TALES AND SKETCHES.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 6496, 27 May 1899, Page 1

TALES AND SKETCHES.

INDENTURE_D_FOR LIFE. (By CHARLES K. MOORE.) [All Rights Reserved.] CHAPTER I. " Your good health !" was cried in a full bass voic«. . • "Your very good health, my dear sir, followed in shrill high tones. Tom Robe, as he bowed in response, thought that never before had his health been drunk by such a queer supper party. The oAvner of die big voice was Mr Dallas, a heavily-fleshed man, with pendulous cheeks and a slobbering tongue — a coarse, uneducated"' man; who . looked back on sixty years of animal life with lip-smack-ing self-satisfaction; a vulgar, purse-proud man, full of greed and low cunning, and cruelty. By Ms side was Mr Sharpe, who was tall, thin, ferret-eyed,' nimble-torigued, and quick-witted. As for Tom Robe, he had a pleasant face, a pair of broad shoulders, and an ingenuous : manner, and was altogether a Ayholesome looking young fellow. Ho had lately been called to the Utter Bar. Strange to say, he had; a sneaking liking for the gross and underbred person at the top of the table, and Mr Dallas, on his part, thought there was no one in the world like his nephew, Tern Robe. Had Tom been older and seen, more of the world' he had judged more truly and thought less charitably, but he did not know that, alone of all the world, he received kindly words and indulgent treatment from Mr Dallas. " What do you think of the lad, Sharpe?" asked Mr Dallas. "Does me credit?" "He has cost you a lot of money," was Sharpe's non-committal answer. ! Mr. Dallas purpled, for his heart was tied round with his purse-strings, and he did not like to be reminded of expenditure. -..-. j " What's that to you ?" ho blustered. " It's my money. I can do with it wßat I like, and in time Tom will get all that is left -of I it. I can pay my debts ; aye, and I can buy j anything I want, and that's more than some people can do, Sharped" Ho SAvallowed a glass of rich old port at a gulp. Sharpe drank more' slowly than his em-; ployer— he was Mr Dallas' clerk" and man of. all work— and he kept sip, sipping,**allowipg no drop of wine to pass his palate without paying its full toll of flavour. He turned his keen eyes on Mi- Dallas and again maliciously touched the raw spot. " The last cheque," he said, " was for—" "Hold, your tongue," shouted Mr Dallas, and the globes of the chandelier rang to his loud tones. " Look here, Sharpe, I said just now I could buy anything I wanted. Tell Tom about that swell of a Guardsman who .couldn't. Listen to the story, Tom; it's a good joke^hpw I kept that overbearing proud officer under my thumb ' and screwed and screwed and screwed . arid screwed him. Didn't. l, Sharpe?" "You did." . "He used to come swaggering over me with his aristocratic ' airs and graces and SAvear at me for a flinty-hearted old miser. But I took all that out of him. Didn't I, Sharpe." "You -did." - -"*'"•" ■ \. ' ' : "Tell us about it, Sharpe, the way you do Avhen we are alone. Look here, Tom, this is the first time the story has bsen: told to a third party. Fire away, Sharpe." " You see it was this way, .Mr Robe," said Sharpe, settling down as to a familiar task; "there was an officer of the Guards — " - " Of the Guards," chuckled Mr Dallas. " Who bore, one,. o£ the highest and most honourable names to be found in \Debrett.' " "Highest and most honourable names," repeated Mr Dallas. All through the narrative he murmured the phrases Avhich struck his fancy as if he' Avere making responses at church, and Avhenever Sharpe omitted any words to which he had been accustomed, Mr Dallas interrupted and insisted on the sentence being recast so that they might be brought in. "This officer wanted money," continued Sharpe. "They all do, and they always do, and generally they want it badly. He came to Mr Dallas and got the money— ori security ; but the security was bad, and . there was no end of a rumpus, the pert young sprig cutting up very rough, as if he was the injured person. Mr Dallas put in an execution in some rooms the, puppy rented in the Albany, and sold