The Secret Journey (61 page)

‘Forty-one guineas,' read Anthony from the other side of the window. ‘Forty-one guineas.'

CHAPTER XVI

‘Oh! It's you, is it?' said Daniel Corkran sarcastically, peeping his head round the door. ‘Well, well!' Never in the whole history of Banfield House had there resounded through the house such a clanging, urgent, demanding bell. Mr. Corkran, deeply immersed in a book, brought his reading to an abrupt halt, hurried down the hall, and opened the door. Somehow or other, he seemed to have divined in the very reverberation of that bell who the caller was, and he only partly opened the wide black door and put his head round. Yes, he was right. There he was, standing on the very step. Mr. Peter Fury. He looked hot, agitated, his appearance was dishevelled, he seemed indeed to have come straight from his work. He wore his dungarees, his hands and face were black with oil and grease. He began rubbing his hands on his trousers.

‘Is Mrs. Ragner in?' he asked.

Mr. Corkran, eyes upon the caller, did not answer. This fellow irritated him. For this reason it seemed that he, Mr. Daniel Corkran, must be the very opposite. He must be leisurely, calm, casual, controlled. He did not answer the young man's question at once, but stood behind the door watching him. Finally he said coldly, ‘Mrs. Ragner is
not
in,' and prepared to close the door. He knew that in a few minutes he would have Mr. Peter Fury inside, inside his own kitchen. There were a number of reasons why he, and not Mrs. Ragner, should see this young man.

‘I said Mrs. Ragner is not in,' repeated Mr. Corkran harshly. ‘And supposing she was. Do you think she would see you? Why should she see you? She is not at the disposal of everybody who likes to call—yes, and who likes to tear the bell out of the wall. Now,' he concluded, ‘clear out! When it was in your interest to call here you kept away.' Daniel Corkran put his foot against the door. ‘Good-night.'

‘But I must see her,' said the young man. He was on the step, his eyes upon the bottom of the door. When it moved slightly he quickly jabbed his foot in, and said desperately, ‘I must see her,' and began pushing against the door. Suddenly Mr. Corkran withdrew his weight from it and Peter Fury catapulted into the hall. He felt a hand grip his neck. ‘You can see
me
,' Corkran said. He shut the door, and still holding on to the visitor's neck, he went on:

‘Tell me why you wish to see her? It must be very important! What is it?'

‘You know what it is—you bastard!' With a quick lunge he freed himself from Daniel Corkran's grip. He jammed the man against the wall. Corkran's smile enraged him. ‘You swine! You tried to trap me, didn't you?'

The man looked positively hurt. ‘Why should I trap you? Why should I trap anybody—at least you? Who are you to consider yourself worth trapping? The last time you were here I told you that the next time you called you would see me. D'you remember that? Then here I am! Daniel Corkran. What can I do for you? Please lean off me—do you want me to break your neck?—you swine. D'you know, young man, I've made a discovery. Yes. In fact, I've made two discoveries. But first tell me this. I gave you a note a short time ago—an urgent note, a most important note, I assure you, addressed to your mother. Your mother unfortunately was out. Isn't it strange that she should always be out when I call? In fact, I've only found her in on two occasions, and then only because I was calling with money for her. Well, now you are here, you'll tell me what you did with that note.

‘Yesterday at eleven o'clock Mrs. Ragner did not go to her town office. No. She sat here from half-past ten until twelve, waiting for your mother, who hasn't yet shown her face. Are we not considerate, patient? Think of it. We've obliged your mother time and again, and yet when she is asked to call here—and why shouldn't she, anyway?—she becomes quite indifferent.' Mr. Corkran scratched his head.

‘Dear me! Dear me! Now how can that be? It is unusual. You see, your mother must have learned by now that to be indifferent, to be lacking in appreciation, to fail to have any sense of obligation, does not pay. Why hasn't she come? You know that. Answer me, young gentleman. Why hasn't she come? No! H'm!

