‘All this,’ said Sophy, cutting him short, ‘is nonsense and you must know that as well as I do. All that would happen to Mr Rivenhall would be that he would get a great scold, and be indisgrace with his father for a while, and as for being sent down from Oxford, no such thing! They will never know anything about it there, because it is my belief that you do worse things than lending money at extortionate rates to young men, and once I have been to Bow Street, ten to one they will contrive to put you in prison on quite another charge! What is more, the instant it becomes known to the law-officers that you lent money to a minor you will be unable to recover a penny of it. So pray do not talk any more to me in that absurd way! I am not in the least afraid of you, or of anything you can do.’
‘You are very courageous,’ said Mr Goldhanger gently. ‘Also you have much common-sense, as you told me. But I too have common-sense, my lady, and I do not think that you came to see me with the consent, or even the knowledge of your parents, or your maid, or even of Mr Hubert Rivenhall. Perhaps you would indeed inform against me at Bow Street: I do not know, but perhaps you may never be granted the opportunity. Now I should not like to be harsh to such a beautiful young lady, so shall we agree to a little compromise? You will give me the five hundred pounds you have brought with you, and those pretty pearls you wear in your ears, and I will hand you Mr Rivenhall’s bond, and we shall both of us be satisfied.’
Sophy laughed. ‘I imagine you would be more than satisfied!’ she said. ‘I will give you five hundred pounds for the bond and the ring, and nothing more.’
‘But perhaps you have loving parents who would be willing to give me much, much more to have you restored to them, alive, my lady, and unhurt?’
He rose from his chair as he spoke, but his objectionable guest, instead of displaying decent alarm, merely withdrew her right hand from her muff. In it she held a small but eminently serviceable pistol. ‘Pray sit down again, Mr Goldhanger!’ she said.
Mr Goldhanger sat down. He believed that no female could stand loud reports, much less pull triggers, but he had seen quite enough of Sophy to be reluctant to put this belief to the test. He begged her not to be foolish.
‘You must not be afraid that I don’t know how to handle guns,’ Sophy told him reassuringly. ‘Indeed, I am a very fair shot. Perhaps I ought to tell you that I have lived for some time in Spain, where of course they have a great many unpleasant people, such as bandits. My father taught me to shoot. I am not such a fine shot as he is, but at this range I would engage to put a bullet through any part of you I chose.’
‘You are trying to frighten me,’ said Mr Goldhanger querulously, ‘but I am not frightened of guns in women’s hands, and I know very well it is unloaded!’
‘Well, if you move out of that chair you will discover that it is loaded,’ said Sophy. ‘At least, you will be dead, but I expect you will know how it happened.’
Mr Goldhanger gave an uneasy laugh. ‘And what would happen toyou, my lady?’ he asked.
‘I don’t suppose that anything very much would happen to me,’ she replied. ‘And I cannot conceive how that should interest you when you were dead. However, if it does, I will tell you just what I should say to the law-officers.’
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, andthatmeans you may be prosecuted. I enquired of a most respectable jeweller 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 the 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, stupefied. ‘Turnip–?’
But his unwelcome guest had gone.
