The Talleyrand Maxim

by J. S. Fletcher

  CHAPTER XIV

  CARDS ON THE TABLE

  Had any third person been present, closely to observe the meeting ofthese two young people, he would have seen that the one to whom it wasunexpected and a surprise was outwardly as calm and self-possessed as ifthe other had come there to keep an ordinary business appointment.

  Nesta Mallathorpe, looking very dignified and almost stately in hermourning, was obviously angry, indignant, and agitated. But Pratt was ascool and as fully at his ease as if he were back in Eldrick's office,receiving the everyday ordinary client. He swept his door open andexecuted his politest bow--and was clever enough to pretend that he sawnothing of his visitor's agitation. Yet deep within himself he felt moretremors than one, and it needed all his powers of dissimulation to actand speak as if this were the most usual of occurrences.

  "Good morning, Miss Mallathorpe!" he said. "You wish to see me? Comeinto my private office, if you please. I haven't fixed on a clerk yet,"he went on, as he led his visitor through the outer room, and to theeasy chair by his desk. "I have several applications from promisingaspirants, but I have to be careful, you know, Miss Mallathorpe--it's aposition of confidence. And now," he concluded, as he closed the doorupon Nesta and himself, "how is Mrs. Mallathorpe today? Improving, Ihope?"

  Nesta made no reply to these remarks, or to the question. And instead oftaking the easy chair which Eldrick had found so comfortable, she wentto one which stood against the wall opposite Pratt's desk and seatedherself in it in as upright a position as the wall behind her.

  "I wish to speak to you--plainly!" she said, as Pratt, who now regardedher somewhat doubtfully, realizing that he was in for business of aserious nature, sat down at his desk. "I want to ask you a plainquestion--and I expect a plain answer. Why are you blackmailing mymother?"

  Pratt shook his head--as if he felt more sorrow than anger. He glanceddeprecatingly at his visitor.

  "I think you'll be sorry--on reflection--that you said that, MissMallathorpe," he answered. "You're a little--shall we say--upset? Alittle--shall we say--angry? If you were calmer, you wouldn't say suchthings--you wouldn't use such a term as--blackmailing. It's--dear me, Idare say you don't know it!--it's actionable. If I were that sort ofman, Miss Mallathorpe, and you said that of me before witnesses--ah! Idon't know what mightn't happen. However--I'm not that sort of man.But--don't say it again, if you please!"

  "If you don't answer my question--and at once," said Nesta, whose cheekswere pale with angry determination, "I shall say it again in a fashionyou won't like--not to you, but to the police!"

  Pratt smiled--a quiet, strange smile which made his visitor feel asudden sense of fear. And again he shook his head, slowly anddeprecatingly.

  "Oh, no!" he said gently. "That's a bigger mistake than the other, MissMallathorpe! The police! Oh, not the police, I think, Miss Mallathorpe.You see--other people than you might go to the police--about somethingelse."

  Nesta's anger cooled down under that scarcely veiled threat. The sightof Pratt, of his self-assurance, his comfortable offices, his generalatmosphere of almost sleek satisfaction, had roused her temper, alreadystrained to breaking point. But that smile, and the quiet look whichaccompanied his last words, warned her that anger was mere foolishness,and that she was in the presence of a man who would have to be dealtwith calmly if the dealings were to be successful. Yet--she repeated herwords, but this time in a different tone.

  "I shall certainly go to the police authorities," she said, "unless Iget some proper explanation from you. I shall have no option. You areforcing--or have forced--my mother to enter into some strangearrangements with you, and I can't think it is for anything but what Isay--blackmail. You've got--or you think you've got--some hold on her.Now what is it? I mean to know, one way or another!"

  "Miss Mallathorpe," said Pratt. "You're taking a wrong course--with me.Now who advised you to come here and speak to me like this, as if I werea common criminal? Mr. Collingwood, no doubt? Or perhaps Mr. Robson? Nowif either----"

  "Neither Mr. Robson nor Mr. Collingwood know anything whatever about mycoming here!" retorted Nesta. "No one knows! I am quite competent tomanage my own affairs--of this sort. I want to know why my mother hasbeen forced into that arrangement with you--for I am sure you haveforced her! If you will not tell me why--then I shall do what I said."

