It Is Never Too Late to Mend - BestLightNovel.com
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Crawley winced and rubbed his hands.
"And your fortune is made if you help me to win her."
Crawley rubbed his hands.
"Old Merton has promised the woman I love to this George Fielding if he comes back with a thousand pounds."
"Don't you be frightened, sir; that he will never do."
"Will he not? Read this letter."
"Ah! the letter that put you out so. Let me see--Mum! mum! Found gold.
Pheugh! Pheugh! Pheeeugh!!"
"Crawley, most men reading that letter would have given in then and there, and not fought against such luck as this. I only said to myself, 'Then it will cost me ten thousand pounds to win the day.' Well, between yesterday eleven forenoon and this hour I made the ten thousand pounds."
He told him briefly how.
"Beautiful, sir! What, did you make the ten thousand out of your own rival's letter?"
"Yes, I taxed the enemy for the expenses of the war."
"Oh, Mr. Meadows, what a fool, what a villain I was to think Mr. Levi was as great a man as you! I must have been under a hallucination."
"Crawley, the day that John and Susan Meadows walk out of church man and wife I put a thousand pounds into your hand and set you up in any business you like; in any honest business, for from that day our underhand dealings must end. The husband of that angel must never grind the poor or wrong a living creature. If Heaven consents to my being happy in this way, the least I can do is to walk straight and straightforward the rest of my days, and I will, s'help me G.o.d."
"That is fair. I knew you were a great man, but I had no idea you were such a good one."
"Crawley," said the other, with a sudden gloomy misgiving, "I am trying to cheat the devil. I fear no man can do that;" and he hung his head.
"No ordinary man, sir," replied the parasite, "but your skill has no bounds. Your plan, sir, at once, that I may co-operate and not thwart your great skill through ignorance."
"My plan has two hands; one must work here, the other a great many miles from here. If I could but cut myself in two, all would be well; but I can't; I must be one hand, you the other. _I_ work thus: Post-office here is under my thumb. I stop all letters from him to her. Presently comes a letter from Australia telling among pork, grains, etc., how George Fielding has made his fortune and married a girl out there."
"But who is to write the letter?"
"Can't you guess?"
"Haven't an idea. She won't believe it."
"Not at first, perhaps, but when she gets no more letters from him she will."
"So she will. So then you will run him down to her."
"Not such a fool, she would hate me. I shall never mention his name.
I make one of my tools hang jail over old Merton. Susan thinks George married. I strike upon her pique and her father's distress. I ask him for his daughter. Offer to pay my father-in-law's debts and start him afresh."
"Beautiful! Beautiful!"
"Susan likes me already. I tell her all I suffered silent while she was on with George. I press her to be mine. She will say no perhaps three or four times, but the fifth she will say yes!"
"She will; you are a great man."
"And she will be happy."
"Can't see it."
"A man that marries a virtuous woman and loves her is no man at all if he can't make her love him; they can't resist our stronger wills except by flight or by leaning upon another man. I'll be back directly."
Mr. Meadows returned with a bottle of wine and two gla.s.ses. Crawley was surprised. This was a beverage he had never seen his friend drink or offer him. Another thing puzzled him. When Mr. Meadows came back with the wine he had not so much color as usual in his face--not near so much.
"Crawley," said Meadows, in a low voice, "suppose, while I am working, this George Fielding were to come home with money in both pockets?"
"He would kick it all down in a moment."
"I am glad you see that. Then you see one hand is not enough; another must be working far away."
"Yes, but I don't see--"
"You will see. Drink a gla.s.s of wine with me, my good friend; your health."
"Same to you, sir."
"Is it to your mind?"
"Elixir! This is the stuff that sharpens a chap's wit and puts courage in his heart."
"I brought it for that. You and I have no chicken's play on hand.
Another gla.s.s."
"Success to your scheme, sir."
"Crawley, George Fielding must not come back this year with one thousand pounds."
"No, he must not--thank you, sir, your health. Mustn't, he shan't; but how on earth can you prevent him?"
"That paper will prevent him; it is a paper of instructions. My very brains lie in that paper--put it in your pocket."
"In my pocket, sir? Highly honored--shall be executed to the letter.
What, wine!"
"And this is a check-book."
"No! is it though?"
"You will draw on me for one hundred pounds per month."
"No! shall I, though? Sir, you are a king!"