CHAPTER XII
A SPLENDID BARGAIN
It was the most awkwardly thrilling moment of George's life, when hefound himself confronted by the millionaire before the eyes of the ElderInhabitants. Because of the couple of ridiculous bundles he could notgrasp the hand of Mr. Jenkins; he dared not explain he was carrying theporcelain about with him; so he muttered something about grand weatherand unexpected pleasure, then raced homewards with the American amblingat his side.
"Crampy flung me a line telling me about your masterpieces. I beat thesun this morning in an aeroplane invented by a friend; came to turf onSalisbury plain; friend and driver broke rudder and ankle; caught ahorse, rode him barebacked to the nearest garage; bought a car, drove itfifty miles; car broke down, sold it second-hand, hired a train, drovehere from the station--all so to speak. If I'm not first, I guess I'm aderned good second."
"You needn't have hurried quite so much," gasped George, wishing hecould exaggerate like that.
"I guess, sir, when it comes to business, a man has got to put in hisbest licks, or some other fellow will pull his foot ahead and spudgel upthe goods. Cramp has unloosed his jaw-tackle to the crowd. I'm notparticular scared of the Britishers, who look before they leap, andthink before they look, and make their wills before they think; butthere's quite a few Americans in your London, England, nosing around forsomething specially ancient to take home. There's Wenceslas Q. Allowayof Milwaukee. Lager-beer he is, or was, for now he's mostly grape juicefor conscience' sake; with an elegant white beard and the innocent waysof an archangel--he's got this collecting craze so bad he'd mortgage hisimmortality, or a thousand years of it, for a bit of old china, thoughhe'd try to stick in a clause to best the devil, for he's a prettyderned orthodox First Baptist on a Sunday. I'm a Second Adventist, andmy crowd has just built a church in Philadelphia which for size andshape makes your Westminster Abbey look a bit retrospective."
"Come inside," said George faintly. "I'm afraid I can't offer you muchhospitality, as I'm only staying here with my aunt who is not able toreceive visitors."
"Don't mention hospitality, sir. Just give me a sight of your vases, andif they're genuine, you'll be giving me a gorge. Wonderful pretty place.I'd like to ship the whole of this township across to America, put up abarbwire fence around, and charge a dollar for admission. Beautifulplace to be buried in! Might I inquire if you are carrying anythingspecially out of date?"
"I've been shopping," replied George.
"Mr. Drake!" called the voice of the postmistress. "A telegram vor ye,sir."
George tore open the envelope and read, "Just heard from Crampy. Fifteenhundred if O.K. Alloway."
"Knew he'd switch on to the main track up to time, but he can't begin tobest me. Guess he's exceeding your speed limit right now, and aboutmidnight his automobile will be killing ducks in this neighbourhood,"said Jenkins complacently.
"I suppose you know something about china?" George suggested, as heushered the visitor into the dining room.
"My knowledge of porcelain extends from my head to my finger ends. Whenyou show me Chinese vases I'm at home, sir, I'm surrounded with familiarobjects, I'm behind the scenes. Crampy knows something, but I can run asaw upon him. When his wells dry up, that's the time, sir, mine begin toflow," said Jenkins, ostentatiously producing a long cheque-book andslapping it upon the table.
"If you will excuse me a moment, I'll go for the vases," said George.
He carried the bundles up to his room, and consulted the list whichCrampy had sent him. Having satisfied himself that the names of Jenkinsand Alloway appeared upon it, he went downstairs with the undrapedvases, thankful his visitor had called at the time of day when Miss Yardand Nellie were shut up together, and Kezia was occupied in the kitchen.
The millionaire stood in the attitude of a clergyman about to receive achild for baptism; and, when George extended one of the vases, heaccepted it reverently, then walked to the window, examined it, tappedand stroked it, hugged and adored it, and very nearly kissed it, beforeturning to exclaim, "These are the goods, Mr. Drake!"
"Yes, they are very fine specimens," replied George casually.
"I don't say they are unique at present, though that's what they will bewhen I get 'em across to Philadelphia. I guess there's been an emptymantelpiece in the Emperor of China's palace for quite a few years."