him up, every stick. After a little the officer remembered that there had been some letters in a writing desk " • . .' " "Gold mounted, gold fittings, arms and initials engraved," commented Mr Dallas. " And he Avanted the letters back ; but he did not get them." ■■'■'. There was a pause, and, for the life of him, Tom couiu not help expressing the opinion which Sharpe asked for by both eye and manner. ' ' "But the letters could not bs retained?" "Of course not, but they Avere. You see, this officer of the Guards, this curled darling, this pet of the West End, could not make a noise, because the letters compromised a lady of title." ,• It Avas plain to Tom that both the moneylender and his clerk viewed this piece of sbarp practice with, great admiration. "In fact the letters' Avere written by the lady of title> and Avould have ruined her had ; they been made public. So Mr Dallas very naturally put a high price upon them, a very high price, for a great lady's reputation •was at stake. Of course the officer hadn't any "Of the Guards," protested Mr Dallas: " You are always forgetting 'of the Guards.' " "Well, well; the officer of the Guards hadn't any money, and Avas unable to borrow any money, and couldn't work for any money — and what was he to do ? We put on the screw tight, but it was precious littlla we got out of him. He sold his commission — in the Guards — and he went down, and doAvn, until in the long run what do you think this noble youth became ? Guess — a clerk to Mr Dallas. Ah, there was a fall for you ; a red-coated, bear-skinned officer of the Guards became a money-lender's clerk. And ho dared not complain or run away, for we had the letters and a woman's reputation in our hands, and we made him work hard. We gave him all the dirtiest work to do, the collecting of th*e smallest rents of the smallest houses in the worst localities ; we made him the man in possession • we sent him to dun. the most insultincr 'of our creditors. There wasn't much wax on his moustache or scent on his handkerchief in those days. Ho ought to have cleared out ; but no, in his high and mighty fashion he declared t&at he svouiid • stand between a Avoman and disgrace.' The idiot ! to ruin himself for a woman." ■ Leaning his elboAVs on tbe table and his .chin on his hand, Sharpe Avent on : — "But the besb is to come. Years Avent past, and this dainty, kid-gloved Bond j Street lounger began to like Ims Avork, and after more years gloated in it. Can you imagine it ? I see you can't; but it Avas ; so. Know this, Mr Robe, there's a devilish j pleasure in man-hunting — devilish, but delicious." - --" Ah, Sharpe," interrupted Mr Dallas, talcing a long breath, " there is, there is." "He would spend days, and weeks and months looking for a man, and he never felt weariness or hunger or thirst when he was on the scent." "What a man he was !" cried Mr Dallas Jn admiration. . ; ' . ■ " When he caught up with a man he wound (his toils round and round him, and there was no escape. Now, Mr Robe, can you picture to yourself a bright young Guardsman becoming a thing like that — a thing to be cursed and spat upon ? "-. :

Tom was aware that his uncle lent money, but this revelation of the under side of the trade was staggering. Controlling himself Avith difficulty he managed to ask, "Did the officer get back the letters? What became of him?" "He never got back the letters, and the officer— of the Guards— went .below. A strange mixture he Avas, tha.fc man. He worked hard for thirty years to keep a Avoman's character unsmirehed, and yet himself rolled in the kennel and sank lower than the dregs of the stews. To be at once so honourable to a Avoman and so faithless to himself— f/trange, wasn't it? It's usually the other way about." It was well for Tom that the two old men got ir/to an argument about some detail of the story, for he was full of indignation and hot words were upon his lips. But the enforced pause happily prevented him saying vrhat might have led «to a quarrel. He was roused out of a painful reverie by Mr Dallas crying: " Now then, , Sharpe, clear out. I want to talk to Tom." And as Sharpe av,~,s slowly finishing his glass of wine Mr Dallas took him by the shoulders as if to put him to the door. This made Sharpe swallow the rent of his wine quickly to .save it from being spilled, and then Mr .