The Talleyrand MaximFletcher, J. S. (Joseph Smith)
General
The Talleyrand Maxim
Fletcher, J. S. (Joseph Smith)
Detective and mystery stories
Parrawhite laughed, and flourished a heavy stick which he carried.
"Not a bit of it!" he said, almost pleasantly. "I thought you were more
of a philosopher--I fancied I'd seen gleams--mere gleams--of philosophy
in you at times. Fortunes of war, my boy! Come now--you've seen enough
of me to know I'm an adventurer. This is an adventure of the sort I
love. Go into it heart and soul, man! Own up!--you've found out that the
will leaves the property away from the present holders, and you've been
to Normandale to--bargain? Come, now!"
"What then!" demanded Pratt.
"Then, of course, I come in at the bargaining," answered Parrawhite.
"I'm going to have my share. That's a certainty. You'd better take my
advice. Because you're absolutely in my power. I've nothing to do but to
tell Eldrick tomorrow morning."
"Suppose I tell Eldrick tomorrow morning of what you've told me?"
interjected Pratt.
"Eldrick will believe me before you," retorted Parrawhite,
imperturbably. "I'm a much cleverer, more plausible man than you are, my
friend--I've had an experience of the world which you haven't, I can
easily invent a fine excuse for being in that room. For two pins I'll
incriminate you! See? Be reasonable--for if it comes to a contest of
brains, you haven't a rabbit's chance against a fox. Tell me all about
the will--and what you've done. You've got to--for, by the Lord
Harry!--I'm going to have my share. Come, now!"
Pratt stood, in a little hollow wherein they had paused, and thought,
rapidly and angrily. There was no doubt about it--he was trapped. This
fearful scoundrel at his side, who boasted of his cleverness, would
stick to him like a leach--he would have to share. All his own smart
schemes for exploiting Mrs. Mallathorpe, for ensuring himself a
competence for life, were knocked on the head. There was no helping
it--he would have to tell--and to share. And so, sullenly, resentfully,
he told.
Parrawhite listened in silence, taking in every point. Pratt, knowing
that concealment was useless, told the truth about everything,
concisely, but omitting nothing.
"All right!" remarked Parrawhite at the end, "Now, then, what terms do
you mean to insist on?"
"What's the good of going into that?" growled Pratt. "Now that you've
stuck your foot in it, what do my terms matter?"
"Quite right," agreed Parrawhite, "They don't. What matter is--our
terms. Now let me suggest--no, insist on--what they must be. Cash! Do
you know why I insist on that? No? Then I'll tell you. Because this
young barrister chap, Collingwood, has evidently got some suspicion
of--something."
"I can't see it," said Pratt uneasily. "He was only curious to know what
that letter was about."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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