George explained the vases had been discovered by his uncle during oneof the anti-foreign riots in China many years ago.
"Your uncle was a great lad, sir. He saw his chance to loot the pieces,so he repelled boarders and took 'em. I should call your uncle a publicbenefactor. He removed these vases from the custody of the uncivilisedChinee, and conferred them upon the cultured world of art. When thepotter turned them on his wheel," continued Jenkins, beginning torhapsodise, "he little thought they were destined, by a far-seeingProvidence, to find a home in the United States, the illustrious city ofPhiladelphia, the unassuming if somewhat palatial mansion--"
"The postmistress again!" exclaimed George, hurrying to the front door.
"I hadn't hardly got back home, sir, when there come another. I do hope,sir, it ain't bad news again," said the good woman, as she handed over asecond telegram.
"It's of no consequence," said George.
"I'm very glad it ain't no worse, sir. I hope, sir, you'm going onwell," said Mrs. Cann, trusting that an interpretation of thesetelegrams might be vouchsafed to her.
George cautiously replied that his lumbago was improving daily; then hereturned to the dining room and said, "Here's a telegram from anAmerican named Anderson. He asks me not to deal with any one until hecalls, and he offers seventeen hundred."
"I don't know the fellow," said Jenkins suspiciously. "I would adviseyou to have nothing to do with him. He may be a crook, a man of straw."
"He's all right," said George. "Crampy sent me a list of collectors Icould trust, and his name is on it. I suppose Crampy himself is safe,as a firm of lawyers, who are supposed to be respectable, sent him downhere."
"Crampy is as genuine as the rising sun. He's valuer to your Court ofProbate, he's got a fixed place of business, his name's in theDirectory. He's just got to tote fair, but he won't get rich till hegrows more brain. I've known Crampy to pay down big money for a fake."
"He made me an offer for these vases," said George.
"I'll double it," cried the millionaire, nestling down to hischeque-book.
"He offered me a thousand pounds."
"Then I'll give you two thousand."
"I might get even more at a sale," George muttered greedily.
"I guess you don't know a great lot about sales," said Jenkinspityingly. "If you put these vases up to auction, collectors and dealerswould get together and fix the price beforehand. I'm playing my lonehand in this game, for I'm dead set on getting the ornaments, and Idon't mind paying a fancy price for 'em. Crampy won't go beyond athousand, and even Alloway reckons he's sure of them for fifteenhundred. The other chap offers seventeen hundred it's true, but I havemy doubts about him. I didn't mean to bid two thousand, but I'vepromised to double Crampy's offer, and I'm a man of my word or I'mnothing. Now, sir--you to play!"
"I'll take it," said George.
"Easy way of making money, ain't it?" said the American jauntily. "Ifyou wouldn't mind wrapping some cotton-wool and paper round the things,I'll take 'em right along with me."
"Are you going to offer me a cheque?" George stammered.
"I was going to, but as you don't know a great lot about me, and perhapsyou don't feel like relying on Crampy's introduction, and as I must takethe pieces right away with me, I'll just hand over the stuff in notesupon your Bank of England which, so far as I know, hasn't put itsshutters up," said the millionaire, producing a mighty pocketbook. "Hereyou are, sir--four five-hundreds, and may they breed you a bonanza.Kindly hand me a form of receipt; and if at any time within the nextforty-eight hours the vases should be discovered forgeries, I am atliberty to return them, while you will hand back the money.
At theexpiration of the forty-eight hours the deal is closed absolutely and,if the things are fakes, I come out spindigo. Don't be ashamed of yoursuspicions, and don't consider my feelings. Hold up the notes to thelight and take a look at the watermark."
"That's just what I was doing," said George feebly.
A few minutes later the millionaire departed, George walking with him tothe inn where his conveyance waited. Here also wise men were discussingthe state of decadence towards which the parish was being hurried bymoral failures like the Brocks and such a despicable plotter as theformerly respected Mr. Drake, who was undoubtedly scheming to constructthat Dartmoor railway by means of American dollars. Mr. Jenkins was seento drive away by the Gentle Shepherd, who reported the gratifyingintelligence to headquarters, and a hearty sigh of relief went up whilea quantity of inferior beer went down. Yet nobody sighed so deeply or sojoyously as George as he hurried home a man of means at last.
