"I am much--very much--flattered by your lordship's confidence. The former money, I have reason to think, my lord, went to satisfy an old debt, and I have reason to _know_ that his den has been discovered by another creditor, from whom, even were funds at his disposal to leave England to-night, escape would be difficult, if not impossible."

"How much money does he want?" asked Mr. Cleve Verney.

"A _moment_, a _moment_, please. I was going to say," said Lord Verney, "if he wants money--about it--it would be desirable to state the amount."

Mr. Larkin, thus called on, cleared his voice, and his dove-like eyes contracted, and a.s.sumed their rat-like look, and he said, watching Lord Verney's face,--

"I am afraid, my lord, that less than three hundred----"

Lord Verney contracted his brows, and nodded, after a moment.

"Three hundred pounds. Less, I say, my lord, will not satisfy the creditor, and there will remain something still in order to bring him back, and to keep him quiet there for a time; and I think, my lord, if you will go the length of _five_ hundred----"

"'Gad, it's growing quite serious, Mr.--Mr. Sir, I confess I don't half understand this _person_, Mr. Ding--Dong--whatever it is--it's going rather too _fast_ about it. I--I--and that's my clear opinion--" and Lord Verney gazed and blinked sternly at the attorney, and patted his fragrant pocket-handkerchief several times to his chin--"very unreasonable and monstrous, and, considering all I've done, very _ungrateful_."

"Quite so, my lord; monstrously ungrateful. I can't describe to your lordship the trouble I have had with that extraordinary and, I fear I must add, fiendish person. I allude, of course, my lord, in my privileged character as having the honour of confidential relations with your lordship, to that unfortunate man, Dingwell. I a.s.sure you, on one occasion, he seized a poker in his lodgings, and threatened to dash my brains out."

"Very good, sir," said Lord Verney, whose mind was busy upon quite another point; "and suppose I _do_, what do we gain, I ask, by a.s.sisting him?"

"Simply, my lord, he is so incredibly reckless, and, as I have said, _fiendish_, that if he were disappointed, I do think he will stick at nothing, even to the length of swearing that his evidence for your lordship was _perjured_, for the purpose of being revenged, and your generosity to him pending the inquiry, or rather the preparation of proofs, would give a colour unfortunately even to that monstrous allegation. Your lordship can have no idea--the elevation of your own mind prevents it--of the desperate character with whom we have had to deal."

"Upon my life, sir, a pleasant position you seem to have brought me into," said Lord Verney, flushing a good deal.

"My lord, it was inevitable," said Mr. Larkin, sadly.

"I don't think he could have helped it, really," said Cleve Verney.

"And who says he could?" asked Lord Verney, tartly. "I've all along said it could not well be helped, and that's the reason I _did_ it, don't you see? but I may be allowed to say, I suppose, that the position is a most _untoward_ one; and so it is, egad!" and Lord Verney got up in his fidget, and walked over to the window, and to the chimney-piece, and to the table, and fiddled with a great many things.

"I remember my late brother, Shadwell Verney--he's dead, poor Shadwell--had a world of trouble with a fellow--about it--who used to extort money from him--something I suppose--like this Mr. Ringwood--or I mean--you know his name--till he called in the police, and put an end to it."

"Quite true, my lord, quite true; but don't you think, my lord, such a line with Mr. Dingwell might lead to a _fraycas_, and the possible unpleasantness to which _I_ ventured to allude? _You_ have seen him, Mr.

Verney?"

"Yes; he's a beast, he really _is_; a little bit mad, I almost think."

"A little bit mad, precisely so; it really is, my lord, most melancholy.

And I am so clearly of opinion that if we quarrel definitively with Mr.

Dingwell, we may find ourselves in an extremely difficult position, that were the case my own, I should have no hesitation in satisfying Mr.

Dingwell, even at a sacrifice, rather than incur the annoyance I antic.i.p.ate. If you allow me, my lord, to conduct the matter with Mr.

Dingwell, I think I shall succeed in getting him away quietly."

"It seems to me a very serious sum, Mr. Larkin," said Lord Verney.

"Precisely so, my lord; serious--very serious; but your lordship made a remark once in my hearing which impressed me powerfully: it was to the effect that where an object is to be accomplished, it is better to expend a little too much power, than anything too little." I think that Mr. Larkin invented this remark of Lord Verney's, which, however, his lordship was pleased to recognise, notwithstanding.

So the attorney took his departure, to call again next day.

