Authors: The Quincunx
By now Mr Clothier is sitting up straight in his chair and staring intently at the other gentleman. He is about to speak, but Mr Sancious holds up a hand: “Patience, please, my dear sir. Let us suppose that I encouraged this client to invest all her little capital.”
At this Mr Clothier sharply draws in his breath.
The attorney continues: “In, let us say, a promising project which, due to unforeseen circumstances, unfortunately failed. And that I got her, in an attempt to extricate herself from her difficulties, to sign a bill for five hundred pounds. And then suppose further that I learned that a very respectable and well-to-do gentleman — much like your good self — was one of those who wanted to find that person. Suppose further that I knew that she had in her possession a document and guessed that this gentleman wanted to obtain it. And then let us suppose that I learned that this gentleman was involved in a suit in which a large amount of property was at stake, and that the document was relevant to that. Now, supposing all that to be the case, would you have anything to say to me, Mr Clothier?”
“Does she have a child?” the old gentleman stammers.
“I am struck by the fact that that should be your first question. Your feelings do you credit, my dear sir. Indeed she does.”
At this the old gentleman gives a cry and rises to his feet as the glass falls from his hand.
After Sukey’s departure it necessarily followed that I was occasionally allowed to go out alone in the afternoon on those days when my mother was unable to accompany me. On one such occasion early in July, as I began to walk RELATIONS
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towards the village I noticed a stranger lounging against a tree by the Rose and Crab, An
“outcomeling” being a fairly unusual sight in Melthorpe, I took special note of him. He was of middling years and wore a wide-awake hat, a fine green great-coat, and hessian boots of a kind that I had rarely seen before. By his dress I would have taken him for a gentleman, but his lounging, idling manner suggested otherwise. He took no notice of me and I walked on.
Since it had been raining hard all morning, though the sun had come out as I left the house, the ways were muddy underfoot. As I passed Farmer Lubbenham’s Sixteen-acre between the Moat-piece and the Green, I heard the noise of a set of clappers and saw a boy tenting the crows. He wore a patched round frock and a blue cap — both drenched from the morning’s rain — and was shaking at intervals the three heavy wooden slabs which were attached by cords and the central one of which had a handle. It seemed to me to be very fine to be out alone in the fields all day. Enviously, I waved to him but he appeared not to notice me.
I walked on, looking at the green swathes of newly-growing corn and the hay-fields either already tedded or standing in their luxuriously-scented quiles. I walked to the top of Gallow-tree-hill and then back, making a full circuit of the Green. As I approached the Sixteen-acre again, the boy was standing near the hedge so that I now saw that it was Harry, Sukey’s brother.
I greeted him and he stared at me in a somewhat surly way through his clear blue eyes.
“Who’s that cove as follered you when you went past?” he asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Here he comes agin,” Harry answered and then began to shake the clappers furiously as he moved away.
I turned in surprise and saw that the stranger I had seen earlier was coming into sight behind me, a considerable way back and walking with a careless, slouching sort of gait. I walked on and he stayed behind me all the way up the High-street.
Now it came to me that if I were to call at the post-office-cum-general-store to see if the post had brought anything I would be marking a new stage in my shouldering of the responsibilities of the household. At first Mr Passant, the post-master, made some difficulties but at last he consented and to my surprise he handed me, in addition to a letter for my mother, one addressed to Bissett. My mother’s letter was in the hand of Mrs Fortisquince and I supposed that it contained an enclosure from Mr Sancious. Bissett’s letter had a seal — for this, of course, was before the time of envelopes — whose impression I could not make out. I walked homewards studying it and as I rounded the corner opposite the church, saw ahead of me two figures standing close together before the Rose and Crab. I recognised one of them as the stranger and the other was Bissett.
Immediately they separated, the stranger crossing the road and entering the church-yard, while Bissett came towards me.
“Who was that man, Mrs Bissett?” I asked.
“How should I know?” she replied curtly. “He only arst me to set him on the way to the Green.”
