The Finger of Fate Part 25

How Henry had spent his time during the twelve months that had elapsed he had not the slightest idea. He had not heard a word of him, or from him. He had written once to his solicitor to make an inquiry; but it was simply whether the lawyer had seen him. The answer had been "Yes."

Henry Harding had called at the solicitor's office, some twelve months before. There was nothing said about the payment of the thousand pounds; for the question had not been asked in the General's letter; and the formal old lawyer, habituated to laconic exactness, had limited the terms of his response to such inquiries as had been made.

Henry, in his parting letter, had spoken of going abroad. This would to some extent account for his not being heard of in London; and there was no reason why he should not find his way to Rome, or any other Continental capital. The General had the idea that it would serve him for a tour of travel, and, perhaps, keep him out of worse company at home. He would have been satisfied enough to hear of his son being in Rome, but for the contents of that strange letter that brought the information. In it there was proof that, if not actually in the hands of brigands, he had fallen into company almost, if not altogether, as bad.

Such were the reflections of the General as he meandered through the streets of the metropolis; reminded of his son's existence only by knowing that he had been there; but not with any expectation of meeting him. Henry, he no longer doubted, was in the city of Rome, and not among the Neapolitan mountains, as the letter alleged. The supposed falsehood also much embittered his father's remembrance of him.

After having made the rounds of the clubs, the General, as usual, called on his solicitors--"Lawson and Son," Lincoln's Inn Fields.

"Have you heard anything of my son since I last wrote you?" he asked.

The question was put after his other business had been transacted.

"No," said Lawson the elder, to whom the inquiry was directed, Lawson the younger having gone out of the way.

"I have had a singular letter from him--there it is--you are at liberty to read it; you may put it among my papers. It's a doc.u.ment that has a good deal grieved me. I don't wish it lying in my own desk."

Mr Lawson adjusted his spectacles; and perused the epistle that had been dictated by the brigand chief.

"This _is_ strange, General! How did it reach you?" he asked on finis.h.i.+ng. "There does not appear to be a postmark."

"That is perhaps the strangest part of it; it came _by hand_, and was delivered to me in my own house."

"By whom?"

"An odd-looking creature of a Jew, or Italian, or something of the kind.

He proclaimed himself to be one of your own craft, Mr Lawson. A _procuratore_, he said; which I believe in the Italian lingo means an attorney, or solicitor."

"What answer did you send your son?"

"I sent no answer at all; I didn't believe a word of what was in the letter. I saw, and so did my son Nigel, that it was a scheme to extract money. Nigel, I believe, answered it."

"Ah! your son Nigel answered this letter. What did he write, General?

You will excuse me for asking the question."

"Of course, I'll excuse you. But I can't tell you for all that. I don't know what was in my eldest son's letter; something, I think, to the effect, that I saw through his deception, and also a word to reproach him for the attempt at playing such a trick upon his own father. Nigel thought this might have some effect on him--perhaps shame him, if there is any shame left; though I fear, poor fellow, he has fallen into bad hands, and it will take a more severe lesson to reclaim him."

"You don't believe, then, that he has fallen into the hands of brigands?"

"Brigands! Bah! Surely, Mr Lawson, you're not serious in thinking such a thing possible--with your experience?"

"It's just my experience, General, that suggests not only its _possibility_, but its _probability_. It is now some years since, during one of my vacations, I made what is usually called the Italian tour. I learnt, while in Italy, some strange facts about the bandits of Naples and Rome. I could not have believed what I heard, but for a circ.u.mstantial testimony almost equal to the evidence of my own eyes.

It was about a gentleman having fallen into their clutches, and who had to pay ransom to get clear. Indeed, it was by the merest accident I escaped myself being taken prisoner at the same time. I owed the immunity to the lucky break-down of a post-chaise, in which I was travelling over the horrid roads of the Romagna. The trouble caused my return to Rome; whereas, had I gone five miles farther, the house of Lawson and Son, Lincoln's Inn Fields, might have had to pay ransom for my person--just as this that is now demanded for that of your son."

"Demanded for my son! Pooh! pooh! Demanded _by_ my son, you mean!"

"I do not believe it, General. I am sorry to say I have reason to differ with you."

"But I do believe it. I have not told you how he left home--in a 'huff'

about a girl he wanted to get married to. I was determined he shouldn't, and made use of a trick to prevent it. I shall some day tell you of this trick. It deceived a very tricky party--a pair of them for that matter. It was then I wrote to you to give him the _thousand pounds_. He's spent it, I suppose, upon idle vagabonds like himself, who have put him up to this thing to get money. It's a cunning scheme, but it won't succeed."

"Wrote to me to give him a thousand pounds!" exclaimed the old solicitor, half starting from his chair, and pulling the spectacles from his nose. "What do you mean, General Harding?"

"What _should_ I mean, Mr Lawson? I mean the thousand pounds I directed you to draw from the bank, and pay over to my son Henry, whenever he should call for it."

"When?"

"When! About twelve months ago. Let me see. Yes. Just twelve months ago. It was only a week or so after I saw you on my last visit to London. You told me in your letter, that he had been to your office about that time."

"I did, and so he had--twice, I think, he called--but not to receive a thousand pounds, or money of any amount. He did not ask for it. If I remember aright, he only called to inquire if there was any message sent him by you. I did not see him myself--my head clerk did. He can tell what pa.s.sed with your son. Shall I summon him?"

"Do so," said the General, almost beside himself with astonishment.

"Damme! it's very strange--very strange, damme!"

A hand-bell was touched, and in an instant the head clerk came into the room.

"Jennings," said the solicitor, "do you remember General Harding's son-- his younger son, Henry--you know him, I believe--having called here about twelve months ago?"

"Oh, yes!" responded the clerk; "I remember it very well. It is just twelve months ago. I can find the entry if you wish. He called twice-- the second time a day or two after the first. Both visits were entered in the 'call book.'"

"Bring in the call book," commanded Mr Lawson.

The clerk hurried off into the front office, leaving General Harding once more alone with his solicitor.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

THE CALL BOOK.

The General could no longer keep his seat. At the unexpected information communicated by Mr Lawson, he had started up, and commenced pacing the floor in short irregular strides, at intervals exclaiming, "Strange, damme!"

"If I had known this," he said more continuously--"If I had known this, all might yet have been well. Never got the thousand pounds, you say?"

"Never a penny of it, from me."

"I'm so glad to hear it--so glad!"

"True, you should be. It's no doubt so much money saved; that is, if you think it might have been spent foolishly."

"Nothing of that kind, sir; nothing of the sort!"

"Pardon me, General, I did not mean--"

The lawyer's apology was interrupted by the re-entrance of his clerk carrying a large volume, on whose covering of vellum were the words "Call Book."

Mr Lawson took hold of the book, glad to escape from further explanation.

"There it is," said he, after turning over a number of pages. "Two entries of different dates, both relating to your son. The first on the 4th day of April; the other on the 6th. Shall I read them, General, or will you look at them yourself?"

"Read them to me."