Red Money - Fergus Hume (warren buffett book recommendations TXT) 📗

His Face And

Then Nodded Cheerily.

 

"Duveleste Rye!" Was Her Final Greeting,  And She Disappeared Swiftly,

But The Young Man Did Not Know That The Romany Farewell Meant,  "God

Bless You!"

Chapter 20 (The Destined End) Pg 188

 

As Might Have Been Anticipated,  Lord Garvington Was In Anything But A

Happy Frame Of Mind. He Left Silver In Almost A Fainting Condition,  And

Returned To The Manor Feeling Very Sick Himself. The Two Cowardly Little

Men Had Not The Necessary Pluck Of Conspirators,  And Now That There

Seemed To Be A Very Good Chance That Their Nefarious Doings Would Be

Made Public They Were Both In Deadly Fear Of The Consequences. Silver

Was In The Worst Plight,  Since He Was Well Aware That The Law Would

Consider Him To Be An Accessory After The Fact,  And That,  Although His

Neck Was Not In Danger,  His Liberty Assuredly Was. He Was So Stunned By

The Storm Which Had Broken So Unexpectedly Over His Head,  That He Had

Not Even The Sense To Run Away. All Manly Grit--What He Possessed Of

It--Had Been Knocked Out Of Him,  And He Could Only Whimper Over The Fire

While Waiting For Lambert To Act.

 

Garvington Was Not Quite So Downhearted,  As He Knew That His Cousin Was

Anxious To Consider The Fair Fame Of The Family. Thinking Thus,  He Felt

A Trifle Reassured,  For The Forged Letter Could Not Be Made Public

Without A Slur Being Cast On The Name. Then,  Again,  Garvington Knew That

He Was Innocent Of Designing Pine's Death,  And That,  Even If Lambert Did

Inform The Police,  He Could Not Be Arrested. It Is Only Just To Say That

Had The Little Man Known Of Miss Greeby's Intention To Murder The

Millionaire,  He Would Never Have Written The Letter Which Lured The Man

To His Doom. And For Two Reasons: In The First Place He Was Too Cowardly

To Risk His Neck; And In The Second Pine Was Of More Value To Him Alive

Than Dead. Comforting Himself With This Reflection,  He Managed To

Maintain A Fairly Calm Demeanor Before His Wife.

 

But On This Night Lady Garvington Was Particularly Exasperating,  For She

Constantly Asked Questions Which The Husband Did Not Feel Inclined To

Answer. Having Heard That Lambert Was In The Village,  She Wished To Know

Why He Had Not Been Asked To Stay At The Manor,  And Defended The Young

Man When Garvington Pointed Out That An Iniquitous Person Who Had Robbed

Agnes Of Two Millions Could Not Be Tolerated By The Man--Garvington

Meant Himself--He Had Wronged. Then Jane Inquired Why Lambert Had

Brought Chaldea To The House,  And What Had Passed In The Library,  But

Received No Answer,  Save A Growl. Finally She Insisted That Freddy Had

Lost His Appetite,  Which Was Perfectly True.

 

"And I Thought You Liked That Way Of Dressing A Fish So Much,  Dear," Was

Her Wail. "I Never Seem To Quite Hit Your Taste."

Chapter 20 (The Destined End) Pg 189

 

"Oh,  Bother: Leave Me Alone,  Jane. I'm Worried."

 

"I Know You Are,  For You Have Eaten So Little. What Is The Matter?"

 

"Everything's The Matter,  Confound Your Inquisitiveness. Hasn't Agnes

Lost All Her Money Because Of This Selfish Marriage With Noel,  Hang Him?

How The Dickens Do You Expect Us To Carry On Unless We Borrow?"

 

"Can't You Get Some Money From The Person Who Now Inherits?"

 

"Jarwin Won't Tell Me The Name."

 

"But I Know Who It Is," Said Lady Garvington Triumphantly. "One Of The

Servants Who Went To The Gypsy Camp This Afternoon Told My Maid,  And My

Maid Told Me. The Gypsies Are Greatly Excited,  And No Wonder."

 

Freddy Stared At Her. "Excited,  What About?"

 

"Why,  About The Money,  Dear. Don't You Know?"

 

"No,  I Don't!" Shouted Freddy,  Breaking A Glass In His Irritation. "What

Is It? Bother You,  Jane. Don't Keep Me Hanging On In Suspense."

 

"I'm Sure I Never Do,  Freddy,  Dear. It's Hubert's Money Which Has Gone

To His Mother."

 

Garvington Jumped Up. "Who--Who--Who Is His Mother?" He Demanded,

Furiously.

 

"That Dear Old Gentilla Stanley."

 

"What! What! What!"

 

"Oh,  Freddy," Said His Wife Plaintively. "You Make My Head Ache. Yes,

It's Quite True. Celestine Had It From William The Footman. Fancy,

Gentilla Having All That Money. How Lucky She Is."

 

"Oh,  Damn Her; Damn Her," Growled Garvington,  Breaking Another Glass.

 

"Why,  Dear. I'm Sure She's Going To Make Good Use Of The Money. She

Says--So William Told Celestine--That She Would Give A Million To Learn

For Certain Who Murdered Poor Hubert."

 

"Would She? Would She? Would She?" Garvington's Gooseberry Eyes Nearly

Dropped Out Of His Head,  And He Babbled,  And Burbled,  And Choked,  And

Spluttered,  Until His Wife Was Quite Alarmed.

 

"Freddy,  You Always Eat Too Fast. Go And Lie Down,  Dear."

