by Louis Tracy
CHAPTER XII.
_The Close of One Epoch._
Before retiring to rest, Philip ascertained Mr. Abingdon's Londonaddress, and wrote asking for an appointment the following evening.
He also interviewed the manager.
"I want the help of a thoroughly reliable solicitor," he said. "I wishto purchase some property--not valuable property, but of importance tome. Can you give me the address of some one known to you?"
M. Foret named a reputable firm in the locality.
"They may refer to you," added Philip. "Of course, I do not ask you tosay more than that I am staying here, but the point is, I do not wishyou to mention my age."
"Will you not see them, then?"
"No. I will endeavor to conduct the whole business by post."
The manager laughed.
"You certainly are the coolest young gentleman I ever met. However, Mr.Anson, it may please you to know that your bank gave you the best ofrecommendations. I will say so to anybody."
So Philip first drafted and then copied the following letter:
"DEAR SIRS: M. Foret, of this hotel, has given me your names as a firm likely to transact certain negotiations for me. I want to purchase a small property in the Mile End Road, known as Johnson's Mews; also a shop near the entrance to the mews, tenanted by a marine-store dealer named O'Brien. The mews is owned by the Cardiff and Havre Coal Company, Ltd. I do not know who owns the shop. I wish to acquire these properties for a philanthropic purpose, but I am most desirous that my name should not figure in the transaction. I propose, therefore, when you have ascertained the price, which should be at the earliest possible moment, to pay to your credit the requisite amount. You can have the properties transferred to any nominee you choose, and again transferred to me. Kindly add your costs, etc., to the purchase price. My movements are somewhat uncertain, so please send all communications by letter. It will be an obligation, and lead to future business, if you attend to this matter to-morrow morning. Yours faithfully,
"PHILIP ANSON."
He did not compose this letter without considerable trouble. The"philanthropic purpose" he had already decided upon, but he thought itwas rather clever to refer to the possibilities of "future business."
As for the double transfer, he distinctly remembered copying lettersdealing with several such transactions at the time of the coal company'sconversion into a limited liability concern.
He was early to bed, and his rest was not disturbed by dreams. He roselong before the ordinary residents. Deferring his breakfast, he walkedto Fleet Street and purchased copies of morning and evening papers forthe whole of the week.
He could thus enjoy the rare luxury of seeing himself as others saw him.He read the perfervid descriptions of the scene in court, and foundhimself variously described as "pert," "masterful," "imperious," "highlyintelligent," "endowed with a thin veneer of education," and"affected."
Philip could afford to laugh at the unfavorable epithets. Up to the ageof thirteen, he had been trained in a first-rate lycee, and his work wassupervised by his mother, a woman of very great culture. He spoke Frenchas well as English, and spoke both admirably. He knew some Greek andLatin, was well advanced in arithmetic, and had a special penchant forhistory and geography.
It was in the glowing articles which appeared during his imprisonmentthat he took the keenest interest. Oddly enough, one ingeniouscorrespondent blundered onto a clew. Gifted with an analytical mind, hehad reasoned that the diamond-laden meteor fell during the extraordinarystorm of the nineteenth, and the Meteorological Department in VictoriaStreet helped him by describing the center of the disturbance assituated somewhat to the east of the London Hospital.
This writer had actually interviewed a member of the staff of thatinstitution who amused himself by noting barometrical vagaries. Hisinstrument recorded an extraordinary increase of pressure soon after teno'clock on the night of the storm.
"Alas!" added the scribe, "it did not indicate where the meteor fell,and not a policeman, 'bus driver or railway official can be found whoobserved anything beyond a phenomenal electrical display and a violentdownpour of rain."
That was too close to be pleasant, and Philip was glad to hear from M.Foret that the solicitors, after telephoning to ask for some particularsconcerning Mr. Anson, were giving prompt attention to his instructions.
"What did you tell them?" asked Philip.
"I said that you impressed me as the kind of young gentleman who wouldpay well for services given unsparingly."
"Did that satisfy them?"
"Perfectly. Such clients do not abound in these hard times."
Three hours later, a letter came for "Philip Anson, Esq.," by hand. Itwas from the solicitors, and read:
"We are in receipt of your esteemed instructions. Although Saturday is a day on which it is difficult to do business, we lost no time in inspecting the premises in the Mile End Road, accompanied by a surveyor. We found that the mews stand approximately on an area of three thousand two hundred superficial feet, while the shop tenanted by O'Brien has a frontage on the main road of eighteen feet, with a probable depth of thirty or thirty-five feet. The owner of this shop is a resident in the neighborhood, and he will accept four hundred and fifty pounds for the freehold.
"We were fortunate in finding the managing director of the Cardiff and Havre Coal Company, Ltd., at his office. Although the company require the mews for the purpose of a depot, they are not unwilling to sell, with a stipulation that the premises shall not be used by any competing company during a period of twenty years from the date of transfer. We stated that the site was required for a philanthropic purpose, but the latter stipulation is insisted on. The price asked is two thousand two hundred pounds, which we consider excessive, there being a very inadequate approach. Moreover, we wish to point out that O'Brien's shop does not adjoin the mews, and it would be necessary to purchase two other houses to make the entire property a compact one.
