The Great Temptation (Thriller Novel). Richard Marsh

The Great Temptation (Thriller Novel) - Richard  Marsh


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as may be. Suppose that I had a situation to offer you."

      "You? Are you in the dried fruit trade?"

      "Not exactly, but I am in trade."

      "May I ask what trade?

      "Oh, I buy things and I sell them, and I buy them again and sell them again that sort of thing." His explanation of the trade he was in was not very clear, but I was not disposed to ask questions; until, as he presently did, he made a remark which startled me. "Are you a rich man, Mr. Beckwith?"

      "No, Mr. Stewart, I emphatically am not. I wish I could say that I was even moderately well off, but I can't. I am poor very poor."

      "Then if that really is the case, I wonder if you'd like to earn five hundred pounds."

      "Would I like to earn five hundred pounds? Wouldn't I!"

      I did not like to tell him that that was a sum which I had been for some time one might say dreaming of. Its possession would mean to me a great deal more than I could put into words. I thought he was joking; yet, though his shrewd eyes danced and his clever face was lighted by smiles, he seemed to be serious enough. He continued:

      "Say inside a month. That is, Mr. Beckwith, would you care to give a month to earn five hundred pounds? Could you spare a month?"

      I drew a long breath; something in his manner made me tingle.

      I could; I could spare a month very well. "Are you a discreet man, Mr. Beckwith?"

      "In business yes. Even Mr. Barnett can't say that I'm not."

      "Who is Mr. Barnett?"

      "He is the man who fired me; the junior partner in the firm of Messrs. Hunter & Barnett; the kind of man who acts first and thinks afterwards. I shouldn't wonder if by now he's sorry that he did fire me, and I shouldn't be surprised to find a request awaiting me to go back again."

      "If you do, will you go back?"

      "Not if I can help it."

      "Will five hundred pounds help you to help it?"

      "It would if I only had a chance of getting it." Mr. Stewart had been perching himself on a corner of the table, swinging one leg in the air; now he came and stood within a foot of where I was and observed me very attentively. His face became graver.

      "I'll give you the chance to earn it if you are the kind of man I think you are."

      "And also," struck in the lady, "the kind of man 7 think you are."

      "I don't know," I told her, "what that is, but I'll try not to disappoint you."

      "I am sure you will. I believe in you and I do not believe in a man for nothing. Although I am only a woman I'm a judge of a man."

      Mr. Stewart spoke before I could.

      "It's because she's a woman that she's a judge of a man. Mr. Beckwith, this lady has the profoundest faith in you: although she arrived at her conclusion a little rapidly, and by methods which I do not understand, her faith inspires me. So I am going to offer you the handling of rather a delicate piece of business."

      "What is it? I should tell you that the dried fruit trade is the only branch of business I know anything about."

      "Well this has not much to do with the dried fruit trade: it's just a question of a trip across the pond."

      "I'm afraid I don't understand."

      "The pond in this case is the Atlantic Ocean. I want you, Mr. Beckwith, to take something for me from London to New York."

      I stared, again wondering if he was joking. To take something from London to New York seemed a trifle; it could not be for doing that that he was offering five hundred pounds.

      "I again fear, Mr. Stewart, that I don't grasp your meaning."

      "It is simple or it will be when I explain. In the first place, tell me one thing can you start tonight?"

      "To-night for New York?" I found the question a trifle surprising. "That does not give me much time to prepare."

      "Leave all preparations to me. Is there anything to prevent your starting?"

      "So far as I am personally concerned no; I should say there wasn't."

      "So far so good. Now, Mr. Beckwith, the proposition is this. If you will leave England to-night by a steamer in which a berth will be provided for you, and all your expenses paid, out and home, and deliver something which I will give you at an address in New York, on delivery five hundred pounds will be paid to you in English money. Is that good enough, and is it plain? You ought to be back in London inside three weeks, so you'll earn your money in less than a month. What do you say?"

      "What is it I am to deliver? It must be something pretty remarkable."

      "It is a case of pills."

      CHAPTER VII

      AT THE RISK OF HIS LIFE

       Table of Contents

      His remark was so puerile, so devoid of sense, that I hardly knew how to take it. I said so.

      "I don't know if you wish me to take you seriously, Mr. Stewart: I scarcely imagine that you are proposing to pay me five hundred pounds for taking a case of pills to America."

      It was a second or two before he answered, but when an answer did come it was drawled, his face being illuminated with what I will call a whimsical smile.

      "Well, Mr. Beckwith, we will call them pills what's in a name? If I choose to pay you five hundred pounds to convey a case of pills or a case of poisons to the United States of North America what difference does it make to you?"

      "I should be unwilling, even for the sum you name, which to me represents a fortune, to carry your poisons."

      The girl spoke. "They are not poisons, Mr. Beckwith. Mr. Stewart jests; he does not always mean exactly what he says."

      Mr. Stewart's smile became more whimsical.

      "What this lady says is the plumb truth; I'm a humorist, Mr. Beckwith. This is what I want you to carry across the pond this and others like it." He drew from his waistcoat pocket what I took to be the small brown pellet which had been concealed in the lining of the drosky driver's coat. "It looks like a pill why shouldn't we call it a pill?"

      "But it is not a pill. Have you any objection to telling me what it is?"

      He and the girl looked at each other. He said to her:

      "You might explain, Darya, how the matter appears to us."

      She acted upon his suggestion.

      "We think, Mr. Beckwith, that it is just as well you should not know. Then if anyone puts to you inquisitive questions you need not commit yourself. Your ignorance will be a defence."

      "A defence? You think a defence will be needed?"

      "My good Mr. Beckwith," this was the man "do you suppose that I'm willing to pay you five hundred pounds for nothing? I will tell you just how the situation lies. It is of the first importance that these pills should reach America and be delivered at an address which I will give you, before a certain date. They are, as you perceive, not large: at this moment they are all in my waistcoat pocket but they are of interest to a good many people. You know for yourself what means were used to get them to England so that they might escape notice. They might have been sent by post: it is doubtful if they would have reached their destination if they had been. A good many people are on the look-out for them: I daresay some of them suspect that they are in this house at this moment."

      An exclamation came from the girl. She was standing up, looking through the window, from which she was distant perhaps six or seven feet, He, moving to her, followed the direction of her glance. I, also, turned and looked. As I did so an uncomfortable little shiver went up and


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