"Clever man that Mr.--Mr. Larkin--vastly clever," said Lord Verney. "I rather think there's a great deal in what he says--it's very disgusting--about it; but one must consider, you know--there's no harm in considering--and--and that Mr.--Dong--Dingleton, isn't it?--about it--a most offensive person. I must consider--I shall think it over, and give him my ideas to-morrow."

Cleve did not like an expression which had struck him in the attorney's face that day, and he proposed next day to write to Mr. Dingwell, and actually did so, requesting that he would be so good as to call at Verney House.

Mr. Dingwell did not come; but a note came by post, saying that the writer, Mr. Dingwell, was not well enough to venture a call.

What I term Mr. Larkin's rat-like eyes, and a certain dark and even wicked look that crosses the attorney's face, when they appear, had left a profound sense of uncertainty in Cleve's mind respecting that gentleman's character and plans. It was simply a conviction that the attorney meditated something odd about Mr. Dingwell, and that no good man could look as he had looked.

There was no use in opening his suspicion, grounded on so slight a thing as a look, to his uncle, who, though often timid and hesitating, and in secret helpless, and at his wits' end for aid in arriving at a decision, was yet, in a matter where vanity was concerned, or a strong prejudice or caprice involved, often incredibly obstinate.

Mr. Larkin's look teased Cleve. Larkin might grow into an influence very important to that young gentleman, and was not lightly to be quarrelled with. He would not quarrel with him; but he would see Dingwell, if indeed that person were still in London; a fact about which he had begun to have some odd misgivings. The note was written in a straight, cramp hand, and Mr. Larkin's face was in the background always. He knew Mr. Dingwell's address; an answer, real or forged, had reached him from it. So, full of dark dreams and conjectures, he got into a cab, and drove to the entrance of Rosemary Court, and knocked at Miss Sarah Rumble's door.

That good lady, from the shadow, looked suspiciously on him.

"Is Mr. Dingwell at home?"

"Mr. Dingwell, sir?" she repeated.

"Yes. Is he at home?"

"Mr. Dingwell, sir? _No_ sir."

"Does not Mr. Dingwell live here?"

"There _was_ a gentleman, please, sir, with a name like that. Go _back_, child," she said, sharply to Lucy Maria, who was peeping in the background, and who might not be edified, perhaps, by the dialogue. "Beg parding, sir," she continued, as the child disappeared; "they _are_ so tiresome! There was an old gentleman lodging here, sir, please, which his name was like that I do remember."

Cleve Verney did not know what to think.

"Is there anyone in the house who knows Mr. Dingwell? I've come to be of use to him; perhaps he could see me. Will you say Mr. Verney?"

"Mr.--_what_, sir, please?"

"Verney--here's my card; perhaps it is better."

As the conversation continued, Miss Rumble had gradually come more and more forward, closing the door more and more as she did so, so that she now confronted Cleve upon the step, and could have shut the door at her back, had he made any attempt to get in; and she called over her shoulder to Lucy Maria, and whispered something, and gave her, I suppose, the card; and in a minute more Miss Rumble opened the door wide, and showed "the gentleman" upstairs, and told him on the lobby she hoped he would not be offended, but that she had such positive orders as to leave her no choice; and that in fact Mr. Dingwell was in the drawing-room, and would be happy to see him, and almost at the same moment she threw open the door and introduced him, with a little courtesy, and--

"This way, please, sir; here's the gentleman, please, sir."

There he _did_ find Mr. Dingwell, smoking a cigar, in his fez, slippers, and pea-green silk dressing-gown, with a cup of black coffee on the little table beside him, his _Times_ and a few magazines there also. He looked, in vulgar parlance, "seedy," like an old fellow who had been raking the night before, and was wofully tired, and in no very genial temper.

"Will you excuse an old fellow, Mr. Verney, and take a chair for yourself? I'm not very well to-day. I suppose, from your note, you thought I had quitted London. It was not to be expected so old a plant should take root; but it's sometimes not worth moving 'em again, and they remain where they are, to wither, ha, ha, ha!"

"I should be sorry it was for any such purpose; but I am happy to find you still here, for I was really anxious to call and thank you."

"_Anxious_--to _thank me_! Are you really _serious_, Mr. Verney?" said Dingwell, lowering his cigar again, and looking with a stern smile in his visitor's face.

"Yes, sir; I _did_ wish to call and tell you," said Cleve, determined not to grow angry; "and I _am_ here to say that we are very much obliged."

"_We?_"

"Yes; my uncle and I."