Agreeably to Cuthbert’s suggestion, Juliet had offered the money of Miss Loach to her mother. But Mrs. Octagon refused to be bribed — as she put it — into consenting to the match. In the presence of Mallow himself, she expressed the greatest detestation for him and for his uncle, and told Juliet she would never acknowledge her as a daughter if she married the young man. The poor girl was thus between two fires — that of her love for Cuthbert, and that of her mother’s hearty hatred for the Earl and his nephew. Under the circumstances Cuthbert thought it best to remain away from the “Shrine of the Muses” for a time until Mrs. Octagon could be brought to see reason. But she was so obstinate a woman that it was doubtful if she would ever behave in, an agreeable manner. Cuthbert returned to his rooms in a rather low state of mind. He knew that Juliet, whatever happened, would remain true to him, and had quite hoped to bribe Mrs. Octagon into consenting by means of the inherited money. But now things seemed more hopeless than ever. Juliet, although not very fond of her mother, was a devoted daughter from a sense of duty, and it would be difficult to bring her to consent to a match against which the elder woman so obstinately set her face.
Certainly Juliet had said she would marry with or without her mother’s consent, but now that the consent was withheld with violent words, she seemed inclined to wait. However, if she did not marry Mallow, he knew well that she would marry no one else, least of all the objectionable Arkwright, Cuthbert derived some degree of comfort from this small fact. He wondered if there was any chance of forcing Mrs. Octagon into giving her consent, but after surveying the situation could see no opportunity.
After dinner that night, Cuthbert was thinking of going to see his uncle, who still stopped at the Avon Hotel when Hale was announced. Mallow was surprised. The lawyer was not a friend of his, and he had no liking for his company. However, he felt a certain curiosity as to the reason of this unexpected visit and welcomed the man with civility. But he did not ask him to have any coffee though it was on the table. Cuthbert held to the traditions of the East regarding bread and salt, and he wished to leave himself free to deal with Hale as an enemy, should occasion arise, as it might. Hale was far too intimate with Maraquito to please the young man. And Maraquito’s attentions were far too pressing to make Cuthbert feel comfortable in her presence.
“Well, Mr. Hale,” said Mallow coldly, “why have you come?”
The lawyer, who was in an evening suit and dressed with taste and care, took a seat, although not invited to do so. He looked cold and calm, but there was an excited gleam in his large eyes which showed that his calmness masked some emotion, the cause of which Cuthbert could not fathom. “I have come to see you about young Saxon,” he said.
“Really,” answered Mallow coolly, although surprised, “what can you have to say to me about him.”
“He is your friend —”
“Pardon me. I can hardly call him so. We are acquaintances only.”
“But you are engaged to his sister,” persisted Hale.
Mallow threw away the cigarette he was lighting and jumped up. “I see no reason why Miss Saxon’s name should be mentioned, Mr. Hale.”
“Don’t you, Mr. Mallow? I do.”
“Then I object to your mentioning it. State your business and go, Mr. Hale. I have no acquaintance with you.”
“I can’t state my business unless I mention Miss Saxon’s name.”
“Then you will please to take yourself off,” said Mallow.
Hale smiled coldly, though evidently annoyed. “I think it is to your interest to hear me,” he said deliberately, “and to the interest of the lady whom you hope to call your wife.”
“Does this business concern Miss Saxon?”
“Indirectly it does. But it rather has to do with her brother.”
Mallow frowned. The conversation was taking a turn of which he did not approve. However, he knew well the dangerous ground upon which he stood with regard to the case, and thought it best to hear what his unexpected visitor had to say. “State your business,” he said curtly.
“Very good,” replied Hale, nursing his silk hat on his knee. “I see you don’t offer me coffee or a cigarette.”
“We are not friends, sir. And let me remind you that you thrust yourself uninvited on me.”
“To do you a service,” said Hale quickly. “I think, therefore, that I deserve a better reception.”
“Will you please come to the point?” said Mallow coldly, “whatever the service may be, I am quite sure it is two for you if one for me. You are not the man to go out of your way, Mr. Hale, to help anyone.”
Hale nodded and smiled grimly. “You are quite right. Now, then, Mr. Mallow, do you know that Basil Saxon was to have inherited the money of my late client, Miss Loach?”
“No, I never knew that. I understood that Miss Loach always intended to leave the money to Miss Saxon.”
Hale shook his well-oiled head. “On the contrary, Mr. Saxon was her favorite. In spite of his wild ways she liked him. However, she was also fond of Miss Saxon, and you may thank Miss Loach, Mr. Mallow, for having been the means of forwarding your engagement.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Cuthbert angrily.