•Dallas broke into a harsh laugh. - "Do you think I don't knoAV why you did that?" snarled Sharpe. "It Avas to keep me from relishing my wine properly. You have broken your bargain.'". " No, I haven't. 'You've had your four glasses." ' "Then Are will make a new bargain — four glasses, of . port and time to drink them in. I won't haA'e my fourth glass hurried over my throat like that. I want; to taste the whole of it — svery drop of it." ■•. ■■:•■• ■: - : : CHAPTER n. When Sharpe left, and .they were alone, ■Mr Dallas sa : d to Tom: . "I suppose that talk about a bargain has made you curious. Well, I hire that man .to como here "—Tom nodded — " ah, but not as a clerk, as a companion, and the bargain is that I pay him four glasses of wide for his talk. I have- brains, but they aro business brains, arid I haven't much education, and I don't care to .read, so 1 buy good talk and company from Sharps, 'anil. .the price : is four glasses of Avine par night. He's cheap at the money, my . uoy. .When you come /into your kingdom, ,Tom— oh, yes, i'knoAV you hope that that may be a long lime 'yet ; tliat I am riot an old man, and so on— l say, Avlien you come into your kingdom buy a 'poor, man like. Sharpe, Avho has been at a University and has read a lot. He's a capital in\T9lment. You needn't look angry, Torn ; the man with money buys the man of education all the time ; of course he does, when bnarpe first came here I gave him gin. He drinks gin when he is spending his oAvn money, and why shouldn't he drink gin here: But he struck and. Avould only give me gin talk; said he couldn't grve gentlemanly talk Avitlibut port, -and I had to agree to port, confound him. K>ep a scholar, Tom; a scholar Avho can talk/ ' Tom screwed up his courage and began : " There's something I want to speak about, uncle' You have done everything for me, and I Hope I am not ungrateful, but——. Hang it all, I can't say it — I do not like. Well, it is this— won't you give those letters back to the lady? You -will not trade on them any more, will j you? And that officer of the Guards ". ''Whew!" cried Mr Dallas,' gazing in astonishment at his nephew. "What's i come over you? I never asked you to worry yourself about ■ my business; indeed, I have always wanted you to keep clear of it* .". . " Oh, but uncle, it is terrible to think of tAvo people Avho have been in love with one another "Stuff end nonsense," said Mr Dallas, looking curiously and with some amazement at Tom's crimson face. "Why, that's a fairy tale. Haven't I just bsen telling you that I buy Sharpe to talk to me, reel o5 stories,* like Avhat's his name in the 'Arabian Nights.'" Tom looked doubtful, and Mr Dallas laughed uneasily. "lhat comes of being kind-hearted, Tom ; -getting into a state of mind over a fairy tale., \»Lv, you'll be asking me to raise Sharpe's wage's next, and give .him a fifth glass ;of Avine." " BuS what I have been thinking of is that money is not everything, and—" "Exactly. 1 have heard that remark before from those who haven't any money afld from the parsons. But money is pretty 'nrarlv everything to a man- — and don't you "forget 'it. It can't keep you from dying, it's true, but it can't keep you alive when, without it, you Avouid have.- died. It. can buy beauty, honours and titles, horses, chrriagas and servants ; place, nower and dominion ; food, drink and clothing. Are these things nothing-? Take it from me, my boy, they are pretty nearly everything. And Tom/ here his hard voice . softened, and in kindly fashion he Taid' iiis band on the young roan's shoulder, "it has brought me schools and colleges and good homes for the boy, avlio is my true son." . - . "Yes, uncle," replied Tom, but you .know I' could not bear to take help from you if* -I "thought " "I knoAV — I krioAA'— but you need not think these >, things. I lend money to those who want ■ money, and I can ■ tell you the borrowers are