‘Then since you won't answer, I'll do it for you. You destroyed that note. How do I know that? Ah! I know everything—and I am interested in things too, even Loco Sheds. Tell me why you flung that demand note in the furnace? Tell me that, and I'll hear what you have to say. Otherwise you can clear to the devil. I haven't the slightest intention of wasting my time on you. The other discovery—well'—and Mr. Corkran smiled. He watched the young man's face. ‘Yes,' he said. ‘I can even tell what you are thinking. I can read your face, young man. You are disgusted! Indeed! And what about? How simple and innocent you are, standing there looking at me. But let your disgust devour itself. Come along! Why did you burn that note?'

‘That is my business.'

‘Is it? Since when has this matter been
your
business? You've made a mistake, Mr. Fury. Privacy, in a matter like this, is almost criminal. It's everybody's business. Mrs. Ragner's, yours, mine, your mother's, all your relations', the other Mrs. Fury's, her relations', your aunt's in Ireland, your dumb grandfather's. Why did you do it? Answer me. Now! Do you suppose I am blind—that I have lived here for nine—ten years without learning what kind of creatures people are, to what depths they will go when egged on by their selfish—their selfishness? Do you know what kindness is? Would you know how to repay it? Wait—one can't talk here. Come this way. I'll tell you what my little discovery was. Also I want you to understand me better. Yes. We must settle this pressing matter. D'you see? A personal one—you go in front! That's right—you are being sensible now.' He followed Peter Fury into the kitchen.

‘Sit down there,' he said. ‘You're what I call an intelligent fool,' said Mr. Corkran. ‘You've been here on two or three occasions, and for a certain consideration you've had money from Mrs. Ragner. When you leave here you go straight to another woman. Lucky fellow who can tamper with two fires at the same time. But is it fair? And now—after the kindness that has been shown you. Yes, and I go so far as to say that this kindness was also extended to your mother, who has shown how to repay it. I have looked after Mrs. Ragner's interests for nearly ten years. Think of that! And naturally I am interested in her. She is a woman who can easily be led away by a person like you. There was my little discovery. I happened, pure coincidence, I happened to be doing some business in the south end of the city, and naturally I called to see your married brother. Purely business. He unfortunately wasn't there. You know the rest. Further, Mrs. Ragner knows this. You can't do things like this, young man, and get away with it. Women are curious creatures. And what is the result? The result is that Mrs. Ragner, on my advice, has decided to call for an immediate settlement of an account that has gone on far too long—far too long!

‘Briefly, she'll put you back where you belong. Understand? Now get out! And understand this. We are doing nothing unusual. We are doing nothing that reflects upon either our dignity or principle. We are merely deciding to bring the matter to a close. Your mother is an impossible client. She's different from any client we ever had. That is why Mrs. Ragner wishes the matter closed. It was not she, but I—yes, I, who made it possible for your mother to get a loan at all. But when it comes to the point of taking a mean advantage of a woman—especially at a time when she least realizes what she is doing—well, it's time to say, Stop! Take that woman away from her money, even for a moment, and she is useless. Her power is gone. It's the only power she has, and it is me who helps her use it. Understand me? I do believe she thought she had fallen in love with you! But how mean you were! Get out! Get out!'

‘You swine! You spied on me! You followed me about! You bastard—you.'

Mr. Corkran gripped Peter by the shoulders and dragged him from the kitchen. In the hall he picked him from the ground and carried him to the door. Still holding him, he opened the door and threw him down the steps.

‘That's where you belong,' he said. ‘On the bottom step. And that's where you'll find that wife of your brother's, if you'll only open those goo-goo eyes of yours and see things for what they are. You're a fool! A fool!' Then he slammed the door. He heard his name called.

‘Corkran!'

‘Coming! Coming now, mam,' he called back, stopping to fasten his shoe.

‘I'm in the front sitting-room,' she called out to her servant.

Mr. Corkran found her seated at the trestle-table.

‘Sit down, Corkran,' she said.

‘Very good, mam,' he replied. He noticed that the large black ledger was open. The woman did not look up at him at all—she was, in fact, very busy studying figures.

‘I have decided to send a final note to that woman in Hatfields. You see, one is absolutely forced—it is now over twenty-four hours since you delivered the note, and she has not been here! I had in mind calling personally.'

‘I am very glad you are closing this account, mam, I've noticed quite lately how worried you looked. You didn't seem yourself, somehow, mam, and if I may say so, I am very, very glad you have made this decision. I feel you'll be your ordinary self again, mam. Of course, it was all my fault really, for I let the woman in.'