Rapture lost half its charm because there was nobody with whom it couldbe shared; for Nellie, he found, had retired with a headache, whileBessie, upon sentry duty near the bedroom door, repelled the advance ofMiss Yard who was in tears because they would not let her in to see thepoor girl's body.
"I knew she would go like that. I told her she had a heart, because shewas such a good girl, and they always go suddenly. I do hope you won'tbe the next, George. Of course you know poor Percy is gone," shewailed.
"You were very good in your young days," said George gallantly, "but youare still alive. There's nothing much the matter with Percy, except thathe's going to get married."
"Take that woman away," snapped Miss Yard, "and make her stop growing.She gets worse every day."
"I finished long ago, thankye, miss," said Bessie.
"What a wicked story! She's done a lot since yesterday," complained MissYard. "Do let me have one peep at my dear little Nellie before they takeher away."
The young lady herself cried out and hoped they would all be taken away.Peace was restored, after Miss Yard had tumbled down happily, convincedthat the age of miracles was not past.
George woke the next morning with a sense of prosperity which required asafety valve when the inevitable letter from Mr. Hunter, who had nowshrunk icily into a solitary initial beneath the signature Cross andMartin, announced, "the probate of your late aunt's will has beengranted, and you are now at liberty to draw cheques against the balanceof two hundred pounds lying in the bank."
George felt sufficiently healthy to dig potatoes, make love, or performany other menial act. He ate a huge breakfast, then climbed into anapple tree and whistled for half an hour: Miss Yard, sitting at thewindow, declared she had never heard the blackbirds sing so beautifully.While thus relieving his high spirits a light carriage could be heardapproaching; its wheels rattled down the hill; the driver shouted to thehorse; and the conveyance drew up beside the garden gate.
"Here's another millionaire!" George chuckled, as he dropped from thebranches. But there was nobody except the driver, whom George recognisedas belonging to the principal hotel of the neighbouring town.
"I was to give you this letter, sir, and to bring you this box, and towait for an answer," said the man.
"Did a gentleman called Jenkins send you?" George faltered, receivingthe box with the dignity of an author taking back his rejectedmasterpiece.
"That's right, sir. I was to get back as quick as I can, for thegentleman wants to catch a train. Here's the letter, sir; and I was tobe sure and take back an answer."
George hurried indoors, his knees wobbling; tore open the envelope andread:
"It's worse than a falling birth rate, but the vases are fakes. I haveexamined them carefully with strong glasses and discovered marks whichshow beyond a doubt they are not more than a hundred years old. Thesepieces would deceive any amateur and quite a few experts: they fairlyhocussed me till I turned on the glasses. This will make your soul sick,I guess, but you've still got Crampy. I won't say anything to queer yourbusiness; but take my advice and don't hawk the things about, or someother fellow may get notions. Your best chance is Crampy, right now,while he's innocent. The longer you keep the vases the more they'llsmell. Kindly return shinplasters by bearer, and pile up my sympathy toyour credit."
George sprang to the box and wrenched off its lid; but a glancedispelled his suspicions. The vases had not been exchanged for localbeauties; they had been returned undamaged but condemned. Crampy washonest, and Jenkins was genuine; and he himself had lost a fortune.
"I don't want to gammon a decent fellow like Crampy, but I can't affordto lose a thousand pounds," George muttered, after the driver haddeparted with the banknotes. "I'll walk over to Brimmleton and send hima telegram. If it goes from here Mrs. Cann will talk all over thevillage. And on the way back I'll look in at Black Anchor, and try tofind out what young Sidney is up to."
Before starting he told Nellie of his intentions, which were stillhonourable; but the young lady was indifferent to the point of malice.
"They are nothing to me, and the sooner they clear out of the place thebetter," she said firmly.
"I'm going to give the lad a little friendly advice. The people arecomplaining that he's making Highfield more like London every day; andnaturally they are getting angry about it," said George.
"Oh, don't talk to me about it," cried Nellie.
"Shall I talk to you when I come back?"
