My Lady's Money

by Wilkie Collins

  CHAPTER XII.

  THE conference between Lady Lydiard and Mr. Troy, on the way back toLondon, led to some practical results.

  Hearing from her legal adviser that the inquiry after the missing moneywas for a moment at a standstill, Lady Lydiard made one of those boldsuggestions with which she was accustomed to startle her friends incases of emergency. She had heard favorable reports of the extraordinaryingenuity of the French police; and she now proposed sending to Parisfor assistance, after first consulting her nephew, Mr. Felix Sweetsir."Felix knows Paris as well as he knows London," she remarked. "He is anidle man, and it is quite likely that he will relieve us of all troubleby taking the matter into his own hands. In any case, he is sure to knowwho are the right people to address in our present necessity. What doyou say?"

  Mr. Troy, in reply, expressed his doubts as to the wisdom of employingforeigners in a delicate investigation which required an accurateknowledge of English customs and English character. Waiving thisobjection, he approved of the idea of consulting her Ladyship's nephew."Mr. Sweetsir is a man of the world," he said. "In putting the casebefore him, we are sure to have it presented to us from a new pointof view." Acting on this favorable expression of opinion, Lady Lydiardwrote to her nephew. On the day after the visit to Miss Pink, theproposed council of three was held at Lady Lydiard's house.

  Felix, never punctual at keeping an appointment, was even later thanusual on this occasion. He made his apologies with his hand pressed uponhis forehead, and his voice expressive of the languor and discouragementof a suffering man.

  "The beastly English climate is telling on my nerves," said Mr.Sweetsir--"the horrid weight of the atmosphere, after the exhilaratingair of Paris; the intolerable dirt and dullness of London, you know. Iwas in bed, my dear aunt, when I received your letter. You may imaginethe completely demoralised state I was in, when I tell you of theeffect which the news of the robbery produced on me. I fell back on mypillow, as if I had been shot. Your Ladyship should really be alittle more careful in communicating these disagreeable surprises to asensitively-organised man. Never mind--my valet is a perfect treasure;he brought me some drops of ether on a lump of sugar. I said, 'Alfred'(his name is Alfred), 'put me into my clothes!' Alfred put me in. Iassure you it reminded me of my young days, when I was put into my firstpair of trousers. Has Alfred forgotten anything? Have I got my braceson? Have I come out in my shirt-sleeves? Well, dear aunt;--well, Mr.Troy!--what can I say? What can I do?"

  Lady Lydiard, entirely without sympathy for nervous suffering, nodded tothe lawyer. "You tell him," she said.

  "I believe I speak for her Ladyship," Mr. Troy began, "when I say thatwe should like to hear, in the first place, how the whole case strikesyou, Mr. Sweetsir?"

  "Tell it me all over again," said Felix.

  Patient Mr. Troy told it all over again--and waited for the result.

  "Well?" said Felix.

  "Well?" said Mr. Troy. "Where does the suspicion of robbery rest in youropinion? You look at the theft of the bank-note with a fresh eye."

  "You mentioned a clergyman just now," said Felix. "The man, you know, towhom the money was sent. What was his name?"

  "The Reverend Samuel Bradstock."

  "You want me to name the person whom I suspect?"

  "Yes, if you please," said Mr. Troy.

  "I suspect the Reverend Samuel Bradstock," said Felix.

  "If you have come here to make stupid jokes," interposed Lady Lydiard,"you had better go back to your bed again. We want a serious opinion."

  "You _have_ a serious opinion," Felix coolly rejoined. "I never was morein earnest in my life. Your Ladyship is not aware of the first principleto be adopted in cases of suspicion. One proceeds on what I will callthe exhaustive system of reasoning. Thus: Does suspicion point to thehonest servants downstairs? No. To your Ladyship's adopted daughter?Appearances are against the poor girl; but you know her better than totrust to appearances. Are you suspicious of Moody? No. Of Hardyman--whowas in the house at the time? Ridiculous! But I was in the house at thetime, too. Do you suspect Me? Just so! That idea is ridiculous, too.Now let us sum up. Servants, adopted daughter, Moody, Hardyman,Sweetsir--all beyond suspicion. Who is left? The Reverend SamuelBradstock."

  This ingenious exposition of "the exhaustive system of reasoning,"failed to produce any effect on Lady Lydiard. "You are wasting ourtime," she said sharply. "You know as well as I do that you are talkingnonsense."

