But it was not till the fourth evening that Mr. Dockwrath spent with his lodger that the intimacy had so far progressed as to enable Mr. Crabwitz to proceed with his little scheme. On that day Mr. Dockwrath had received a notice that at noon on the following morning Mr. Joseph Mason and Bridget Bolster would both be at the house of Messrs. Round and Crook in Bedford Row, and that he could attend at that hour if it so pleased him. It certainly would so please him, he said to himself when he got that letter; and in the evening he mentioned to his new friend the business which was taking him to London.
“If I might advise you in the matter, Mr. Dockwrath,” said Crabwitz, “I should stay away altogether.”
“And why so?”
“Because that’s not your market. This poor devil of a woman—for she is a poor devil of a woman—”
“She’ll be poor enough before long.”
“It can’t be any gratification to you running her down.”
“Ah, but the justice of the thing.”
“Bother. You’re talking now to a man of the world. Who can say what is the justice or the injustice of anything after twenty years of possession? I have no doubt the codicil did express the old man’s wish—even from your own story. But of course you are looking for your market. Now it seems to me that there’s a thousand pounds in your way as clear as daylight.”
“I don’t see it myself, Mr. Cooke.”
“No; but I do. The sort of thing is done every day. You have your father-in-law’s office journal?”
“Safe enough.”
“Burn it;—or leave it about in these rooms like;—so that somebody else may burn it.”
“I’d like to see the thousand pounds first.”
“Of course you’d do nothing till you knew about that;—nothing except keeping away from Round and Crook tomorrow. The money would be forthcoming if the trial were notoriously dropped by next assizes.”
Dockwrath sat thinking for a minute or two, and every moment of thought made him feel more strongly that he could not now succeed in the manner pointed out by Mr. Cooke. “But where would be the market you are talking of?” said he.
“I could manage that,” said Crabwitz.
“And go shares in the business?”
“No, no; nothing of the sort.” And then he added, remembering that he must show that he had some personal object, “If I got a trifle in the matter it would not come out of your allowance.”
The attorney again sat silent for a while, and now he remained so for full five minutes, during which Mr. Crabwitz puffed the smoke from between his lips with a look of supreme satisfaction. “May I ask,” at last Mr. Dockwrath said, “whether you have any personal interest in this matter?”
“None in the least;—that is to say, none as yet.”
“You did not come down here with any view—”
“Oh dear no; nothing of the sort. But I see at a glance that it is one of those cases in which a compromise would be the most judicious solution of difficulties. I am well used to this kind of thing, Mr. Dockwrath.”
“It would not do, sir,” said Mr. Dockwrath, after some further slight period of consideration. “It wouldn’t do. Round and Crook have all the dates, and so has Mason too. And the original of that partnership deed is forthcoming; and they know what witnesses to depend on. No, sir; I’ve begun this on public grounds, and I mean to carry it on. I am in a manner bound to do so as the representative of the attorney of the late Sir Joseph Mason;—and by heavens, Mr. Cooke, I’ll do my duty.”
“I dare say you’re right,” said Mr. Crabwitz, mixing a quarter of a glass more brandy and water.
“I know I’m right, sir,” said Dockwrath. “And when a man knows he’s right, he has a deal of inward satisfaction in the feeling.” After that Mr. Crabwitz was aware that he could be of no use at Hamworth, but he stayed out his week in order to avoid suspicion.
On the following day Mr. Dockwrath did proceed to Bedford Row, determined to carry out his original plan, and armed with that inward satisfaction to which he had alluded. He dressed himself in his best, and endeavoured as far as was in his power to look as though he were equal to the Messrs. Round. Old Crook he had seen once, and him he already despised. He had endeavoured to obtain a private interview with Mrs. Bolster before she could be seen by Matthew Round; but in this he had not succeeded. Mrs. Bolster was a prudent woman, and, acting doubtless under advice, had written to him, saying that she had been summoned to the office of Messrs. Round and Crook, and would there declare all that she knew about the matter. At the same time she returned to him a money order which he had sent to her.
Punctually at twelve he was in Bedford Row, and there he saw a respectable-looking female sitting at the fire in the inner part of the outer office. This was Bridget Bolster, but he would by no means have recognised her. Bridget had risen in the world and was now head chambermaid at a large hotel in the west of England. In that capacity she had laid aside whatever diffidence may have afflicted her earlier years, and was now able to speak out her mind before any judge or jury in the land. Indeed she had never been much afflicted by such diffidence, and had spoken out her evidence on that former occasion, now twenty years since, very plainly. But as she now explained to the head clerk, she had at that time been only a poor ignorant slip of a girl, with no more than eight
