Mike Fletcher - George Moore (best books to read now TXT) 📗
- Author: George Moore
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Have Only Two Hundred, And That Won't Be Of The Slightest Use To Me."
"Oh, You Have Sold Part Of The Paper Already, Have You? How Do You
Know Your Friend Will Consent To Be Bought Out? That Complicates
Matters."
"My Friend Only Did It To Oblige Me; He Is Only Too Anxious To Be
Bought Out. He Is In A Fearful Funk Lest He Should Be Compromised In
A Libel Action."
"Oh, Then I Think It Can Be Managed. Were I In Your Place I Should
Try And Get Rid Of Him For Nothing. I Can't Offer You Better Terms;
It Wouldn't Pay Me To Do So; I Might As Well Start A New Paper."
"Yes, But Tell Me, How Can I Get Rid Of Him For Nothing?"
Thigh Looked At Frank Inquiringly, And Apparently Satisfied He Drew
His Chair Nearer, Stroked His Moustache, And Said, Speaking Under His
Breath--
"Have You Collected What Money Is Owing To The Paper Lately? Have You
Chapter 7 Pg 90Many Outstanding Debts?"
"We Have Got Some."
"Well, Don't Collect Any Money That Is Owing, But Make Out A Long
Statement Of The Paper's Liabilities; Don't Say A Word About The
Outstanding Debts, And Tell Your Friend That He Is Responsible As
Part Owner Of The Paper For This Money. When You Have Sufficiently
Frightened Him, Suggest That He Should Sign Over His Share To You,
You Being A Man Of Straw Whom It Would Be Useless To Proceed Against.
Or You Might Get Your Printer To Press You For Money--"
"That Won't Be Difficult."
"Offer Him A Bill, And Then Mix The Two Accounts Up Together."
At This Moment Mike Was Speaking To Lizzie Of Love. She Told Him
There Was No Real Happiness Except In Married Life, Assured Him That
Though They Might Be Beggars To-Day, She Would Not Give Up Her
Husband For All The Wealth Of The Three Kingdoms.
Very Anxious To Ascertain The Truth About Married Life, Mike Pressed
Lizzie Upon Several Points; The Old Ache Awoke About His Heart, And
Again He Resolved To Regenerate His Life, And Love Lily And None But
Her. He Looked Round The Room, Considering How He Could Get Away.
Frank Was Talking Business. He Would Not Disturb Him. No Doubt Thigh
Was Concocting Some Swindle, But He (Mike) Knew Nothing Of Business;
He Had A Knack Of Turning The King At Écarté, But Was Nowhere Once
Bills And The Cooking Of Accounts Were Introduced. Should He Post The
Letter? That Was The Question, And It Played In His Ears Like An
Electric Bell. Here Was The Letter; He Could Feel It Through His
Coat, Lying Over His Heart, And There It Had Lain Since He Had
Written It.
Frank And Thigh Continued Talking; Lizzie Went To The Baby, And Mike
Walked Into The Night, Looking At The Stars. He Walked Along The
White High-Road--To Him A Road Of Dreams--Towards The White Town--To
Him A Town Of Chimeras--And Leaning Over The Moon-Lit River, Shaking
Himself Free From The Hallucination Within And Without Him, He Said--
"On One Hand I Shall Belong To One Woman. Her House Shall Be My
House, Her Friends Shall Be My Friends; The Others, The Beautiful,
Fascinating Others, Will Cease To Dream Of Me, I Shall No Longer Be
Their Ideal. On The Other Hand I Shall Gain The Nicest Woman, And
Surely It Must Be Right To Take, Though It Be For Life, The Nicest
Woman In The World. She Will Supply What Is Wanting In My Character;
Together We Shall Attain A Goal; Alone I Shall Attain None. In Twenty
Years I Shall Be A Foolish Old Bachelor Whom No One Cares For. I Have
Stated Both Cases--On Which Side Does The Balance Turn?"
The Balance Still Stood At Equipoise. A Formless Moon Soared Through
A White Cloud Wrack, And Broken Gold Lay In The Rising Tide. The
Sonorous Steps Of The Policeman On The Bridge Startled Him, And
Obeying The Impulse Of The Moment, He Gave The Officer The Letter,
Asking Him To Post It. He Waited For Some Minutes, As If Stupefied,
Pursuing The Consequences Of His Act Even Into Distant Years. No, He
Would Not Send The Letter Just Yet. But The Officer Had Disappeared
In Some By-Streets, And Followed By The Spirits Of Future Loves, Mike
Ran Till He Reached The Post-Office, Where He Waited In Nervous
Apprehension. Presently Steps Were Heard In The Stillness, And
Getting Between Him And The Terrible Slot, Mike Determined To Fight
For His Letter If It Were Refused Him.
"I Met You Just Now On The Bridge And Asked You To Post A Letter;
Give It Back To Me, If You Please. I've Changed My Mind."
The Officer Looked At Him Narrowly, But He Took The Proffered
Shilling, And Returned The Letter.
"That Was The Narrowest Squeak I've Had Yet," Thought Mike.
Chapter 7 Pg 91
When He Returned To The Cottage He Found Frank And Thigh Still
Together.
"Mr. Beacham Brown," Said Thigh, "Is Now Half-Proprietor Of The
_Pilgrim_. The Papers Are Signed. I Came Down Quite Prepared. I
Believe In Settling Things Right Off. When Mrs. Escott Comes In, We
Will Drink To The New _Pilgrim_, Or, If You Like It Better, To The
Old _Pilgrim_, Who Starts Afresh With A New Staff And Scrip, And A
Well-Filled Scrip Too," He Added, Laughing Vacuously.
