Miser Farebrother (vol 3 of 3) by Benjamin Leopold Farjeon
Miser Farebrother (vol 3 of 3) by Benjamin Leopold Farjeon
At ten o'clock on this morning Captain Ablewhite, unannounced, and without knocking at the door, walked into Jeremiah's room in the hotel at which he had taken up his quarters. Jeremiah was still in bed. Closing the door carefully behind him and turning the key, Captain Ablewhite drew a chair to the side of the bed and sat down.
"This is a bad business," said Captain Ablewhite.
Jeremiah was in a parlous condition. His face was haggard; his eyes were bloodshot; he was shaking like a man in a palsy.
"This is a bad business," repeated Captain Ablewhite, "You are too much upset to reply. But why, oh, why have you lost your head?"
Jeremiah put his hand up, feebly and despairingly, and passed it vacantly over his forehead.
"I have here," said Captain Ablewhite, plunging his hands into the pockets of his gorgeous dressing-gown, "a pick-me-up. It will pull you round, and then we can talk."
He produced two bottles-one containing the pick-me-up, the other soda. Taking a large tumbler from a table he poured a good dose of the pick-me-up into it, and then uncorked the soda, which he emptied into the glass.
"Drink this."
Jeremiah drank it, and almost instantly became for a while clear-brained.
"Better?" asked Captain Ablewhite.
"A great deal better," replied Jeremiah.
Then, for the third time, the jovial Captain-he was as fresh as a two-year-old-said, "This is a bad business."
And still, clear-headed as he now was, Jeremiah did not know what to say in answer to a very plain statement of fact.
"Let me see," said Captain Ablewhite, taking out his pocket-book. "There is nothing like looking a difficulty straight in the face. It is not a bit of good shirking it. What you've got to do is to meet it-and, Mr. Jeremiah Pamflett, meet it you must. Now, then, for the facts. You brought down with you to Doncaster a very comfortable sum of ready money. How much?"
"Two thousand pounds," replied Jeremiah.
"That is right. Speak clearly and plainly. Two thousand pounds. If I had that in my pocket at the present moment, I would double it before the day is over. There's a race to be run-however, let that pass."
"What race?" cried Jeremiah. "Is it a certainty?"
"It is a certainty," said Captain Ablewhite, solemnly. "I've got the tip for the Scurry Stakes, my lad, and the horse can't lose."
"But why not give it to me?" asked Jeremiah, in great excitement. "I could make everything right-everything-everything...." His voice trailed off into a whimper.
"Why don't I give it to you?" said Captain Ablewhite, very calmly. "Because I am beginning to lose my opinion of you. Let me tell you, though: you may justify it yet if you are not thoroughly white-livered."
"I will, I will!" exclaimed Jeremiah. "Only give me the tip-give me the tip!"
"Not if I know it. This little affair I will keep to myself, and I'll sweep the market. You've let too many good things slip by this week. Come, now, confess: if you had stuck to your 'system,' how much would you have won? Don't put me off. You've gone all through it, and you know the figures to the fraction of a shilling."
Jeremiah struck his forehead with his hand. "I should have won seven thousand pounds."
"Exactly. And you did not win it because you weren't game, and because you allowed yourself to be led away. What is the good of a man unless he has the courage of his opinions? Before midnight I'm going to try you; I'm going to see whether you're worth trying to save (because you are in a frightful hole, you know, and there's no telling what will happen to you if you continue to show the white feather), or whether I shall let you go to the dogs. It depends upon me, old chap. Oppose me, show ingratitude, try to prove that you're cleverer than I am, and the odds are that you will have seven years-not less-perhaps fourteen. Oh, you are clever, you are! Make no mistake, you are clever; but you want nerve! Why, if you had been open with me-if you had told me honestly what your system was-we might both have made fortunes. But that's neither here nor there. Things are as they are, aren't they?"
"Yes, they are," sighed Jeremiah.
"Shall I go on?"
"Yes."
"Well, then. You brought down two thousand pounds with you, and you blued it. Eh?"