  "I don't," said Felix. "Taking the gentlemanly professions all round,I know of no men who are so eager to get money, and who have so fewscruples about how they get it, as the parsons. Where is there a man inany other profession who perpetually worries you for money?--who holdsthe bag under your nose for money?--who sends his clerk round fromdoor to door to beg a few shillings of you, and calls it an 'Easteroffering'? The parson does all this. Bradstock is a parson. I put itlogically. Bowl me over, if you can."

  Mr. Troy attempted to "bowl him over," nevertheless. Lady Lydiard wiselyinterposed.

  "When a man persists in talking nonsense," she said, "silence is thebest answer; anything else only encourages him." She turned to Felix."I have a question to ask you," she went on. "You will either give mea serious reply, or wish me good-morning." With this brief preface,she made her inquiry as to the wisdom and possibility of engaging theservices of the French police.

  Felix took exactly the view of the matter which had been alreadyexpressed by Mr. Troy. "Superior in intelligence," he said, "but notsuperior in courage, to the English police. Capable of performingwonders on their own ground and among their own people. But, my dearaunt, the two most dissimilar nations on the face of the earth are theEnglish and the French. The French police may speak our language--butthey are incapable of understanding our national character and ournational manners. Set them to work on a private inquiry in the city ofPekin--and they would get on in time with the Chinese people. Set themto work in the city of London--and the English people would remain, fromfirst to last, the same impenetrable mystery to them. In my belief theLondon Sunday would be enough of itself to drive them back to Parisin despair. No balls, no concerts, no theaters, not even a museum or apicture-gallery open; every shop shut up but the gin-shop; and nothingmoving but the church bells and the men who sell the penny ices.Hundreds of Frenchmen come to see me on their first arrival in England.Every man of them rushes back to Paris on the second Saturday of hisvisit, rather than confront the horrors of a second Sunday in London!However, you can try it if you like. Send me a written abstract of thecase, and I will forward it to one of the official people in the RueJerusalem, who will do anything he can to oblige me. Of course," saidFelix, turning to Mr. Troy, "some of you have got the number of the lostbank-note? If the thief has tried to pass it in Paris, my man may be ofsome use to you."

  "Three of us have got the number of the note," answered Mr. Troy; "MissIsabel Miller, Mr. Moody, and myself."

  "Very good," said Felix. "Send me the number, with the abstract of thecase. Is there anything else I can do towards recovering the money?"he asked, turning to his aunt. "There is one lucky circumstance inconnection with this loss--isn't there? It has fallen on a person whois rich enough to take it easy. Good heavens! suppose it had been _my_loss!"

  "It has fallen doubly on me," said Lady Lydiard; "and I am certainlynot rich enough to take it _that_ easy. The money was destined to acharitable purpose; and I have felt it my duty to pay it again."

  Felix rose and approached his aunt's chair with faltering steps, asbecame a suffering man. He took Lady Lydiard's hand and kissed it withenthusiastic admiration.

  "You excellent creature!" he said. "You may not think it, but youreconcile me to human nature. How generous! how noble! I think I'll goto bed again, Mr. Troy, if you really don't want any more of me. My headfeels giddy and my legs tremble under me. It doesn't matter; I shallfeel easier when Alfred has taken me out of my clothes again. God blessyou, my dear aunt! I never felt so proud of being related to you as Ido to-day. Good-morning Mr.
Troy! Don't forget the abstract of the case;and don't trouble yourself to see me to the door. I dare say I shan'ttumble downstairs; and, if I do, there's the porter in the hall to pickme up again. Enviable porter! as fat as butter and as idle as a pig! _Aurevoir! au revoir!_" He kissed his hand, and drifted feebly out ofthe room. Sweetsir one might say, in a state of eclipse; but still theserviceable Sweetsir, who was never consulted in vain by the fortunatepeople privileged to call him friend!

  "Is he really ill, do you think?" Mr. Troy asked.

  "My nephew has turned fifty," Lady Lydiard answered, "and he persists inliving as if he was a young man. Every now and then Nature says to him,'Felix, you are old!' And Felix goes to bed, and says it's his nerves."

  "I suppose he is to be trusted to keep his word about writing to Paris?"pursued the lawyer.

