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"I've a pretty good notion," responded Pratt. "It's generally understood in the town that your son's a mere figure-head, and that you're the real boss of the whole show. I know that you're at the mill four times a week, and that the managers are under your thumb. I know that you manage everything connected with the estate. So, of course, I know you've lots of ready money at your disposal."
"And I know that you don't earn more than four or five pounds a week, at the outside," said Mrs. Mallathorpe quietly. "Come, now--just think what a nice, convenient thing it would be to a young man of your age to have--a capital. Capital! It would be the making of you. You could go right away--to London, say, and start out on whatever you liked. Be sensible--sell me that paper--and be done with the whole thing."
"No!" replied Pratt.
Mrs. Mallathorpe looked at him for a full moment. She was a shrewd judge of character, and she felt that Pratt was one of those men who are hard to stir from a position once adopted. But she had to make her effort--and she made it in what she thought the most effective way.
"I'll give you five thousand pounds--cash--for it," she said. "Meet me with it tomorrow--anywhere you like in the town--any time you like--and I'll hand you the money--in notes."
"No!" said Pratt. "No!"
Once more she looked at him. And Pratt looked back--and smiled.
"When I say no, I mean no," he went on. "And I never meant 'No' more firmly than I do now."
"I don't believe you," she answered, affecting a doubt which she certainly did not feel. "You're only holding out for more money."
"If I were holding out for more money, Mrs. Mallathorpe," replied Pratt, "if I meant to sell you that will for cash payment, I should have stated my terms to you last night. I should have said precisely how much I wanted--and I shouldn't have budged from the amount. Mrs.
Mallathorpe!--it's no good. I've got my own schemes, and my own ideas--and I'm going to carry 'em out. I want you to appoint me steward to your property, your affairs, for life."
"Life!" she exclaimed. "Life!"
"My life," answered Pratt. "And let me tell you--you'll find me a first-cla.s.s man--a good, faithful, honest servant. I'll do well by you and yours. You'll never regret it as long as you live. It'll be the best day's work you've ever done. I'll look after your son's interests--everybody's interests--as if they were my own. As indeed," he added, with a sly glance, "they will be."
Mrs. Mallathorpe realized the finality, the resolve, in all this--but she made one more attempt.
"Ten thousand!" she said. "Come, now!--think what ten thousand pounds in cash would mean to you!"
"No--nor twenty thousand," replied Pratt. "I've made up my mind. I'll have my own terms. It's no use--not one bit of use--haggling or discussing matters further. I'm in possession of the will--and therefore of the situation, Mrs. Mallathorpe, you've just got to do what I tell you!"
He got up from his chair, and going over to a side-table took from it a blotting-pad, some writing paper and a pencil. For the moment his back was turned--and again he did not see the look of almost murderous hatred which came into his visitor's eyes; had he seen and understood it, he might even then have reconsidered matters and taken Mrs. Mallathorpe's last offer. But the look had gone when he turned again, and he noticed nothing as he handed over the writing materials.
"What are these for?" she asked.
"You'll see in a moment," replied Pratt, reseating himself, and drawing his chair a little nearer her own. "Now listen--because it's no good arguing any more. You're going to give me that stewards.h.i.+p and agency.
You'll simply tell your son that it's absolutely necessary to have a steward. He'll agree. If he doesn't, no matter--you'll convince him.
Now, then, we must do it in a fas.h.i.+on that won't excite any suspicion.
Thus--in a few days--say next week--you'll insert in the Barford papers--all three of them--the advertis.e.m.e.nt I'm going to dictate to you. We'll put it in the usual, formal phraseology. Write this down, if you please, Mrs. Mallathorpe."
He dictated an advertis.e.m.e.nt, setting forth the requirements of which he had spoken, and Mrs. Mallathorpe obeyed him and wrote. She hated Pratt more than ever at that moment--there was a quiet, steadfast implacability about him that made her feel helpless. But she restrained all sign of it, and when she had done his bidding she looked at him as calmly as he looked at her.
"I am to insert this in the Barford papers next week," she said.
