Part 30 (2/2)
”But what the deuce are you going to do about that fortune of yours?”
asked the other suddenly. ”Don't you think we had better go down and swear to you at once? I may not be here when you get back, you know.”
”No; that would not suit my arrangements,” answered Claudius. ”I would rather not let it be known for what purpose I had gone. Do you understand? I am going ostensibly to Heidelberg to get my papers from the University, and so, with all thanks, I need not trouble you.” The Duke looked at him for a moment.
”What a queer fellow you are, Claudius,” he said at last. ”I should think you would like her to know.”
”Why? Suppose that I failed, what a figure I should cut, to be sure.”
Claudius preferred to attribute to his vanity an action which was the natural outcome of his love.
”Well, that is true,” said the Duke; ”but I think you are pretty safe for all that. Have some breakfast--I forgot all about it.”
”No, thanks. Are you going to Newport to-day? I would like to see something outside of New York before I go back.”
”By all means. Better go at once--all of us in a body. I know the Countess is ready, and I am sure I am.”
”Very good. I will get my things together. One word--please do not tell them I am going; I will do it myself.
”All right,” answered the Duke; and Claudius vanished. ”He says 'them,'”
soliloquised the Englishman, ”but he means 'her.'”
Claudius found on his table a note from Mr. Screw. This missive was couched in formal terms, and emitted a kind of phosph.o.r.escent wrath. Mr.
Screw's dignity was seriously offended by the summary ejectment he had suffered at the Doctor's hands on the previous day. He gave the Doctor formal notice that his drafts would not be honoured until the executors were satisfied concerning his ident.i.ty; and he solemnly and legally ”regretted the position Dr. Claudius had a.s.sumed towards those whose sacred duty it was to protect the interests of Dr. Claudius.” The cunning repet.i.tion of name conveyed the idea of two personages, the claimant and the real heir, in a manner that did not escape the Doctor.
Since yesterday he had half regretted having lost his temper; and had he known that Screw had been completely duped by Mr. Barker, Claudius would probably have apologised to the lawyer. Indeed, he had a vague suspicion, as the shadow of a distant event, that Barker was not altogether clear of the business; and the fact that the latter had shown so little surprise on hearing of his friend's sudden return to Europe had aroused the Doctor's imagination, so that he found himself piecing together everything he could remember to show that Barker had an interest of some kind in removing him from the scene. Nevertheless, the burden of responsibility for the annoyance he was now suffering seemed to rest with Screw, and Screw should be taught a great lesson; and to that end Claudius would write a letter. It was clear he was still angry.
The Doctor sat down to write; and his strong, white fingers held the pen with unrelenting determination to be disagreeable. His face was set like a mask, and ever and anon his blue eyes gleamed scornfully. And this is what he said--
”SIR--Having enjoyed the advantage of your society, somewhat longer than I could have wished, during yesterday afternoon, I had certainly not hoped for so early a mark of your favour and interest as a letter from you of to-day's date. As for your formal notice to me that my drafts will not be honoured in future, I regard it as a deliberate repet.i.tion of the insulting insinuation conveyed to me by your remarks during your visit. You are well aware that I have not drawn upon the estate in spite of your written authorisation to do so. I consider your conduct in this matter unworthy of a person professing the law, and your impertinence is in my opinion only second to the phenomenal clumsiness you have displayed throughout.
As I fear that your ignorance of your profession may lead you into some act of folly disastrous to yourself, I will go so far as to inform you that on my return from Europe, two months hence, your proceedings as executor for the estate of the late Gustavus Lindstrand will be subjected to the severest scrutiny. In the meantime, I desire no further communications from you.
CLAUDIUS.”
This remarkable epistle was immediately despatched by messenger to Pine Street; and if Mr. Screw had felt himself injured before, he was on the verge of desperation when he read Claudius's polemic. He repeated to himself the several sentences, which seemed to breathe war and carnage in their trenchant brevity; and he thought that even if he had been guilty of any breach of trust, he could hardly have felt worse. He ran his fingers through his thick yellow-gray hair, and hooked his legs in and out of each other as he sat, and bullied his clerks within an inch of their lives. Then, to get consolation, he said to himself that Claudius was certainly an impostor, or he would not be so angry, or go to Europe, or refuse any more communications. In the midst of his rage, Mr. Barker the younger opportunely appeared in the office of Messrs.
Screw and Scratch, prepared to throw any amount of oil upon the flames.
”Well?” said Mr. Barker interrogatively, as he settled the flower in his gray coat, and let the paper ribband of the ”ticker” run through his other hand, with its tale of the tide of stocks. Yellow Mr. Screw shot a lurid glance from his bra.s.sy little eyes.
”You're right, sir--the man's a humbug.”
”Who?” asked Barker, in well-feigned innocence.
”Claudius. It's my belief he's a liar and a thief and a d.a.m.ned impostor, sir. That's my belief, sir.” He waxed warm as he vented his anger.
”Well, I only suggested taking precautions. I never said any of these things,” answered Barker, who had no idea of playing a prominent part in his own plot. ”Don't give me any credit, Mr. Screw.”
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