LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2375, 12 November 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

CURIOUS CIRCUMSTANTIAL PUZZF E, a lawyer's sronr, ("London Society.") [Continued.) Tho more I thought things ovjt, tho lefs displeased I was with myre'f for tho way in which they had gone. Tho more anybody thinks about it, the more finished a rogue, in spite of his years, will Adam Brown appear to be. Of course it was natural that John Bailor, like aU men of his temper whoa they meet with such every-day things as ingratitude and breach of trust, should feel miaananthropical, and, as if confider.cs in his fellow craaturea was hsnooforth cTeai in him. Ferhap3, however, his experience would have a wholesome effeot upon him by teaching him that the son of a woman wo have loved in our youth is not, solely for that rather sentimental reason, bound to ba better than aU other eous of Kvo in general. Young men who have had mothers have also had fathers; and Mr Brown, the commission agent, had not borne altogether the highest of characters while alive. I did not see, or hoar from, John Buller for the next few days ; which was rather singular, as he nearly always had a good deal of business on hand which required the help of a floiicitor, and as two or three important agreements to which he was party were just then passing through my hands. But I heard in various incidental ways oj young Brown. A clerk of mine was on acquaintance of his ; and he told me—without knowing any of the circumstances —that Brown had suddenly left John Buller, and had gone up to London to find another sit nation ; which, without any sort of chatac ter (for John Bulkr was Incapable of giving a false or even a misleading ono to anybody;, I imagined he would find it hard to do, except as active partner in a firm of forgets b'rom another source 1 heard he had had a fortune left him, and w?s going to live on a fine estate in the country. Anyhow, ho lef . b-th Redport and Carcester without leaving behind him a guess as to the true reason of his departure. It was not, indeed, till the following Friday afternoon that I next received a visit from John Buller. I thought him looking harassed, and I told him so. ' I'm afraid you keep too many irons in the tire,' said I. * Not a bit of it; one keeps the other warm. . If yon was as aa tr.ueh by yourself as I am, you'd want a bit more work than you could manage, just to keep you and yourself from quarrelling.' ' Have you heard anything more of young Brown ?'

' Young who ?' 4 Young Brown.' ' I've forgotten hi 3 name ; and you won't remind me of it, if you and me'a to ktep friends. Thero's no such name. Talking of not looking well—it's yoa that don't look yours-If, it seems to mo ; you want a day : 3 holiday, and I've looked in to aak you to be so kind as to take one.'

4 You're very kind, I'm sure ; but—' 'Bat be hanged 1 L jok hero, Mr Btjndish, to-day's Friday; and there's the usual business of pacing in and drawing out to be dono over at Bedport tomorrow. I cannot do it myself, as I've got to be iu three other places at once by tbc first train ; and I'm not such an ass as to trust any of my people hero with the value of sevenpence halfpenny; once bit twice ahy. I've dono with trusting for the rest of my days ; at the rate (f fifty pound a week, it don't pay. You've never been over at Bedport; and, though I aay it that shouldn't, the placo is worth seeing, as a specimen of what places can be made to grow. You take a day's run over there to morrow —you and Mrs Htaudish too; I'll give you a pass on the line, ad telegraph to the Star to treat jon like princes and princesses. You can make a Sa'urday tc-Monday of it, if you please. I want you to aoe Rodport bafore it grows out of all knowing; say yes, nnd I'll have the cheques and things ready for you to pick up at my house on your way to the train.'

I was not particularly anxious for a holiday, and certainly no wish to spend ono 'like a prince' at the Star. But, at tbe samo time, I had no sort of objection to an idie day, and it was almost necessary, as a matter of business, to see the neighboricg town which was becoming every day more and more an i fllco word. So, though more to pleaie my beat client than for any other reason, I agreed, only bargaining that I should, be left free from the special attentions of the Star. John Buller thanked mo for my promise to go as if I had done him some extraordinary favor. • Well, if you won't let me telegraph, when you do ask for lunch at the Star mention my name ; you won't see much going on in tho building line just now. One of the things I've got to be away for to-morrow is to get another scoundrel—till he's found out, like the rest of 'em—in the place of po:>r young—of that young blackguard whose name i'll never remember again, if I live for a thousand years.' Now I don't want to have it supposed for a moment that my goiug over to Redport alone—that is to say, without my wife—was due to any fault or neglect of mine. If I could have foreseen that my day of idleness was to be one cf solitude also, I should probably not quite so readily have consented to take a holiday. As it happened, however, I found when I got homo from the office that Mrs Standish had almost that very moment received an urgent summons to the sick bad of her sister, who lived at the other end of England, which obliged her to take tho very next train from Carcester and to travel all night through. Naturally, until I had seen her off, I did not think again of ray promised visit to report. So. sb it was too lato to bsck out of going, I de i led to run over in the morning, do my business at the Bank, and get back as early in the after* noon as the then infrequent trains between Bedport and Carcester allowed- So next morning, having told my clerks to close the office at the usual hour, which on Saturday was always an early one. I went to John Buller's house, and from his hand received the cheque case which he had ready for me Knowing his feelings about the matter, I refrained from making any uort of allusion to it, and even made a point of ppeakinjcareles3ly abiat indifferent things. I put the case, otherwise untouched, in my breast pocket, and there it remained till I reached the counter of the Bank at Redport. ' Where's Mr Brown ?' asked the clerk, as he took the leather case ; 'it doesn't seem like Saturday morning without seeing Brown.' 4 He's away just at present,' said I; 'Mr Bnller asked me to give you this. All right, I suppose ?' There was no need to lessen my dignity ia Bedport as Mr Bailer's legal adviser, or to give Adam Brown the reputation he deserved by explaining why I was doing the work of a builder's clerk on this occasion.

