He did not seem to be exactly at his ease. Mr. Haines had not offered him a chair. He seemed to think that he would like one. Indeed, he said as much.
"With your permission, madam, I will sit down."
"I would rather you did not."
He was about to act on his own suggestion when my words arrested him.
He seemed disconcerted, looking at me as if wondering what it was that I might mean. I went on, "Of course you are lying again?"
The man drew himself up with what he intended to be an air of dignity.
"Lying?--Again?--Madam! May I inquire what you mean?"
"Pray don"t put on that sort of air with me. I understand you very well, my man. You are too common a type not to be understood. Of course, you are lying again and of course I shall tell Mr. Haines so when he returns." He looked as if he felt that in exchanging Mr.
Haines" society for mine he had made a change for the worse. "Or, rather, I shall tell Mr. Haines unless you give me satisfactory answers to the questions I am about to put to you."
"I a.s.sure you, madam, that, as a gentleman----"
"Stop! Confine yourself to answering my questions. On your answers will depend whether or not I shall keep silence. What is your name?"
CHAPTER XXVI.
ANNOUNCED!
The man twiddled his hat round and round between his hands, as if he sought inspiration from its brim. I sat and watched him. He was a poor kind of scamp. He was so easily nonplussed.
"My name, madam? Yes." He struck himself with the palm of his hand upon his chest, affably, as it were. "My name is Trevannion--Stewart Trevannion."
"Have you ever heard of Mr. Reginald Townsend?"
Mr. Trevannion went all of a heap. He looked at me like a startled rabbit. He turned, as if to obey an impulse which suggested that he should make a rush from the room. But he thought better of it. Instead, he put his hand up to his chin, appearing, all at once, to be plunged into a sea of contemplation.
"Townsend? Townsend? No! I don"t seem to remember the name." He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. He saw that it would not do. "Stay.
I had a client of the name of Townsend--he was a merchant in the West Indies--but his name was John."
"You won"t get that fifty pounds."
Again he drew himself up, with an attempt at that air of dignity which he seemed so anxious to a.s.sume.
"I haven"t the honour, madam, of being acquainted with your name--excuse me, you must permit me to conclude--but I have to a.s.sure you that you appear to altogether misunderstand my character."
After all, Mr. Trevannion was amusing. I laughed at him.
"I should be sorry to do that. In proof of it, if you could manage to tell the truth, just once in a way, should it not be too great a strain upon your const.i.tution, I shall be happy to add twenty guineas of my own to Mr. Haines"s fifty."
He appeared to be more startled than ever. This time his amazement seemed to be of a pleasurable kind.
"How much?"
"Twenty guineas."
"Honour?"
"Straight."
He adjusted his coat upon his shoulders.
"I"ll do it. Hanged if I won"t. Why shouldn"t I? I"m not afraid of him!
He"s nothing to me! What is it that you desire to know, madam--for your twenty guineas?"
"Have you heard of Mr. Reginald Townsend?"
"I have."
"I thought you had. What relation is he to you?"
"Relation?" He sought for inspiration from the ceiling. "Cousin."
"Cousin? I see. You"re sure he"s not your father?"
"Father? No, certainly not! Absolutely not! There"s not the slightest ground for any presumption of the kind."
"You won"t get the twenty guineas."
"Madam!"
"Lied again."
"I will be candid with you, madam. I will tell you the truth. Why should I conceal it?" Mr. Trevannion shot his cuffs. They were a trifle soiled. "The fact is that, for reasons of his own--what they are I have not the slightest notion! I think it possible that they may not be wholly to his credit! Mr. Reginald Townsend does not appear anxious to advertise the particular degree of consanguinity which binds us to each other--or, rather, which ought to bind us to each other--because, as a matter of fact, so far as he is concerned, with me affection never dies! I never can forget that the same heart nourished us both!--the binding is merely theoretical I"m his brother--his elder brother--and, as such, qualified to take my place beside him in all the salons of the land."
He looked his brother. I had guessed he was a sort of Corsican brother from the first. He was like a caricature--all alive, oh!--of my friend the gentleman; reminding me of nothing so much as a picture I once saw in "Ca.s.sell"s Popular Educator." It was called "The Child: What shall become of Him?" On the top line they showed you portraits of the child at various periods of his life, as he advanced towards honoured age.
While, on the bottom line, were portraits of the child, also at various periods of his life, as he advanced towards the other kind of age. Mr.
Trevannion recalled the portraits of the child advanced towards the other kind of age.
While he still continued in the pose which he had done his best to strike, and before either of us had spoken again, Mr. Haines came in.
Mr. Haines made short work of this brother whose affection did not die.
He counted nine five-pound notes and five separate sovereigns on the table.
"There are fifty pounds. You mark it?"
"I certainly do observe that there appear to be fifty pounds."
"Appear to be! There are!"
"Mr. Haines raised his voice to a roar, which made Mr. Trevannion jump.