  "You'll go to the police authorities?" asked Pratt. "Ah!--but let usconsider things a little, Miss Mallathorpe. Now, to start with, who saysthere has been any forcing? I know one person who won't say so--andthat's your mother herself!"

  Nesta felt unable to answer that assertion. And Pratt smiledtriumphantly and went on.

  "She'll tell you--Mrs. Mallathorpe'll tell you--that she's very pleasedindeed to have my poor services," he said. "She knows that I shall serveher well. She's glad to do a kind service to a poor relation. And sinceI am your mother's relation, Miss Mallathorpe, I'm yours, too. I'm somedegree of cousin to you. You might think rather better, rather morekindly, of me!"

  "Are you going to tell me anything more than that?" asked Nestasteadily. Pratt shrugged his shoulders and waved his hands.

  "What more can I tell?" he asked. "The fact is, there's a businessarrangement between me and your mother--and you object to it. Well--I'msorry, but I've my own interests to consider."

  "Are you going to tell me what it was that induced my mother to signthat paper you got from her the other day?" asked Nesta.

  "Can I say more than that it was--a business arrangement?" pleadedPratt. "There's nothing unusual in one party in a business arrangementgiving a power of attorney to another party. Nothing!"

  "Very well!" said Nesta, rising from the straight-backed chair, andlooking very rigid herself as she stood up. "You won't tell me anything!So--I am now going to the police. I don't know what they'll do. I don'tknow what they can do. But--I can tell them what I think and feel aboutthis, at any rate. For as sure as I am that I see you, there's somethingwrong! And I'll know what it is."

  Pratt recognized that she had passed beyond the stage of mere anger toone of calm determination. And as she marched towards the door he calledher back--as the result of a second's swift thought on his part.

  "Miss Mallathorpe," he said. "Oblige me by sitting down again. I'm notin the least afraid of your going to the police. But my experience isthat if one goes to them on errands of this sort, it sets all sorts ofthings going--scandal, and suspicion, and I don't know what! You don'twant any scandal. Sit down, if you please, and let us think for amoment. And I'll see if I can tell you--what you want to know."

  Nesta already had a hand on the door. But after looking at him for asecond or two, she turned back, and sat down in her old position. AndPratt, still seated at his desk, plunged his hands in his trouserspockets, tilted back his chair, and for five minutes stared with knittedbrows at his blotting pad. A queer silence fell on the room. The windowswere double-sashed; no sound came up from the busy street below. But onthe mantelpiece a cheap Geneva clock ticked and ticked, and Nesta feltat last that if it went on much longer, without the accompaniment of ahuman voice, she should suddenly snatch it up, and hurl it--anywhere.

  Pratt was in the position of the card-player, who, confronted by acertain turn in the course of a game which he himself feels sure he isbound to win, wonders whether he had better not expedite matters bylaying his cards on the table, and asking his opponent if he canpossibly beat their values and combination. He had carefully reckoned uphis own position more than once during the progress of recent events,and the more carefully he calculated it the more he felt convinced thathe had nothing to fear. He had had to alter his ground in consequence ofthe death of Harper Mallathorpe, and he had known that he would have tofight Nesta. But he had not anticipated that hostilities would come sosoon, or begin with such evident determination on her part. How would itbe, then, at this first stage to make such a demonstration in force thatshe would recognize his strength?

  He looked up at last and saw Nesta regarding him sternly. But Prattsmiled--t
he quiet smile which made her uneasy.

  "Miss Mallathorpe!" he said. "I was thinking of two things just then--agame at cards--and the science of warfare. In both it's a good thingsometimes to let your adversary see what a strong hand you've got. Now,then, a question, if you please--are you and I adversaries?"

  "Yes!" answered Nesta unflinchingly. "You're acting like an enemy--youare an enemy!"

