Ailsa Paige: A NovelChambers, Robert W. (Robert William)
History
Ailsa Paige: A Novel
Chambers, Robert W. (Robert William)
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction; War stories, American
Colonel Arran inspected him through partly closed and heavy eyes;
"I am further informed," he said, that at twenty-four you have
already managed to attain bankruptcy."
"Perfectly correct. What other items have you collected concerning
me?"
"You can retrace your own peregrinations if you care to. I believe
they follow a vicious circle bisecting the semi-fashionable world,
and the--other. Shall we say that the expression, unenviable
notoriety, summarises the reputation you have acquired?"
"Exactly," he said; "both kinds of vice, Colonel Arran--respectable
and disreputable."
"Oh! And am I correct in concluding that, at this hour, you stand
there a financially ruined man--at twenty-four years of age----"
"I do stand here; but I'm going to sit down."
He did so, dropped both elbows on the cloth, and balancing his chin
on the knuckles of his clasped hands, examined the older man with
insolent, unchanging gaze.
"Go on," he said coolly, "what else do you conclude me to be?"
"What else is there to say to you, Berkley? You have evidently
seen my attorneys."
"I have; the fat shyster and the bow-legged one." He reached over,
poured himself a glass of brandy from a decanter, then, with an
unpleasant laugh, set it aside untasted.
"I beg your pardon. I've had a hard day of it. I'm not myself,"
he said with an insolent shrug of excuse. "At eleven o'clock this
morning Illinois Central had fallen three more points, and I had no
further interest in the market. Then one of your brokers--" He
leaned farther forward on the table and stared brightly at the
older man, showing an edge of even teeth, under the receding upper
lip:
"How long have your people been watching me?"
"Long enough to give me what information I required."
"Then you really _have_ had me watched?"
"I have chosen to keep in touch with your--career, Berkley."
Berkley's upper lip again twitched unpleasantly; but, when at
length he spoke, he spoke more calmly than before and his mobile
features were in pallid repose.
"One of your brokers--Cone--stopped me. I was too confused to
understand what he wanted of me. I went with him to your
attorneys--" Like lightning the snarl twitched his mouth again; he
made as though to rise, and controlled himself in the act.
"Where are the originals of those letters?" he managed to say at
last.
"In this house."
"Am I to have them?"
"I think so."
"So do I," said the young man with a ghastly smile. "I'm quite
sure of it."
Colonel Arran regarded him in surprise.
"There is no occasion for violence in this house, Berkley."
"Where are the letters?"
"Have you any doubts concerning what my attorneys have told you?
The originals are at your immediate disposal if you wish."
Then Berkley struck the table fiercely, and stood up, as claret
splashed and trembling crystal rang.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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