Part 117 (1/2)

”You have spoken plainly at last,” said Mr. Hardie grimly. ”This is extorting money by threats. Do you know that nothing is more criminal, nor more easy to punish? I can take you before a magistrate, and imprison you on the instant for this attempt. I will, too.”

”Try it,” said Skinner coolly. ”Where's your witness?”

”Behind that screen.”

Peggy came forward directly with a pen in her hand. Skinner was manifestly startled and disconcerted. ”I have taken all your words down, Mr. Skinner,” said Peggy softly; then to her master, ”Shall I go for a policeman, sir?”

Mr. Hardie reflected. ”Yes,” said he sternly: ”there's no other course with such a lump of treachery and ingrat.i.tude as this.”

Peggy whipped on her bonnet.

”What a hurry you are in,” whined Skinner: ”a policeman ought to be the last argument for old friends to run to.” Then, fawning spitefully, ”Don't talk of indicting me, sir,” said he; ”it makes me s.h.i.+ver: why how will you look when I up and tell them all how Captain Dodd was took with apoplexy in our office, and how you nailed fourteen thousand pounds off his senseless body, and forgot to put them down in your balance-sheet, so they are not whitewashed off like the rest.”

”Any witnesses to all this, Skinner?”

”Yes, sir.”

”Who?”

”Well; your own conscience _for one,_” said Skinner.

”He is mad, Peggy,” said Mr. Hardie, shrugging his shoulders. He then looked Skinner full in the face, and said, ”n.o.body was ever seized with apoplexy in my office. n.o.body ever gave me L. 14,000. And if this is the probable tale with which you come here to break the law and extort money, leave my house this instant: and if ever you dare to utter this absurd and malicious slander, you shall lie within four stone walls, and learn what it is for a shabby vagabond to come without a witness to his back, and libel a man of property and honour.”

Skinner let him run on in this loud triumphant strain till he had quite done; then put out a brown skinny finger, and poked him lightly in the ribs, and said quite quietly, and oh, so drily, with a knowing wink--

”I've--got--The Receipt.”

CHAPTER LI

MR. HARDIE collapsed as if he had been a man inflated, and that touch had punctured him. ”Ah!” said he. ”Ah!” said Skinner, in a mighty different tone: insolent triumph to wit.

After a pause, Mr. Hardie made an effort and said contemptuously, ”The receipt (if any) was flung into the dusthole and carried away. Do you think I have forgotten that?”

”Don't you believe it, sir,” was the reply. ”While you turned your back and sacked the money, I said to myself, 'Oho, is that the game?' and nailed the receipt. What a couple of scoundrels we were! I wouldn't have her know it for all your money. Come, sir, I see its all right; you will sh.e.l.l out sooner than be posted.”

Here Peggy interposed; ”Mr. Skinner, be more considerate; my master is really poor just now.”

”That is no reason why I should be insulted and indicted and trampled under foot,” snarled Skinner all in one breath.

”Show me the receipt and take my last s.h.i.+lling, you ungrateful, vindictive viper,” groaned Mr. Hardie.

”Stuff and nonsense,” said Skinner. ”I'm not a viper; I'm a man of business. Find me five hundred pounds; and I'll show you the receipt and keep dark. But I can't afford to give it you for that, of course.”

Skinner triumphed, and made the great man apologise, writhing all the time, and wis.h.i.+ng he was a day labourer with Peggy to wife, and fourteen honest s.h.i.+llings a week for his income. Having eaten humble pie, he agreed to meet Skinner next Wednesday at midnight, alone, under a certain lamp on the North Kensington Road: the interval (four days) he required to raise money upon his scrip. Skinner bowed himself out, fawning triumphantly. Mr. Hardie stood in the middle of the room motionless, scowling darkly. Peggy looked at him, and saw some dark and sinister resolve forming in his mind: she divined it, as such women can divine. She laid her hand on his arm, and said softly, ”Richard, it's not worth _that._” He started to find his soul read through his body so clearly. He trembled.

But it was only for a moment. ”His blood be on his own head,” he snarled. ”This is not my seeking. He shall learn what it is to drive Richard Hardie to despair.”

”No, no,” implored Peggy; ”there are other countries beside this: why not gather all you have, and cross the water? I'll follow you to the world's end, Richard.”