  "I've hoped that you and I would be friends--good friends," said Pratt,with something like a sigh. "And if I may say so, I've no feeling ofenmity towards you. When I speak of us being adversaries, I mean itin--well, let's say a sort of legal sense. But now I'll show you myhand--that is, as far as I please. Will you listen quietly to me?"

  "I've no choice," replied Nesta bluntly. "And I came here to know whatyou've got to say for yourself. Say it!"

  Pratt moved his chair a little nearer to his visitor.

  "Now," he said, speaking very quietly and deliberately, "I'll go throughwhat I have to say to you carefully, point by point. I shall ask you togo back a little way. It is now some time since I discovered a secretabout your mother, Mrs. Mallathorpe. Ah, you start!--it may be withindignation, but I assure you I'm telling you, and am going to tell you,the absolute truth. I say--a secret! No one knows it but myself--not oneliving soul! Except, of course, your mother. I shall not reveal it toyou--under any consideration, or in any circumstances--but I can tellyou this--if that secret were revealed, your mother would be ruined forlife--and you yourself would suffer in more ways than one."

  Nesta looked at him incredulously--and yet she began to feel he wastelling some truth. And Pratt shook his head at the incredulousexpression.

  "It's quite so!" he said. "You'll begin to believe it---from otherthings. Now, it was in connection with this that I paid a visit toNormandale Grange one evening some months ago. Perhaps you never heardof that? I was alone with your mother for some time in the study."

  "I have heard of it," she answered.

  "Very good," said Pratt. "But you haven't heard that your mother came tosee me at my rooms here in Barford--my lodgings--the very next night! Onthe same business, of course. But she did--I know how she came, too.Secretly--heavily veiled--naturally, she didn't want anybody to know.Are you beginning to see something in it, Miss Mallathorpe?"

  "Go on with your--story," answered Nesta.

  "I go on, then, to the day before your brother's death," continuedPratt. "Namely, a certain Friday. Now, if you please, I'll invite you tolisten carefully to certain facts--which are indisputable, which I canprove, easily. On that Friday, the day before your brother's death, Mrs.Mallathorpe was in the shrubbery at Normandale Grange which is near thenorth end of the old foot-bridge. She was approached by Hoskins, an oldwoodman, who has been on the estate a great many years--you know himwell enough. Hoskins told Mrs. Mallathorpe that the foot-bridge betweenthe north and south shrubberies, spanning the cut which was made there along time since so that a nearer road could be made to the stables, wasin an extremely dangerous condition--so dangerous, in fact, that in hisopinion, it would collapse under even a moderate weight. I impress thisfact upon you strongly."

  "Well?" said Nesta.

  "Hoskins," Pratt went on, "urged upon Mrs. Mallathorpe the necessity ofhaving the bridge closed at once, or barricaded. He pointed out to herfrom where they stood certain places in the bridge, and in the railingon one side of it, which already sagged in such a fashion, that he, as aman of experience, knew that planks and railings were literally rottenwith damp. Now what did Mrs. Mallathorpe do? She said nothing toHoskins, except that she'd have the thing seen to. But she immediatelywent to the estate carpenter's shop, and there she procured two shortlengths of chain, and two padlocks, and she herself went back to thefoot-bridge and secured its wicket gates at both ends. I beg you willbear that in mind, too, Miss Mallathorpe."

  "I am bearing everything in mind," said Nesta resolutely. "Don't beafraid that I shall forget one word that you say."

  "I hear that sneer in your voice," answered Pratt, as he turned,unlocked a drawer, and drew out some papers. "But I think you will soonlearn that the sneer at what I'm telling you is foolish. Mrs.Mallathorpe had a set purpose in locking up those gates--as you will seepresently. You will see it from what I am now going to tell you. Obligeme, if you please, by looking at that letter. Do you recognize yourmother's handwriting?"

  "Yes!" admitted Nesta, with a sudden feeling of apprehension. "That isher writing."

  "Very good," said Pratt. "Then before I read it to you, I'll just tellyou what this letter is. It formed, when it was written, an invitationfrom Mrs. Mallathorpe to me--an invitation to walk, innocently, intowhat she knew--knew, mind you!--to be a death-trap! She meant _me_ tofall through the bridge!"