‘But her daughter was already on the books here, Corkran. Have you forgotten?'

‘Maybe, mam. But now, speaking of Mrs. Kilkey, I am suddenly remembering. If I may say so, mam, don't you regret your undue consideration, then? I mean, cancelling that surety. I could not understand that, because I remember that only that week I advised you not to renew any more loans for the Hatfields woman. I have had a feeling all along, mam, that they were a troublesome crowd, and I still believe, mam, that this woman will make trouble. I repeat that I am very, very sorry you showed such consideration to Mrs. Kilkey. It's not like you, mam, to do such things.' He looked at her from under his hand as he scratched his forehead.

‘I really believe you admire me, Corkran,' she said.

Yes. There was a look of admiration upon this Corkran's face, and she warmed to it. Then she continued:

‘However, to get back to the present. People do the queerest things. The Kilkeys are no longer under any obligation to us, so we need not concern ourselves there. Yes, I admit, Corkran, I let myself be caught out there. Now I ask myself why I did it.'

‘Only because you weren't being yourself, mam. Kindness caught you out.'

‘Oh no! Not kindness. I should curse myself for a fool. No. I simply don't know. I am only concerned with this woman in Hatfields with whom I have been too lenient, too generous. And now I want the matter settled at once. Do you understand me, Corkran? At once! It is vitally necessary that it should be immediate. There are reasons.'

‘Of course, mam! There are reasons. Don't I know it! Hasn't it worried me very much to see how this woman, who has had loan on loan, could be so indifferent? Why, mam, the woman insults you every time she sends that son of hers, and I'll gamble she's either sent that money or a lame excuse. Oh! I am glad you've made this decision, mam. Somehow it makes me feel happy. It seems like old times again. Our world is spinning round again on its own axis, mam. There is nothing but your money, mam, between you and such people. Oh, I am so glad! So glad! I am only too eager to set about my work. And there are one or two others, mam, who might be called upon for settlement.'

‘Yes, but I shall settle this Fury business myself, Corkran. It will give me the greatest satisfaction in doing so. In a way I am glad to bring the matter to a close. Somehow I have never liked the woman. She's far too proud—she's different to anybody else who comes here for my help, and I hate proud people, Corkran. To-morrow I shall go to the town office for an hour. Then I will return home. I think it necessary to be at hand during the next few days. I want all the documents concerning Mrs. Fury's transactions laid out on the table in the dining-room, Corkran. Now you can go off and make me a cup of tea. Have we any crackers in the house?'

Mr. Corkran nodded his head.

‘Good,' she said, and rose to her feet. Mr. Corkran also got up.

‘There is the bell now, Corkran. I have an idea who this is,' she said with a smile. ‘I can always tell a client by their knock, or the way they ring my bell. Lay supper in the dining-room. Show the visitor into the back sittingroom.' She left the room and went upstairs.

‘Why did she suddenly laugh at me?' Mr. Corkran was thinking as he went to answer the door. Had he seen his own face at that particular moment he would probably have understood, for to Mrs. Ragner he looked everything that a good and faithful dog should be. He opened the door and looked out. Yes. It was her. The woman from Hatfields. ‘Now how the devil did she know that?' he asked himself. ‘And I didn't know it.'

Mrs. Fury was standing on the step looking at him.

‘Is she in?'

‘Is who in?' asked Corkran, lowering his eyes until they came to rest on Mrs. Fury's swollen ankles. ‘Is who in?' He put his hands behind his back and leaned against the wall. ‘You're getting quite a stranger,' he said.

‘Is Mrs. Ragner in?' asked the woman, and she climbed the last of the six steps that graced the front door of Banfield House. ‘I wish to see her, please.'

‘That's better,' said the man. ‘You see, I wondered what you meant. It might have been the cat—but we haven't one. Mrs. Ragner likes to be known as Mrs. Ragner. What is it you want?' he went on. ‘Your son's been doing all the obliging lately.'

‘Will you please say whether she's in or not? It makes little difference to me whether she sees me or not,' replied the woman. ‘I'm not going to stand here like a fool. Besides, I have something else to do,' she concluded.