Elster's Folly by Mrs. Henry Wood (most important books to read TXT) 📖

Of That

Name Was With Messrs. Kedge And Reck,  Of Gray's Inn,  Either As Clerk,  Or

In Some Other Capacity; And When He Described This Clerk Of Yours,  I Felt

Nearly Sure That It Was The Man I Am Looking For. I Got Taylor To Make

Inquiries,  And He Did,  I Believe,  Of One Of Your Clerks; But He Could

Learn Nothing,  Except That No One Of That Name Was Connected With You

Now. Taylor Persists That He Is Or Was Connected With You; And So

I Thought The Shortest Plan To Settle The Matter Was To Ask Yourselves."

 

"We Have No Clerk Of That Name," Repeated Mr. Kedge,  Pushing Back Some

Papers On The Table. "Never Had One."

 

"Understand," Said Mr. Carr,  Thinking It Just Possible The Lawyer Might

Be Mistaking His Motives,  "I Have Nothing To Allege Against The Man,  And

Do Not Seek To Injure Him. The Real Fact Is,  That I Do Not Want To See

Him Or To Be Brought Into Personal Contact With Him; I Only Want To Know

Whether He Is In London,  And,  If So,  Where?"

 

"I Assure You He Is Not Connected With Us," Repeated Mr. Kedge. "I Would

Tell You So In A Moment If He Were."

 

"Then I Can Only Apologise For Having Troubled You," Said The Barrister,

Rising. "Taylor Must Have Been Mistaken. And Yet I Would Have Backed His

Word,  When He Positively Asserts A Thing,  Against The World. I Hardly

Ever Knew Him Wrong."

 

Mr. Kedge Was Playing With The Locket On His Watch-Chain,  His Head Bent

In Thought.

 

"Wait A Moment,  Mr. Carr. I Remember Now That We Took A Clerk Temporarily

Into The Office In The Latter Part Of Last Year. His Writing Did Not

Suit,  And We Kept Him Only A Week Or Two. I Don't Know What His Name Was,

But It Might Have Been Gordon."

 

"Do You Remember What Sort Of A Man He Was?" Asked Mr. Carr,  Somewhat

Eagerly.

 

"I Really Do Not. You See,  I Don't Come Much Into Contact With Our

Clerks. Reck Does; But He's Not Here To-Day. I Fancy He Had Red Hair."

 

"Gordon Had Reddish Hair."

 

"You Had Better See Kimberly," Said The Solicitor,  Ringing A Bell. "He Is

Our Managing Clerk,  And Knows Everything."

 

A Grey-Haired,  Silent-Looking Man Came In With Stooping Shoulders. Mr.

Kedge,  Without Any Circumlocution,  Asked Whether He Remembered Any Clerk

Of The Name Of Gordon Having Been In The House. Mr. Kimberly Responded By

Saying That They Never Had One In The House Of The Name.

 

"Well,  I Thought Not," Observed The Principal. "There Was One Had In For

A Short Time,  You Know,  While Hopkins Was Ill. I Forget His Name."

 

"His Name Was Druitt,  Sir. We Employed A Man Of The Name Of Gorton To Do

Some Outdoor Business For Us At Times," Continued The Managing Clerk,

Turning His Eyes On The Barrister; "But Not Lately."

 

"What Sort Of Business?"

 

"Serving Writs."

 

"Gorton Is Not Gordon," Remarked Mr. Kedge,  With Legal Acumen. "By The

Way,  Kimberly,  I Have Heard Nothing Of Gorton Lately. What Has Become Of

Him?"

 

"I Have Not The Least Idea,  Sir. We Parted In A Huff,  So He Wouldn't

Perhaps Be Likely To Come In My Way Again. Some Business That He

Mismanaged,  If You Remember,  Sir,  Down At Calne."

 

"When He Arrested One Man For Another," Laughed The Lawyer,  "And Got

Entangled In A Coroner's Inquest,  And I Don't Know What All."

 

Mr. Carr Had Pricked Up His Ears,  Scarcely Daring To Breathe. But His

Manner Was Careless To A Degree.

 

"The Man He Arrested Being Lord Hartledon; The Man He Ought To Have

Arrested Being The Honourable Percival Elster," He Interposed,  Laughing.

 

"What! Do You Know About It?" Cried The Lawyer.

 

"I Remember Hearing Of It; I Was Intimate With Mr. Elster At The Time."

 

"He Has Since Become Lord Hartledon."

 

"Yes. But About This Gorton! I Should Not Be In The Least Surprised If He

Is The Man I Am Inquiring For. Can You Describe Him To Me,  Mr. Kimberly?"

 

"He Is A Short,  Slight Man,  Under Thirty,  With Red Hair And Whiskers."

 

Mr. Carr Nodded.

 

"Light Hair With A Reddish Tinge It Has Been Described To Me. Do You

Happen To Be At All Acquainted With His Antecedents?"

