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The Queen's Scarlet, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 1. Head First |
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_ CHAPTER ONE. HEAD FIRST Two rooks flew over the Cathedral Close, and as they neared the old square Norman tower they cawed in a sneering way. That was enough. Out like magic came the jackdaws from hole and corner--snapping, snarling, and barking birdily--to join in a hue and cry as they formed a pack to drive away the bucolic intruders who dared to invade the precincts sacred to daws from the beginning of architectural time; and this task over, they returned to sit on corbel, leaden spout, crevice, and ledge, to erect the feathers of their powdered heads and make remarks to one another, till the chimes rang out and the big bell boomed the hour. "Bother Mark!" said Richard Frayne, Baronet. "If he had ten thousand a year, he'd spend twenty. I can't do it, and I won't." Richard Frayne puckered up his brow and began reading away at Lord Wolseley's Red Book--after being interrupted by the jackdaws--trying to master the puzzling military details, but finding it impossible while his brain was full of his cousin's money troubles; and at last, in despair, he pitched the little leather-covered book aside, walked to the side-table, took his handsome flute from its case, set up a piece of music on a stand, and began to run through a few preliminary flourishes that were peculiarly bird-like in their trilling, when there was a tap at the door and Jerry Brigley thrust in his head. "Wants to see you, sir." "Who does?" said Richard, hurriedly putting aside his flute. Jerry held out a card. "'Isaac Simpson, clerical and military tailor,'" read the young man. "What does he want with me?" Then, quickly: "Oh! of course! I know. Show him in." A little, stoutish, smooth man, in shiny broadcloth and a profuse perspiration, entered directly after, carrying a brown leather handbag and his hat, which he took from his left finger and thumb and used to make a most deferential bow. There he stood, smiling and sleek, dabbing his face with a red silk handkerchief. "Very hot morning, sir, and your room's a bit 'igh." "You wanted to see me?" said Richard rather distantly. "Well, yes, sir--begging your pardon, sir. By Mr Mark Frayne's introduction, sir. Said business was business, and I might venture to call, sir. Been Mr Mark Frayne's tailor, sir, three years come next quarter, sir; and I've ventured to bring my new patterns with me, sir." "My cousin should have spoken to me first, Mr Simpson," said Richard, "and I could have saved you this trouble." "Trouble, sir? Oh! dear me, no, sir! It's a pleasure to me to have the honour. You see, I almost knew you personally though before, sir: Mr Mark Frayne was always talking about you and your country place. Now, I have here, sir," said the visitor, rattling open his patterns like a card-trick, "some fashions that only come down by post this morning, sir; and I said to myself, 'Here's your opportunity. You can't expect a gentleman as has his garments from Servile Row to care about goods as every counter-jumper in Primchilsea has seen. Go and let him have the first selection.'" "Thank you, Mr Simpson," said Richard, coldly, as he thought of his cousin and the money; "I have no reason for exchanging my tailor. Greatly obliged to you for calling." "No trouble, sir; no trouble--a pleasure, as one may say. I thought I'd bring all the patterns as I was coming. Then shall we settle that other little bit of business, sir, at once? Some other time, p'raps, you may be able to give me a line." "What other business?" said Richard, flushing a little. "That little affair of the money, sir." "I have nothing to do with Mr Mark Frayne's affairs," said Richard, warmly. "Oh, sir, don't say that to a poor tradesman, sir!" said the tailor, shaking his head reproachfully, as he reopened the little handbag and drew a flat bill-case of large size from among the cards of patterns. "Mr Mark said if I would make it a bit easy, and drew at three, six, and nine, you would put your name to the paper, and there would be no more trouble." "My cousin had no right to say such a thing to you!" cried Richard. "Oh, sir, don't say that; it's such a little amount to a gentleman! I have drawn it in three bills, a heighty and two fifties--hundred and heighty! Why, it ain't worth thinking about twice for a gentleman like you! Ha, ha, ha! it's like making three bites of a cherry!" "How much?" said Richard. "Total, hundred and eighty-three--five--six, with the stamps, sir," said the tailor, producing three slips of blue paper. "My cousin said he owed you only about eighty pounds!" cried Richard. "For clothes, sir," said the tailor, with a deprecating smile. "The hundred was the cash advanced to oblige you, sir, as a gentleman." "What!" "The hundred I advanced for you two, Sir Richard." "For us two? My good fellow, I had none of the money." "Oh, sir, don't say that!" cried the tailor, reproachfully. "Of course, I know that gents wants a little money extry sometimes, and that it's a tradesman's dooty to help and oblige a customer if he can; and I did." "But--but--" "Don't, sir; please don't--you hurt me! I respect Mr Mark Frayne very much; but you can't know him without seeing as he's a bit too free with his money, and I should never have dreamed of letting him have it if it hadn't been for you, sir." "It was not for me!" cried Richard, who was regularly roused and indignant now. "I have nothing whatever