PEG had been thinking.
This was the substance of her reflections. Ida, whom she had kidnappedfor certain purposes of her own, was likely to prove an (sic)incumbrance rather than a source of profit. The child, her suspicionsawakened in regard to the character of the money she had been employedto pass off, was no longer available for that purpose. So firmlyresolved was she not to do what was wrong, that threats and persuasionswere alike unavailing. Added to this was the danger of her encounteringsome one sent in search of her by the Crumps.
Under these circumstances, Peg bethought herself of the ultimate objectwhich she had proposed to herself in kidnapping Ida--that of extortingmoney from a man who is now to be introduced to the reader.
John Somerville occupied a suite of apartments in a handsomelodging-house on Walnut Street. A man wanting yet several years offorty, he looked a greater age. Late hours and dissipation, thoughkept within respectable limits, had left their traces on his face. Attwenty-one he inherited a considerable fortune, which, combined withsome professional practice (for he was a lawyer, and not withoutability), was quite sufficient to support him handsomely, and leavea considerable surplus every year. But, latterly, he had contracted apassion for gaming, and however shrewd he might be naturally, hecould hardly be expected to prove a match for the wily habitues of thegaming-table, who had marked him as their prey.
The evening before he is introduced to the reader's notice he had,passed till a late hour at a fashionable gambling-house, where hehad lost heavily. His reflections, on awakening, were not of thepleasantest. For the first time, within fifteen years, he realized thefolly and imprudence of the course he had pursued. The evening previoushe had lost a thousand dollars, for which he had given his I O U. Whereto raise this money, he did not know. He bathed his aching head, andcursed his ill luck, in no measured terms. After making his toilet, herang the bell, and ordered breakfast.
For this he had but scanty appetite. Scarcely had he finished, anddirected the removal of the dishes, than the servant entered to announcea visitor.
"Is it a gentleman?" he inquired, hastily, fearing it might be acreditor. He occasionally had such visitors.
"No, sir."
"A lady?"
"No, sir."
"A child? But what could a child want of me?"
"If it's neither a gentleman, lady, nor child," said Somerville,somewhat surprised, "will you have the goodness to inform me who it is?"
"It's a woman, sir," said the servant, grinning.
"Why didn't you say so when I asked you?" said his employer, irritably.
"Because you asked if it was a lady, and this isn't--at least she don'tlook like one."
"You can send her up, whoever she is," said Mr. Somerville.
A moment afterwards Peg entered the apartment.
John Somerville looked at her without much interest, supposing that shemight be a seamstress, or laundress, or some applicant for charity. Somany years had passed since he had met with this woman, that she hadpassed out of his remembrance.
"Do you wish to see me about anything?" he asked, indifferently. "If so,you must be quick, for I am just going out."
"You don't seem to recognize me, Mr. Somerville," said Peg, fixing herkeen black eyes upon his face.
"I can't say I do," he replied, carelessly. "Perhaps you used to washfor me once."
"I am not in the habit of acting as laundress," said the woman, proudly.It is worth noticing that she was not above passing spurious coin, anddoing other things which are stamped as disreputable by the laws ofthe land, but her pride revolted at the imputation that she was awasher-woman.
"In that case," said Somerville, carelessly, "you will have to tell mewho you are, for it is out of my power to conjecture."
"Perhaps the name of Ida will assist your recollection," said Peg,composedly.
"Ida!" repeated John Somerville, changing color, and gazing now withattention at the woman's features.
"Yes."
"I have known several persons of that name," he said, evasively. "Ofcourse, I can't tell which of them you refer to."
"The Ida I mean was and is a child," said Peg. "But, Mr. Somerville,there's no use in beating about the bush, when I can come straight tothe point. It is now about eight years since my husband and myselfwere employed in carrying off a child--a female child of about a yearold--named Ida. We placed it, according to your directions, on thedoor-step of a poor family in New York, and they have since cared for itas their own. I suppose you have not forgotten that."
John Somerville deliberated. Should he deny it or not? He decided to puta bold face on the matter.
"I remember it," said he, "and now recall your features. How haveyou fared since the time I employed you? Have you found your businessprofitable?"
"Far from it," answered Peg. "We are not yet able to retire on acompetence."
"One of your youthful appearance," said Solmerville, banteringly, "oughtnot to think of retiring under ten years."
Peg smiled. She knew how to appreciate this speech.
"I don't care for compliments," said she, "even when they are sincere.As for my youthful appearance, I am old enough to have reached theage of discretion, and not so old as to have fallen into my secondchildhood."
"Compliments aside, then, will you proceed to whatever business hasbrought you here?"
"I want a thousand dollars."
"A thousand dollars!" repeated John Somerville. "Very likely, I shouldlike that amount myself. You have not come here to tell me that?"
"I have come here to ask that amount of you."
"Suppose I should say that your husband is the proper person for you toapply to in such a case."
"I think I am more likely to get it out of you," answered Peg, coolly."My husband couldn't supply me with a thousand cents, even if he werewilling, which is not likely."
"Much as I am flattered by your application," said Somerville, "since itwould seem to place me next in your estimation to your husband, I cannothelp suggesting that it is not usual to bestow such a sum on a stranger,or even a friend, without an equivalent rendered."
"I am ready to give you an equivalent."
"Of what value?"
"I am willing to be silent."
"And how can your silence benefit me?"
John Somerville asked this question with an assumption of indifference,but his fingers twitched nervously.
"That _you_ will be best able to estimate," said Peg.
"Explain yourself."
"I can do that in a few words. You employed me to kidnap a child.I believe the law has something to say about that. At any rate, thechild's mother may have."
"What do you know about the child's mother?" demanded Somerville,hastily.
"All about her!" returned Peg, emphatically.
"How am I to know that? It is easy to claim the knowledge."
"Shall I tell you all? In the first place she married your cousin,_after rejecting you_. You never forgave her for this. When a yearafter marriage her husband died, you renewed your proposals. Theywere rejected, and you were forbidden to renew the subject on pain offorfeiting her friendship forever. You left her presence, determined tobe revenged. With this object you sought Dick and myself, and employedus to kidnap the child. There is the whole story, briefly told."
John Somerville listened, with compressed lips and pale face.
"Woman, how came this within your knowledge?" he demanded, coarsely.
"That is of no consequence," said Peg. "It was for my interest to findout, and I did so."
"Well?"
"I know one thing more--the residence of the child's mother. I hesitatedthis morning whether to come here, or carry Ida to her mother, trustingto her to repay from gratitude what I demand from you, because it isyour interest to comply with my request."
"You speak of carrying the child to her mother. She is in New York."
"You are mistaken," said Peg, coolly. "She is in Philadelphia."
"With you?"
"With me."
"How long has this been?"
"Nearly a fortnight."
John Somerville paced the room with hurried steps. Peg watched himcarelessly. She felt that she had succeeded. He paused after awhile, andstood before her.
"You demand a thousand dollars," he said.
"I do."
"I have not that amount with me. I have recently lost a heavy sum, nomatter how. But I can probably get it to-day. Call to-morrow at thistime,--no, in the afternoon, and I will see what I can do for you."
"Very well," said Peg.
Left to himself, John Somerville spent some time in reflection.Difficulties encompassed him--difficulties from which he found it hardto find a way of escape. He knew how impossible it would be to meetthis woman's demand. Something must be done. Gradually his countenancelightened. He had decided what that something should be.
CHAPTER XXIII. THE LAW STEPS IN.
Timothy Crump's Ward: A Story of American Life Page 22