The Mississippi Bubble Part 11

The jailer was a man not devoid of wisdom. Fine clothes sometimes went with a long purse, and a long purge might do wonders to help the comfort of any prisoner in London, as well as the comfort of his keeper. Truly his eyes opened wide as he saw the contents of the box. He felt the lapel of the coat, pa.s.sing it approvingly between his thumb and finger.

"Well, e'en set ye down the box, lad," said he, "and wait till I see where Mr. Law has gone. Hum, hum! What saith the record? Charged that said prisoner did kill--hum, hum! Taken of said John Law six sovereigns, three s.h.i.+llings and sixpence. Item, one snuff-box, gilt. Hour of admission, five o'clock of the afternoon. We shall see, we shall see."

"Sir," said the jailer, approaching the prisoner and his brother, who both remained in the detention room, "a lad hath arrived bearing a parcel for John Law, Esquire. 'Tis not within possibility that you have these goods, but we would know what disposition we shall make of them."

"By my faith!" cried Law, "I had entirely forgot my haberdasher."

The jailer stood on one foot and gave a cough, unnecessarily loud but sufficiently significant. It was enough for the quick wit of Law.

"There was fifty sovereigns on the charge list," said the jailer.

"Sixty sovereigns, I heard you say distinctly," replied Law. "Will, give me thy purse, man!"

Will Law obeyed automatically.

"There," said John Law to the jailer. "I am sure the garments will be very proper. Is it not all very proper?"

The turnkey looked calmly into the face of his prisoner and as calmly replied: "It is, sir, as you say, very proper."

"It would be much relief," said John Law, as the turnkey again appeared, bearing the box in his own hands, "if I might don my new garments. I would liefer make a good showing for thy house, friend, and can not, in this garb."

"Sirrah," said the jailer, "there be rules of this place, as you very well know. Your little chamber was to have been in corridor number four, number twelve of the left aisle. But, sir, as perhaps you know, there be rules which are rules, and rules which are not so much--that is to say--rules, as you might put it, sir. The main thing is that I produce your body on the day of the hearing, which cometh soon. Meantime, since you seem a gentleman, and are in for no common felony, but charged, as I might say, with a light offense, why, sir, in such a case, I might say that a gentleman like yourself, if he cared to wear a bit of good clothes and wear it here in the parlor like, why, sir, I can see no harm in it. And that's competent to prove, as the judge says."

"Very well, then," said Law, "I'll e'en deck out with the gear I should have had to-night had I been free; though I fear my employment this evening will scarce be pleasing as that which I had planned. Will, had I had but one more night at the Green Lion, we'd e'en have needed a special chair to carry home my winnings of their English gold."

Enter then, a few moments later, "Beau" Law, "Jessamy" Law, late of Edinboro', gentleman, and a right gallant figure of a man. Tall he was indeed, and, so clad, making a picture of superb manhood. Ease and grace he showed in every movement. His long fingers closed lightly at top of a lacquered cane which he had found within the box. Deep ruffles of white hung down from his wrists, and a fall of wide lace drooped from the bosom of his ruffled s.h.i.+rt. His wig, deep curled and well whitened, gave a certain austerity to his mien. At his instep sparkled new buckles of brilliants, rising above which sprang a graceful ankle, a straight and well-rounded leg. The long lapels of his rich coat hung deep, and the rich waistcoat of plum-colored satin added slimness to a torso not too bulky in itself. Neat, dainty, fastidious, "Jessamy" Law, late of Edinboro', for some weeks of London, and now of a London prison, scarce seemed a man about to be put on trial for his life.

He advanced from the door of the side room with ease and dignity.

Reaching out a snuff-box which he had found in the silken pocket of his new garment, he extended it to the turnkey with an indifferent gesture.

"Kindly have it filled with maccaboy," he said. "See, 'tis quite empty, and as such, 'tis useless."

"Certainly, Captain Law," said the turnkey. "I am a man as knows what a gentleman likes, and many a one I've had here in my day, sir. As it chances, I've a bit of the best in my own quarters, and I'll see that you have what you like."

"Will," said Law to his brother, who had scarce moved during all this, "come, cheer up! One would think 'twas thyself was to be inmate here, and not another."

Will Law burst into tears.

"G.o.d knows, 'twere better myself, and not thee, Jack," he said.

"Pis.h.!.+ boy, no more of that! 'Twas as chance would have it. I'm never meant for staying here. Come, take this letter, as I said, and make haste to carry it. 'Twill serve nothing to have you moping here. Fare you well, and see that you sleep sound."

Will Law turned, obedient as ever to the commands of the superior mind.

He pa.s.sed out through the heavily-guarded door as the turnkey swung it for him; pa.s.sed out, turned and looked back. He saw his brother standing there, easy, calm, indifferent, a splendid figure of a man.

