Part 116 (2/2)
replied promptly in these exact words:
”Mr. Bite presents his compliments to Dr. Sampson to state that it is impossible for him to go into his case, nor to give him the time he requests to do so.”
Sampson was a little indignant at the man's insolence; but far more at having been duped by his public a.s.sumption of philanthropy. ”The little pragmatical impostor!” he roared. ”With what a sense o' relief th'
animal flings off the mask of humanity when there is no easy eclat to be gained by putting't on.” He sent the philanthropical Bite's revelation of his private self to Alfred, who returned it with this single remark: _”Homunculi quanti sunt!_”
Dishonest suitors all try to postpone; but they do not gain unmixed good thereby. These delays give time for more evidence to come in; and this slow coming and chance evidence is singularly adverse to the unjust suitor. Of this came a notable example in October next, and made Richard Hardie determined to precipitate the trial, and even regret he had not fought it out long ago.
He had just returned from consulting Messrs. Heathfield, and sat down to a nice little dinner in his apartments (Sackville Street), when a visitor was announced; and in came the slouching little figure of Mr.
Barkington, _alias_ Noah Skinner.
DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND.
Mr. Hardie suppressed a start, and said nothing. Skinner bowed low with a mixture of his old cringing way, and a certain sly triumphant leer, so that his body seemed to say one thing, and his face the opposite. Mr.
Hardie eyed him, and saw that his coat was rusty, and his hat napless: then Mr. Hardie smelt a beggar, and prepared to parry all attempts upon his purse.
”I hope I see my old master well,” said Skinner coaxingly.
”Pretty well in body, Skinner; thank you.”
”I had a deal of trouble to find you, sir. But I heard of the great lawsuit between Mr. Alfred and you, and I knew Mr. Heathfield was your solicitor; so I watched at his place day after day: and at last you came. Oh, I was so pleased when I saw your n.o.ble figure; but I wouldn't speak to you in the street for fear of disgracing you. I'm such a poor little guy to be addressing a gentleman like you.”
Now this sounded well on the surface, but below there was a subtle something Mr. Hardie did not like at all: but he took the cue, and said, ”My poor Skinner, do you think I would turn up my nose at a faithful old servant like you? Have a gla.s.s of wine with me, and tell me how you have been getting on.” He went behind a screen and opened a door, and soon returned with a decanter, leaving the door open. Now in the next room sat, unbeknown to Skinner, a young woman with white eyelashes, sewing b.u.t.tons on Mr. Hardie's s.h.i.+rts. That astute gentleman gave her instructions, and important ones too, with a silent gesture; then reappeared and filled the b.u.mper high to his faithful servant. They drank one another's healths with great cordiality, real or apparent. Mr.
Hardie then asked Skinner carelessly, if he could do anything for him.
Skinner said, ”Well, sir, I am very poor.”
”So am I, between you and me,” said Mr. Hardie confidentially; ”I don't mind telling you; those confounded Commissioners of Lunacy wrote to Alfred's trustees, and I have been forced to replace a loan of five thousand pounds. That Board always sides with the insane. That crippled me, and drove me to the Exchange: and now what I had left is all invested in time-bargains. A month settles my fate: a little fortune, or absolute beggary.”
”You'll be lucky, sir, you'll be lucky,” said Skinner cheerfully; ”you have such a long head; not like poor little me; the Exchange soon burnt my wings. Not a s.h.i.+lling left of the thousand pounds, sir, you were so good as to give me for my faithful services. But you will give me another chance, sir, I know; I'll take better care this time.” Mr.
Hardie shook his head sorrowfully, and said it was impossible. Skinner eyed him askant, and remarked quietly, and half aside, ”Of course, I _could_ go to the other party: but I shouldn't like to do that. They would come down handsome.”
”What other party?”
”La, sir, what other party? Why Mrs. Dodd's, or Mr. Alfred's; here's the trial coming on, you know, and of course if they could get me to go on the box and tell all I know, or half what I know, why the judge and jury would say locking Mr. Alfred up for mad was a conspiracy.”
Mr. Hardie quaked internally: but he hid it grandly, and once more was a Spartan gnawed beneath his robe by this little fox. ”What,” said he sternly, ”after all I and mine have done for you and yours, would you be so base as to go and sell yourself to my enemies?”
”Never, sir,” shouted Skinner zealously: then in a whisper, ”Not if you'll make a bid for me.”
”How much do you demand?”
”Only another thousand, sir?”
”A thousand pounds!”
”Why, what is that to you, sir? you are rich enough to buy the eighth commandment out of the tables of ten per cent.: and then the lawsuit, Hardies _versus_ Hardies!”
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