A Drake by George! Part 21

"I wouldn't do that," said George piously. "It sounds too much like a threat, and after all we must try to forgive our enemies."

"Thank you for reminding me. That's a beautiful idea of yours. I wish I was a good and clever old woman like you are."

George was stooping over her at the moment, and this compliment made him groan. "It's my poor back," he explained.

"Oh dear!" exclaimed the innocent old lady. "When you have gone to bed, I shall send Nellie to wrap you up in red flannel. We old people cannot be too careful."

Miss Yard wrote letters to all manner of persons, living, dead, and imaginary; but very few found their way to the post office. George took possession of the letter to Mr. Hunter and despatched it himself; and, knowing exactly when the answer would be received, he took the precaution of going out to meet the postman. By this time he was prepared for action, as the cheque for two hundred pounds had been cleared, and the amount was deposited safely to his account.

There were two letters, and one was addressed to himself. Miss Yard's was merely a note, acknowledging the receipt of her communication and mentioning that Mr. Taverner would shortly be writing with a view to clearing away the misunderstanding which had arisen since the death of Mrs. Drake. George opened a phial of malice and poured out its contents upon the name of Percy. Then he examined his own letter, which was bulky and of a strongly acid tendency.

Mr. Hunter was astonished and pained to think that Mr. Drake should have taken advantage of the age and infirmities of Miss Yard to such an extent as to have made her the instrument of his plans; as it was perfectly evident Mr. Drake had dictated, or at least had inspired, the letter which had been addressed to his firm by Miss Yard. Mr. Hunter earnestly desired to avoid anything of an unpleasant nature, and he hoped therefore Mr. Drake would not venture to repeat an experiment which suggested a state of ethics with which he had not previously been acquainted; and would adhere to his undertaking, given as a condition to Mr. Taverner's purchase of the furniture, namely, to leave Miss Yard in undisturbed possession of the premises bequeathed to Mr. Drake by his late aunt, and better known and described as Windward House. Mr. Hunter had also just been informed, to his soul's amus.e.m.e.nt, that Mr. Drake had not yet subscribed to this form of agreement, nor had he acknowledged the receipt of a cheque for two hundred pounds forwarded him some days previously. Mr. Hunter continued to be sorry to the end of his letter, which was a memorable piece of philosophic morality, suggesting that the lawyer's office had been quite recently taken over by some inst.i.tution for reforming wicked people.

George expressed a hope that Mr. Hunter some day might be sorry for himself. He had under-rated the powers of the lawyer, who had now proved himself to possess the ordinary malevolent, orphan-baiting, legal soul.

However, George had no intention of surrendering without a struggle. He took his pen and obliterated the highly offensive clause which referred to his expulsion from Windward House. He then added his signature and composed an epistle complaining bitterly of the oriental methods of oppression which were being brought to bear upon him. He mentioned that he was an invalid Englishman residing in Devons.h.i.+re; and laid particular stress upon the fact he never had been an Armenian living somewhere in the Turkish Empire. He especially desired to draw Mr. Hunter's attention to the phenomenon that the present age was democratic, and British workmen--with whom he did not disdain to be a.s.sociated--were becoming impatient of high-handed methods. He enclosed the receipt and regretted the delay, which had been unavoidable owing to the insertion of the clause--now deleted, as Mr. Hunter would observe--which seemed to strike far too harshly against his personal liberty. He had given this clause his serious attention for some days, but had arrived at the conclusion, regretfully, that it involved a principle he was quite unable to accept.

Messrs. Hunter and Taverner, in their joint capacity as trustees of the Yard estate, had apparently conspired--he did not use the word in an objectionable sense, although in his opinion it had but one meaning--to secure his eviction from premises to which he was legally ent.i.tled. They had offered him a wholly inadequate sum of money for the furniture, and this offer he had accepted with the sole idea of rendering Miss Yard a kindness; but now, it appeared, the money had been intended as a bribe to induce him to quit his home. Was this altogether legal? Was it honest? Could it be respectable? He felt compelled to remind Mr. Hunter, again regretfully, that a bribe was something given to corrupt the conduct of poor but decent men.

Then he went to Miss Yard and told her the lawyer was still tormenting him, and he was very much afraid it might soon be necessary to go away and find some hiding place.

"Has the man written to me?" asked Miss Yard, when the whole matter had been recalled to her memory.

"Don't you remember? He said you were a silly old woman, and you had no business to interfere."

"Where is the letter? Find it for me, George, and I'll do something,"

she cried indignantly.

"You were so angry that you threw it on the fire. Don't worry, Aunt; I shall know how to defend myself. The man tried to bribe me to leave you, and now he's threatening to send me to prison by means of false evidence."

"I wish you would let me write to my own man, what's his name?"

"That would lead to expense, and you must not spend money on me. If I don't go away I'm afraid the man may come to Highfield with a gang of ruffians, and break into the house--and I won't have you worried."