worse men than the lender." Tom " SAvithered," as the Scotch say, and after a pause -he said: "And those letters?" " Fairy tale letters." I "Then you never had them?" "Why, ithev never existed, I tell you." "It Avas a terrible tale," said Tom, with a sigh of relief. "It made me shudder." "That's where Sharpe scores, you see. You can't get sensations like that out of reading a story, but have some one tell it you by Avord of mouth, and it makes you ' grew ' all , over." "Sharpe was so realistic." "He's a fine -actor. spoiled is '. Sharpe," and Mr Dallas grinned. •CHAPTER 111. One morning, while Tom was sitting in his Temple Chambers over a late breakfast, he Avas surprised by a visit from a dapper little man with an air of important business Avrit large all over him. "A brief," thought-. Tom with delight, arid he became unpleasantly conscious of his gay dressing-gown, and 'the white' table-cloth littered Avith the remains of his meal. Certainly the room looked most unlaAvyerlike. It Avas session time, too, and he wished he had been caught reading some law book or at least "The Times " instead of that condemning yellow-boarded novel. "I begr pardon for intruding," said the man.. "My name is Craig, and I come on behalf of Mr Dallas." "Oh," replied Tom, relieved yet disappointed ; it Avas only a message, not a brief. "Pray take a seat." "It has not been a case. of early to bed J and early to rise." remarked Craig, Avagginghis head and looking at the table.. "We lawyers have sometimes to. keep late hours," and then catching a smile pri Craig's face, Tom added Avith a laugh : "Fact is, I was at a call dinner, and I am afraid we kept it up rather late." " Or rather early, Avas it* nob?" j " Well, it was after two." "In that case you will have no difficulty in proving Avhere you Avere." "I beg your pardon!"' cried Tom, sit^ ting up and speaking sharply. ' ' "Oh, that's' all right. You see lam a detecfive " "What?" " Just so. . It isn't in the papers, and

I see you have not- heard of it, I urn sorry to kve to inform you that your! uncle, Mr Dallas, Avas murdered somewhere between twelve and two tins morning." -Murdered!". The blood left Tom's cheeks, and he stared at Craig. The dc-tective told his stoiy quickly and succinctly. What ho wanted was to get information, not to give it. " This morning, at. a quarter to two or thereabouts, policeman on the beat in Thistledown ±toad, Clapham, found the street doar of •Mr Dalias's bouse standing open. Rang the bell and roused out of her bed the old woman, name of Sarah Mundy, who docs for Air Dallas. (She couldn't tell how the door came to beopen. -There .was a light in the front floor back window. Policeman X45 suggested that the woman should go see 11 her master knew anything about it. Woman went upstairs. Screamed for help. X45 ran up. Iv a room furnished like an office with desk, safe and .ledgers, found Mr; Dallas lying on the floor. Summoned assistance, surgeon, so on. Mr Dallas been killed by a single blow, inflicted probably by a heavy ruler. ■ Give us- any clue?" Tom shc'ok his head. ' Pie could not think clearly. His wits were all astray. i "liiink. Know anybody who had a quarI rei with Mr Dallas '! Say about money ? " Tom again shook his head and said — " His clerk, Sharpe, knows alll-Mr Dalias's business. He would be the best man to go to." v " Seen him. He's of little assistance. A perfect madman he is, raving about losing his situation. You won't keep on the business, he says." " He's right there." ; "Talks of nothing but his situation. You might look him up and see if you can make anything cut of him. I can't." j .'Com sat thinking for a little and then said — : " 01 course, I will give a reward for the discovery of the murderer." Craig bowed. " Tha amount will be " and he scribbled some .figures on a piece of paper and threw it ovui- the labie. Craig's eyes glistened as he saw the sum. " I'll do everything that mortal man can do. But the Scotland Yard people swallow up so much of these rewards." " Scotland Yard won't kno.w anything about it," said Tom. Ho had not attended the. Central Criminal for nothing.

