THE MAYOR'S DAUGHTER.
LITERATURE
* Where did you leave him, Spigot ?’ ‘ 1 left him on the doorstep, your worship.’ ‘Wretch,’ muttered Florence, with a contemptuous glance at Spigot as she left the room.
‘ And a very proper place too, Spigot, It’s inpossible this individual can have any business with me,’ said Mr Buddlecombe. ‘lt is some impertinent attempt at a vulgar joke. 1 shan’t see him. Tell him to go about bis business — that’s to say, if a military man has business anywhere. You may put it rather stronger than that. Tell him to go to the You understand, Spigot.’ ‘ Perfectly, your worship.’ ‘Tell this individual to go away, and that if he has any business with me he can communicate it by letter to my office to-morrow morning. And further, impress upon him the utter hopelessness of any attempt on his part to obtain even a transient view of me this evening, much less an interview.’ ‘ Very good, your worship.’ ‘ Oh, do you know, one’s digestive organs are completely upset by this affair,’ testily remarked the Mayor, as Spigot withdrew, adding in a querulous whine, ‘ I haven’t half the appetite I had. I’ll try and coax it back.’ With this object in view, Mr Buddlecombe reseated himself in his armchair, adjusted his double glasses, took up the menu, and addressed himself to the perusal of that entrancing schedule. The effect was apparently most soothing. He had however scarcely comfortably settled to his pleasing labour when the door was again opened, and Spigot entered with the demeanour of a criminal on his way to the scaffold. ‘ If you please, sir, it’s not my fault, your worship,’ faltered Spigot. ‘ What’s not your fault,’ asked Mr Buddlecombe, with the deepest anxiety, ‘ has anything happened to the dinner.’ ‘0 no, nothing so awful as that, your worship. It’s the young officer, your worship/ The Mayor started, and in spirit, if not in word, he went as near an oath as a Mayor’s pure spirit can go. ‘He’s the most impertinacious creature I ever came across, your worship. He says he particularly wants to see your worship.’ ‘ Does he. Well, well, perhaps it is pardonable on his part. Tell him I occasionally drive through the main street on my way to the courthouse, and if he * takes* up a position on the pavement—but he mustn’t climb a lamp-post, tell him, or a waterspout; I won’t have anything of that sort —and remains there long enough, he will ultimately enjoy the privilege of looking at me as I diive past. A cat may look at a King, and, I suppose, a soldior may look at a Mayor. At all events, I shan’t offer any objection. It may do him good, and it can’t do me any harm.’ When people are very angry there is nothing so soolhing, just for a passing moment, as the consciousness of having said a smartj or what they consider a smart, thing at the expense of the person who has provoked their wrath. Mr Buddlecombe almost smiled. Spigot was encouraged. ‘ He’s a civil-spoken young gentleman, your worship,’ he pleaded, as he instinctively placed his finger and thumb into his waistcoat pocket, and tenderly manipulated a sovereign which had recently found its way there, ‘ a very civil-spoken , young gent, and. his manners lead one to believe he’s moved in polite circles. He begs your worship will be good enough to read this letter.’
‘ 0, all this abominable annoyance will utterly ruin my zest for dinner/ growled Mr Buddlecombe, as he snatched the letter. 1 I’ll take his letter, but tell him I shall not see him tonight, and not to call here again. My clerk will answer it, if it requires an answer.’
* Very good, your worship.’ And Spigot withdrew, only tco glad to have earned his sovereign to easily ; for, though he did not approve of,soldiers. he knew that their money was as good as any other people’s. ‘ Now, I dare say,’ said the Mayor, holding the letter at arm’s length and looking suspiciously on it, ‘ that there’s a cracker or a squib inside, warranted to blow the opener’s eyes out. That’s the military idea ol a joke. I wonder whether Bolitho .would see it if it was played upon him. I wish they’d try.’ By this time the glasses had been properly adjusted, and the envelope opened, ‘ Hallo, what’s this,’ exclaimed Mr Buddlecombe, as, at the first glance, his eye caught that magic little symbol £, with a good long tail after it. e Con found that Spigot, running off in such a hurry.’ The bell was rung violently, and in a vary few moments Spigot reappeared. ‘ Don’t be in such a hurry. Spigot. This overdone assumption of nimbleness at your time of life, is unnatural, not to say ghastly.’ ‘ It is indeed, your worship,’ said Spigot, humbly, and out of breath. £ Wait outside until I call you in. I may have some message to deliver to this individual.’
The mandate was of course obeyed, ‘ Now, what can this person have to say to me on money matters. At all events, I’ll do him the honour of reading his letter.’
‘ “ Sin, ‘ “ Knowing the unfortunate, and on my part deeply deplored, prejudice you entertain towards ray profession, I apprehend some difficulty in obtaining an interview with you. ' I have, therefore, Jraken the precaution of providing myself with this letter in the event of your refusing in the first instance to see me. The importance of my errand, will, I hope, justify what must seem to you an unwarrantable intrusion. It is in my power, sir, to save you no less a sum than £30,000; and how this can be done I am ready to communicate to you at once, if you will only afford me
an opportunity of doing so in pri vate.
‘ “ I remain, sir, ‘ “ Tour obedient servant, ‘ “ A. F. Wareinee.” ’
‘ Spigot.’ ‘Yourworship,’ said Spigot, promptly reappearing. ‘ I may or may not see this gentleman. Bequest him to wait a little ; and in the meantime you may promote him from the doorstep to the library. I’ll ring when I want you.’ ‘ Yery good, your worship.’ ‘ I think I’ll see him,’ soliloquised the Mayor, as Spigot closed the door. ‘ If it’s an outrageous attempt at a hoax. —But I'm talking nonsense. He would never dare think of such a thing. Preposterous. I’ll see him. An enormous sum. Quite a fortune. What can it mean.’ Greed and curiosity together settled the question, and Mr Buddlecombe summoned Spigot. ‘ Spigot, show the windpipe-slitter
‘ Who, your worship.’ ‘ The professional brain-spaHerer,’ ‘I beg your pardon, hut I don’t quite ’ ‘ You never do quite. The military individual, of course. That’s the same thing,’ isn’t it.’ ‘ Certainly, your worship ; exactly the same thing.’ ‘ And look here, Spigot; intimate to him in the plainest of terms that I have only a very few minutes to spare. The dinner can be served when ready, and you can ring the dinner-bell with more than usual emphasis ; and if that has no effect you had better come in at intervals of two minutes to remind me that the dinner’s wailing.’ ‘ Your wishes shall be scrupulously attended to, your worship.’ (To he Continued.)
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Bibliographic details
South Canterbury Times, Issue 4988, 23 April 1889, Page 4
Word Count
1,199THE MAYOR'S DAUGHTER. South Canterbury Times, Issue 4988, 23 April 1889, Page 4
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