Sawn Off: A Tale of a Family Tree

“That’s soon done,” said Dick, throwing open the door. “Here, John – a lighter.”

The boy took a taper to the hall lamp, and a couple of the burners in the breakfast-room being lit, they entered, to discover nothing.

“There,” said Dick, wiping the perspiration from his face, “you see there is no one here. I won’t have any more of your poll-prying about. You pay men to see things, Max, and they see them.”

“That’s an aspersion on my word, sir,” said the private inquirer sharply.

“Serve you right!” cried Dick fiercely. “What do you come watching for? No one else saw, I’ll swear. You saw nobody come in, did you, Hopper? – nor you, Tom?”

Neither answered, and Dick grew more and more excited.

“I won’t have it!” he cried. “I’ll have the house cleared.”

“Without clearing your daughter’s name?” said Max, with a sneer.

“Clear my daughter’s name? It wants no clearing,” cried Dick angrily; and now his nervous, weak manner was thrown off, and he stood up proud and defiant. “Here, stop! You, Tom Fraser, and you, Hopper! I won’t have you go, if it comes to that.”

“I would rather go,” said Tom sadly, from the hall.

“But I say you shall not go.”

“Uncle,” said Tom – and he spoke in a low whisper – “let me go, for Heaven’s sake: I cannot bear it.”

“No,” said Dick sternly; “you shall not go till this has been set right. Do you, too, believe ill of my girl?”

“God forbid, uncle! I only wanted to know that my case was hopeless; and I have heard.”

“Heard what?” whispered Dick.

“What these men told you,” said Tom bitterly.

“Do you dare to say – ”

“I say nothing, uncle – only that what those men have said is true.”

“Here!” cried Dick furiously, “mother, quick! – tell Jessie to come here. Oh, you are there,” he cried, as, hearing a door close on the landing, he looked up and saw Jessie.

“Uncle, for Heaven’s sake think of what you are doing,” cried Tom, catching his arm.

“I am thinking, sir, of clearing her name. My girl would not be guilty of – ”

He stopped short; for he recalled the little incident in the old home.

“I don’t care,” he cried passionately. “I’m driven to it, and it shall be sifted to the bottom.”

As he spoke, he ran up the stairs, closely followed by Max and his private inquirers.

“Mr Hopper,” cried Tom passionately, “this is your doing, to bring me in here. Come away. It is too cruel to her.”

“Hey? cruel? – I don’t care,” said Hopper sturdily. “I’ll see it out; for look here, Tom, and you too, Mrs Richard, – I say, as I’ve said before, she’ll come out of it clear as day. Now, come up.”

He stumped hastily upstairs, Tom feeling compelled to follow, but hating himself for the part he was playing, the result of hanging about the house time after time, for the sake of catching a glimpse of Jessie, and then telling Hopper that evening what he had seen.

The old man had been astounded when, half-frantic, Tom had met him on his way to Richard Shingle’s; and then insisted upon his coming to have the matter cleared up, vowing that there was a mistake.

As the party reached the large landing, Jessie stood in front of the door of her room, the policeman being the last to complete the half-circle that surrounded her; and then Dick spoke.

“Jessie, my darling,” he said, tenderly, “I know this will upset you; but, my girl, when cruel conspiracies are hatched against us by scoundrels, we must meet them boldly.”

“Yes, father,” said Jessie, who did not shrink, but darted a reproachful look at Tom that went to his heart.

“Your uncle, to stab your fair fame, my dear, has brought these men to swear that they saw you let in some one to-night by the breakfast-room window; and they say he has not gone out. Speak out, my dear, and tell them it’s a lie.”

There was no reply, and Mrs Shingle caught at her husband’s arm; but he flushed up with passion and shook her off.

“Jessie,” he cried in a choking voice, “speak out quick! – is any one in that room of yours?”

Jessie looked wildly from face to face, her glance resting longest on those of Max and Tom.

“I say, is any one in that room?” thundered Dick, catching her by the wrist, which she snatched away, and, spreading her hands from side to side, as she stood back against the door, she cried out, wildly —

“No, father, no!”

As she spoke there was a sharp creaking noise from within, as of a sash being thrown up; and Dick once more caught her by the wrist.

“No, no!” she cried, struggling with him frantically. “Tom, dear Tom, for pity’s sake save me from this disgrace!”

Tom dashed forward, and caught her in his arms, more in sorrow than in anger; for Dick had swung her round with a savage oath, throwing open the door, and dashing in with the private inquiry men, to return dragging out a man with a strong resemblance to Tom, till Gilderoy gave his beard a twitch, and pulled it off, revealing the sallow, frightened countenance of Fred.