"That will depend upon what you have to say."
"It can't possibly be good news," said George cheerfully. "I knew Sidneywas a bad egg the first time I saw him. He never took his eyes off myboots, and that's a sure sign of a nasty character."
So George walked to Brimmleton, where he was a foreigner, and despatchedthe telegram to Crampy, accepting his offer for the vases and pressingfor a reply immediately, as he was very much afraid Jenkins might leak alittle upon his return to London. Then he turned aside to the lonelyfarm, where half-savage children no longer rolled in the mud, notingwith approval the effect of hard labour in the shape of reclaimed landand well drained fields. The Brocks, if vicious, were at least not idle;and George was always well pleased at discovering signs of humanindustry which convinced him that the race was by no means decadent.
Nearing the house he walked warily; and here a shocking spectacle waspresented. He saw a young girl--the same infamous young person--mostdaintily attired, seated upon a boulder near the door, wearing over herpretty frock a deplorable type of beribboned and belaced apron, perusinga volume with a lurid binding which assuredly was teaching her terriblethings. And he saw the old man--the grandfather--approach with a mattockon his shoulder; and he pulled her hair; while she shouted at him--somenameless jest, doubtless, but happily George could not hear the words.
Presently Sidney appeared--for it was nearly dinner time--and the worsthappened. The abandoned young creature jumped up and ran towards him,with an expression, described mentally by George as one of ready-madeaffection, upon her pretty face; and, as they walked into the house, thewicked young man passed his arm around the waist of the shamelessdamsel.
The watcher groaned in spirit, although he could not altogether escapefrom the idea that the ungodly were not necessarily to be pitied in thisworld. Then he walked to the house and knocked at the door. Thescuffling sound of young women in flight caused him to shake his headagain.
"So 'tis you, Mr. Drake! You'm quite a stranger," exclaimed Sidneyreadily enough, though in George's opinion his face wore a hunted look.
"I'd like to have a few words with you," he replied.
"Right," said Sidney, looking back into the house to call, "Tell Dollynot to hurry wi' the dinner, grandfather."
"Dolly!" groaned George, somewhat enviously. He had clung to the hopethat the girl's name might turn out to be Jane.
"You know, Sidney, I don't bear you any ill-feeling," he began, whenthey stood a few paces from the house, although his eyes were strickenwith horror at discovering the young woman had been reading a bookprinted in French. "But there's some very loud t
alk up in Highfieldabout you and your goings on with the ladies."
"We have nought to do wi' Highfield volk, and we don't care that muchvor their talk," replied Sidney, snapping his fingers.
"They are threatening to mob you," George whispered.
"Not they," laughed Sidney. "They ain't got it in 'em, and if a crowddid come down along me and grandfather would settle the lot."
"It's pretty bad to have young women here--from France too--one afterthe other. You can't blame the people for being a bit upset."
"If that's all you've got to say, Mr. Drake, I'll thank ye kindly, andtell ye I don't want to hear no more of it. Dolly is staying vor a weekor two, and when she goes I'll get another," said the young outcastfiercely.
"I thought I'd just look in and warn you as I was passing," said George."You know, Sidney, I don't blame you, and I think you're quite right notto give way to them. If I can help you in any way I shall be only tooglad. These ignorant people don't understand men of the world like youand me."
"I reckon," said Sidney, with the deplorable grin of a completelydissipated soul.
"I mustn't keep you from your dinner, Sidney--and from the ladies. Givemy best wishes to your grandfather, and my respects to Miss Dolly. I dohope she is enjoying her visit," said the double-faced George. Then heambled off, trying to smile and frown with the same face, entirelysatisfied that Sidney would never again be permitted to approach withinspeaking distance of Miss Blisland.
He was unable to report the result of this visit, beyond mentioning hehad discovered things too terrible for words; and, although Nellie didappear for one moment inclined to listen, George could do nothing exceptplace a hand across his eyes and declare he could not face her after thescenes of sheer depravity he had been compelled to witness at BlackAnchor. Nellie was well aware George would exaggerate if he could; butthis did really appear to be a case where exaggeration was impossible.
