The Talleyrand Maxim | Page 9

there again Pratt
was prepared.
"It might have been about the lease of that property in Horsebridge
Land, sir," he said, glancing at his principal. "He did mention that, you
know, when he was in here a few weeks ago."
"Just so," agreed Eldrick. "Well, you'll let me know if we can be of
use," he went on, as Collingwood turned away. "Pratt can be at your
disposal, any time."
Collingwood thanked him and went off. He had travelled down from
London by the earliest morning train, and leaving his portmanteau at
the hotel of the Barford terminus, had gone straight to Eldrick &

Pascoe's office; accordingly this was his first visit to the shop in Quagg
Alley. But he knew the shop and its surroundings well enough, though
he had not been in Barford for some time; he also knew Antony Bartle's
old housekeeper, Mrs. Clough, a rough and ready Yorkshirewoman,
who had looked after the old man as long as he, Collingwood, could
remember. She received him as calmly as if he had merely stepped
across the street to inquire after his grandfather's health.
"I thowt ye'd be down here first thing, Mestur Collingwood," she said,
as he walked into the parlor at the back of the shop. "Of course, there's
naught to be done except to see after yer grandfather's burying. I don't
know if ye were surprised or no when t' lawyers tellygraphed to yer last
night? I weren't surprised to hear what had happened. I'd been
expecting summat o' that sort this last month or two."
"You mean--he was failing?" asked Collingwood.
"He were gettin' feebler and feebler every day," said the housekeeper.
"But nobody dare say so to him, and he wouldn't admit it his-self. He
were that theer high-spirited 'at he did things same as if he were a
young man. But I knew how it 'ud be in the end--and so it has been--I
knew he'd go off all of a sudden. And of course I had all in
readiness--when they brought him back last night there was naught to
do but lay him out. Me and Mrs. Thompson next door, did it, i' no time.
Wheer will you be for buryin' him, Mestur Collingwood?"
"We must think that over," answered Collingwood.
"Well, an' theer's all ready for that, too," responded Mrs. Clough. "He's
had his grave all ready i' the cemetery this three year--I remember when
he bowt it--it's under a yew-tree, and he told me 'at he'd ordered his
monnyment an' all. So yer an' t' lawyers'll have no great trouble about
them matters. Mestur Eldrick, he gev' orders for t' coffin last night."
Collingwood left these gruesome details--highly pleasing to their
narrator--and went up to look at his dead grandfather. He had never
seen much of him, but they had kept up a regular correspondence, and
always been on terms of affection, and he was sorry that he had not

been with the old man at the last. He remained looking at the queer,
quiet, old face for a while; when he went down again, Mrs. Clough was
talking to a sharp-looking lad, of apparently sixteen or seventeen years,
who stood at the door leading into the shop, and who glanced at
Collingwood with keen interest and speculation.
"Here's Jabey Naylor wants to know if he's to do aught, Mestur," said
the housekeeper. "Of course, I've telled him 'at we can't have the shop
open till the burying's over--so I don't know what theer is that he can
do."
"Oh, well, let him come into the shop with me," answered Collingwood.
He motioned the lad to follow him out of the parlour. "So you were Mr.
Bartle's assistant, eh?" he asked. "Had he anybody else?"
"Nobody but me, sir," replied the lad. "I've been with him a year."
"And your name's what?" inquired Collingwood.
"Jabez Naylor, sir, but everybody call me Jabey."
"I see--Jabey for short, eh?" said Collingwood good-humouredly. He
walked into the shop, followed by the boy, and closed the door. The
outer door into Quagg Alley was locked: a light blind was drawn over
the one window; the books and engravings on the shelves and in the
presses were veiled in a half-gloom. "Well, as Mrs. Clough says, we
can't do any business for a few days, Jabey--after that we must see what
can be done. You shall have your wages just the same, of course, and
you may look in every day to see if there's anything you can do. You
were here yesterday, of course? Were you in the shop when Mr. Bartle
went out?"
"Yes, sir," replied the lad. "I'd been in with him all the afternoon. I was
here when he went out--and here when they came to say he'd died at Mr.
Eldrick's."