22

THE SEVEN POOR TRAVELLERS.

[Conducted

this scoundrel would be sure to add to it, she
would rather die than hold me to my engage-
ment even if my father would let me keep
it." He was a weak young fellow, and
ridiculously fond of her. I brought him
back to business with another rap of the
paper-knife.

'' Hold up, Mr. Frank," says I. " I have a
question or two more. Did you think of ask-
ing the young lady whether, to the best of her
knowledge, this infernal letter was the only
written evidence of the forgery now in ex-
istence?"

"Yes, I did think directly of asking her
that," says he; " and she told me she was quite
certain that there was no written evi-
dence of the forgery, except that one leiter."

"Will you give Mr. Davager his price for
it? " says I.

"Yes, " says Mr. Frank, as quick as light-
ning.

"Mr. Frank," says I, " you came here to
get my help and advice in this extremely
ticklish business, and you are ready, as I
know, without asking, to remunerate me for
all and any of my services at the usual pro-
fessional rate. Now, I've made up my mind
to act boldly desperately, if you like on
the hit or miss win-all-or-lose-all principle
in dealing with this matter. Here is my pro-
posal. I'm going to try if I can't do Mr.
Davager cut of his letter. If I don't succeed
before to-morrow afternoon, you hand him
the money, and I charge you nothing for pro-
fessional services. If I do succeed, I hand you
the letter instead of Mr. Davager; and you
give me the money, instead of giving it to
him. It's a precious risk for me , but I'm
ready to run it. You must pay your five
hundred any way. What do you say to my
plan? Is it, Yes Mr. Frank or, No?"

"Hang your questions! " cries Mr. Frank,
jumping up; " you know it's Yes, ten thou-
sand times over. Only you earn the money
and"

"And you will be too glad to give it to me.
Very good. Now go home. Comfort the
young lady don't let Mr. Davager so much
as set eyes on you keep quiet leave every-
thing to me and feel as certain as you
please that all the letters in the world can't
stop your being married on Wednesday."
With these words I hustled him off out
of the office; for I wanted to be left alone
to make my mind up about what I should
do.

The first thing, of course, was to have a
look at the enemy. I wrote to Mr. Davager,
telling him that I was privately appointed to
arrange the little business-matter between
himself and " another party " (no names!) on
friendly terms; and begging him to call on
me at his earliest convenience. At the very
beginning of the case, Mr. Davager bothered
me. His answer was that it would not be con-
venient to him to call till between six and seven
in the evening. In this way, you see, he con-

trived to make me lose several precious hours,
at a time when minutes almost were of import-
ance. I had nothing for it, but to be patient,
and to give certain instructions, before Mr.
Davager came, to my boy Tom.

There was never such a sharp boy of four-
teen before, and there never will be again, as
my boy, Tom. A spy to look after Mr. Davager
was, of course, the first requisite in a case of
this kind; and Tom was the smallest,
quickest, quietest, sharpest, stealthiest little
snake of a chap that ever dogged a gentleman's
steps and kept cleverly out of range of a gen-
tleman's eyes. I settled it with the boy that
he was not to show at all, when Mr. Davager
came; and that he was to wait to hear me
ring the bell, when Mr. Davager left. If I
rang twice, he was to show the gentle-
man out. If I rang  he was to keep
out of the way and follow the gentleman
wherever he went, till he got back to the inn.
Those were the only preparations I could
make to begin with; being obliged to wait,
and let myself be guided by what turned up.

About a quarter to seven my gentleman
came. In the profession of the law we get
somehow quite remarkably mixed up with
ugly people, blackguard people, and dirty
people. But far away the ugliest and dirtiest
blackguard I ever saw in my life was Mr.
Alfred Davager. He had greasy white hair
and a mottled face. He was low in the fore-
head, fat in the stomach, hoarse in the voice,
and weak in the legs. Both his eyes were
bloodshot, and one was fixed in his head. He
smelt of spirits, and carried a toothpick in his
mouth. "How are you 1 I've just done din-
ner," says he and he lights a cigar, sits down
with his legs crossed, and winks at me.

I tried at first to take the measure of him
in a wheedling, confidential Avay; but it was
no good. I asked him in a facetious smiling
manner, how he had got hold of the letter.
He only told me in answer that he had been
in the confidential employment of the writer
of it, and that he had always been famous
since infancy, for a sharp eye to his own in-
terests. I paid him some compliments; but
he was not to be flattered. I tried to make
him lose his temper; but he kept it in spite
of me. It ended in his driving me to my
last resource I made an attempt to frighten
him.

"Before we say a word about the money,"
I began, " let me put a case, Mr. Davager.
The pull you have on Mr. Francis Gatliffe
is, that you can hinder his marriage on Wed-
nesday. Now, suppose I have got a magis-
trate's warrant to apprehend you in my
pocket I Suppose I have a constable to
execute it in the next room? Suppose I bring
you up to-morrow the day before the mar-
riage charge you only generally with an
attempt to extort money, and apply for a
day's remand to complete the case '? Suppose,
as a suspicious stranger, you can't get bail in
this town 1 Suppose"