Part 16 (1/2)

Rochester had been plucked right and left by these harpies. He had received five thousand pounds for land worth a million from the father, he had paid eight thousand, or a good part of eight thousand to the daughter. Fine business that!

I compared Jones, when he was fighting Voles, to a terrier. He had a good deal of the terrier in his composition, the honesty, the rooting out instinct, and the fury before vermin. Men run in animal groups, and if you study animals you will be surprised by nothing so much as the old race fury that breaks out in the most civilized animal before the old race quarry or enemy.

For a few seconds, as he paced the floor, Jones was in the mental condition of a dog in proximity to a hutched badger. Then he began to think clearly. The obvious fact before him was that Voles, the Plinlimons and Mulhausen were a gang; the presumptive fact was that the money paid in blackmail had gone back to Mulhausen, or at least a great part of it.

Was Mulhausen the spider of the web? Were all the rest his tools and implements?

Jones had a good deal of instinctive knowledge of women. He did not in his heart believe that a woman could be so utterly vile as to use love letters directed to her for the purpose of extracting money from the man who wrote them. Or rather that, whilst she might use them, it was improbable that she would invent the method. The whole business had the stamp of a mind masculine and utterly unscrupulous. Even at first he had glimpsed this vaguely, when he considered it probable that Lord Plinlimon had a hand in the affair.

”Now,” thought Jones, ”if I could bring this home to Mulhausen, I could squeeze back that coal mine from him. I could sure.”

He sat down and lit another cigar to a.s.sist him in dealing with this problem.

It was very easy to say ”squeeze Mulhausen,” it was a different thing to do it. He came to this conclusion after a few minutes' earnest concentration of mind on that problematical person. Hitherto he had been dealing with small men and wasters. Voles was a plain scoundrel, quite easily overthrown by direct methods. But Marcus Mulhausen he guessed to be a big man. The first thing to be done was to verify this supposition.

He rang the bell and sent for Mr. Church.

”Come in,” said he, when the latter appeared, ”and shut the door. I want to ask you something.”

”Yes, my Lord.”

”It's just this. I want you to tell me what you think of Lord Plinlimon, and what you have heard said about him. I have my own opinions--I want yours.”

”Well, my Lord,” began Church. ”It's not for me to say anything against his Lords.h.i.+p, but since you ask me I will say that it's generally the opinion that his Lords.h.i.+p is a bit--soft.”

”Do you think he's straight?”

”Yes, my Lord--that is to say--”

”Spit it out,” said Jones.

”Well, my Lord, he owes money, that's well known; and I've heard it said a good deal of money has been lost at cards in his house, but not through his fault. Indeed, you yourself said something to me to that effect, my Lord.”

”Yes, so I did--But what I want to get at is this. Do you think he's a man who would do a scoundrelly thing--that's plain?”

”Oh, no, my Lord, he's straight enough. It's the other party.”

”Meaning his wife?”

”No, my Lord--her brother, Mr. Julian.”

”Ah!”

Church warmed a bit. ”He's always about there, lives with them mostly.

You see, my Lord, he has no what you may call status of his own, but he manages to get known to people through her Ladys.h.i.+p.”

”Kind of sucker,” said Jones.

Mr. Church a.s.sented. The expression was new to him, but it seemed to apply.