Скорбь сатаны / The sorrows of Satan. Уровень 4. Мария КореллиЧитать онлайн книгу.
I had felt a shadow of distrust and repulsion for this fascinating yet cynical man, and he guessed it. But now every suspicion of him vanished from my mind, and I clasped his hand with heartiness.
“My dear fellow, it’s too late!” I said mirthfully. “Whatever you are, I find you most sympathetic to my disposition, and I consider myself most fortunate in knowing you. I assure you I shall be proud of your companionship. You know the old adage, ‘the devil is not so black as he is painted’!”
“And that is true!” he murmured dreamily. “Poor devil! His faults are no doubt much exaggerated by the clergy! And so we are friends?”
“I hope so! I shall not be the first to break the compact!”
His dark eyes rested upon me thoughtfully.
“Compact is a good word,” he said. “I think I can still be of service in pushing you on in society. And love – of course you will fall in love if you have not already done so, have you?”
“Not I!” I answered quickly, and with truth. “I have seen no woman yet who perfectly fulfils my notions of beauty.”
He burst out laughing violently,
“Nothing but perfect beauty will suit you, eh? But consider, my friend, you, though a good-looking well-built man, are not yourself quite Apollo!”
“That has nothing to do with the matter,” I rejoined. “A man should choose a wife with a careful eye, in the same way that he chooses horses or wine, – perfection or nothing.”
“And the woman?” Rimanez demanded.
“The woman has really no right of choice,” I responded. “A man is always a man, a woman is only a man’s appendage. Without beauty she cannot put forth any just claim to his admiration or his support.”
“Right! Very right, and logically argued!” he exclaimed, becoming serious in a moment. “I myself have no sympathy with the new ideas concerning the intellectuality of woman. She is simply the female of man, she has no real soul, she is incapable of forming a correct opinion on any subject. And in the present age she is becoming more than ever unmanageable.”
“It is only a passing phase,” I returned carelessly. “I care very little for women – I doubt whether I shall ever marry.”
“Well you have plenty of time to consider, and amuse yourself with the belles,” he said watching me narrowly. “And in the meantime I can take you round the different marriage-markets of the world, though the largest one of them all is of course this metropolis. Good-night!”
“Good-night!” I responded.
“Amiel, show Mr Tempest to his room.”
Amiel obeyed, and crossing the corridor, ushered me into a large, luxurious apartment, richly furnished, and lit up by the blaze of a bright fire.
“Is there anything I can do for you sir?” Amiel inquired.
“No thank you,” – I answered. “you have been very attentive, I shall not forget it.”
A slight smile flickered over his features.
“Much obliged to you, sir. Good-night.”
And he retired, leaving me alone.
“Geoffrey Tempest, the world is before you!” I said. “You are a young man, you have health, a good appearance, and brains, added to these you now have five millions of money, and a wealthy prince for your friend. What more do you want of Fate or Fortune? Nothing, except fame! And that you will get easily, for now even fame is purchaseable – like love.”
5
The next morning I learned that ‘His Excellency’, Prince Rimanez, had gone out riding in the Park, leaving me to breakfast alone. I therefore took that meal in the public room of the hotel. The servants asked many questions. When would I be pleased to lunch? At what hour would I dine? Should my present apartment be retained? Was it not satisfactory? Would I prefer a ‘suite’ similar to that occupied by His Excellency? All these deferential questions first astonished and then amused me. After the breakfast I saw my new friend coming back from his ride. He bestrode a magnificent chestnut mare. Rimanez smiled as he caught sight of me, touching his hat with the handle of his whip by way of salutation.
“You slept late, Tempest,” he said, as he dismounted. “Tomorrow you must come with me and join the Liver Brigade. In the Liver Brigade you will see all those interesting fellows who have sold themselves to the devil. They think me one of them, but I am not.”
He patted his mare and the groom led it away.
“Why do you join the procession then?” I asked him, laughing and glancing at him. “You are a fraud!”
“I am!” he responded lightly. “And I am not the only one in London! Where are going to?”
“To those lawyers who wrote to me last night. Bentham and Ellis is the name of the firm. The sooner I interview them the better, don’t you think so?”
“Yes – but see here,” and he drew me aside. “You must have some cash. It doesn’t look well to apply at once for advances. Take this wallet. Remember you promised to let me be your banker. On your way you might go to some well-reputed tailor.”
He moved off at a rapid pace. I hurried after him, touched by his kindness.
“But wait, Lucio!”
I called him thus by his familiar name for the first time. He stopped at once and stood quite still.
“Well?” he said, regarding me with an attentive smile.
“You don’t give me time to speak,” I answered in a low voice. “The fact is I have some money, or rather I can get it directly. Carrington sent me a draft for fifty pounds in his letter. I forgot to tell you about it. It was very good of him to lend it to me. Take it as security for this wallet. By the way, how much is there inside it?”
“Five hundred, in banknotes of tens and twenties,” he responded with brevity.
“Five hundred! My dear fellow, I don’t want all that. It’s too much!”
“Better have too much than too little nowadays,” he retorted with a laugh. “My dear Tempest, five hundred pounds is really nothing. You can spend it all on your dress, for example. Better send back John Carrington’s draft. I don’t believe in his generosity considering that he came into a mine[12] worth a hundred thousand pounds sterling, a few days before I left Australia.”
I heard this with great surprise, and with a slight feeling of resentment too. The frank and generous character of my old ‘Boffles’ darkened suddenly in my eyes. Why did not he tell me of his good fortune in his letter? Was he afraid I might trouble him for further loans?
Rimanez, who had observed me intently, presently added,
“Did he not tell you of his luck? That was not very friendly of him – but as I remarked last night, money often spoils a man.”
“Oh I daresay he meant no secret,” I said hurriedly. “No doubt he will make it the subject of his next letter. Now as to this five hundred…”
“Keep it, man, keep it,” he interposed impatiently. “What do you talk about security for? Haven’t I got you as security?”
I laughed.
“Well, I am fairly reliable now,” I said. “And I’m not going to run away.”
“From me?” he queried, with a half cold half kind glance. “No, I fancy not!”
He waved his hand lightly and left me. I put the leather wallet in my inner pocket, hailed a hansom and was driven off rapidly to Basinghall Street where my solicitors awaited me.
I was received at once with the utmost respect by two small men in black who represented ‘the firm.’ At my request they sent down their clerk to pay and dismiss my cab. Then we went into business together. My deceased relative, whom I had never
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