"I'll give you some money," said the generous lady. "Where's my cheque-book? Tell Nellie to find my cheque-book."

"Thank you, Aunt. A little money will be very useful. This man is just a blackmailer, and if I hide for a few weeks he will forget all about me.

Then you can write and invite me to come back," said George tenderly.

"I'll write this moment," cried Miss Yard.

"But I haven't gone yet. You are mistress here and, if you like to invite me, of course, I can come and stay as long as you care to have me."

"And if that horrid man tries to turn you out again, I shall let Percy know about it, and I shall get advice from Hunter--I wonder how I came to remember his name. Do write to Hunter and tell him all about it,"

Miss Yard pleaded.

"To please you, I will," George promised.

That evening he received a letter in strange handwriting, and bearing the illegible postmark which signified that it came from London. George opened it and, perceiving the signature of Mr. Crampy, expert in ancient porcelain, read the contents with interest:

"Since visiting you I have spoken with several collectors about your pair of vases, which, I have no doubt whatever, are excellent specimens dating from the Tsing dynasty, although I admit forgeries of this period are exceedingly difficult to detect. My object in writing is to warn you against being imposed upon, and to remind you of your promise to give me first refusal up to a thousand pounds, which sum I am still perfectly willing to risk.

"It is highly probable some wealthy collectors may call upon you as, when the existence of such vases as you possess becomes known, there is invariably a hue and cry after them. I enclose, on a separate sheet of paper, a list of names; these are all gentlemen whom you can trust absolutely. The two against whose names I have pencilled the letters, U.S.A. are, I know, very keen to get your vases. If you should do business with any of the gentlemen on my list I get a commission. I don't suppose you will let yourself be humbugged, but I beg you not to make any offer in writing unless you intend to stick to it, as any of these collectors would convert your sc.r.a.p of writing into a stamped legal doc.u.ment at once, and then sue you for breach of contract if you tried to get out of it.

"So long as you refuse to part with the vases for less than a thousand, you'll be all right."

CHAPTER XI

SOME LEADING INCIDENTS

"I do hope there's nothing wrong with Mr. Percy, vor Miss Sophy ha' got a letter from him, and she's crying something shocking," remarked Kezia, as she handed George a communication informing him that, not only Mr.

Hunter, but the entire firm of Martin and Cross, had been outraged by the unspeakable conduct of Mr. Drake, who had dishonoured the t.i.tle of gentleman by breaking his plighted word, and had stained his own name for ever by repudiating a contract. During the whole course of his professional career Mr. Hunter was thankful to say he never before received a letter suggesting that he--a solicitor--was capable of conspiring with another to deprive a third party of his lawful inheritance. He banished the sinister reflection, and enclosed a fresh form of receipt, containing the clause which Mr. Drake unaccountably regarded as oppressive, after having expressed his entire approval of the conditions contained therein, and he pressed for its execution at once or, failing that, the immediate return of the cheque for two hundred pounds. Mr. Taverner had specifically mentioned he would not purchase the furniture unless Mr. Drake gave an undertaking in writing to withdraw from Windward House; and now that Mr. Hunter had become more intimately acquainted with Mr. Drake's character, he was bound to confess that Mr. Taverner had displayed remarkably shrewd judgment.

"I trapped him, but he doesn't know it; I have trod upon his corn, and he doesn't like it; now I'll make a fool of him completely," George muttered.

Then Miss Yard came trembling and half tumbling downstairs, supported by Nellie, and weeping bitterly in quite a joyful fas.h.i.+on.

"Percy has got a new tomato and he calls it Emily," she announced.

"Emmie Lee," corrected Nellie.

"You mustn't allow that to upset you," said George.

"But he's going to bring her to see me, and he wants me to write to her.

Oh dear! I do pray it may be a blessing to him."

"Try not to cry any more, or you will have such a headache," said Nellie soothingly.

"I should not have thought," remarked George, "that tomatoes were worth crying about anyhow."

"All the information was there, but rather too condensed," explained Nellie. "Mr. Taverner discovered in one of his gla.s.s-houses--"

"Oh, no, Nellie, you are silly, child. It was at a garden party."

"You begin breakfast, and let me tell Mr. Drake in my own rambling fas.h.i.+on," said Nellie, coaxing the lady into her cus.h.i.+oned chair, then slipping into her own place behind the tea tray. "Mr. Taverner discovered his foreman had cultivated a particularly fine tomato plant unawares, and he made up his mind it was a new species, so he means to introduce it to the market under the name of Emmie Lee."

"He's full of dirty little tricks like that," George grumbled.

"And she's the great-grandchild of a clergyman, so there cannot be anything wrong with the family," sobbed Miss Yard.

"You must stop crying at once," said Nellie sternly.

"My dear, I will cry and be happy."

"The truth of the matter is, Percy has got a young woman?" George suggested.

"That's it," said Nellie. "And he's naming the new tomato after her."