Quite impossible! Mark Wylder was the last man
in the world to submit to physical coercion.
The idea, besides, could not be reconciled with the
facts of the case. It was all a blundering chimera.
Mr. Larkin walked down direct to Gylingden, and paid
a rather awful visit to Mr. Driver, of the post-office.
A foreign letter, addressed to him, had most positively
been lost. He had called to mention the circumstance,
lest Mr. Driver should be taken by surprise by official
investigation. Was it possible that the letter
had been sent by mistake to Brandon—to
Captain Lake? Lake and Larkin, you know, might
be mistaken. At all events, it would be well
to make your clerks recollect themselves. (Mr. Larkin
knew that Driver’s ‘clerks’ were
his daughters.) It is not easy to meet with a young
fellow that is quite honest. But if they knew
that they would be subjected to a sifting examination
on oath, on the arrival of the commissioner, they
might possibly prefer finding the letter, in which
case there would be no more about it. Mr. Driver
knew him (Mr. Larkin), and he might tell his young
men if they got the letter for him they should hear
no more of it.
The people of Gylingden knew very well that, when
the rat-like glitter twinkled in Mr. Larkin’s
eyes, and the shadow came over his long face, there
was mischief brewing.
CHAPTER L.
NEW LIGHTS.
A few days later ‘Jos. Larkin, Esq., The
Lodge, Gylingden,’ received from London a printed
form, duly filled in, and with the official signature
attached, informing him that enquiry having been instituted
in consequence of his letter, no result had been obtained.
The hiatus in his correspondence caused Mr. Larkin
extreme uneasiness. He had a profound distrust
of Captain Lake. In fact, he thought him capable
of everything. And if there should turn out to
be anything not quite straight going on at the post-office
of Gylingden—hitherto an unimpeached institution—he
had no doubt whatsoever that that dark and sinuous
spirit was at the bottom of it.
Still it was too prodigious, and too hazardous to
be probable; but the captain had no sort of principle,
and a desperately strong head. There was not,
indeed, when they met yesterday, the least change or
consciousness in the captain’s manner. That,
in another man, would have indicated something; but
Stanley Lake was so deep—such a mask—in
him it meant nothing.
Mr. Larkin’s next step was to apply for a commissioner
to come down and investigate. But before he had
time to take this step, an occurrence took place to
arrest his proceedings. It was the receipt of
a foreign letter, of which the following is an exact
copy:—
’VENICE: March 28.
’DEAR LARKIN,—I read a rumour of
a dissolution during the recess. Keep a bright
look out. Here’s three things for you:—
’1. Try and get Tom Wealdon. He is
a sina que non. [Mark’s Latin was sailor-like.]
Copyrights
Wylder's Hand from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