CHAPTER IV. It was little that Tom Robe couß^ make out of Sharpe. Tlie old man Avas so taken up with anxieties as to his situation that, he had no thoughts for anything else. "Make up a statement of the moneylending business, with tne details in every case," ordered Tom. < "And the houses — the little houses that bring in such big returns ? " "1 shalU sell them." " But other people will buy them and get the enormous profits," whimpered Sharpe. "They' are Avelcome to OAvn the houses in the slums. If tbe houses were all in one Mock, instead of scattered here' anl there, I would pull them do\?n. Unfortunately, I cannot do that, but at least I shall keep my hands clean.' " Then there Avill be nothing for me to do. Oh, Mr Robe, you won't turn an olid servant adrift ? " " Look here, Sharpe. In the money-lend-ing business, Avhefever there be anything approaching extortionate usury, I want to make restitution ; and I shall employ you to help me there ; for you know all the. circumstances." " You want to pay back money ! " screamed Sharpe. "Madness ! I won't help you, and you can do it without me." " Than take your leave at once." " My situation lost — the little houses sold — the connection thrown to the dogs ! Think it over, Mr Robe !" He turned to Tom and pleaded Avith him with tears in his eyes. "Don't do that. I ca.n let you have ten times the interest for your money you can get anywhere else. You need never appear in the business. Ten times! Twenty times the interest!" . ">Vnd if it Avere a hundred; times the interest I could not finger it. If you Avon't help me you must go." "My situation! The connection!" and Sharpe wrung his hands. CHAPTER V. ' "Well, Craig ; anything new?" asked Tom a morning or two afterwards. " Only hunting ghosts," replied Craig disconsolately. "Dear me," remarked Tom. By this time he kneAV Craig's, moods, that he was usually loav in the spirits in the forenoon, amd only heartened up as the day advanced. "Is jt too early?" he added, as he unlocked the sideboard door. "Yes, sun not over the yardarm." " Hang the yardarm. Help yourself and there's soda." Craig filled out two fingers of Avhisky and tasted it critically and approvingly. Tom kneAV that the detective Avould now become more communicative, and he inquired— " Well ; am I to sign that cheqpe?" "Hum.. Would like to finger it. But Scotland Yard will step iv. Take most of it and give it to men av!io have done little or nothing. Noav, if I do the Avork don'\ see Avhy others should get the pay." " Come, this looks better. You Avould not be thinking about hoAV theireward is to be paid unless you Avere hopeful of earning it. As I hinted' to you, I'll make any arrangement you like, and it need not be paid by a cheque — a cheque tells tales." "Good. Well, as I^Avas saying, I am hunting, ghosts." "Unprofitable business." " That's as maybe. This ghost is a pretty substantial one, or I am far mistaken.'" " Out with it, Craig." " There's a Miss Pattison lives next door to Mr Dalias's house. She saAV a ghost the other night. In the back garden. Maiden lady and old," so thought it Avas nerves. Wretched tiling the nerves Avhen there's been a murder next door. HoAvever, best to be certain. So black threaded the garden." " Blackleaded the garden." "No, no; black threaded. Stretched black thread across tbe walks and liawn, you know. About a. foot from the ground. This morning, found the threads %ad been broken. Garden ladder been shifted, too. Something or somebody been in tue back garden. Hey ? " '' " Now I see ; and you propose ? " "To watch to-night." "I'll Avatch with you." ■ * . " Right. _Be at the villa at ten." _

CHAPTER VI. At ten , o'clock, Craig and Tom entered the deserted villb, — for Sarah Mundy had roundly refused to stay in the place — and took -up their quarters in the office on the first floor back. It Avas a dreary time, sitting there in the darkness. " I'm not a nervous party like the maiden lady next door," growled Craig in guarded tones; "but it's shivery; that's Avhat it is. Seen a feAV queer things this room has. The murder is the last, but, perhaps, pot the worst of them. Murders, some of them, to all intents and purposes. Many a poor wretch been squeezed dry here. .Like an orange. Lots of bills renewed here. And then that rug — " '.-• .."-. " Stop, Craig, or you'll make me sick. Here's some old port. Try it." But Mr Dalias's port, however it might

