Part 25 (1/2)

”I would prefer,” he said, ”to give some other evidence of my ident.i.ty than that, if it is the same to you.”

”If you prefer it, of course,” said the lawyer coldly. His suspicions were immediately roused, for he had named the simplest description of doc.u.ment he could think of, and it seemed odd that the Doctor should be so evidently disinclined to produce it.

”I suppose,” said the Doctor, ”that the formal attestation of my ident.i.ty by the authorities of the University of Heidelberg would be sufficient?”

”Yes, I should think so,” said Screw cautiously. ”But will it not take some time to procure that?”

”Well? If it does, what then?”

”Only that--you will understand that until this matter is settled I should not feel justified in authorising you to draw upon the estate.”

Claudius's sense of logic was offended.

”My dear sir,” he replied, ”have I drawn upon the estate for a single dollar yet?”

”No, sir, I am bound to say you have not, although you might have considered it natural to do so, and we should have put no obstacle--”

Mr. Screw stopped short. He had betrayed himself, and felt extremely embarra.s.sed. But he said enough to give Claudius an idea of the situation. Something had occurred, some one had spoken, to cast a doubt on his ident.i.ty; and Mr. Screw was the chosen emissary of that ”some one.”

”Then, Mr. Screw,” said the Doctor in measured tones, ”I would admonish you to be more careful how you insinuate that I might do anything of the kind. You have inconvenienced me quite enough already. You had better not inconvenience me any more. I consider your conduct a piece of unparalleled clumsiness, and your language little short of impertinent.

What you have said now you should have said in the letter which announced my uncle's death. Or you should have instructed Mr. Barker, who was abroad at the time and found me in Heidelberg, to make the necessary investigations. The evidence shall be forthcoming in proper season, and until then I do not desire the advantage of your company.”

Mr. Screw was so much astonished with this mode of address from a man whom he had foolishly imagined to be good-natured that he stood a moment by the table hesitating what he should say. Claudius took up a book and began to read.

”Well,” said he, perceiving that Mr. Screw was still in the room, ”why don't you go?”

”Really, Dr. Claudius, I am not accustomed--” he began.

”Go,” said Claudius, interrupting him; ”it is not of the smallest interest to me to know what you are accustomed to. There is the door.”

”Sir--”

”Do you prefer the window?” asked the Doctor, rising in great wrath and striding towards the unhappy lawyer. Mr. Screw instantly made up his mind that the door was preferable, and disappeared. When he was gone Claudius sat down again. He was very angry; but, in his own view, his anger was just. It was very clear to him, from the words Mr. Screw had inadvertently let fall, that some one had, for reasons unknown, undertaken to cause him a great deal of unpleasantness. What he had said to Screw was not to be denied. If there was any question as to his ident.i.ty, full proof should have been required from the first. But his autograph letter from Heidelberg, attested by a notary, had been accepted as sufficient; and ”Screw and Scratch” had answered the letter, and Claudius had received their answer in Baden. It had never entered his head that anything more would be required. So long as Screw had confined himself to stating his position, merely asking for further evidence, the Doctor had nothing to say. But at the suggestion that Claudius might want to draw money from the estate before his claims were fully established, he lost his temper. It was an imputation on his honour; and, however slight it might seem to Mr. Screw, Claudius was not the man to bear it.

Ten minutes later Mr. Barker walked in unannounced. It was natural enough that he should call, but Claudius did not want him. The Doctor had not had time to think over the situation, but he had, a vague impression that Barker had something to do with this sudden cloud of annoyance that had risen to darken his path. Barker, on his side, was prepared for storms, but he intended to play the part of confidential friend and consoler. Claudius, however, wanted neither friends nor consolation, and he was in the worst of tempers. Nevertheless, he rose and offered his guest a chair, and asked him how he did. Barker took the chair and said he was fairly well, on the way to recovery from the voyage.

”What have you been doing all day, Claudius?” he asked.

”I have been to a place called Greenwood, to see where they had buried my uncle,” answered Claudius, and relapsed into silence.

”No wonder you look so gloomy. Whatever induced you to do such a thing?”

”I was not induced,” said Claudius. ”He was my last relation in the world, and I did the only thing I could to honour his memory, which was to go and see his grave.”

”Yes, very proper, I am sure,” replied Barker. ”If my relations would begin and die, right away, I would trot around and see their graves fast enough!”

Claudius was silent.

”What on earth is the matter with you, Claudius? Have you got a headache, or are you going to be married?”