“I should think he would know that since I saw him there,” I said. Bissett seemed about to say something but I went on quickly: “Here’s a letter for you.”
She snatched it from me and stuffed it into her basket. “You’ve no business collecting the post,” she said. “Don’t never do it again, do you understand?”
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“I think that’s for my mother to say,” I said.
“We s’ll see what your mother says,” she answered and began to walk on saying: “I’ve my marketing to do now. Go straight home.”
After that injunction, of course, I made a circuit past our house and over the fields towards Mortsey-wood, getting my boots (whose cleaning now fell upon myself ) thoroughly muddy so that Bissett would know what I had done. When honour was satisfied, I went home and found my mother in the sitting-room. I gave the letter to her and when she opened it there was, indeed, a letter inside from Mr Sancious with only the customary brief covering note from Mrs Fortisquince. As my mother read I saw a growing horror on her face.
“What has happened?” I exclaimed.
She stared at me in terror: “We are ruined.”
“What? How can that be?”
For answer she repeated phrases from the letter: “ ‘The Company has defaulted on its mortgage and the bank has foreclosed. The Company has therefore gone into liquidation and the lease has been redeemed by the freeholder.’ ”
“But Mr Sancious said it was so safe. He said we could not lose our money!” I protested.
She began to weep and the letter fluttered from her hand to lie on the carpet. I picked it up and the characters swam before my eyes for a moment or two but one sentence stood out: “The house having broke for a sum far in excess of its assets, you are consequently liable, as a shareholder, for that amount of the outstanding debts to which your shareholding is proportionate, namely up to thirty shillings in the pound.” A cold chill seemed to clutch at my heart as I read these words. I continued: “There is also, of course, the bill whose term falls due within a few weeks. There can be no question of renewing it under the present circumstances and its redemption is therefore a matter of the utmost priority. To effect this your only course of action is to sell all that you own. If you have anything of value that could be sold you should do so in order to realize this sum wholly or in part. We can take it upon ourselves to sell at a very reasonable commission anything of this nature that you may possess.”
I folded the letter away in my pocket, for my mother, lying sobbing on the sopha, was in no state to hear the rest of it.
“How unlucky I have been!” she was sobbing.
I would have chosen another term, I reflected coldly as I looked down at her.
At that moment Bissett entered without knocking. She glanced at my mother and with a shake of her head directed at me went to her.
“What’s amiss, Mrs Mellamphy? Has the boy been unkind again?”
“There’s no need for you here, Bissett,” I said. “She’s had some bad news.”
“It’s ‘Mrs Bissett’ and I’ll judge whether or no I’m needed.”
And so I could do nothing as Bissett led my mother out of the room and up to her own chamber. When they had gone I took out the letter and read it again. Why had Mr Sancious asked if we had anything that could be sold when surely he knew that there was nothing? Nothing, that was, apart from that mysterious document of which the lawyer was surely unaware. Who was this man and how much did he know about us?
And what was his part in the disaster that had befallen us?
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When I came down to breakfast the next morning I found my mother already at the table. She was dark-eyed and pale of face.
“Did you sleep well?” I asked.
“Oh yes,” she said wistfully. “Mrs Bissett made me such a wonderful sleeping-draught that I went off immediately. And I had such marvellous dreams.”
When we had helped Bissett to clear away the breakfast things, we went into the drawing-room and sat together on the sopha. Without saying anything of my suspicions, I told her that I thought that Bissett should be kept from involvement in our problems as far as possible, and she said she agreed. Now we estimated what our property would be worth and reckoned it to be not less than three hundred and not more than five hundred pounds.
“Then with the hundred pounds left in the Consols,” I said, “we have more than enough to pay back the five hundred pounds.”
“But then we should have no money left at all!” my mother cried. “And how should we live now that we have nothing coming in?”
“I don’t know, Mamma, but from what Mr Sancious says, I believe we should pay off that bill or else our debts will increase.”