"I Hope," Said Mike, "That Holloway Is Not The Shrine He Is
Journeying Towards."
"I Hope Your Book Won't Bring Us There."
"Why, I Didn't Know You Were Going To Continue--"
"Oh, Yes," Said Thigh; "That Is To Say, If We Can Come To An
Arrangement About The Purchase," And Thigh Lapsed Into A Stony
Silence, As Was His Practice When Conducting A Bargain.
"By God!" Mike Thought, "I Wish We Were Playing At Écarté Or Poker.
I'm No Good At Business."
"Well," He Said At Last, "What Terms Do You Propose To Offer Me?"
Thigh Woke Up.
"I Never Bargain," He Said. "I'll Give You Beacham Brown's Cheque For
A Hundred And Fifty If You Will Give Me A Receipt For Three Hundred,"
And He Looked Inquiry Out Of His Small, Pale Blue Eyes, And Mike
Noticed The Diamond Ring On The Hand That Caressed His Moustache.
"No," Said Mike, "That Isn't Fair. You Don't Write A Line Of The
Book. There Is Not Even The Excuse Of Commission, For The Book Is Now
Appearing."
"Escott Would Not Have Paid You Anything Like That Amount. I Think
I'm Treating You Very Liberally. Indeed I Don't Mind Telling You That
I Should Not Offer You Anything Like Such Terms If Beacham Brown Were
Not Anxious To Have The Book; He Read Your Last Article In The Train,
And Came Back Raving About It."
Bright Pleasure Passed Across Mike's Face; He Thought Thigh Had
Slipped In The Avowal, And He Girt Himself For Resolute Resistance
And Cautious Attack. But Thigh Was The Superior Strategist. Mike Was
Led From The Subject, And Imperceptibly Encouraged To Speak Of Other
Things, And Without Interruption He Span Paradoxes And Scattered
Jokes For Ten Minutes. Then The Conversation Dropped, And Annoyed,
Mike Fixed His Eyes On Thigh, Who Sat In Unmovable Silence.
"Well," Said Mike, "What Do You Intend To Do?"
"About What?" Said Thigh, With A Half-Waking Stare.
"About This Book Of Mine. You Know Very Well That If I Take It To
Another Shop You'll Find It Difficult To Get Anything Like As Good A
Serial. I Know Pretty Well What Talent Is Walking About Fleet
Street."
Thigh Said Nothing, Only Raised His Eyes As If Mike's Words Were Full
Of Suggestion, And Again Beguiled, Mike Rambled Into Various
Criticisms Of Contemporary Journalism. Friends Were Laughed At, And
The Papers They Edited Were Stigmatized As Rags That Lived Upon The
Ingenuity Of The Lies Of Advertising Agents. When The Conversation
Again Dropped, Thigh Showed No Inclination Of Returning To The Book,
But, As Before, Sat In Stony Silence, And Out Of Temper With Himself,
Mike Had To Ask Him Again What The Terms Were.
"I Cannot Offer You Better Terms Than I Have Already Done."
Chapter 7 Pg 92
"Very Well; I'll Take One Hundred And Fifty For The Serial Rights."
"No, For The Entire Rights."
"No, I'll Be Damned, I Don't Care What Happens!"
Then Frank Joined In The Discussion. Every One Withdrew The Offer He
Had Made, And All Possibility Of Agreement Seemed At An End. Somehow
It Was Suggested That Thigh Should Toss Mike Whether He Should Pay
Him Two Hundred Or A Hundred And Fifty. The Men Exchanged Questioning
Looks, And At That Moment Lizzie Entered With A Pack Of Cards, And
Thigh Said--
"I'll Play You At Écarté--The Best Out Of Seven Games."
Mike Realized At Once The Situation, And He Hoped Frank Would Not
Betray Him. He Saw That Thigh Had Been Drinking. "God Has Given Him
Into My Hands," He Thought; And It Was Agreed That They Should Play
The Best Out Of Seven Games For Twenty-Five Pounds, And That The
Loser Should Have The Right To Call For A Return Match. Mike Knew
Nothing Of His Opponent's Play, But He Did Not For A Moment Suspect
Him Of Superior Skill. Such A Thing Could Hardly Be, And He Decided
He Would Allow Him To Win The First Games, Watching Carefully The
While, So That He Might Study His Combinations And Plans, And Learn
In What Measure He Might Pack And "Bridge" The Cards. There Is Much
In A Shuffle, And Already Mike Believed Him To Be No More Than An
Ordinary Club Player, Capable Of Winning A Few Sovereigns From A
Young Man Fresh From The University; And Although The Cards Mike Held
Did Not Warrant Such A Course, He Played Without Proposing, And When
He Lost The Trick He Scanned His Opponent's Face, And Seeing It
Brighten, He Knew The Ruse Had Succeeded. But Luck Seemed To Run
Inexplicably Against Him, And He Was Defeated. In The Return Match He
Met With Similar Luck, And Rose From The Table, Having Lost Fifty
Pounds. Mike Wrote A Second I O U For Twenty-Five Pounds, To Be Paid
Out Of The Hundred And Fifty Pounds Which He Had Agreed In Writing To
Accept For The Book Before Sitting Down To Play. Then He Protested
Vehemently Against His Luck, And So Well Did He Act His Part, That
Even If Thigh Had Not Drunk Another Glass Of Whiskey-And-Water He
Would Not Have Perceived That Mike Was Simulating An Excitement Which
He Did Not Feel.
"I'll Play You For A Hundred Pounds--The Best Out Of Seven Games;
Damn The
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