First Person Paramount Part 13

He whistled then faced me with a cunning smile. "You are new," he began. "Where is b.u.t.ts?"

"He left a month ago."

"What is your name?"

"Brown, sir?"

He nodded, eyeing me as a cat might a mouse. "You look a good sort," he declared presently. "How do you get on with my uncle, Brown?"

I affected to hesitate. "Fairly well, thank you, sir," I replied stammering a little.

"That means d.a.m.ned poorly," he retorted, nodding his head again. "Oh! I know him, Brown; I know him, you need'nt tell me. Why Brown, I'm his only living relative, his sole heir, and how do you think he treats me?"

"I'm sure I don't know, sir?"

"He allows me a paltry three hundred a year, on the condition that I live in Newhaven with a beastly solicitor fellow to whom he made me sign articles!"

"That seems very hard, sir."

"Hard, Brown," he cried, his eyes agleam, "Hard! you call it hard! Why the old monster is a millionaire, and as I told you before I am his only living relative!"

I put on an expression of shocked sympathy. "It is almost incredible!"

I gasped.

He gave me a grateful look. "It is true, though!" he declared, "true as gospel. And the only excuse he could rake up for doing it was that I outran the constable a bit at Oxford. He's the meanest old skin-flint in the United Kingdom!"

"I wish I could help you, sir," I murmured in my most reverential manner. "It seems very hard and really wrong, sir, that a nice handsome young gentleman like you, if you'll pardon me for speaking so, sir, to your face, should be tied up in a little village like Newhaven when you might be enjoying yourself and seeing life in London and Paris, sir!"

"As I ought to be," he cried hotly, evidently stirred to anger at my picture of his misfortune. "It's a cursed shame, Brown, a cursed shame!"

"It is indeed, sir. I only wish I could help you, sir."

He gave me a thoughtful look. "You never know," he muttered, "the mouse helped the lion!"

I nearly laughed in his face, but controlling the impulse I said instead--"And with the best of good will, sir!"

"You're a d.a.m.ned good fellow, Brown!" he cried with energy. "And when I am Sir Sefton Dagmar I shall not forget you." His voice sank into a low confidential key. "By the way, Brown, there is a small service you might render me."

"Anything," I answered eagerly, "I'd do anything for _you_, sir!"

He grinned with pleasure, the callow youth. "It's nothing much," he muttered. "Only I want you to tell me exactly how your master is--the state of his health, I mean. I can never get any satisfaction out of him, and I have a lot of friends who want to know." He sighed and frowned.

_Post obit_ bond-holders--was my reflection.

"I don't think he will live very long, sir," I whispered, looking nervously about me. "At night he coughs something dreadful, sir, and he just lives on medicines."

Mr. Sefton Dagmar's face looked for a moment like that of a happy cherub.

"Do you really think so, Brown?" he cried excitedly.

"I'm sure of it, sir."

"Well, see here, Brown, when he dies, I'll make you my man, if you like!"

"Will you really, sir?" I tried to look extravagantly delighted.

"Yes--and I'll give you twice as much screw as you get now, whatever he gives you. But for that I'll expect you to do some things for me in the meanwhile." He looked me keenly in the eyes.

"Anything at all, sir," I protested.

"Very good. I want you to drop me a line every week to tell me how he is, and if he takes any sudden turn for the worse you may send me a telegram."

"Certainly, sir. Is that all?"

"No!" He glanced anxiously towards the door. "No one can hear us, can they?"

"There's no one in the house, sir, but you and me."

"That's famous; well, Brown, see here, I'm heavily in debt and some of the beggars are pressing me into a corner. That's why I came up to town."

"Yes, sir!"

"And--and--" his face changed colour, "there is a woman too!" he stammered, "an actress!"

"There's always a woman, I should think, where a handsome young gentleman like you, sir, is concerned," I murmured with a sympathetic smile.

His vanity was tickled, but the conceited grin my words had called to his lips quickly faded into a look of anxiety. The matter was manifestly serious.

"They are the devil, Brown," he solemnly a.s.sured me. "This one has got me into a d.i.c.kens own mess, she's as pretty as a picture, Brown, but a perfect brute all the same!"

"Breach of promise, sir?"

He nodded, with a lugubrious frown. "I've been served with a writ," he muttered, "and there's nothing for it but to make a clean breast to the governor!"

"Can I help you in any way, sir?"

"I thought you might have something to suggest as to how I should broach it to him, Brown. When is he in the best humour--morning, afternoon or evening?"

"If you'd take my advice, sir," I replied, "you'll not tell your uncle at all, sir. He can't last long, and I should think that, as you are a lawyer, you ought to be able to stave off the proceedings for a month or so. If you were to confess, he'd be bound to be terribly annoyed, and the odds are he'd do you some injury in his will. He knows he is dying, sir."

Mr. Sefton Dagmar turned quite pale. "I never thought of that!" he cried. "By Jove, so he might. He might cut me off with a s.h.i.+lling. The entail is barred long enough ago."

I was dying to get him out of the house, if only for half an hour. I had hit upon the tail end of a plan.

"It would never do to run such a risk!" I a.s.sured him. "And if you'll allow me to guide you, sir, you'll run away at once. He will be here in a minute, and the odds are that he'll come in bad tempered."

"I'll go!" he replied. "But, Brown, I'd like to see him, just to be sure how he is looking."