She was silent for a few moments and then said: “There is one last hope.”
“Do you mean, to sell that document?”
She shook her head in surprise but when I pressed her to tell me what in that case she did mean, she would say nothing more. However, she opened her escritoire and spent the rest of the morning composing a letter. In the afternoon we walked into the village and put it in the post-office.
It was about six o’clock the next evening and my mother and I were in the drawing-room when we heard the sound of a carriage pulling up outside. I looked out of window and saw just at the foot of the steps a gleaming phaeton drawn by two splendid beasts.
With a sense of added excitement I noticed that emblazoned on the side-pannel was the crest I remembered so well : the crab and the five roses. As I watched, a footman in magnificent livery who was standing on the back, swung himself to the ground and came up the steps. There followed the most tremendous hammering that’ I had ever heard.
My mother and I gazed at each other in terror. After a moment we heard Bissett hurrying from the back of the house past our door, and then the muffled sounds of an exchange in which we could not catch the words. Then I saw the magnificent being reappear as he descended the steps and then climbed back onto the carriage. The driver shook the reins and the vehicle moved quickly off.
I turned and saw that Bissett had come into the room and was holding out a letter:
“What do them Mumpseys want of you, Mrs Mellamphy?” she asked. “ ’Twas them for sure, for they’re the. only folks in this country as has Lunnun servants and carriages, as I knows on.”
“Thank you, Mrs Bissett,” my mother said, taking the letter and, catching my eye, she said no more.
Bissett waited for a moment and then :
“Well, I’ve plenty of work to do if nobody else has,” she said, and left the room shutting the door behind her rather fiercely.
Glancing nervously at me my mother opened the letter. “The hand is very difficult to read,” she said, peering at it closely. “Why, he will see me!” Then she bent forward again to decypher it: “Tomorrow,” she added and then looked up at me and said in surprise:
“And, Johnnie, he wishes you to accompany me.”
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I felt a surge of pride at being summoned in this way, but it was mingled with apprehension, too.
“Why?” I asked.
She looked away and at last said: “It is a good sign. It means that Sir Perceval is interested in your welfare.”
Why should he be? I demanded. What was the connexion between him and us? She would say no more, however, and I gave up asking. She allowed me to look at the letter (written in what — had it not been Sir Perceval’s hand — I would have called an illiterate scrawl) but its burden was as plain as her account of it.
That night I lay in bed thinking about my mother’s unhappiness. I had always believed that I had power over reality, that by exercising my will I could change things in the great outer world. It was a secret gift that I would never — indeed, could never —
use unless I was in desperate circumstances, but which was always latent within me. At some time I might find myself imprisoned, perhaps, in a dungeon, and then, late at night when my gaolers had gone to bed, I would call upon this mysterious power and by its agency bore a hole in the wall or pull apart the bars of my cell and so escape.
Now I lay in the darkness listening to the rustling of the trees and wondering whether to summon up this power and test its efficacy in this unforeseen situation in which what was wanted was not physical strength but money. After lengthy reflection, I decided that its time had not yet come and I would not risk offending and so perhaps losing it by calling upon it prematurely. Comforted by this decision, I drifted at last into sleep.
The next morning my mother and I, wearing our best clothes, set off through the village and up Gallow-tree-hill. It was a beautiful day with only a gentle breeze blowing, sending the fleecy clouds scudding across the blue sky. The distant hills melted into shapelessness like a faintly blue mist, and in the sloping park-land to our left, the trees swayed gently like thick green feathers. At the top of the hill, to my surprise, instead of following the turnpike-road towards Hougham village, we went up to the gates of the demesne from which the carriage had come those many years before that had so alarmed my mother. They now stood shut, but my mother boldly knocked on the window of the porter’s lodge in the shadow of the great gate-posts, and the man came out with an ill grace, wiping the back of his hand against his mouth, and opened one of the gates to admit us.
“This is more direct, Johnnie,” my mother explained; “and anyway it is the right way to come when you are making a call.”