cheer Craig, brought no comfort to Tom. 1 It only heated his imagination; '-.and made him. evolve figures out of the deep shadoAvs. Midnight avos long past, and Tom Aras Avoridering . lioav long they would have to wait before Clapham church*' clock. rang out tha hour of one, Avhen a light sound on the gravel made both men start, and instinctiveily they squeezed each 6 tier's hands.' A' minute Jater a head a?id shoulders appeared dimly outlined outside the wiridchvy;, and, after a pause, the lower sash Avas softly raised. Slowly and Avith great caution a' man stepped over. the silll. and when ; he : reached the fiodr Tom and Craig flung themselves upon him. But he made.no resistance/ and in, a trice Graig had Mm securely handcuffed. Tom then lit the gas, and to his.astonishment found that the Avould-be bui'glar.was Sharpe. The Avretched man flung- himself iat Tom's feet. , ■ . - i " Oh, Mr Robe, I didn't mean to do it [—I didn't, indeed. It was just one blow— jusfc one." " . ' • , | "Here, stop that!" cried Graig. "Take care Avhat you are saying."; , ; , : „ ; )"W6 had fought beftn-e, and he always got the best of it. For God's sake, . don't take me near that rug!" he screamed, as Craig tried to raise him to his feet;; "Now, I must Avarn you," said: Craig. "Whatever you say will be used' 'against you, a.nd you .had better .-keep a ■ close mouth." ■■■'■■■• ■• - : "It's no good, Mr Craig; no good. "I' am guilty. But, I didn't mean to do it. Why should I murder hirii? I knew l that if Mr Dallas died I should lose my situS,-' tion. And where would- I get another' situation? It was the old quarrel/ Mr Robe, about — you knoAV whait : it Was 1 about." i ' ; — ■'''■-'■'■' iV "About what?" •' : : ■ "The letters — the lady's letters." 1 ;t "Good heavens!" cried Tom; remembering the way in which Sharpe had -told the story of his oavti degradation^ ' " You' cannot ba that officer of the Guards?" ' " "But I nm. He made me tell the^story j hundreds of times — curse him. Mr febbe;'' for pity's sake, destroy those letters ! Think' of Avhafc I have paid for them in body and in soul. And there is blood up on^ them ' now — Mrs blood. Don't spare me; but spare the woman. ' The letters are ' '"there, 'j fn that safo. I" have been here night- lafteVl night; here, mind you, Avhere it was ■'done, trying to pick i;lie lock. You dori't krioAV what I have suffered, comin? to this ' room. 'j I tried hundreds of keys, but I know that' i I have, got the nropar key now.' To' be' caught jusfc Avhen I had a key — after thirty years — and the letters behind that 1 door! Try the key." " This is a bit irregular, Mr Robe," said Craig. "Never mind; I shall consider all that, you .know, in the cheque. '.; Let us get to the bottom 'of theibusiness' at once." Craig shrugged his shoulders. Th 6 false key Avas taken from Sharpe's pocket, and,' after repeated trials; the door Avas opened. Sharpe had been crouching in the corner of the room farthest from the nig, but when the safe door yielded he sprang forAvard. ' ■ ' r "Stop, my man, stop!" arid , Craig laid ■his hand on Sharpe's breast. ' : "That's the packet — there—on the top shelf — addressed to. me," cried Sharpe, eagerly. Tom took the packet. It Avas marked, " Sharpe's Indentures." " He broke the seal and took out a single sheet of foolscap. "■No letters!" gasped Sharpe. " Only this paper, in Mr Dallis' handwriting. Let us hear Avhat it says," and Tom read — "'On 21st July, 1854, I took possession of Captain Sharpe's chambers in the Albany, and sold all they contained. In a Avritingdesk I found a large number of letters, and some of them were love letters. I burned them all.' Sharpe fell back into Craig's amis, and Tom continued— ' * "'Captain Sharpe came to me some time afterwards and demanded the letters. Of course I did no£ tell him they were destroyed. I asked a large price for their return. All that has happened during these years since then is knoAvn to Captain Sharpe. I need not refresh his memory. 'He has been a fool, and he thought me a fool. He ought to have knoAvn that if I possessed the letters the lady Avould also haA'e had to pay for my silence. I now give Captain Sharpe his freedom, and assure him that the reputation of Ms lady love is safe. He Avill be astonished to learn, for the first time, .that it was never in danger. I hereby cancel his indentures. — John Dallas.' " Sharpe's face* had becoriie horribly dis L torted during the reading, and when it was fiuished he yelled — \ "The villain! I have been his slaA r e for thirty years — I have sold myself to the deAal, — I have lost my soul — and all for nothingnothing. Lost! lost!" . He flung his arms Avildly into the air, and fell heavily on the rug. ' Tom and Craig loosened his noiifchie arid shirt, flung Avater on his face, and poured brandy down his throat, but all to no avail. Tom at last rose to his feet, and with a scared face, and in a broken voice said— " Lost ! Yes ; that's the Avord. Lost !"