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"Beg pardon, sir," he said humbly, "but ain't you Mr. Victor Nevill?"
CHAPTER XXIV.
A FATEFUL DECISION.
Nevill paused, latch-key in hand; a cautious impulse checked the admission of his ident.i.ty. The individual who had accosted him, seen by the glow of a distant street-lamp, was thickset and rakish-looking, with a heavy mustache. He repeated his question uneasily.
"If I've made a mistake--" he went on.
"No, you are not mistaken," said Nevill. "But how did you learn my name, and what do you want with me?"
On a natural impulse, fancying he recognized a racing tipster who had been of service to him in the past, he reached for his pocket; the jingling of coin was heard.
"Stow that--I'm not a beggar!" the man said, sharply.
"I beg your pardon! I thought I recalled--"
"We never met before, Mr. Nevill."
"Then it's a queer time of night for a stranger to hunt me up. If you have business with me, come in the morning; or, better still, write to me."
"I've got to talk to you to-night, sir, and I ain't to be put off. For two blessed hours I've been hanging around this house, watching an'
waiting--"
"A sad waste of time! You are an impudent fellow, whoever you are. I refuse to have anything to do with you."
"I think you'll change your mind, sir. If you don't you'll be sorry till your dying day."
"You scoundrel, do you dare to threaten me?" cried Nevill. "There is only one remedy for ruffians of your kind--" He looked up and down the street in search of a policeman.
"You can call an officer if you like," the man said, scornfully; "or, if you choose to order me away, I'll go. But in that case," he bent nearer and dropped his voice to a whisper, "I'll take my secret straight to Sir Lucius Chesney. And I'll warrant _he_ won't refuse to hear it."
Nevill's countenance changed, and he seemed to wilt instantly.
"Your secret?" he muttered. "Are you telling the truth? What is it?"
"Do you suppose I'm going to give that away here in the street? It's a private matter, and can only be told under shelter, where there ain't no danger of eavesdroppers."
"I'll trust you," replied Nevill, after a brief hesitation. "Come, you shall go to my rooms. But I warn you in advance that if you are playing a game of blackmail I'll have no mercy on you."
"I won't ask none. Don't you fear."
Nevill opened the house door, and the two went softly up the dimly lit staircase. The gas-lamps were turned on, revealing the luxuries of the front apartment, and the visitor looked about him with bewildered admiration; he seemed to feel his unfitness for the place, and instinctively b.u.t.toned his coat over his shabby linen. But that was only for a moment. With an insolent smile he took possession of a basket-chair, helped himself to a cigar, and poured some brandy from a _carafe_ into a gla.s.s. Meanwhile Nevill had drawn the window curtains, and when he turned around he had hard work to restrain his anger.
"What the devil--," he began, and broke off. "You are the cheekiest fellow I ever came across," he added.
"It ain't often," replied the man, puffing away contentedly, "that I get a chance to try a swell's tobacco and liquor. That's prime stuff, sir. I feel more like talking now."
"Then be quick about it. What is your business? And as you have the advantage of me at present, it would be better if you began by stating your name."
"My name," the man paused half a second, "is Timmins--Joe Timmins. It ain't likely that you--"
"No; I never heard it," Nevill interrupted. He sat down at the other side of the table, and endeavored to hide his anxiety and impatience.
"I can't spare you much time," he added.
"Sure there ain't n.o.body within earshot?"
"Quite sure. Make your mind easy."
Mr. Joe Timmins--_alias_ Noah Hawker--expressed his satisfaction by a nod. He produced a paper from his pocket, and slowly unfolded it.
"If you will kindly read that," he said.
Nevill took the doc.u.ment curiously. It consisted of half a dozen pages of writing, well-worded and grammatical, but done by a wretched, scrawling hand, and embellished with numerous blots and smudges. From the first he grasped its import, and as he read on to the end his face grew pale and his hands shook. With a curse he started to his feet and made a step toward the grate, where the embers of a coal fire lingered.
Then, dropping down again, he laughed bitterly.
"Of course this is only a copy?" he exclaimed.
"That's all, sir," replied Mr. Timmins, with a grim smile. "It ain't likely I'd been fool enough to bring the original here. I did the copy myself, an' though I ain't much of a scholar, I do say as it reads for what it's meant to be, word for word."
"I want better proof than this, my man."
"Ain't you satisfied? Look at the date of the letter, an' where it was written, an' what it says. Could I invent such a thing?"
"No; you couldn't," Nevill admitted. "You have the original letter, you say?"
"I've had that and other papers for years, hid away in a safe place, which is where they lie now. It's only lately I looked into them deep, so to speak, and saw what they might be worth to me. I studied them, sir, and by putting things together I found there were three persons concerned--three chances for me to try."
"You are a cunning fellow," said Nevill. "Why did you bring the letter to me?"
"Because it pointed that way. I knew you were the biggest bird, and the one most likely to pay me for my secret. It was quite a different matter with the others--"
"You haven't seen them?"
"No fear!" Mr. Timmins answered, emphatically. "I spotted you as my man from the first, and I'm glad you've got the sense to look at it right.
I hope we understand each other."
"I don't think there can be much doubt about that," replied Nevill, whose quick mind had grasped the situation in all its bearings; he realized that there was no alternative--save ruin--but to submit to the scoundrel's terms. But the bargain must be made as easy as possible.
"I must know more than you have told me," he went on. "How did the letter come into your possession? And why have you waited more than five years to make use of it?"
Mr. Timmins was not averse to answering the questions. He pulled his chair closer, and in low tones spoke for some minutes, revealing all that Nevill wished to know, and much besides that was of interest.
"You'll find me a square-dealing customer," he concluded, "and I expect the same of a gent like you."