Page:Littell's Living Age - Volume 129.djvu/285

Rh my pockets, for it was just the time for the swell-mob to be at their tricks, when the gentleman says to her in a low voice, 'You are not much hurt, I hope?' 'Not much, thank you,' said the lady, in a mincing sort of way — at least I am sure she was not a lady, she had that dreadful cockney accent — it's worse than the chi-chi any day, and it's my belief the falling down was all a sham, — 'not much hurt,' she said; 'would you just help me to a cab?'

"'Perhaps you will kindly do what is needful,' said the gentleman, turning round towards me — for I had come up quite close, you know, to see if I could be of use; and before I could say a word he had handed her over to me, and had walked off, leaving me with this creature dangling in my arms. It's my firm belief, Yorke, the woman was no better than she should be; for as soon as she found out it was one of her own sex who was holding her up, she rose and walked right away, without ever so much as saying 'Thank you,' just as if there was nothing whatever the matter; no more, you may depend, there wasn't. But, dear me, this is not what I wanted to tell you. It was about the gentleman. Colonel Yorke, if you'll believe me, and if I never speak a word again, that gentleman was Falkland, as sure as I am a living widow. I knew him by his voice; you know what a nice voice he always had — low, but so clear; I should have known that voice among a thousand: but when he turned round I saw one side of his face for an instant, the other was all bandaged up, and then I was sure of it, although it was dreadfully altered. As for me, I felt as if I was rooted to the ground, and I thought I should have fainted away; in fact, it is a mercy something did not happen to me, being subject as I am to a flow of blood to the head; and when I got the use of my legs again he was gone.

"You may fancy my state of mind. I came up to draw my pension — for you know I like to look after my own money matters myself, and save bankers' bills — and here I am going on for the third day in town, and living in this expensive hotel too, and I have not been to the India Office yet; and there are the Joneses in South Wales — they are relatives of my poor Jones, you know — expecting me to spend Christmas with them. I really don't know what to do. I have written to Jane Polwheedle, that's my sister-in-law ——"

"Good heavens!" cried Yorke, interrupting her for the first time, "you surely have not written to tell her of this discovery."

"Oh no, my dear colonel," returned Mrs. Polwheedle, looking very sagacious. "I merely said that my nerves had been upset by an accident I saw at the railway-station; but I felt I must find some old friend to talk it over quietly with, or I should break down under the secret. I tried to find out Mackenzie Maxwell — he that was residency doctor at Mustaphabad, you know, and a great friend of poor Falkland — but he has gone out of town. And then I thought of you. I heard you were in England, and I went to Senior's and found that they were your agents, and that you were staying only a few miles off, and they promised to telegraph, and here you are; and I have scarcely been able to sleep a wink or touch a bit of food since this happened. And now I am sure I don't know what is to be done."

Yorke asked if it was long since she had heard of the Kirkes.

Not since Mrs. Kirke came to England, was the reply. Kirke had written himself from Egypt, some time back, to say he hoped to pay what he owed her soon, and mentioned that his wife had gone on to England.

"Then had Kirke borrowed money from you too?"

"No, it was a trifle his wife owed me; it was when we were living together in the hills — after we got away from the residency, you know. Lor' bless you! she had no more notion of money than a child; and if I had not taken her in to chum with me, and managed the housekeeping and all that, the servants would have robbed the very clothes off her back. Well, when the wedding-day came, there was a small balance due on the account, and she, poor thing, came to me and said that she had made over all her money to Kirke, and given him a memo, of the debt, for him to pay at once; and I daresay she believed he did pay it, but he didn't: he got married and went off without paying me; and when I sent him a little reminder to Mustaphabad, he wrote to put me off, and then the smash came, and I didn't like to trouble them. But he wrote afterwards of his own accord from Egypt, as I said, although I have quite made up my mind never to see any more of my money."

"How much was the amount?"

"Well, it was about three hundred and seventy rupees — no great sum to be sure; still, as a poor widow myself"

"That would be about thirty-seven pounds, wouldn't it, Mrs. Polwheedle? I have some funds which have been made available for meeting Mrs. — that is, for