The Vast Abyss Part 82

Sam interrupted him.

"Try that then," he said.

But again his father tossed the paper away with an angry e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, while his face grew more haggard and anxious-looking.

"That's it then," said Tom. "I had to grab them in a hurry, and get away."

"That is not the packet," cried his father. "There were four deeds tied up with green silk ribbon. I explained to you exactly what they were like. Surely you had more common-sense than to think these things were what I wanted!"

"Don't I tell you I had to take them in a hurry?" said Sam, smiling at his father's anxious face, as he kept one hand still in his breast, and now with a triumphant air flourished out a great cartridge paper envelope. "There," he cried; "will that do then?"

"No, no, no," said James Brandon angrily; "four deeds tied up with green silk ribbon, I tell you;" and he waved the thick envelope aside, but Sam still held it out.

"Don't you be in such a hurry, gov'nor," he cried. "That's the packet, only perhaps the old man put the deeds in the envelope. Look inside."

Sam's father s.n.a.t.c.hed the packet from his son's hand, dragged out its contents, which were tied together with green ribbon indeed, and proved to be written in a round legal hand; but as he read the endors.e.m.e.nts one by one, he threw them contemptuously down with a groan.

"What, ain't those right?" cried the lad, speaking anxiously now.

"Right? No," cried his father. "There, I see you are playing with me.

Where is the right packet?"

"Right? The right packet? I made sure that was it. I opened that old bureau of his, and these deeds and things were all together."

"Oh, Sam! Sam!" groaned his father.

"It was quite dark, you know, and I had to work by feel till I got the drawers open, and then I lit a match or two, so as to make sure which was the packet I wanted. There were the four things together tied up with green silk ribbon, and I had no time to read them even if I'd wanted to; but I felt so sure it was not necessary."

"It was madness. You ought to have looked carefully," said James Brandon.

"Yes; that sounds all right, but it's a wonder I got them. I only just had time to stuff them into my pocket when he came, and then--"

"He came! Who came?" cried James Brandon.

"Tom; and a pretty fight I had for it before I could get away."

"Then he caught you steal--caught you seeking for those papers?" cried James Brandon wildly.

"Of course he did; I told you so."

"Then it's all over. He has told your uncle by this time."

"Not he. How could he know? Didn't I tell you it was dark as pitch?"

"What? Then you think he does not know who it was?" cried James Brandon, with the air of a man catching at a straw to save himself.

"Sure of it," said Sam coolly, as he opened one of the papers and began reading--"'Instructions for grinding and polishing specula.'"

He opened another.

"'The various modes of mounting telescopes.'"

Throwing this down, he took up a third paper, and read--

"'Elutriation as applied to Emery and other Powders.'"

Lastly he took up the fourth, and read half to himself--

"'The method practised by Monsieur Foucault in silvering the surfaces of gla.s.s specula.' I seem to have dipped into the wrong drawer, dad," he said coolly.

James Brandon groaned.

"I made so sure that I had got the right things. They do look like legal papers, don't they?"

Sam's father made no reply, but began walking up and down the room.

"What does he mean by tying up his stupid recipes like that!" said Sam angrily.

"Exposed yourself to all that risk, and for nothing," cried James Brandon.

"Don't say 'yourself,' dad," cried Sam softly. "It was your doing; you sent me."

James Brandon was silent for a time.

"You are sure he did not know you?" he said at last.

"Of course I am. Don't I tell you it was dark as pitch?"

"Then how do you know it was Tom who came?"

"Who else was likely to come?"

"Of course--of course," murmured James Brandon; "who indeed?"

"Besides, that other chap was outside, and helped me with the ladder."

James Brandon gave quite a jump.

"That other chap?" he cried. "You don't mean to say any one else saw you?"

"Yes, a fellow I saw when I was down there before; he came and caught me trying to get in."

James Brandon threw out his hands, and walked up and down his son's bedroom gesticulating.

"It's all over," he cried wildly; "it's all over. I'm a ruined man. My position as a solicitor gone; my character destroyed; the money I had saved swept away; and all through the stupidity of my own son."

Sam sat back watching his father curiously, as he paced about the place, addressing, as it seemed to him, the walls, the windows, and at times the pieces of furniture. He repeated the same things over and over again as he bemoaned his ill-fortune, and the way in which his plans had been brought to naught. Reproach after reproach was piled upon Sam, but the father did not glance at his son, who still watched him, but with eyes that grew fixed and dull-looking, till all at once the lids began to fall, opened up again, fell lower, opened again, and then went right down, and were not raised.