Volume Two – Chapter Thirteen.

After the Discovery

“Fred!” cried Max, in alarm.

“Yes,” said that gentleman savagely – “if you must blab it out.”

“Tom, Tom,” whispered Jessie, “for your own sake save him, – he is your brother.”

He turned from her with a sigh, as he freed himself from her grasp and placed her hands in those of her mother.

“And this is my child!” groaned Dick.

“Oh, father!” cried Jessie, “don’t condemn me unheard. Frederick, speak out.”

“Not I,” he said cynically. “Why should I?”

“And this is my son!” exclaimed Max, who was completely taken aback.

“There, don’t cant, old man,” cried Fred, brutally. “I don’t suppose you have always been so very particular.”

“Fred!” exclaimed Tom savagely, “it is enough that you have brought this disgrace upon your uncle, without insulting the poor girl you have injured.”

“Bosh! I shall be off,” said Fred, flippantly; and, as he spoke, he made for the head of the staircase, not noticing that a movement had bee made in that direction by the private detectives, the principal speaking to the policeman, who nodded sapiently.

“Stop!” cried Max. “You shall not go without hearing a few words from me. You shall listen, as you are present, to advice that may – ”

“Do him good,” cried Dick, turning upon him savagely. “Give it him, then, in your own place, and not in mine. You coward – you pitiful miscreant! To revenge yourself on me you stoop to this low, beggarly watching; and when your tools warn you of your opportunity, you are such a high-toned moral man that you come with your scoundrels to degrade and disgrace that poor child before her father. I don’t defend her – she did wrong; but I’m not a high-toned moral man, I’m not. I know what she has suffered; and I say to her, ‘Come here, my poor darling – I’m only a weak fool, and I forgive you.’”

“Father!” cried Jessie, and she sprang to his breast.

“Yes – lie there, my darling,” cried Dick, glancing round at all in turn. “Now let’s see who dare say a word against you – or touch you! You’re my gal, and always will be, come what may. I can’t cast you off and say I have no child; but – but, my darling, I’d sooner have been back, a poor man again, in Crowder’s Buildings, and bullied for my bit of rent, than this should have happened.”

“Oh, hush, father – hush!” whispered Jessie – “wait till they’re gone – wait till they’re gone.”

“No, I’ve nothing to be ashamed of,” cried Dick, “without it is of my brother and his sons. All the world may know that I was a poor man who made his fortune, but never lost his ignorant ways. So I forgive you, my gal.”

“Uncle,” cried Tom, “I have given you no cause to speak to me as you do.”

“Well, perhaps not, my lad – perhaps not. I’d take it kindly of you and Hopper, then, if you’d clear the house and then go.”

“I’ll soon rid you of my company,” said Fred. “Ta-ta, uncle. Good-bye, little Jess.”

Dick’s fist clenched as the young man approached him; and Tom saw that Jessie shrank from him as if with loathing, though she watched his movements with a strange, keen interest.

He laughed lightly as he passed, and then started back, for the policeman placed his hands across from the balustrade to the wall.

“One moment, please, Sir. This is your photograph, I think?”

He held up a card, but Fred struck it down and tried to leap past; but the policeman caught him in his arms and forced him back.

“Oh no, you don’t, sir,” said the constable, laughing. “E. Gilderoy, send your men down to keep the door. The fact is, Frederick Fraser, alias Captain Leroux, alias the Hon. Algernon Bracy, there’s a warrant out against you, and two-fifty reward. We only knew this afternoon that you were F. Fraser, and you were to have been took this evening; but the job has fallen to us.”

“Man, you are mad, or drunk.”

“I dare say I am,” said the constable, laughing; “but Mr Gilderoy and me means to have that two-fifty.”

“Father – uncle – Tom! this is a lie – an imposition!” cried Fred, wildly glancing round for a means of escape, but seeing none.

“No, sir,” said the constable; “it was them forged bills was lies and impositions.”

“Constable, this is all nonsense – some trumped-up case!” cried Max. “An invention, perhaps, of the poor boy’s uncle,” he added malignantly.

“Oh no, it is not, sir; the game’s been going on for close upon two years, only my gentleman here has been too clever to be caught. There’s over two thou, been discounted. It’s all tight.”

“Fred,” cried Max, “why don’t you knock this lying scoundrel down?”

“Don’t want to bruise my knuckles,” said Fred carelessly. “There, the game’s up, and I’m sick of it.”

“What?” cried Max.

“It’s all right,” said Fred callously. “I had the cake, so I must pay for it.”

