"I met Mr. Darrell only last night, at a very genteel party." (Poole deeined it prudent not to say by WHOM that genteel party was given, for it will be remembered that Poole had been Jasper's confidant in that adventurer's former designs upon Mrs. Haughton; and if Jasper knew that Poole had made her acquaintance, might he not insist upon Poole's reintroducing him as a visiting acquaintance?) "A very genteel party," repeated Poole. "I made a point of being presented to Mr. Darrell, and very polite he was at first."
"Curse his politenessget to the point."
"I sounded my way very carefully, as you may suppose; and when I had got him into friendly chat, you understand, I began; Ah! my poor Losely, nothing to be done therehe flew off in a tangentas much as desired me to mind my own business, and hold my tongue; and upon my life, I don't think there is a chance for you in that quarter."
"Very wellwe shall see. Next, have you taken any steps to find out the girl, my daughter?"
"I have, I assure you. But you give me so slight a clue. Are you quite sure she is not in America after all?"
"I have told you before that that story about America was all bosh! a stratagem of the old gentleman's to deceive me. Poor old man," continued Jasper, in a tone that positively betrayed feeling, "I don't wonder that he dreads and flies me; yet I would not hurt him more than I have done, even to be as well off as you areblinking at me from your mahogany perch like a pet owl with its crop full of mice. And if I would take the girl from him, it is for her own good. For if Darrell could be got to make a provision on her, and, through her, on myself, why, of course the old man should share the benefit of it. And now that these infernal pains often keep me awake half the night, I can't always shut out the idea of that old man wandering about the world, and dying in a ditch. And that runaway girlto whom, I dare swear, he would give away his last crumb of breadought to be an annuity to us both: Basta, basta! As to the American storyI had a friend at Paris, who went to America on a speculation; I asked him to inquire about this Willaim Waife and his granddaughter Sophy, who were said to have sailed for New York nearly five years ago, and he saw the very personssettled in New Yorkno longer under the name of Waife, but their true name of Simpson, and got out from the man that they had been induced to take their passage from England in the name of Waife, at the request of a person whom the mail would not-give up, but to whom he said he was under obligations. Perhaps the old gentleman had done the fellow a kind turn in early life. The description of this /soi-disant/ Waife and his grandchild settles the matterwholly unlike those I seek; so that there is every reason to suppose they must still be in England, and it is your business to find them. Continue your searchquicken your witslet me be better pleased with your success when I call again this day weekand meanwhile four pounds, if you pleaseas much more as you like."
"Curse his politenessget to the point."
"I sounded my way very carefully, as you may suppose; and when I had got him into friendly chat, you understand, I began; Ah! my poor Losely, nothing to be done therehe flew off in a tangentas much as desired me to mind my own business, and hold my tongue; and upon my life, I don't think there is a chance for you in that quarter."
"Very wellwe shall see. Next, have you taken any steps to find out the girl, my daughter?"
"I have, I assure you. But you give me so slight a clue. Are you quite sure she is not in America after all?"
"I have told you before that that story about America was all bosh! a stratagem of the old gentleman's to deceive me. Poor old man," continued Jasper, in a tone that positively betrayed feeling, "I don't wonder that he dreads and flies me; yet I would not hurt him more than I have done, even to be as well off as you areblinking at me from your mahogany perch like a pet owl with its crop full of mice. And if I would take the girl from him, it is for her own good. For if Darrell could be got to make a provision on her, and, through her, on myself, why, of course the old man should share the benefit of it. And now that these infernal pains often keep me awake half the night, I can't always shut out the idea of that old man wandering about the world, and dying in a ditch. And that runaway girlto whom, I dare swear, he would give away his last crumb of breadought to be an annuity to us both: Basta, basta! As to the American storyI had a friend at Paris, who went to America on a speculation; I asked him to inquire about this Willaim Waife and his granddaughter Sophy, who were said to have sailed for New York nearly five years ago, and he saw the very personssettled in New Yorkno longer under the name of Waife, but their true name of Simpson, and got out from the man that they had been induced to take their passage from England in the name of Waife, at the request of a person whom the mail would not-give up, but to whom he said he was under obligations. Perhaps the old gentleman had done the fellow a kind turn in early life. The description of this /soi-disant/ Waife and his grandchild settles the matterwholly unlike those I seek; so that there is every reason to suppose they must still be in England, and it is your business to find them. Continue your searchquicken your witslet me be better pleased with your success when I call again this day weekand meanwhile four pounds, if you pleaseas much more as you like."
"Why, I gave you four pounds the other day, besides six pounds for clothes; it can't be gone."
