Africa -- Fiction; Businessmen -- Fiction; Crime -- England -- Fiction; Criminals -- England -- Fiction
Mr. Girdlestone's room was immediately above hers. On the second day of
her imprisonment she went up on to this landing, for, having nothing to
read save the Bible, and no materials for writing, she had little to do
but to wander over the old house, and through the grounds. The door of
Girdlestone's room was ajar, and she could not help observing as she
passed that the apartment was most elegantly and comfortably furnished.
So was the next room, the door of which was also open. The solid
furniture and rich carpet contrasted strangely with her own bare,
whitewashed chamber. All this pointed to the fact that her removal to
the Priory had not been a sudden impulse on the part of the old
merchant, but that he had planned and arranged every detail beforehand.
Her refusal of Ezra was only the excuse for setting the machinery in
motion. What was the object, then, and what was to be the end of this
subtle scheming? That was the question which occurred to her every
hour of the day, and every hour the answer seemed more grim and
menacing.
There was one link in the chain which was ever hidden from her. It had
never occurred to the girl that her fortune could be of moment to the
firm. She had been so accustomed to hear Ezra and his father talk
glibly of millions, that she depreciated her own little capital and
failed to realize how important it might be in a commercial crisis.
Indeed, the possibility of such a crisis never entered her head, for one
of her earliest impressions was hearing her father talk of the great
resources of the firm and of its stability. That this firm was now in
the direst straits, and that her money was absolutely essential to its
existence, were things which never for one instant entered her thoughts.
Yet that necessity was becoming more pressing every day. Ezra, in
London, was doing all that indomitable energy and extraordinary business
capacity could do to prolong the struggle. As debts became due, he
would still stave off each creditor with such skill and plausibility as
allayed every suspicion. Day by day, however, the work became more
severe, and he felt that he was propping up an edifice which was so
rotten that it must, sooner or later, come crumbling about his ears.
When he came down to the Priory upon the Saturday, the young man's
haggard and anxious face showed the severe ordeal which he had
undergone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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