"You do get a lot of these nasty things, Mr. George," remarked Kezia, asshe approached with a telegram which suggested to her nothing exceptmurder and sudden death.
"In this case I shall attend the funeral," said George cheerfully, whenhe discovered the deluded Crampy would meet him at the station upon thefollowing day.
"Who's gone now?" asked Kezia.
"Next week I am going into business," explained George with suitableemotion. "This telegram is from a friend who wants to go intopartnership with me."
"I hope he ain't coming here then," said Kezia, who was beginning toresent the visits of strange gentlemen, because they walked upon hercarpets and sat upon her chairs. "What be you going to sell, Mr.George?" she asked with much interest.
"China," he replied.
"I do hope and pray as how you may succeed," gasped Kezia; and off shewent to inform Bessie that Mr. George was about to start a cloam shop.Bessie quite believed it, as Mr. George had always been so fond ofhandling cups and saucers.
Miss Yard also was fond of tea drinking, but she had no tenderness forchina, and would generally release her cup in a vacuum, instead ofplacing it fairly upon the table; and express a vast amount of amusementat the ridiculous laws of nature when the cup exploded upon the carpet.She was particularly robust that afternoon and insisted upon pouring outtea herself. When the fragments, which filled two small baskets, hadbeen removed, the steaming carpet mopped, and dryness restored, Georgeseated himself beside the old lady, produced a sheet of foolscap coveredwith writing, and said in his most silvery voice:
"Circumstances, my dear aunt, will compel me to leave you during thecourse of the next few days: but I cannot go until I have thesatisfaction of knowing you have made a will in our dear Nellie'sfavour."
"Good heavens--in my presence, too!" gasped the young lady.
"I need not remind you of the goodness, the modesty, the unselfishnessof our Nellie," he continued. "She would serve you for nothing, butnevertheless it is your duty to leave her all you can."
"I can't stay and listen to this," cried the distressed beneficiary.
"Don't interfere. She has always meant to do it, but never will unlesswe jog her memory," George whispered.
"I'll have nothing to do with it," exclaimed Nellie; and out she wentwith a fine colour.
"Is this something to do with that nasty robbery they call income tax?"asked Miss Yard.
"This is your last will and testament," replied George solemnly. "I knowyou mean to leave everything to Nellie, but you can't do that unless yousign a will. You must die soon, you know; and, if it was to happensuddenly, Nellie would get nothing."
"I did write out a paper, but somebody has hidden it away somewhere,"said the old lady.
"Pieces of paper are very little good," said George. "This is a properlydrawn up will. When you have signed it I can go away quite happy, and Ishall know dear Nellie will be provided for."
"Will she have the house, and the furniture, and all my money?" askedMiss Yard eagerly.
"Percy gets your money, but Nellie will have all that you may leave inthe bank, any investments you may make, and the proportion of income upto the time of your death," said George learnedly.
"Must I write my name somewhere?"
"Yes, and two witnesses are required; but Nellie can't be one," saidGeorge, going to the window and gazing along the street for some honestperson who could also write.
Presently the Wallower in Wealth appeared, prospecting the gutter forany signs of gold dust.
"I know he can write, for he signed a petition to uncle in favour ofmore frequent offertories in aid of the poor and needy," Georgemuttered. Then he caught up the will, lest Miss Yard should scribble hername all over it during his absence, ran out into the street, andinvited the scribe to step inside and witness Miss Yard's signature.
"I'll do it on one condition," said the Wallower in Wealth.
"What's that?" said George.
"You sell me the musical box. I'll give ye ten shillings vor it."
"That musical box is worth fifty pounds," said George. "But I can't sellit."
"Ain't it yours?"
"It has been out of order since my uncle died."
"You get it put right, and let me have it vor fifteen shillings, andI'll sign."
"Miss Yard wants you to witness her signature. You won't be doinganything for me."
"You'm asking me."
"Miss Yard isn't feeling very well today, and she's in a hurry to gether affairs settled."
"I b'ain't preventing her," said the Wallower in Wealth.
"She can't do it without witnesses."
"I might spare a pound vor the musical box."
"You couldn't get it repaired. That musical box is a lost art."