“Reprobate!” cried Max furiously: “do you dare to own to my face that this is true?”

“True enough,” said Fred, taking out his cigar-case. “I can smoke, I suppose, constable?”

“Oh yes, sir, and make much of it,” said the man, grinning. “I don’t suppose you’ll get another – not just yet.”

“Good heavens, that it should come to this!” cried Max, raising his hands toward the ceiling. “Lost, depraved, reckless boy! you bring down your father’s grey hairs with sorrow to the grave.”

“What!” shrieked Fred, with a sneering laugh.

“After the Christian home in which you have been brought up!”

“Look here!” cried Fred. “Slang me, if you like, for being an unlucky scoundrel; but, curse it, give me none of your sickly cant.”

“Away with him, constable. Out of my sight, wretch! I disown and curse you!” cried Max.

“Take your curse back,” shrieked Fred savagely. “Example! – Christian home! What of the office? What has been done there? Where is Violante’s money?”

Max stepped back with his jaw fallen.

“Where is the hundred pounds the old man in Australia sent for Uncle Dick? Example, indeed!”

“What?” shouted Dick, starting forward. “Say that again.”

“Say it again!” shrieked Fred, who was now mad with rage: “I say two two hundreds were sent by an old relative in Australia for you and him, and he kept them both.”

“It’s a lie – a base lie!” cried Max, foaming at the mouth.

“Oh, Max, Max, Max,” said Dick sadly, “and when I was close to starving!”

“It’s a lie, I say!”

“It’s the truth, you pitiful scoundrel!” said old Hopper. “But I made you disgorge some of it again, and sent it into the right channel.”

“What, you turn against me, too!” said Max, with a groan. “I say it’s a lie – a conspiracy. No money was sent: there was no uncle to send it.”

“No?” said Hopper quietly. “Well, I can prove it all; for I sent the money, for the sake of Dick here, and to try you both.”

“I tell you it’s a lie!” stammered Max, foaming at the mouth.

“You’ve got to prove it one,” said Fred carelessly. “Come along, constable – let’s be off. Here’s my last half-crown. I’ll go in a cab.”

“Stop!” cried Dick excitedly. “I won’t have it. I forgive Max. I forgive Fred here. I’ve plenty of money, constable. Can’t it be squared? I’ll – I’ll pay the reward. Cash down.”

“No, sir,” said the constable; “not if you doubled it.”

“But I will double it,” cried Dick.

“Hold hard, uncle,” said Fred, smiling. “It’s no go. But you always were a trump – always. Thank you for it! Sorry I’ve disgraced you. Tom, old man, it’s all right. Uncle, it’s all right about your little girl here. I came to-night, and she admitted me, thinking it was Tom; and as soon as I was inside I told her the police were after me, unless she could help me to escape. There’s the bag inside, with her purse and the jewels she gave me to sell, watch and chain, and the rest of it; for I was off across the herring-pond if I could get away. Fetch it out.”

Tom ran into Jessie’s room, and brought out a little travelling bag which lay beneath the open window.

“I didn’t like to jump it,” said Fred, laughing. “It was too high: but I should try if I had another chance.”

“Fred – brother!” cried Tom passionately, as he held out his hand; and Fred seized it for a moment, and then flung it away.

“No, Tom; let me be: I’ve always been a bad one. As for you, Jessie – God bless you! you were a little trump. I told her it would disgrace you all, and poor Tom, if I was taken; and she told a lie to save me. Good-bye, little woman!” he said, holding out his hand.

Jessie ran forward and took it, and he tried to speak in a light, cavalier manner; but his voice faltered, and he had to make an effort to keep from breaking down.

“Good-bye, Fred,” said Tom, stepping before him, as if to shake hands. Then, forcing the little bag into his grasp, he whispered, “Run for it, lad – the window. I’ll cover you – run.”

As he spoke, he gave his brother a push into the bedroom, and then faced round with clenched fists.

For a moment the men were paralysed, but the next they flung themselves on Tom.

Gilderoy was nearest, and a blow sent him rolling over; but the constable evaded a second blow, and closed in a fierce struggle, which, taking place at the doorway, prevented the next man from forcing his way through.

Mrs Shingle shrieked; but Jessie stood firm, gazing with dilating eyes at her lover, as he wrestled bravely with the policeman, whom he kept between himself and the second man, still covering his brother’s flight.

They were well matched, and victory might have been on Tom’s side but for the action of Dick, who, seeing the second man about to leap on him, thrust out his foot and laid him sprawling.

