Davenport Dunn, a Man of Our Day. Volume 2 (of 2)Lever, Charles
General
Davenport Dunn, a Man of Our Day. Volume 2 (of 2)
Lever, Charles
Aristocracy (Social class) -- Great Britain -- Fiction; Capitalists and financiers -- Fiction
“Of course, it must, and the very first of all! But I am not going to
enter minutely into these things now, Hankes. I need a little of that
rest you were just recommending me to take. Be here to-morrow at twelve;
do not mention my arrival to any one, but come over with the Ossory
statement and the two or three other most important returns.”
Mr. Hankes rose to withdraw; and as he moved towards the door, his eye
caught the oaken box, with three large seals placed by his own hand.
“You have scarcely had time to think about these papers, sir; but they
will have their importance when that peerage case comes to be discussed.
The Lackingtons were Conways--”
“Let me have a look at them,” said Dunn, rapidly.
Hankes broke open the paper bands, and unlocked the box. For some time
he searched through the documents as they lay, and then emptying them
all upon the table, he went over them more carefully, one by one. “Good
heavens!” cried he, “how can this be?”
“What do you mean?” exclaimed Dunn; “you do not pretend that they are
missing?”
“They are gone,--they are not here!” said the other, almost fainting
from agitation.
“But these are the seals you yourself fastened on the box.”
“I know it,--I see it; and I can make nothing of it.”
“Mr. Hankes, Mr. Hankes, this is serious,” said Dunn, as he bent upon
the affrighted man a look of heart-searching significance.
“I swear before Heaven--I take my most solemn oath--”
“Never mind swearing; how could they have been extricated? That is the
question to be solved.”
Hankes examined the seals minutely; they were his own. He scrutinized
the box on every side to see if any other mode of opening it existed;
but there was none. He again went through the papers,--opening, shaking,
sifting them, one by one; and then, with a low, faint sigh, he sank down
upon a chair, the very image of misery and dismay. “Except it was the
devil himself--”
“The devil has plenty of far more profitable work on hand, sir,” said
Dunn, sternly; and then, in a calmer tone, added, “Is it perfectly
certain that you ever saw the documents you allude to? and when?”
“Saw them? Why, I held them in my hands for several minutes. It was I
myself replaced them in the box before sealing it.”
“And what interval of time occurred between your reading them and
sealing them up?”
“A minute,--half a minute, perhaps; stay,” cried he, suddenly, “I
remember now that I left the room to call the landlord. Miss Kellett
remained behind.”
With a dreadful imprecation Dunn struck his forehead with his hand, and
sank into his seat. “What cursed folly,” cried he, bitterly, “and what
misfortune and ruin may it beget!”
“It was then that she took them,--that was the very moment,” muttered
Hankes, as he followed on his own dreary thoughts.
“My father was right,” said Dunn, below his breath; “that girl will
bring sorrow on us yet.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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