Greensea Island: A Mystery of the Essex CoastBridges, Victor
General
Greensea Island: A Mystery of the Essex Coast
Bridges, Victor
Adventure stories; Detective and mystery stories; England -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction
I went down the steps and into the street, feeling rather like a man
who has been unexpectedly released from gaol. As if by the wave of a
fairy's wand, everything I wanted seemed suddenly to have come
tumbling into my lap. I had an absurd desire to throw up my hat into
the air and indulge in a triumphant dance round the Nelson Column,
but the cold eye of a neighbouring policeman just saved me from this
social indiscretion.
A glance at my watch showed me that it was close on half-past three,
so, making my way across the square, I started back for Bedford Row.
This time I was not kept waiting on the ground floor. Directly I
arrived the old clerk conducted me upstairs to Mr. Drayton, whom I
found fully prepared for me, with the papers that he wished me to
sign laid out on his desk.
"Well," he said, "you're a bit early, but I'm ready for you. How did
you get on with your resignation?"
I told him of the gratifying fashion in which I had been received,
and he nodded his head, with the half-whimsical expression to which I
was becoming accustomed.
"Nobody could help being civil to you, Dryden," he said. "You're so
refreshingly straightforward."
I thought of the reserve I had practised on him with regard to my
relations with Miss de Roda, and for a moment I felt very much of a
humbug.
"What happened about the doctor?" I asked, by way of covering my
embarrassment. "Was he very upset when he found that I wouldn't
accept his offer?"
"He seemed a bit disgruntled; at least, it sounded like it over the
telephone. I rather think he means to have another shot at you
himself."
"I suppose you made it quite plain to him that I was in earnest?" I
asked.
"Quite," returned the lawyer, "but he's evidently one of those
obstinate cusses who won't take no for an answer. Anyhow, he
insisted on pressing me for your address. I told him that as far as
I knew you were staying on the _Neptune_ for the present, so perhaps
he'll turn up and plead his cause in person."
"He'll have a journey for nothing if he does," I said. "Still,
that's his pigeon, not mine."
I took a seat at the table, and, after reading through the various
documents, which Mr. Drayton explained to me in turn, I signed the
lot one after the other.
"Now we can go straight ahead," he observed, "and get the whole
business cleared up. I have sent a line to Bascomb telling him that
you are his new employer, so you will be able to go and inspect your
property without any fear of his setting the dog on you."
"That's comforting," I said with a laugh. "It would be a rotten
beginning to be torn in pieces on one's own landing-stage." I rose
from my chair and began to collect my hat and umbrella. "I shall run
down there to-morrow or the next day," I added. "It just depends how
soon I can leave the ship."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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