"However, adhering to the letter of your instructions, we have pleasure in informing you that the two properties can be acquired with very little delay, for two thousand six hundred and fifty pounds. The legal and other charges will not exceed one hundred and fifty pounds. We trust, etc."
Philip immediately wrote:
"I am greatly obliged by your promptitude in the matter of Johnson's Mews and the shop. I inclose check herewith for two thousand eight hundred pounds. The purchase of the other houses can stand over for a few days."
This he dispatched by special messenger, and in a few minutes he held aformal receipt.
A telegram came for him. It was from Mr. Abingdon.
"Can see you after six at my house."
Then Philip enjoyed his first real breathing space during hours ofdaylight. He went by train to the cemetery in which his mother wasburied, carrying with him a beautiful wreath.
It was a remarkable fact that this was the first visit he had paid toher grave. During the days of misery and partial madness which followedher death he never lost the delusion that her spirit abided with him inthe poor dwelling they called "home."
Hence, the narrow resting place beneath the green turf in no wayappealed to him. But now, that a succession of extraordinary externalevents had restored the balance of his mind, he realized that she wasreally dead and buried; that what he revered as her spirit was in trutha fragrant memory; that he would be nearest to her mortal remains whenstanding in the remote corner of the burial ground allotted to thepoorest of the poor--those removed by one degree from pauperdom and aparish grave.
It happened, by mere chance, that since Mrs. Anson's funeral no one hadbeen interred on one side of the small space purchased for her. Therewere three vacant plots here, and a surprised official told Philip therewould be no difficulty in acquiring these for the purpose of erecting asuitable monum
ent.
The boy filled in the necessary forms there and then. It was someconsolation to know that he could perpetuate her memory in this way,though he had formulated another project which should keep her namerevered through the ages.
On the site of Johnson's Mews should arise the Mary Anson Home forDestitute Boys. He would build a place where those who were willing towork and learn would be given a chance, and not driven, starving anddesperate, to pick up an existence in the gutter.
He was too young to devise all the details of such a splendidinstitution, but he had got the idea and would possess the money. Hewould leave the practical part of the undertaking to older heads.
The one essential feature was that generations yet unborn should learnto love and honor the name of Mary Anson. Provided that were achieved,he knew the work would be successful.
Soon after leaving the cemetery he came face to face with Bradley, thepoliceman, who was in plain clothes, and walking with a lady, obviouslyMrs. Bradley, judging by the matronly manner in which she wheeled aperambulator containing a chubby infant.
"Well, I'm blowed!" cried the policeman, "who would have thought ofmeeting you! I looked in at the mews last night, but you had gone. Someone is looking after you pretty well; eh?"
He cast a patronizing eye over Philip's garments, which were, of course,considerably smarter in appearance than those in which the constable hadseen him on Thursday evening.
"Yes," said Philip. "I am in good hands now."
"They haven't given you a watch?" This anxiously.
"No. I am watchless."
"That's right. You'll have one soon. The inspector has your address. Bythe way, he wants to know your Christian name."
"Philip."
"Thanks. I won't forget."
Philip raised his hat and took the quickest route westward. He did notcount on being recognized so easily.
Mr. Abingdon received him with some degree of reserve. The magistratecould not understand the receipt of a letter bearing the address of thePall Mall Hotel, a place where he had been entertained at dinneroccasionally by one of his wealthy friends, but which was far removedfrom the limit imposed on the pocket of any man whose resources dependedon the exercise of an ordinary profession.
But Philip still figured in his mind as a ragged urchin. Not even theskilled police magistrate could picture him as the actual owner ofmillions of pounds worth of portable property. Hence, the boy'sappearance now told in his favor. Cursory impressions soon yielded topositive bewilderment when Philip began to relate his story faithfullyfrom beginning to end, neither exaggerating nor suppressing any salientdetail save the actual locality where his astounding adventures foundtheir center and genesis.
Mr. Abingdon did not doubt for one moment that the boy was telling thetruth. The romance of his narrative was far beyond fiction.
Philip himself grew enthusiastic as he went on. His brown eyes blazedagain with the memory of his wrath and shame at the arrest. He told themagistrate exactly how the proceedings in court had affected him, andgave a vivid picture of his bargaining with Isaacstein, the packing ofthe diamonds, the fight between the policeman and a burglar, hisinterviews with all sorts and conditions of men, and the ruses he hadadopted to preserve his secret.
At last he came to the transaction which secured for him the ownershipof the mews itself. He read copies of his letters to the solicitors, andtheir replies, and then, of course, the magistrate knew where the meteorhad fallen.
"That is a very clever move on your part," he said, smiling. "It investsyou with all the rights and usages of that particular piece of earth,and effectually stops anyone from disputing your possession of themeteor. How did you come to think of it?"
