaking off."

"Gammon, I am surprised and shocked--not for the first time--at your utter want of principle."