CHAPTER XIII

THE MESSAGE

To Will Law, as he turned away from the prison gate upon the errand a.s.signed to him, the vast and shapeless shadows of the night-covered city took the form of appalling monsters, relentless, remorseless, savage of purpose. He pa.s.sed, as one in some hideous dream, along streets that wound and wound until his brain lost distance and direction. It might have been an hour, two hours, and the clock might have registered after midnight, when at last he discovered himself in front of the dark gray ma.s.s of stone which the chairmen a.s.sured him was his destination. It was with trepidation that he stepped to the half-lighted door and fumbled for the knocker. The door slowly swung open, and he was confronted by the portly presence of a lackey who stood in silence waiting for his word.

"A message for Lady Catharine Knollys," said Will, with what courage he could summon. "'Tis of importance, I make no doubt." For it was to the Lady Catharine that John Law had first turned. His heart craved one more sight of the face so beloved, one more word from the voice which so late had thrilled his soul. Away from these--ah! that was the prison for him, these were the bars which to him seemed imperatively needful to be broken. Aid he did not think of asking. Only, across London, in the night, he had sent the cry of his heart: "Come to me!"

"The Lady Catharine is not in at this hour," said the butler, with, some asperity, closing the door again in part.

"But 'tis important. I doubt if 'twill bear the delay of a night."

Indeed, Will Law had hitherto hardly paused to reflect how unusual was this message, from such a person, to such address, and at such an hour.

The butler hesitated, and so did the unbidden guest at the door. Neither heard at first the light rustle of garments at the head of the stair, nor saw the face bent over the bal.u.s.trade in the shadows of the hall.

"What is it, James?" asked a voice from above.

"A message for the Lady Catharine," replied the servant. "Said to be important. What should I do?"

"Lady Catharine Knollys is away," said the soft voice of Mary Connynge, speaking from the stair. Her voice came nearer as she now descended and appeared at the first landing.

"We may crave your pardon, sir," said she, "that we receive you so ill, but the hour is very late. Lady Catharine is away, and Sir Charles is forth also, as usual, at this time. I am left proxy for my entertainers, and perhaps I may serve you in this case. Therefore pray step within."

Reluctantly the butler swung open the door and admitted the visitor.

Will Law stood face to face with Mary Connynge, just from her boudoir, and with time for but half care as to the details of her toilet; yet none the less Mary Connynge, Eve-like, bewitching, endowed with all the ancient wiles of womankind. Will Law gazed, since this was his fate.

Unconsciously the sorcery of the sight enfolded the youth as he stood there uncertainly. He saw the round throat, the heavy ma.s.ses of the dark hair, the full round form. He noted, though he could not define; felt, though he could not cla.s.sify. He was young. Utterly helpless might have been even an older man in the hands of Mary Connynge at a time like this, Mary Connynge deliberately seeking to ensnare.

"Pardon this robe, but half concealing," said her drooping eye and her half uplifted hands which caught the defining folds yet closer to her bosom. "'Tis in your chivalry I trust. I would not so with others." This to the beholder meant that he was the one man on earth to whom so much could be conceded.

Therefore, following to his own undoing, as though led by some actual command, while but bidden gently by the softest voice in all the kingdom, the young man entered the great drawing-room and waited as the butler lessened the shadows by the aid of candles. He saw the smallest foot in London just peep in and out, suddenly withdrawn as Mary Connynge sat her down.

She held the message now in her hand. In her soul sat burning impatience, in her heart contempt for the callow youth before her. Yet to that youth her att.i.tude seemed to speak naught but deference for himself and doubt for this unusual situation.

"Sir, I am in some hesitation," said Mary Connynge. "There is indeed none in the house except the servants. You say your message is of importance--"

"It has indeed importance," responded Will. "It comes from my brother."

"Your brother, Mr. Law?"

"From my brother, John Law. He is in trouble. I make no doubt the message will set all plain."

"'Tis most grievous that Lady Catharine return not till to-morrow."

Mary Connynge s.h.i.+fted herself upon her seat, caught once more with swift modesty at the robe which fell from her throat. She raised her eyes and turned them full upon the visitor. Never had the spell of curve and color, never had the language of s.e.x addressed this youth as it did now.

Intoxicating enough was this vague, mysterious speech even at this inappropriate time. The girl knew that the mesh had fallen well. She but caught again at her robe, and cast down again her eyes, and voiced again her a.s.sumed anxiety. "I scarce know what to do," she murmured.

"My brother did not explain--" said Will.

"In that case," said Mary Connynge, her voice cool, though her soul was hot with impatience, "it might perhaps be well if I took the liberty of reading the message in Lady Catharine's absence. You say your brother is in trouble?"