'All right,' said the clerk, turning over the cheques; ' quite right. By the way, there's a message or something the manager wants to send to Mr Buller, I believe. I was to tell Brown eo when be called. I suppose you'll do just the same V ' I can take any message for Mr Builer,* said I; 'atyhow, I shall be seeing him on Monday, if that will do.' ' I daresay it will, Would you miad stepping this way V I followed the clerk into an is nor room, where I for tho first time met the manager of the Redport branch of tho County Bank, hitherto known tome as Mr George Richards by name on'y. We bowed, and he offered me a seat politely. 4 You are my friend Mr Buller's new clerk of the works, I presume?' asked he. 4 No,' aaid I ; ' I have no business in Ridport, except to cash aud pay in these paperß for Mr Buller while passing by. But if there ia any message I can give him—' ' I don't know. S"ou are not leaving Redport immediately I suppose ?' 4 Woll, aa to ibat, I am; ia fact, by the very n< xfc train.' 4 By the next train ? Hm !' Mr Richards was a very young man for his place, and I began to fancy there was something I did not like in his manner. 4 Going back to Carcester anyhow, I suppose?' he asked again. 4 Yes,'l answered shortly; 'and I believe the train starts In half an hour. So if yon can toll me what you want said to Mr Buller I shall be glad, as I haven't much time to Itse.'

4 Yea—of courso—certainly. Bat there's a little matter; would you mind telling me if .yoa received these cheques straight from Mr Bullet V

•Certainly I did. la there anything wrong ?' ' Vou received them just aa they are now ?'

' Exactly as they are now. What is it, Mr Richards ? lam really In a hurry.' ' I'm very sorry. Bnt you see lam In a responsible position, and one can't be too careful in these diys. I havo already sent a messenger to telegraph to Mr Buller ; would you mind wai'iag hero till ho ccniaa ?' ' The messenger ?' 'No, till Mr Buller can ccme over. I daresay it is all right; but—" ' But I can't wait, Mr Richards. May I ask you what you mean ? I c*n tell you that Mr Bull ia not in Carcester, and will not get your telegram till Monday, if then.' 'That's awkward, by Jove, it ia to. But that we shall sea.' ' But meanwhile I must wish you goodday. If there's anything wrong you must settle it with Mr Buller ; I can't wait now.' 'No? Well, then, Mr—Mr—l must frankly tell you that I must ask you to wait, even if it's till Monday, till Mr Buller can come over here. It's an awkard situation I'm placed In, but —and I daiesay Mr Puller la net at Carcester, as you say ; but—well; whether you're—it's all right or wrong, yon see, in your own Interest that I must ask you to remain. You see hero's a cheque that I daren't cash without special instructions from Mr Buller.' ' Don't oash it, then. Good day—' 4 Quite ao ; bu 1 ; I'd advise you not to be In quite euch a hurry to be off, all the same. l n fact, it's my unpleasant duty to ask yon to stay here at the Bank until the fact of this cheque being in your hands can be more fully explained.' ' I have explained It ' I began angrily ; ' I received it from Mr Buller, if it came out with the rest from that oase lying before you. Why should yen venture to speak, even to a stranger, as if yon had any reason to doubt his word ? I don't understand thia at all.*

' For this reason ; I have tho best reason for believing thnt this cheque was never drawn by Mr Buller. And now you see how it becomes my unpleasant duty—' * Nonsense ! As if I hadn't received every one of those cheques straight from his hand?. You talk aa if you took mo for a forger. Well, I suppose I must excuse you, on the ground of over zeal.' ' It is most improbable that this cheque was drawn by—well, never mind why. I'm bound to tell you that if yon refuse to wait here for Mr Buller's arrival of your own free will, and in your own intrrest, I shall have to ca 1 upon the police to assist me in the execution cf my duty towards the Bank and its custom3rs and the public at large.' ' Why,' I began, my anger half losing itself in amusement, ' this is something too absurd. You can't call in a constable unless ycu can give him good reason to suspect me of felony. I have half a mind to let you try, for the fun of the thing. Only it would be wasting my own time, f-'o i'll put an end to your scruples about the public at large by telling you at once that my name Is Standish, and that I am solicitor to Mr Buller, and live at Carcester. And the next time I advise you, aa a lawyor, to be more careful how you treat people who come to your Bank.' '' Ycu are Mr Buller's solicitor ? Indeed ? Of course that is important—very important; and ud doubt yon can send for somebody in Newport who knows you? No—wo can't be too careful in theso days.' ' I don't hnow a soul in Redport ' «No ? B'm ! Well, Mr Bailer will know you—when he comes.' ' But I teli you he won't get your telegram for at least two days. 'This is monBtrouM !' I broke out, my ainuaemenb turning back into anger sgain. ' Mojstrous or not— Well then, perhaps, as you ftol safe from being brought face to face with—l should say, at you are convinced if r Buller is not at home, I suppose you have friends or clerko in Carcester who ould glvo evidence as to who you say you are—are, I ought no doubt to say ? The telegraph's as open to you as to me. * 4 You positively are so insane as to say yon will forcibly detain—mo—in Redport unless I can convince you that I am myself ? And for no reason— *