“Mrs. Octagon,” went on the lawyer deliberately, “would never have consented to Miss Saxon becoming engaged to you had not Miss Loach insisted that she should agree.”
“Seeing that Mrs. Octagon hated her sister and was not likely, to be influenced by her, I do not see how that can be.”
“Perhaps not. Nevertheless, such is the case. You saw how, when Miss Loach died, Mrs. Octagon seized the first opportunity to place obstacles in the way of your marriage.”
“I believe she did that on Maraquito’s account, Mr. Hale. I know perfectly well that Mrs. Octagon called on Maraquito.”
“Quite so — to ask Maraquito not to let Basil Saxon play beyond his means. Certainly, Maraquito having a strange fancy for you, agreed, on condition that Mrs. Octagon refuse to let Miss Saxon marry you. But, in any case, Mrs. Octagon hates your uncle too much to allow her daughter to become your wife. You will never get Mrs. Octagon’s consent unless I help you.”
“You!” echoed Mallow, astonished and annoyed. “What possible influence can you have with Mrs. Octagon. I have certainly seen you at her house, but I scarcely think you know her well enough —”
“Oh, yes, I do.” Hale rose in his earnestness. “See here, sir; I love Maraquito and I wish to marry her.”
“You can, so far as I am concerned,”
“So you say,” said Hale bitterly, “but you cannot be ignorant that Maraquito loves you.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with our conversation,” replied Mallow, growing red and restless.
“It has everything to do with the matter. I want to marry Maraquito, as I am rich and deeply in love with her. She would have become my wife long ago but that you crossed her path. Lord knows why she should love a commonplace man like you, but she does.”
“Isn’t that rather personal?” said Mallow dryly.
“I beg your pardon. But what I wish to say is this. If you marry Miss Saxon and place yourself beyond Maraquito’s reach, I will be able to induce her to marry me. Our interests are bound up together. Now, to do this you must have Mrs. Octagon’s consent. I can get it.”
“In what way?”
“She loves Basil, her son, more than she does herself,” went on Hale, paying no attention to the remark. “To save him she would do much.”
“To save him from what?”
“Basil;” continued the lawyer, still not noticing the interruption, “is a young fool. He thought himself sure of Miss Loach’s money — and he was until a week before she died. Then he came to Rose Cottage and insulted her —”
“I have heard that. She ordered him out of the house.”
“She did. Miss Loach was a bitter, acrid old woman when the fit took her. However, Basil insulted her so grossly that she made a new will and left all the money to Miss Saxon. Now it happens that Basil, to supply himself with funds, when his aunt refused to aid his extravagance further, forged her name to a bill — What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” said Mallow, who had started from his chair, “only your intelligence is sufficiently unpleasant.”
“I can understand that,” sneered the lawyer, “since you wish to marry his sister. You don’t want a forger for a brother-inlaw.”
“Who does?” said Cuthbert, not telling that he was thinking of Basil in connection with a still darker crime. “Go on, Mr. Hale.”
“The bill fell into my hands. When Miss Saxon got the money she transferred the business to her own lawyer. I had to give the bill up.”
“Ah!” said Mallow meaningly, “I see now the hold you had over Basil.”
“Yes, that was my hold. I did not want to give up the bill. But it had been met, and as Miss Loach is dead, there was a difficulty in proving the signature to be a forgery. I therefore gave the bill to Miss Saxon. She knew of her brother’s guilt —”
“I see — I see,” murmured Cuthbert, wondering if she had been shielding Basil as well as him. “My poor girl!”
“She is a brave girl,” said Hale, in a voice of reluctant admiration. “She met me and fought for her brother. I gave way, as I did not wish to make trouble. Why, it doesn’t matter. However, you see how things stand. Basil is a forger. If his mother knew that he was in danger of being arrested she would consent to your marriage, and then I might marry Maraquito. I have come here to tell you this.”
“But if Miss Saxon has the bill, and there is a difficulty of proving the signature, owing to Miss Loach’s death, I don’t see —”
“Ah, not in this case. But Basil Saxon forged my name also. I hold a forged check. I met it and said nothing about it. Basil, thinking because his sister held the bill that he was out of my power, was most insolent. But I said nothing of the check which he thought I never detected. The more fool he. He must have a fine opinion of my business capacity. However, as the check is only for fifty hounds, he probably thought that it would escape my notice. Well, you see how I can force Mrs. Octagon’s hand. What do you say?”
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