  "Oh, yes! He may delay doing it but he will do it. In spite of hislackadaisical manner, he has moments of energy that would surprise you.Talking of surprises, I have something to tell you about Moody. Withinthe last day or two there has been a marked change in him--a change forthe worse."

  "You astonish me, Lady Lydiard! In what way has Moody deteriorated?"

  "You shall hear. Yesterday was Friday. You took him out with you, onbusiness, early in the morning."

  Mr. Troy bowed, and said nothing. He had not thought it desirable tomention the interview at which Old Sharon had cheated him of his guinea.

  "In the course of the afternoon," pursued Lady Lydiard, "I happened towant him, and I was informed that Moody had gone out again. Where had hegone? Nobody knew. Had he left word when he would be back? He had leftno message of any sort. Of course, he is not in the position of anordinary servant. I don't expect him to ask permission to go out. But Ido expect him to leave word downstairs of the time at which he is likelyto return. When he did come back, after an absence of some hours, Inaturally asked for an explanation. Would you believe it? he simplyinformed me that he had been away on business of his own; expressedno regret, and offered no explanation--in short, spoke as if he was anindependent gentleman. You may not think it, but I kept my temper. Imerely remarked that I hoped it would not happen again. He made me abow, and he said, 'My business is not completed yet, my Lady. I cannotguarantee that it may not call me away again at a moment's notice.'What do you think of that? Nine people out of ten would have givenhim warning to leave their service. I begin to think I am a wonderfulwoman--I only pointed to the door. One does hear sometimes of men'sbrains softening in the most unexpected manner. I have my suspicions ofMoody's brains, I can tell you."

  Mr. Troy's suspicions took a different direction: they pointed along theline of streets which led to Old Sharon's lodgings. Discreetly silent asto the turn which his thoughts had taken, he merely expressed himself asfeeling too much surprised to offer any opinion at all.

  "Wait a little," said Lady Lydiard, "I haven't done surprising you yet.You have seen a boy here in a page's livery, I think? Well, he is a goodboy; and he has gone home for a week's holiday with his friends. Theproper person to supply his place with the boots and shoes and othersmall employments, is of course the youngest footman, a lad only afew years older than himself. What do you think Moody does? Engages astranger, with the house full of idle men-servants already, to fill thepage's place. At intervals this morning I heard them wonderfully merryin the servants hall--_so_ merry that the noise and laughter found itsway upstairs to the breakfast-room. I like my servants to be in goodspirits; but it certainly did strike me that they were getting beyondreasonable limits. I questioned my maid, and was informed that the noisewas all due to the jokes of the strangest old man that ever was seen.In other words, to the person whom my steward had taken it on himselfto engage in the page's absence. I spoke to Moody on the subject. Heanswered in an odd, confused way, that he had exercised his discretionto the best of his judgment and that (if I wished it), he would tell theold man to keep his good spirits under better control. I asked himhow he came to hear of the man. He only answered, 'By accident, myLady'--and not one more word could I get out of him, good or bad. Moodyengages the servants, as you know; but on every other occasion he hasinvariably consulted me before an engagement was settled. I really don'tfeel at all sure about this person who has been so strangely introducedinto the house--he may be a drunkard or a thief. I wish you would speakto Moody yourself, Mr. Troy. Do you mind ringing the bell?"

  Mr. Troy rose, as a matter of course, and rang the bell.

  He was by this time, it is needless to say, convinced that Moody hadnot only gone back to consult Old Sharon on his own responsibility, butworse still, had taken the unwarrantable liberty of introducing him, asa spy, into the house. To communicate this explanation to Lady Lydiardwould, in her present humor, be simply to produce the dismissal of thesteward from her service. The only other alternative was to ask leave tointerrogate Moody privately, and, after duly reproving him, to insist onthe departure of Old Sharon as the one condition on which Mr. Troy wouldconsent to keep Lady Lydiard in ignorance of the truth.

  "I think I shall manage better with Moody, if your Ladyship will permitme to see him in private," the lawyer said. "Shall I go downstairs andspeak with him in his own room?"

  "Why should you trouble yourself to do that?" said her Ladyship. "Seehim here; and I will go into the boudoir."

  As she made that reply, the footman appeared at the drawing-room door.

  "Send Moody here," said Lady Lydiard.

  The footman's answer, delivered at that moment, assumed an importancewhich was not expressed in the footman's words. "My Lady," he said, "Mr.Moody has gone out."