The barrister looked at Mr Thomas and was agreeably prepossessed by his open although nervous countenance, and the simplicity and timidity of his manner. 'What a people are these Americans!' he thought. 'Look at this nervous, weedy, ****** little bird in a lownecked shirt, and think of him wielding and directing interests so extended and seemingly incongruous! 'But had we not better,' he observed aloud, 'had we not perhaps better approach the facts?'
'Man of business, I perceive, sir!' said the Australian. 'Let's approach the facts. It's a breach of promise case.'
The unhappy artist was so unprepared for this view of his position that he could scarce suppress a cry.
'Dear me,' said Gideon, 'they are apt to be very troublesome.
Tell me everything about it,' he added kindly; 'if you require my assistance, conceal nothing.'
'You tell him,' said Michael, feeling, apparently, that he had done his share. 'My friend will tell you all about it,' he added to Gideon, with a yawn. 'Excuse my closing my eyes a moment; I've been sitting up with a sick friend.'
Pitman gazed blankly about the room; rage and despair seethed in his innocent spirit; thoughts of flight, thoughts even of suicide, came and went before him; and still the barrister patiently waited, and still the artist groped in vain for any form of words, however insignificant.
'It's a breach of promise case,' he said at last, in a low voice.
'I--I am threatened with a breach of promise case.' Here, in desperate quest of inspiration, he made a clutch at his beard; his fingers closed upon the unfamiliar smoothness of a shaven chin; and with that, hope and courage (if such expressions could ever have been appropriate in the case of Pitman) conjointly fled. He shook Michael roughly. 'Wake up!' he cried, with genuine irritation in his tones. 'I cannot do it, and you know I can't.'
'You must excuse my friend,' said Michael; 'he's no hand as a narrator of stirring incident. The case is ******,' he went on.
'My friend is a man of very strong passions, and accustomed to a ******, patriarchal style of life. You see the thing from here: unfortunate visit to Europe, followed by unfortunate acquaintance with sham foreign count, who has a lovely daughter. Mr Thomas was quite carried away; he proposed, he was accepted, and he wrote--wrote in a style which I am sure he must regret today. If these letters are produced in court, sir, Mr Thomas's character is gone.'
'Am I to understand--' began Gideon.
'My dear sir,' said the Australian emphatically, 'it isn't possible to understand unless you saw them.'
'That is a painful circumstance,' said Gideon; he glanced pityingly in the direction of the culprit, and, observing on his countenance every mark of confusion, pityingly withdrew his eyes.
'And that would be nothing,' continued Mr Dickson sternly, 'but I wish--I wish from my heart, sir, I could say that Mr Thomas's hands were clean. He has no excuse; for he was engaged at the time--and is still engaged--to the belle of Constantinople, Ga.
My friend's conduct was unworthy of the brutes that perish.'
'Ga.?' repeated Gideon enquiringly.
'A contraction in current use,' said Michael. 'Ga. for Georgia, in The same way as Co. for Company.'
'I was aware it was sometimes so written,' returned the barrister, 'but not that it was so pronounced.'
'Fact, I assure you,' said Michael. 'You now see for yourself, sir, that if this unhappy person is to be saved, some devilish sharp practice will be needed. There's money, and no desire to spare it. Mr Thomas could write a cheque tomorrow for a hundred thousand. And, Mr Forsyth, there's better than money. The foreign count--Count Tarnow, he calls himself--was formerly a tobacconist in Bayswater, and passed under the humble but expressive name of Schmidt; his daughter--if she is his daughter--there's another point--make a note of that, Mr Forsyth--his daughter at that time actually served in the shop--and she now proposes to marry a man of the eminence of Mr Thomas! Now do you see our game? We know they contemplate a move; and we wish to forestall 'em. Down you go to Hampton Court, where they live, and threaten, or bribe, or both, until you get the letters; if you can't, God help us, we must go to court and Thomas must be exposed. I'll be done with him for one,' added the unchivalrous friend.
'There seem some elements of success,' said Gideon. 'Was Schmidt at all known to the police?'
'We hope so,' said Michael. 'We have every ground to think so.
Mark the neighbourhood--Bayswater! Doesn't Bayswater occur to you as very suggestive?'