"And--what then?"
"Then you'll get a lot of applications for the job," chuckled Pratt.
"There'll be mine amongst them. You can throw most of 'em in the fire.
Keep a few for form's sake. Profess to discuss them with Mr. Harper--but let the discussion be all on your side. I'll send two or three good testimonials--you'll incline to me from the first. You'll send for me.
Your interview with me will be highly satisfactory. And you'll give me the appointment."
"And--your terms?" asked Mrs. Mallathorpe. Now that her own scheme had failed, she seemed quite placable to all Pratt's proposals--a sure sign of danger to him if he had only known it. "Better let me know them now--and have done with it."
"Quite so," agreed Pratt. "But first of all--can you keep this secret to yourself and me? The money part, any way?"
"I can--and shall," she answered.
"Good!" said Pratt. "Very well. I want a thousand a year. Also I want two rooms--and a business room--at the Grange. I shall not interfere with you or your family, or your domestic arrangements, but I shall expect to have all my meals served to me from your kitchen, and to have one of your servants at my disposal. I know the Grange--I've been over it more than once. There's much more room there than you can make use of. Give me the rooms I want in one of the wings. I shan't disturb any of you. You'll never see me except on business--and if you want to."
Again the calm acquiescence which would have surprised some men. Why Pratt failed to be surprised by it was because he was just then feeling exceedingly triumphant--he believed that Mrs. Mallathorpe was, metaphorically, at his feet. He had more than a little vanity in him, and it pleased him greatly, that dictating of terms: he saw himself a conqueror, with his foot on the neck of his victim.
"Is that all, then?" asked the visitor.
"All!" answered Pratt.
Mrs. Mallathorpe calmly folded up the draft advertis.e.m.e.nt and placed it in her purse. Then she rose and adjusted her veil.
"Then--there is nothing to be done until I get your answer to this--your application?" she asked. "Very well."
Pratt showed her out, and walked to the cab with her. He went back to his rooms highly satisfied--and utterly ignorant of what Mrs.
Mallathorpe was thinking as she drove away.
CHAPTER IX
UNTIL NEXT SPRING
Within a week of his sudden death in Eldrick's private office, old Antony Bartle was safely laid in the tomb under the yew-tree of which Mrs. Clough had spoken with such appreciation, and his grandson had entered into virtual possession of all that he had left. Collingwood found little difficulty in settling his grandfather's affairs.
Everything had been left to him: he was sole executor as well as sole residuary legatee. He found his various tasks made uncommonly easy.
Another bookseller in the town hurried to buy the entire stock and business, goodwill, book debts, everything--Collingwood was free of all responsibility of the shop in Quagg Alley within a few days of the old man's funeral. And when he had made a handsome present to the housekeeper, a suitable one to the shop-boy, and paid his grandfather's last debts, he was free to depart--a richer man by some five-and-twenty thousand pounds than when he hurried down to Barford in response to Eldrick's telegram.
He sat in Eldrick's office one afternoon, winding up his affairs with him. There were certain things that Eldrick & Pascoe would have to do; as for himself it was necessary for him to get back to London.
"There's something I want to propose to you," said Eldrick, when they had finished the immediate business. "You're going to practise, of course?"
"Of course!" replied Collingwood, with a laugh. "If I get the chance!"
"You'll get the chance," said Eldrick. "What were you going in for?"
"Commercial law--company law--as a special thing," answered Collingwood.
"Why?"
"I'll tell you what it is," continued Eldrick eagerly. "There's a career for you if you'll take my advice. Leave London--come down here and take chambers in the town, and go the North-Eastern Circuit. I'll promise you--for our firm alone--plenty of work. You'll get more--there's lots of work waiting here for a good, smart young barrister. Ah!--you smile, but I know what I'm talking about. You don't know Barford men. They believe in the old adage that one should look at home before going abroad. They're terribly litigious, too, and if you were here, on the spot, they'd give you work. What do you say, Collingwood?"
"That sounds very tempting. But I was thinking of sticking to London."