 

"Not I; I Know Nothing About,  The Man," Said Mr. Kedge. "Kimberly Does,

Perhaps."

 

"No,  Sir," Dissented Kimberly. "He Had Been To Australia,  I Believe; And

That's All I Know About Him."

 

"It Is The Same Man," Said Mr. Carr,  Quietly. "And If You Can Tell Me

Anything About Him," He Continued,  Turning To The Older Man,  "I Shall Be

Exceedingly Obliged To You. To Begin With--When Did You First Know Him?"

 

But At This Juncture An Interruption Occurred. Hopkins The Discourteous

Came In With A Card,  Which He Presented To His Principal. The Gentleman

Was Waiting To See Mr. Kedge. Two More Clients Were Also Waiting,  He

Added,  Thomas Carr Rose,  And The End Of It Was That He Went With Mr.

Kimberly To His Own Room.

 

"It's Carr Of The Inner Temple," Whispered Mr. Kedge In His Clerk's Ear.

 

"Oh,  I Know Him,  Sir."

 

"All Right. If You Can Help Him,  Do So."

 

"I First Knew Gorton About Fifteen Months Ago," Observed The Clerk,  When

They Were Shut In Together. "A Friend Of Mine,  Now Dead,  Spoke Of Him To

Me As A Respectable Young Fellow Who Had Fallen In The World,  And Asked

If I Could Help Him To Some Employment. I Think He Told Me Somewhat Of

His History; But I Quite Forget It. I Know He Was Very Low Down Then,

With Scarcely Bread To Eat."

 

"Did This Friend Of Yours Call Him Gorton Or Gordon?" Interrupted Mr.

Carr.

 

"Gorton. I Never Heard Him Called Gordon At All. I Remember Seeing A

Book Of His That He Seemed To Set Some Store By. It Was Printed In Old

English,  And Had His Name On The Title-Page: 'George Gorton. From His

Affectionate Father,  W. Gorton.' I Employed Him In Some Outdoor Work.

He Knew London Perfectly Well,  And Seemed To Know People Too."

 

"And He Had Been To Australia?"

 

"He Had Been To Australia,  I Feel Sure. One Day He Accidentally Let Slip

Some Words About Melbourne,  Which He Could Not Well Have Done Unless He

Had Seen The Place. I Taxed Him With It,  And He Shuffled Out Of It With

Some Excuse; But In Such A Manner As To Convince Me He Had Been There."

 

"And Now,  Mr. Kimberly,  I Am Going To Ask You Another Question. You Spoke

Of His Having Been At Calne; I Infer That You Sent Him To The Place On

The Errand To Mr. Elster. Try To Recollect Whether His Going There Was

Your Own Spontaneous Act,  Or Whether He Was The Original Mover In The

Journey?"

 

The Grey-Haired Clerk Looked Up As Though Not Understanding.

 

"You Don't Quite Take Me,  I See."

 

"Yes I Do,  Sir; But I Was Thinking. So Far As I Can Recollect,  It Was Our

Own Spontaneous Act. I Am Sure I Had No Reason To Think Otherwise At The

Time. We Had Had A Deal Of Trouble With The Honourable Mr. Elster; And

When It Was Found That He Had Left Town For The Family Seat,  We Came To

The Resolution To Arrest Him."

 

Thomas Carr Paused. "Do You Know Anything Of Gordon's--Or Gorton's Doings

In Calne? Did You Ever Hear Him Speak Of Them Afterwards?"

 

"I Don't Know That I Did Particularly. The Excuse He Made To Us For

Arresting Lord Hartledon Was,  That The Brothers Were So Much Alike He

Mistook The One For The Other."

 

"Which Would Infer That He Knew Mr. Elster By Perhaps The Vigorous Dislike Of More Important Persons Than Bessie

Fairfax Is Sufficiently Accounted For. All The World Is Agreed That A

Slight Wound To Men's Self-Love Rankles Much Longer Than A Mortal

Injury.

 

It Is Not,  However,  To Be Supposed That The Beechhurst People Spited

Themselves So Far As To Keep Away From The Rector's School-Treat Because

They Did Not Love The Rector. (By The By,  It Was Not His Treat,  But Only

Buns And Tea By Subscription Distributed In His Grounds,  With The

Privilege Of Admittance To The Subscribers.) The Orthodox Gentility Of

The Neighborhood Assembled In Force For The Occasion When The Sun Shone

Upon It As It Shone To-Day,  And The Entertainment Was An Event For

Children Of All Classes. If The Richer Sort Did Not Care For Buns,  They

Did For Games; And The Carnegie Boys Were So Eager To Lose None Of The

Sport That They Coaxed Bessie To Take Time By The Forelock,  And

Presented Themselves Almost First On The Scene. Mrs. Wiley,  Ready And

Waiting Out Of Doors To Welcome Her More Distinguished Guests,  Met A

Trio Of The Little Folks,  In Bessie's Charge,  Trotting Round The End Of

The House To Reach The Lawn.