 

"Yes," Said Garvington,  Rapidly Making Up His Mind To Adopt A Certain

Course About Which He Wished His Wife To Know Nothing. "I'll Lie Down,

Jane."

Chapter 20 (The Destined End) Pg 190

"And Don't Take Any More Wine," Warned Jane,  As She Drifted Out Of The

Dining-Room. "You Are Quite Red As It Is,  Dear."

 

But Freddy Did Not Take This Advice,  But Drank Glass After Glass Until

He Became Pot-Valiant. He Needed Courage,  As He Intended To Go All By

Himself To The Lonely Abbot's Wood Cottage And Interview Silver. It

Occurred To Freddy That If He Could Induce The Secretary To Give Up Miss

Greeby To Justice,  Mother Cockleshell,  Out Of Gratitude,  Might Surrender

To Him The Sum Of One Million Pounds. Of Course,  The Old Hag Might Have

Been Talking All Round The Shop,  And Her Offer Might Be Bluff,  But It

Was Worth Taking Into Consideration. Garvington,  Thinking That There Was

No Time To Lose,  Since His Cousin Might Be Beforehand In Denouncing The

Guilty Woman,  Hurried On His Fur Overcoat,  And After Leaving A Lying

Statement With The Butler That He Had Gone To Bed,  He Went Out By The

Useful Blue Door. In A Few Minutes He Was Trotting Along The Well-Known

Path Making Up His Mind What To Say To Silver. The Interview Did Not

Promise To Be An Easy One.

 

"I Wish I Could Do Without Him," Thought The Treacherous Little

Scoundrel As He Left His Own Property And Struck Across The Waste Ground

Beyond The Park Wall. "But I Can't,  Dash It All,  Since He's The Only

Person Who Saw The Crime Actually Committed. 'Course He'll Get Jailed As

An Accessory-After-The-Fact: But When He Comes Out I'll Give Him A

Thousand Or So If The Old Woman Parts. At All Events,  I'll See What

Silver Is Prepared To Do,  And Then I'll Call On Old Cockleshell And Make

Things Right With Her. Hang It," Freddy Had A Qualmish Feeling. "The

Exposure Won't Be Pleasant For Me Over That Unlucky Letter,  But If I Can

Snaffle A Million,  It's Worth It. Curse The Honor Of The Family,  I've

Got To Look After Myself Somehow. Ho! Ho!" He Chuckled As He Remembered

His Cousin. "What A Sell For Noel When He Finds That I've Taken The Wind

Out Of His Sails. Serve Him Jolly Well Right."

 

In This Way Garvington Kept Up His Spirits During The Walk,  And Felt

Entirely Cheerful And Virtuous By The Time He Reached The Cottage. In

The Thin,  Cold Moonlight,  The Wintry Wood Looked Spectral And Wan. The

Sight Of The Frowning Monoliths,  The Gaunt,  Frozen Trees And The

Snow-Powdered Earth,  Made The Luxurious Little Man Shiver. Also The

Anticipated Conversation Rather Daunted Him,  Although He Decided That

After All Silver Was But A Feeble Creature Who Could Be Easily Managed.

What Freddy Forgot Was That He Lacked Pluck Himself,  And That Silver,

Driven Into A Corner,  Might Fight With The Courage Of Despair. The Sight

Of The Secretary's Deadly White And Terrified Face As He Opened The Door

Sufficient To Peer Out Showed That He Was At Bay.

 

"If You Come In I'll Shoot," He Quavered,  Brokenly. "I'll--I'll Brain

You With The Poker. I'll Throw Hot Water On You,  And--And Scratch Out

Your--Your--"

 

"Come,  Come," Said Garvington,  Boldly. "It's Only Me--A Friend!"

 

Silver Recognized The Voice And The Dumpy Figure Of His Visitor. At Once

He Dragged Him Into The Passage And Barred The Door Quickly,  Breathing

Chapter 20 (The Destined End) Pg 191

Hard Meanwhile. "I Don't Mind You," He Giggled,  Hysterically. "You're In

The Same Boat With Me,  My Lord. But I Fancied When You Knocked That The

Police--The Police"--His Voice Died Weakly In His Throat: He Cast A Wild

Glance Around And Touched His Neck Uneasily As Though He Already Felt

The Hangman's Rope Encircling It.

 

Garvington Did Not Approve Of This Grim Pantomime,  And Swore. "I'm Quite

Alone,  Damn You," He Said Roughly. "It's All Right,  So Far!" He Sat Down

And Loosened His Overcoat,  For The Place Was Like A Turkish Bath For

Heat. "I Want A Drink. You've Been Priming Yourself,  I See," And He

Pointed To A Decanter Of Port Wine And A Bottle Of Brandy Which Were On

The Table Along With A Tray Of Glasses. "Silly Ass You Are To Mix."

 

"I'm--I'm--Keeping Up My--My Spirits," Giggled Silver,  Wholly Unnerved,

And Pouring Out The Brandy With A Shaking Hand. "There You Are,  My Lord.

There's Water,  But No Soda."

 

"Keeping Up Your Spirits By Pouring Spirits Down," Said Garvington,

Venturing On A Weak Joke. "You're In A State Of Siege,  Too."

 

Silver Certainly Was. He Had Bolted The Shutters,  And Had Piled

Furniture Against The Two Windows Of The Room. On The Table Beside The

Decanter And Bottles Of Brandy,  Lay A Poker,  A Heavy Club Which Lambert

Had Brought From Africa,  And Had Left Behind When He Gave Up The

Cottage,  A Revolver Loaded In All Six Chambers,  And A Large Bread Knife.

Apparently The Man Was In A Dangerous State Of Despair And Was Ready To

Give The