Mr. Goldhanger, forgetting his urbanity, said testily that he did not desire to hear it.
“You know,” said Sophy, frowning slightly, “I cannot help thinking that it might be a very good thing if I were to shoot you in any event. I did not mean to when I first came, because naturally I cannot approve of murder, but I see that you are a very evil man, and I cannot help wondering if a really courageous person would not shoot now and so rid the world of someone who has done a great deal of harm in it.”
“Put that silly gun away, and we will talk business!” Mr. Goldhanger besought her.
“There is nothing more to talk about, and I feel much more comfortable with the gun in my hand. Are you going to give me what I came for, or shall I go to Bow Street and inform them there that you tried to kidnap me?”
“My lady,” said Mr. Goldhanger, on a whining note, “I am only a poor man! You — ”
“You will be much richer when I have paid you back your five hundred pounds,” Sophy pointed out.
He brightened, for it had really seemed for a few minutes as though he might be forced to forgo even this sum. “Very well,” he said. “I do not wish any unpleasantness, so I will give back the bond. The ring I cannot give back, for it was stolen from me.”
“In that event,” said Sophy, “I shall certainly go to Bow Street, because I am persuaded they will not believe there, any more than I do, that it was stolen. If you have not got it, you must have sold it, and that means you may be prosecuted. I inquired of a most respectable jeweler only this morning what the law is with regard to pledged articles.”
Mr. Goldhanger, revolted by this unwomanly knowledge of the law, cast her a glance of loathing, and said, “I have not sold it!”
“No, and it was not stolen from you, either. I expect it is in one of the drawers of this desk, together with the bond, for I can’t imagine why you should have bought such a handsome piece of furniture, unless it was to lock valuables away in it. And it may even be that you keep a gun of your own in it, so perhaps I should warn you that if you pulled the trigger quicker than I did, I left a letter at my home to inform my parents precisely where I had gone to and what my purpose was.”
“If I had a daughter like you, I would be ashamed to own her!” said Mr. Goldhanger, with real feeling.
“Nonsense!” said Sophy. “You would probably be very proud of me, and would have taught me how to pick pockets. And if you had a daughter like me she would have scrubbed your floors for you and washed your shirt, so you would have been a deal better off than you are now. Pray do not keep me waiting any longer, for I am quite tired of talking to you, and, indeed, have found you a dead bore from the outset!”
Mr. Goldhanger had been called a villain, a bloodsucker, a cheat, a devil, a ghoul, and innumerable other hard names, but never had anyone told him that he was a dead bore, and never had any of his victims looked at him with such amused contempt. He would have liked to have closed his long, bony fingers round Sophy’s throat and choked the life slowly out of her. But Sophy held a gun, so instead he unlocked a drawer in his desk, and sought in it with a trembling hand for what he wanted. He thrust a ring and a scrap of paper across the desk, and said, “The money! Give me my money!”
Sophy picked the bond up, and read it; then she put it, with the ring, into her muff, and withdrew from this convenient receptacle a wad of bills and laid it on the desk. “There it is,” she said.
Mechanically, he began to count the bills. Sophy rose. “And now, if you please, will you be so obliging as to turn your chair round with its back to the door?”
Mr. Goldhanger almost snarled at her, but he complied with this request, saying over his shoulder, “You need not be afraid! I am very glad to see you go!” He added, quivering with fury, “Doxy!”
Sophy chuckled. Fitting the key into the lock and turning it, she said, “Well, I really believe I would rather be a doxy than a turnip dressed up in a sheet to frighten silly boys!”
“Turnip?” repeated Mr. Goldhanger. “Turnip — ?”
But his unwelcome guest had gone.
Chapter 12
HUBERT WAS on his way upstairs to his room that evening when he met his cousin, coming down from the schoolroom. She said, “Hubert! The very person I wanted! Wait, I have something for you!” She then went into her own room, and came back in a minute or two, looking mischievous, and said, “Shut your eyes, and stretch out your hand!”
“Now, Sophy, is this something horrid?” he demanded suspiciously.
“Of course it is not!”
“Well, you look as though you meant to hoax me,” he said, but he obediently shut his eyes and held out one hand. Sophy placed his ring and his bond in it, and told him he might now open his eyes. He did so, and suffered so severe a shock that he dropped the ring. “Sophy!”
“What a careless creature you are!” she remarked. “Don’t neglect to burn that silly piece of paper! I very nearly did it myself, for I am sure it would be just like you to leave it in your pocket, but then I thought you would like to see for yourself that it really has been recovered.”
He bent to pick the ring up. “Bbut, Sophy, how — who — how came this into your hands?”
“I had it from your Mr. Goldhanger, of course.”
He gave a gasp. “Had it from — You did not go to that old devil’s house! You could not have done so!”
“Yes, I did. What should stop me?”
“Good God!” he ejaculated. He grasped her wrist, and said sharply, “Why did he give it up to you? Do you tell me you paid him the money I owed him?”
“Oh, don’t give that a thought! I happened to have five hundred pounds by me, and you will pay me back sometime, I expect. There is no need to look so shocked, you silly boy!”
“Sophy, I cannot bear it!” he said, in a strangled voice. “Besides, he lent it to me at fifteen per cent per month, and I know well he would never have parted with my bond for a penny less than was his due! Sophy, tell me the truth!”
“I have done so. Of course, he did not like it very much, but he was obliged to do what I wanted, because I told him I should go to Bow Street if he refused. I think you were very right about him, Hubert! He is probably in league with every thief in London, for the instant I made that threat I could see how uneasy I had made him, so very likely he does not at all wish to be brought under the notice of the magistrates.”
“Goldhanger allowed himself to be frightened into giving up these things? Goldhanger?” he said incredulously.
“Well, what else could he do? I told him it was nonsensical to suppose that anything very dreadful would happen to you, if the whole matter was laid bare; and he knew that if I did go to Bow Street he would never be able to recover a penny of his money.”
“You with that slimy villain! Were you not afraid, Sophy?” he asked wonderingly.
“No, not a bit.” She added apologetically, “You know, I haven’t the least sensibility! Sir Horace says it is quite shocking, and most unfeminine. But, to own the truth, I thought Goldhanger was a ridiculous person. I was by far more afraid of El Moro! He was one of the guerrilleros and a dreadful rogue! He and his men broke into the house one night when Sir Horace was away — but never mind that! People who are forever recounting their adventures are the most tedious persons imaginable!”
“Sophy, he might have done you some mischief — !”
“Yes, but I had my pistol with me, so he very soon thought better of that notion!” she explained.
“Sophy, Sophy, what am I to do?” he exclaimed.
“Nothing. There is nothing left to be done. I must go, or I shall be late for dinner. Don’t forget to burn that paper!”