 

"Always In Good Time,  Bessie Carnegie," Said She. "But Is Not Your

Mother Coming?"

 

"No,  Thank You,  Mrs. Wiley," Said Bessie With Prim Decorum.

 

"By The By,  That Is Not Your Name. What Is Your Name,  Bessie?"

 

"Elizabeth Fairfax."

 

"Ah! Yes; Now I Remember--Elizabeth Fairfax. And Is Your Uncle Pretty

Well? I Suppose We Shall See Him Later In The Day? He Ought To Look In

Upon Us Before We Break Up. There! Run Away To The Children In The

Orchard,  And Leave The Lawn Clear."

 

Bessie Accepted Her Dismissal Gladly,  Thankful To Escape The

Catechetical Ordeal That Would Have Ensued Had There Been Leisure For

It. She Was Almost As Shy Of The Rector's Wife As Of The Rector. Mrs.

Wiley Had A Brusque,  Absent Manner,  And It Was A Trick Of Hers To Expose

Her Young Acquaintance To A Fire Of Questions,  Of Which She As Regularly

Forgot The Answers. She Had Often Affronted Bessie Fairfax By Asking Her

Real Name,  And In The Next Breath Calling Her Affably Bessie Carnegie,

The Doctor's Step-Daughter,  Niece Or Other Little Kinswoman Whom He Kept

As A Help In His House For Charity's Sake.

 

Bessie Had But Faint Recollections Of The Rectory As Her Home,  For Since

Her Father's Death She Had Never Gone There Except As A Visitor On

Public Days. But The Tradition Was Always In Her Memory That Once She

Had Lived In Those Pleasant Rooms,  Had Run Up And Down Those Broad Sunny

Stairs,  And Played On The Spacious Lawns Of That Mossy,  Tree-Shadowed

Garden. In The Orchard Had Assembled,  Besides The Children,  A Group Of

Their Ex-Teachers--Miss Semple And Her Sister,  The Village Dressmakers,

Miss Genet,  The Daughter At The Post-Office,  And The Two Miss

Mittens--Well-Behaved And Well-Instructed Young Persons Whom Mr. Wiley's

Predecessors Had Been Pleased To Employ,  But For Whom Mrs. Wiley Found

No Encouragement. She Had The Ordering Of The School,  And Preferred

Gentlewomen For Her Lay-Sisters. She Had Them,  And Only Herself Knew

What Trouble In Keeping Them Punctual To Their Duty And In Keeping The

Peace Amongst Them. There Was Dear Fat Miss Buff,  Who Had Been Right

Hand In Succession To Mr. Fairfax,  Mr. Roebuck And Mr. Hutton,  Who

Adored Supremacy,  And Exercised It With The Easy Sway Of Long Usage; She

Felt Herself Pushed On One Side By That Ardent Young Irish Recruit,  Miss

Thusy O'flynn,  Whose Peculiar Temper No One Cared To Provoke,  And Who

Ruled By The Terror Of It With A Caprice That Was Trying In The Last

Degree. Miss Buff Gave Way To Her,  But Not Without Grumbling,  Appealing,

And Threatening To Withdraw Her Services. But She Loved Her Work In The

School And In The Choir,  And Could Not Bear To Punish Herself Or Let

Miss Thusy Triumph To The Extent Of Driving Her Into Private Life; So

She Adhered To Her Charge In The Hope Of Better Days,  When She Would

Again Be Mistress Paramount. And The Same Did Miss Wort--Also One Of The

Old Governing Body--The New Gunpowder

Besides Being Smokeless Is Ashless. There Is No Black Sticky Mass Of

Potassium Salts Left To Foul The Gun Barrel.

 

The Gunpowder Period Of Warfare Was Actively Initiated At The Battle Of

Cressy,  In Which,  As A Contemporary Historian Says,  "The English Guns

Made Noise Like Thunder And Caused Much Loss In Men And Horses."

Smokeless Powder As Invented By Paul Vieille Was Adopted By The French

Government In 1887. This,  Then,  Might Be Called The Beginning Of The

Guncotton Or Nitrocellulose Period--Or,  Perhaps In Deference To The

Caveman's Club,  The Second Cellulose Period Of Human Warfare. Better,

Doubtless,  To Call It The "High Explosive Period," For Various Other

Nitro-Compounds Besides Guncotton Are Being Used.

 

The Important Thing To Note Is That All The Explosives From Gunpowder

Down Contain Nitrogen As The Essential Element. It Is Customary To Call

Nitrogen "An Inert Element" Because It Was Hard To Get It Into

Combination With Other Elements. It Might,  On The Other Hand,  Be Looked

Upon As An Active Element Because It Acts So Energetically In Getting

Out Of Its Compounds. We Can Dodge The Question By Saying That Nitrogen

Is A Most Unreliable And Unsociable