Miser Farebrother: A Novel (vol. 3 of 3) — John Shaqi
Miser Farebrother: A Novel (vol. 3 of 3)Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
General
Miser Farebrother: A Novel (vol. 3 of 3)
Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
Fiction
"We could get his hidden treasure as well, mother," Jeremiah had said.
"No one but ourselves knows of that. If it were necessary, we could
leave England for a time." But this suggestion had been stoutly opposed
by Mrs. Pamflett. "It would never do," she had said. "Our disappearance
would draw instant suspicion upon us. We have managed for him so many
years--I here in Parksides, you in the London office. No, Jeremiah; we
must stop and brave it out. I am certain there would be very little to
fear, and that neither the policeman nor the cabman would be able to
identify you. Besides, the bracelet restored, there would be no charge.
The lady's maid stole it, not you, and she will not come back. She is in
sure hiding, and so is that monster Captain Ablewhite. You would be
safe, Jeremiah--you would be safe." And then she repeated, "If Miser
Farebrother were out of the way!" Already their dark thoughts had
compassed the result. The means had not been mentioned or discussed, but
they were ready for any expedient, however desperate which would bring
it about and remove the threatened danger. Mrs. Pamflett, to insure her
son's safety, was prepared for any risk to herself, for any sacrifice.
And here, sitting within a few inches of Jeremiah, was the man whose
death meant life and liberty for him--was the man who could make a felon
of him, who could ruin him absolutely and for ever and ever! "If he were
to die now in his chair!" thought Jeremiah. Then came the thought that
Miser Farebrother was an old man, weak and nerveless, and that two
strong hands around his neck would squeeze the life out of him in a very
few moments. It would be soon over, and there would be an end to the
tortures Jeremiah was suffering. Meanwhile Miser Farebrother was
speaking again.
"Were those the office keys jingling in your pocket, Jeremiah, when you
took out your handkerchief? Let me see them; it may be the last
opportunity I shall have of handling the old friends. Yes, here they
are, all on a single ring--the key of the office door, the key of the
room in which you sleep, the keys of the safe and the deed and cash
boxes. All here, all here! Have you duplicates of them? No! Then without
these keys you could not enter the office, you could not open the safe?
Come, old friends, into _my_ drawer you go--and you are safely locked
there, and the key in my pocket!"
And now, to Jeremiah's astonishment and consternation, Miser Farebrother
rose to his feet and stood upright before his knavish clerk. All his
apparent weakness had disappeared; his face was flushed with anger; in
his eyes there was a look of stern resolution.
"I summoned you here," he said, and his firm voice struck terror to
Jeremiah's heart, "to obtain not only an explanation but satisfaction
from you. Doubtless you have read this."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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