"You put the idea into my mind, sir," said Philip, modestly.
"I? In what manner?"
"You hinted, at our last meeting, that some one might lay claim to mydiamonds on the ground that they had fallen on their property. I do notintend that anyone living, except yourself, shall ever know the historyof my meteor, but I thought it best to buy the place outright in thefirst instance, and then devote it to a charity which I intend to foundin memory of my mother."
Mr. Abingdon smiled again.
"Your confidence is very flattering," he said. "I suppose you took upyour quarters at the Pall Mall Hotel in order to impress people withyour importance and secure instant compliance with your wishes?"
"That was my motive, sir."
"Then, my young millionaire, in what way do you wish me to serve you? Ofcourse, you have not sought this interview and told me your story sounreservedly without an ulterior object in view? You see, I am beginningto understand you already a little better than when we first met."
Philip did not reply immediately. He did not want to risk a refusal, andhe was not yet quite sure that the magistrate fully comprehended theextent of the fortune which had been showered on him from nature's ownmint.
"When Mr. Isaacstein returns from Amsterdam he will pay me somethinglike forty thousand pounds," he said.
"Yes. It would seem so from the receipt you have shown me."
"That will be determined on Wednesday next at the latest."
"Yes."
"If the money is forthcoming it will be proof positive that my diamondsare of good quality, and, as I picked up these dirty stones quitepromiscuously, it follows that the others are of the same standard?"
"Undoubtedly."
"Well, Mr. Abingdon, I can form no estimate of their collective value,but they must be worth many millions. According to Mr. Isaacstein'sviews, I will be able to command a revenue of between a quarter and halfa million sterling per annum."
"It is marvelous, perfectly appalling in some senses," cried theperturbed lawyer, throwing up his hands in the extremity of hisamazement.
"You are right, sir. I am only a boy, and the thing is beyond my powers.I can see quite clearly that while I ought to be at college obtaining aproper education, I will be worrying about the care of great sums ofmoney. I do not know anything about investments. How should I?Isaacstein is a Jew, and he will probably endeavor very soon to get thebetter of me in the necessary business transactions. How can I stop him?I have no older relatives, no friends whom I can trust. For some reason,I do feel that I can have faith in you. Will you take charge of myaffairs, advise me during the next few years, tell me how to act as mymother would have told me--in a word, become my guardian?"
For a little while Mr. Abingdon was silent. When words came he couldonly gasp:
"You certainly are the most extraordinary boy I have ever encountered."
Then Philip laughed merrily.
"I don't think, sir, that I am so much an extraordinary boy as a boy whohas been pitchforked into an extraordinary position. I hope mostsincerely that you will do what I ask. If I may say so withoutpresumption, it will be a good thing for you. I suppose a man who looksafter millions of money is entitled to a vastly bigger income than onewho sits hours in a police court dealing with offenses against the law."
"Such has certainly been my experience," said the magistrate, whoappreciated the nice manner in which Philip hinted at a good, fat salaryfor controlling the estate of the King of Diamonds.
"Then you agree," cried Philip, joyously.
"Not so fast, my youthful friend. Even a police magistrate must bow tohis wife. Mrs. Abingdon would never forgive me if I took such animportant step without consulting her. Will you remain to dinner?"
Then Philip knew that he had gained his point. Nothing was said beforethe servants, but when they were cozily ensconced in the library beforea pleasant fire, he was asked to relate again his entrancing history forMrs. Abingdon's benefit.
That good lady was overwhelmed. She, like everybody else, had read thenewspapers, and, of course, had the additional benefit of her husband'sviews on the subject of the unkempt boy with his small parcel ofvaluable gems.
But the presence of Philip under their roof, the glamour of the tale asit fell from his lips, cast a spell over her. She w
as a kindly soul,too, and tears gathered in her eyes at some portions of the recital.
"What a pity it is that your mother died," she murmured, when he hadended.
The words endeared her to Philip instantly. A worldly, grasping womanwould have thought of nothing save the vista of wealth opened up for herhusband and herself. Not so Mrs. Abingdon. If anything, she was somewhatafraid of the responsibilities proposed to be undertaken by her spouse,to whom she was devoted.
The magistrate did not promise definitely that night to accept theposition offered to him. He would think over the matter. He could retireon a pension at any time. This he would now do without delay, and Philipcould certainly count on his friendship and advice, while his housewould always be open to him.
Meanwhile, he would give one word of advice--intrust no human being withthe power to sign any binding document without his--Philip's--consent.Then it would be difficult for anyone to deal unscrupulously with him.
The boy went away at a late hour. He left behind him an exceedinglyperplexed couple, but he felt that when Mr. Abingdon had time toassimilate the facts, and realize the great scope of the work beforehim, there was little doubt he would gladly associate himself with it.
At the hotel a telegram awaited him:
"Have realized for fifty-two thousand. Returning Monday. ISAACSTEIN."
Here was the final proof, if proof were wanting. Philip was amillionaire many times over.