"Every penny."
"Dear, dear! can't you maintain yourself anyhow? Can't you get any one to play at cards? Four pounds! Why, with your talent for whist, four pounds are a capital!"
"Whom can I play with! Whom can I herd with? Cracksmen and pickpockets. Fit me out; ask me to your own house; invite your own friends; make up a rubber, and you will then see what I can do with four pounds; and may go shares if you like, as we used to do."
"Don't talk so loud. Losely, you know very well that what you ask is impossible. I've turned over a new leaf."
"But I've still got your handwriting on the old leaf."
"What's the good of these stupid threats? If you really wanted to do me a mischief, where could you go to, and who'd believe you?"
"I fancy your wife would. I'll try. Hillo"
"Stopstopstop. No row here, sir. No scandal. Hold your tongue, or I'll send for the police."
"Do! Nothing I should like better. I'm tired out. I want to tell my own story at the Old Bailey, and have my revenge upon you, upon Darrell, upon all. Send for the police."
Losely threw himself at length on the sofa(new morocco with spring cushions)and folded his arms.
"You could only give me five minutesthey are gone, I fear. I am more liberal. I give you your own time to consider. I don't care if I stay to dine; I dare say Mrs. Poole will excuse my dress."
"Losely, you are such afellow! If I do give you the four pounds you ask, will you promise to shift for yourself somehow, and molest me no more?"
"Certainly not. I shall come once every week for the same sum. I can't live upon lessuntil"
"Until what?"
"Until either you get Mr. Darrell to settle on me a suitable provision; or until you place me in possession of my daughter, and I can then be in a better condition to treat with him myself; for if I would make a claim on account of the girl, I must produce the girl, or he may say she is dead. Besides, if she be as pretty as she was when a child, the very sight of her might move him more than all my talk."
"And if I succeed in doing anything with Mr. Darrell, or discovering your daughter, you will give up all such letters and documents of mine as you say you possess?"
"'Say I possess!' I have shown them to you in this pocket-book, Dolly Pooleyour own proposition to rob old Latham's safe."
Poole eyed the book, which the ruffian took out and tapped. Had the ruffian been a slighter man, Poole would have been a braver one. As it washe eyed and groaned. "Turn against one's own crony! So unhandsome, so unlike what I thought you were."
"It is you who would turn against me. But stick to Darrell or find me my daughter, and help her and me to get justice out of him; and you shall not only have back these letters, but I'll pay you handsomely handsomely, Dolly Poole. Zooks, sirI am fallen, but I am always a gentleman."
Therewith Losely gave a vehement slap to his hat, which, crushed by the stroke, improved his general appearance into an aspect so outrageously raffish, that but for the expression of his countenance the contrast between the boast and the man would have been ludicrous even to Mr. Poole. The countenance was too dark to permit laughter. In the dress, but the ruin of fortunein the face, the ruin of man. Poole heaved a deep sigh, and extended four sovereigns.
Losely rose and took them carelessly. "This day week," he saidshook himselfand went his way.
CHAPTER VI
FRESH TOUCHES TO THE THREE VIGNETTES FOR THE BOOK OF BEAUTY.
Weeks passedthe London season was beginningDarrell had decided nothingthe prestige of his position was undiminished,in politics, perhaps higher. He had succeeded in reconciling some great men; he had strengthenedit might be saveda jarring cabinet. In all this he had shown admirable knowledge of mankind, and proved that time and disuse had not lessened his powers of perception. In his matrimonial designs, Darrell seemed more bent than ever upon the hazardirresolute as ever on the choice of a partner. Still the choice appeared to be circumscribed to the fair three who had been subjected to Colonel Morley's speculative criticismLady Adela, Miss Vipont, Flora Vyvyan. Much pro and con might be said in respect to each. Lady Adela was so handsome that it was a pleasure to look at her; and that is much when one sees the handsome face every day,provided the pleasure does not wear off. She had the reputation of a very good temper; and the expression of her countenance confirmed it. There, panegyric stopped; but detraction did not commence. What remained was inoffensive commonplace. She had no salient attribute, and no ruling passion. Certainly she would never have wasted a thought on Mr. Darrell, nor have discovered a single merit in him, if he had not been quoted as a very rich man of high character in search of a wife, and if her father had not said to her: "Adela, Mr. Darrell has been greatly struck with your appearancehe told me so. He is not young, but he is still a very fine looking man, and you are twenty-seven. 'Tis a greater distinction to be noticed by a person of his years and position, than by a pack of silly young fellows, who think more of their own pretty faces than they would ever do of yours."