It was unfortunate for Tom, though. The man was so near that he tripped over him, and lay for the moment half-stunned; while now all three rushed into the room and to the open window.

“Below there!” cried Gilderoy – “have you seen him?”

“No,” was the reply. “He came down with a crash, though, into the shrubs here, and I think he’s hurt – he hasn’t moved since. Come down, and bring a light.”

Jessie’s window looked down upon a great clump of lilacs, into which it seemed that Fred must have jumped; and, running back to the landing, the three men dashed downstairs, through Dick’s study, into the conservatory, and thence to the enclosed back garden.

As they did so, Fred glided out from behind the window curtains, placed his hand to his lips, and bounded down the staircase, almost into his brother’s arms.

Tom saw the ruse, seized a coat and hat from the stand, and opened the front door.

“Cabstand at the corner,” he whispered. “Walk – don’t run.”

Fred went leisurely out, and as Tom closed the door the private inquiry man came back, and placed himself as sentinel to guard the door.

The search went on for a few moments outside, and then there was a shout.

“They’ve got him,” cried the sentry eagerly. “Got him?” he shouted.

“No,” cried the constable, running into the hall, hot and panting. “He threw a great ottoman out of the window, and didn’t jump. Keep that door; we must search the house.”

The search began, and it was not until every nook and corner had been hunted over that the men stood looking at one another in the hall.

“A pretty mess you’ve made of this, Mr Gilderoy!” cried the constable, at last.

“Two-fifty thrown into the gutter by your bad management,” groaned the other.

“P’r’aps you’d better go and search all London now,” said Hopper, with a sneer, “for he can’t be far off.”

The men turned upon him angrily.

“We haven’t done yet,” said the constable. “We must have some one for this. The law can’t be resisted for nothing.”

“I’m ready to give up,” said Tom quietly.

“You’ll do nothing of the kind,” cried Hopper, hastily pushing him away. “Here, you there! don’t be fools. Come in here. The man’s gone – off by the front door. What have you got to say to that?”

“I must have some one,” said the constable surlily.

“Hey? Have some one?” cried Hopper. “Then have me.”

They followed the old fellow into the dining-room, where a little private inquiry went on; and the result was that soon after they left the house, evidently having forgotten to call Tom’s behaviour into question; while, as for Max, he had not been seen to go, which Dick said was a blessing in disguise, as the encounter might have been painful.

Volume Two – Chapter Fourteen.

Jessie’s Malady

”‘I cannot forgive myself,’” wrote Tom to Richard Shingle – and the latter read the note aloud – ”‘I feel, uncle, that I have wronged her twice in thought most cruelly, and that I dare not hope for her forgiveness till time has enabled me to prove myself more worthy of her – ’”

“Read more loudly, and don’t mumble,” said Hopper, who was present.

”‘Tell her, uncle, that I love her dearly – more dearly than ever; and some day, if she has not made another choice, I may come and ask you all, humbly, if you can forget the past, ignore the misfortunes of my family, and give me room to hope that there is a happy future where at present all looks black.’”

“I’ve read that ten times over,” said Dick, “and hang me if I know what it means. It’s too fine and sentimental for me. Why, if he was half the man I took him for, he’d come down here and say, ‘Uncle, blood’s thicker than water: shall we cry “wiped out” to all that’s gone by? – because, if so, ’ere’s my ’art and ’ere’s my ’and.’”

“Hey?”

“’Ere’s my ’art and ’ere’s my ’and,” roared Dick.

“And what should you say to that?” chuckled Hopper.

“I should say, ‘Tom, my lad, I don’t want your ’art, and I don’t want your ’and, for I’ve got a ’art as is, I hope, a warm one, and I’ve got a ’and to offer to the man I can believe in and trust. Take yours somewheres else, and offer ’em where they may be taken.’”

Dick winked at his friend, and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, where, seen dimly in the farther room, were Jessie and Mrs Shingle – Dick having taken a house at Hastings, and gone down for change, he said, but really on account of the weak state of Jessie’s health; and now he and his friend were having a pipe together in the inner room.

“He’s too cocky,” said Hopper: “he’s as proud as Lucifer. He won’t come and ask till he’s made money, and can be independent.”

“That’s where he’s such a fool,” said Dick. “Of course I’m not going to say ‘Come down and marry my gal,’ who’s dying to have him; but he can have her when he likes; and as to money, why, there’s enough for all.”

“Tom won’t want for money,” said Hopper, blowing out a great cloud.

“Oh, won’t he?” said Dick. “Well, a good job too. What’s become of Fred?”