"If I take it wi' all its faults, and Miss Yard gives me five shillingsvor my time and labour, will ye sell me the box vor one pound two andsixpence?"
"I can't stay here talking. If you won't come I must get somebody else,"said George impatiently.
"Other folk would want to be paid the same as me," said the Wallower inWealth.
"Then I shall go and ask the vicar."
This was a fatal blow, and the bargainer climbed down at once.
"I'll stand witness vor half a crown and first refusal of the musicalbox," he promised.
Miss Yard was unusually silent after signing her will, and paying a feeto both her witnesses. She lay back in her chair with dreamy old eyeswhich looked as if they were recalling many scenes. While George carriedthe precious document upstairs to Nellie.
"Put it away and keep it safe until she dies," he said.
"I want to say the right thing," she murmured. "You ought not to havemade her sign, although she often says it is her intention to leave mesomething."
"You won't forget that I might have acted in a most scandalous fashion,"George hinted.
"Yes, I know!" she said hurriedly. "You could have put your name inplace of mine, and she would have signed just as willingly. But it's ahorrible business."
"All business is horrible. That is why we hire people to d
o it for us. Iwas thinking of myself as well," said George heartily. "We are gettingalong very nicely, Nellie--no just cause or impediment, you know! Thisshould mean one of those nice little sums of good money known ascapital," he whispered, rubbing his hands.
"I must go to Miss Sophy," said Nellie; and she moved towards the stairslike one in trouble.
The next day George carried his vases tenderly to the station where, atthe appointed time, Crampy arrived, and at once inquired:
"Has Jenkins been down?"
"He came," replied George, prepared for some such question, "but wecouldn't do business."
"All cackle, I suppose? That's his way. He'll come into my place tobargain for a piece of Sevres; swear he must have it, talk me dizzy;then say he must cross the Atlantic and think about it."
"He seemed very anxious to buy the vases, but he couldn't quite make uphis mind. I didn't exactly trust the fellow," said George. Then he wenton to describe the millionaire's adventures with aeroplane and motor carbetween London and Highfield.
"That was just his ornamental way of telling you he's a hustler. Hetravelled by railway, and third class all the way. Jenkins is an awfulliar; but he's honest. I want to catch the up train, due in about twentyminutes, so we had better get to business. If you are ready to hand overthe pieces, I am prepared to give you my cheque for a thousand markedaccepted by the bank."
"Jenkins said they were really worth more than that."
"Though he wouldn't give it," laughed Crampy. "I'll just take anotherlook at 'em to make sure."
"It doesn't matter," George protested.
However, Crampy insisted in a courteous fashion: so they walked to thefar end of the platform, where George unpacked one of the vases, and thedealer, having put on his glasses, examined it shrewdly until the ownerbegan to suffer from the silence.
"Do you know, Mr. Drake, I'm not sure--upon my soul I can't say forcertain whether the things are genuine or not."
"Don't tell me they are forgeries," said George weakly.
"They are marvellously well done. Still, I've got a horrible idea in myhead there is something wrong with them."
"Jenkins told you?" cried George involuntarily.
"So he said they were fakes!"
"He didn't go as far as that, but he thought there might be some doubtabout them," George admitted.
"It looks bad--Jenkins is an uncommon smart amateur. Still, Mr. Drake,I'm a man of my word, and I'm going to make you an extremely liberaloffer. I'll buy the vases for the price agreed upon. If they should turnout to be genuine, I can make a fair profit. If they must be condemnedas forgeries, I may discover somebody with plenty of money but notenough brains to put unpleasant questions. Or, if you prefer it, I willsell the vases for you on commission. But, in that case, you stand tolose. It's a gamble so far as I'm concerned."
"That's a luxury I can't afford," George muttered.
"Exactly! Here's my cheque! I'm not a philanthropist; I'm willing to doany man a good turn, but I'm far more anxious to do a bit of good formyself. I may lose, but it's just as likely I shall clear a profit.These vases can be passed off, though you couldn't do it--but, mind you,I don't say even now they are not genuine."
With a vast sense of relief George accepted the cheque, and gave uppossession of the Chinese vases.