Part 30 (1/2)
”I have.”
”Did he know you were to call upon me this afternoon?”
”I told him before I came.”
Things were evidently getting more serious than Mr. Grey had supposed.
Not only was Gilbert a young man who meant business, but he was backed by a merchant of standing, whose former connection with the Grey family made his co-operation and favor of no slight importance. James Grey saw that he must temporize. Had he followed out his inclination, he would have sprung upon his obdurate nephew and pounded him to a jelly. But unfortunately he was in a civilized city, where laws are supposed to afford some protection from personal a.s.sault, and this course, therefore, was not to be thought of. Since violence, then, was not practicable, he must have recourse to stratagem, and, to put Gilbert temporarily off his guard, he must play a part.
”Well, young man,” he said, at length, ”I am not prepared at present to p.r.o.nounce a definite opinion upon your claim. Of course, if really convinced that you were my nephew, I would acknowledge you to be such.”
”I have some doubts as to that,” thought Gilbert.
”But it does not seem to me very probable that such is the case. Of course, I objected to being duped by an impostor. You cannot blame me for that.”
”No.”
”At first, your claim appeared to me preposterous, and I p.r.o.nounced it to be so. Upon reflection, though I strongly doubt its genuineness, I am willing to take time to consider it.”
”That is fair,” said Gilbert.
”I shall consult with a lawyer on the subject, and inst.i.tute some inquiries of my own. Then, besides, my time will be partly occupied with other business, on which I have come hither. You may come again, say in a week, and I shall perhaps be able to give you a definite answer.”
”Very well,” said Gilbert. ”Good-morning.”
”Good-morning,” responded his uncle, following him to the door. ”I'd like to kick you down stairs, you young villain,” he added, _sotto voce_.
James Grey shut the door of his chamber, and sat down to think. It was certainly an emergency that called for serious thought. Gilbert's claim would strip him of four-fifths of his fortune, and reduce him from a rich man to a comparatively poor one.
”I am not safe as long as that paper exists,” he concluded. ”It must be stolen from the boy, in some way.” But how? He felt that he wanted an unscrupulous tool through whose agency he might get possession of old Jacob's confession. That destroyed, he could snap his fingers at Gilbert, and live undisturbed in the possession of the fortune he wrongfully withheld from him.
Sometimes the devil sends to evil men precisely what they most want, and so it turned out in this particular instance.
That evening Mr. Grey was walking thoughtfully in the street, reflecting upon his difficult situation, when his sharp ears caught the sound of his nephew's name, p.r.o.nounced by two boys, or young men, in front of him. Not to keep the reader in suspense, they were Maurice Walton and a friend of his, named Isaac Baker.
”I tell you, Baker,” said Maurice, warmly, ”it's the greatest piece of injustice my being paid only half the salary of that sneak, Gilbert Grey.”
”I suppose he's a favorite with Ferguson, isn't he?”
”That's just it. I'm as good a clerk as he is, any day, yet he gets twenty dollars a week, while I only get ten. It's enough to make a fellow swear.”
”Did you ever speak to Ferguson about it?”
”Yes, but that was all the good it did. He seems to think there's n.o.body like Grey.”
”How did Grey get in with him?”
”I believe he's a nephew of the man Ferguson used to work for. Besides he's got a way of getting round people. He's a humbug and a hypocrite.”