“Married that violent girl, who was dead on him, and went and joined him as soon as she knew he was in trouble.”

“Did she, though?” said Dick. “Well, ’ang me if I ever liked her, with her twissened eyes, till now; but that was a good one. Hopper, Max spent all that poor gal’s money, which was hard on her. Could you get to let her have a hundred pounds if I give you a cheque? You can come those dodges of sending money on the sly most artfully.”

Hopper chuckled as Dick poked him in the side with his pipe-stem. “No, no, no, Dick, they are in America by now; and Fred will be better without money. Make him work.”

He began to refill his pipe as he spoke.

“I never could make out how it was he got off so easily to America. The police wasn’t half sharp; but it was a good job. How about the extra tradition, as they called it?”

“Hey? Extradition?” said Hopper. “Ha! there was a reason for that.”

He opened his pocket-book, took out a slip of blue paper, folded it, and, striking a match, lit the paper and held it to his pipe.

“I say,” said Dick, “what’s that you’re burning?”

“An old bill,” was the reply – “I’m using ’em up by degrees.”

“An old bill?” said Dick; for Hopper looked at him curiously.

“Yes,” said Hopper, “I’ve done a deal in bills. This is one of ten – of Fred’s: I bought ’em – for his grandmother’s sake,” he added softly.

Dick stretched out his hand, grasped the other’s, and then turned his chair to have a look at a ship in the offing, which seemed quite blurred.

“Pick! Dick!” screamed Mrs Shingle.

“Yes, yes – what?” he cried, starting up and running in, to find Jessie lying white as ashes in her mother’s arms.

“Quick!” cried Mrs Shingle; “tell – tell the doctor – this is the second time to-day! Dick – Dick!” she cried passionately, “she’s dying!”

Old Hopper was the most active of the party; and long before the doctor could be brought Jessie had revived, but only to lie back listlessly, gazing out to sea; while, when the medical man left, it was with a solemn shake of the head, which sent a chill to the hearts of Dick and his spouse.

They had been sitting by their child for about an hour, when old Hopper came in, and stood looking down at her in a quiet, unsympathising way.

“I’ve come to say good-bye,” he said roughly.

“Good-bye?” said Dick. “Why, you only came yesterday!”

“I know, but I’m no good here. Good-bye, my girl. I wish you better.”

She half raised her head to kiss him, and the old man bent down and pressed his lips to hers very tenderly, before leaving the room, closely followed by Dick.

“I know it’s a dreary place to come to, Hopper,” he said; “and we’ve only had one tune-up together; but when she’s – better – Hopper, old man, if I wrote and asked Tom to come, would it be wrong?”

“Hey? Wrong? Yes. Don’t do anything of the sort. Hey? What’s that?”

“Only a letter for Max. I hear he’s laid up. Don’t let him know who sent it – that’s all.”

The old man nodded, and held out his hand.

“Do you know why I’m going in such a hurry?” he whispered.

“No,” was the reply.

“I’ll tell you,” said Hopper. “If your girl’s left like that, she’ll die. I’m going to send her the best doctor in town.” Ten minutes after Hopper was at the station, where he telegraphed one short message, climbed slowly into his seat, reached the terminus in due time, and on being driven to his chambers found some one waiting for him.

“How is she?” cried Tom eagerly, as the cats crowded round their master.

“Dying!” said Hopper briefly.

“Dying?”

“Yes. I’ve come for the best doctor in London.”

“And you sit still there!” cried Tom. “Have you sent him?”

“No,” said Hopper coolly. “Wait a minute. Tom, my lad, do you think you can throw away your pride to save her?”

“I’d throw away my life,” he cried passionately.

“That wouldn’t save hers. Here, take this. Quick – there’s a hundred pounds. Take it, you young fool! Go down at once to her, and throw away all nonsense. Tell her you love her; ask her to forgive you; and – ”

“Yes – yes,” cried Tom. “Go on.”

“And marry her, you young idiot!”

“But a train?” cried Tom despairingly. “It will be too late to-night.”

“You have the money: if necessary, take a special,” said the old man. “What’s fifty or a hundred pounds to happiness, or life?”

Tom caught the old fellow’s hand in his, and it was retained.

“Stop one moment, my lad,” he said. “You feel some shrinking about your brother’s disgrace. I was burning these by degrees. See – the last of the forged bills.”

He took six from his pocket-book, and burned them.

“There,” he said, “that business is dead, and you can go with a lighter heart. Perhaps I shall come down next week. Be off.”

Tom bounded down the stairs, leaped into the first cab, and bade the man gallop to London Bridge station.

“All right, sir.”