to do with my cousin's debts." "Oh, sir, please don't! I have not come for the money now, though it would be very convenient, for wholesale houses objects to waiting. There you are, you see! You have only to sign the three bits of paper, and there'll be no more trouble for you at all." "But, look here," cried Richard, angrily, "you are insinuating that I received part of this money!" "Wouldn't it be better, Sir Richard, to say no more about it?" said the tailor. "Money is money, sir; gold's gold; and, as for silver, why it's quicksilver, ain't it, now? Of course, I know what young gents is, as I said before; and I don't want to make any trouble about it." "But listen," said Richard, trying to be quite calm and cool. "Do I understand you aright?" "Oh, yes, sir; I'm right about money." "That I shared the borrowed money?" "Why, sir," said the man with a smile, "you don't suppose I should have lent it to Mr Mark Frayne, whose father's only a poor parson? Not me!" "Then you lent it to him because you believed I was to have part?" "I lent it to you, sir, because I knew you was a barrynet, and would come in for your money in three or four years' time, and, of course, to oblige you--being short." "But--" "For I says to myself, 'There's the money a-doing nothing in the bank, and it's obliging a gent who won't be above orderin' a few garments to make up for you obliging him, and--'" "Confound you! will you let me speak?" cried Richard angrily. "Of course, sir. Glad to hear you speak, and sorry I come at an inconvenient time, when you were busy with your music; and--let me see-- didn't Mr Mark say something about your wanting the cash to buy a new pianner? Or was it an old fiddle? I quite forget, sir; that I do." "Will you be silent a minute? Did my cousin say that money was for me?" "Oh, yes, sir; or I shouldn't have--" "Then it was a lie--an abominable lie!" cried Richard, in a rage. "Sign those papers and acknowledge that I had the money? No! So you can be off, and tell him so." Mr Isaac Simpson screwed up his face, bent over the table, and carefully spread the three oblongs of blue paper out, one above the other, holding the ends down, and smoothing them out slowly. "Well," cried Richard, hotly, "do you hear what I say?" "Oh, yes, Sir Richard Frayne, Baronet, I hear what you say," replied the tailor: "but I was a-thinking, sir." "Then go and think somewhere else." "No, sir; I can't do that, because, you see, I'm thinking about you. Here's 'undred and eighty-odd pound of a poor man's hard-earned money, most part of which you owe me." "It is false! I don't owe you a penny." The tailor shook his head. "I can't afford to lose it, Sir Richard; and you can't say but what I want to make it easy for you with them bills." "I do not want anything made easy for me," cried the young man; "I can pay my just debts." "And, don't you see, sir, it wouldn't be pleasant for you if I was to write to your parents and guardians--leastwise, as you have no parents, your guardians--and ask them?" "Write to them, and so will I." "But I don't want to do such a shabby thing about a gent as I've tried to oblige." "I tell you I never authorised anyone to borrow money for me, sir." "Well, Sir Richard Frayne, Baronet, there's the transaction down in a neat handwriting in my book, and I give a cheque for it, and there's the cheque as come back from the bank with your name on the back, as well as Mr Mark Frayne's on the receipt." "What?" "As afore said, sir; and people--I mean your lawyers and guardians--'ll believe it. They won't be so shabby as to say you were under age when they have lots of your money in trust." Richard stared at the man, half-stunned. "There, Sir Richard, don't let's make a fuss and a lot of unpleasantry about a trumpery little amount like that, when it is all so easy for you." "I say I've never had the money. Go to Mr Mark Frayne." "But don't you see as that's as good as saying he's been a-swindlin' of me? And if I goes to my lawyer and lays it all before him, he'll be for putting it in court, or p'raps worse; and it would go very hard on Mr Mark. I'm afraid they wouldn't treat it as if it were a debt; they might say--" "Silence!" "That's what I says, sir. His father a parson, too; and it wouldn't do Mr Draycott no good. Hadn't you better sign?" "Without seeing my cousin first and making him explain? No. Take away your papers at once." "To my lawyers, sir?" Richard hesitated. "No," he said at last. "I'll see my cousin, and bring him on to you." "Ah! Now that's talking sensible, sir. We can settle it, of course. Why, it would be such a mad thing to go to lawyers and make expenses, and have a reg'lar trouble, when your name on three bits of paper would save both of you from unpleasantry." "Both of us?" cried Richard. "Well, yes, sir, perhaps; for there's no knowing what people might say. They can be tidy hard on anyone as won't pay when he can." "That will do!" cried Richard angrily. "I have told you that I will see my cousin." "Ve--ry good, Sir Richard," said the tailor, carefully doubling up his slips of paper. "But hadn't you better sign now, and see him after?" "No." "Well, sir, you know best; but if it was my case, and I hadn't had the cash, I should sign, and then go and give my cousin the howdaciousest hiding he ever had. That's better than sending him to prison and before a judge. I wish you good-morning, sir--I suppose I ought to have said Sir Richard Frayne. I shall be at home all day to-morrow, sir, a-waiting on you." _ |
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