"Yes."
"I don't ask you where you got the money from. It is no business of mine, and I will have nothing to do with it. I have my ideas, but I'll keep them to myself. Having lost your two thousand pounds, you get me to introduce you to a book-maker, who took your bets in the expectation of paying you if you won, and receiving from you if you lost. And you did business with him in a false name."
"I didn't get you," protested Jeremiah; "you offered to introduce me; and it was at your suggestion I used the name of Farebrother."
Captain Ablewhite rose and said, "Good-morning."
"No, no," cried Jeremiah, piteously; "don't desert me!"
"Did I introduce you, or did you ask me to introduce you?" demanded Captain Ablewhite.
"I asked you-I asked you!" whined Jeremiah.
"And did you use Farebrother's name upon my suggestion? Be careful, old chap."
"At my own suggestion," faltered Jeremiah.
"Good," said Captain Ablewhite, resuming his seat. "You made bets with him, and you are in his books over three thousand pounds. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"I have I O U's for another two thousand pounds. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"It is a satisfaction. You hold acceptances of mine for close on that amount, and the entire amount of cash I have received from you is about one-fourth of that amount."
"Business is business," groaned Jeremiah.
"All right. I didn't complain, and I don't. You and I are pretty well squared on that account. Taking it altogether, you have lost this week some seven thousand pounds, when you might have won as much."
"Oh, Lord!" gasped Jeremiah.
"You may clasp your head till you're blue in the face, and that won't get you out of the hole. Do you want to get out of it?"
"Yes; of course I do."
"Then," said Captain Ablewhite, enigmatically, "take the 1.33 train to London. You will get there at five o'clock. Have a bath and a sensible dinner, and meet me outside the Langham Hotel, on the opposite side of the road, at nine o'clock to-night. It may be in my power to save you. No words. If you do not obey me I have done with you. Yes or no?"
"Yes," said Jeremiah.
* * *
Arabella, a state-trained prodigy, won freedom after seven brutal years. Back home, she found her aunt basking in her late parents' mansion while her twin sister scrounged for scraps. Fury ignited her genius. She gutted the aunt's business overnight and enrolled in her sister's school, crushing the bullies. When cynics sneered at her "plain background," a prestigious family claimed her and the national lab hailed her. Reporters swarmed, influencers swooned, and jealous rivals watched their fortunes crumble. Even Asher-the rumored ruthless magnate-softened, murmuring, "Fixed your mess-now be mine."
For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.
The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."
For three years, I documented the slow death of my marriage in a black journal. It was my 100-point divorce plan: for every time my husband, Blake, chose his first love, Ariana, over me, I deducted points. When the score hit zero, I would leave. The final points vanished the night he left me bleeding out from a car crash. I was eight weeks pregnant with the child we had prayed for. In the ER, the nurses frantically called him-the star surgeon of the very hospital I was dying in. "Dr. Santos, we have a Jane Doe, O-negative, bleeding out. She's pregnant, and we're about to lose them both. We need you to authorize an emergency blood transfer." His voice came over the speaker, cold and impatient. "I can't. My priority is Miss Whitfield. Do what you can for the patient, but I can't divert anything right now." He hung up. He condemned his own child to death to ensure his ex-girlfriend had resources on standby after a minor procedure.
The night Claire Richards caught her husband cheating, she planned her revenge. She transferred billions in hidden assets, gathered undeniable proof of his affair, and destroyed the mistress's reputation. When Claire handed Lucas Bennett the divorce papers, he tore them to pieces. "Divorce? Not a chance!" Lucas snapped. But Claire only smiled. "The waiting period is over, Mr. Bennett. You're out." Sharp, stunning, and done playing nice, Claire steps into a world dominated by two powerful men: her furious ex-husband and the cold, mysterious CEO feared by all. But this time, she's calling the shots. Watch as a clear-headed woman takes control, turns heartbreak into strength, and brings the man who once cast her aside to his knees.
Three years ago, Scarlett traded her act of saving Asher's life for a marriage. Throughout their marriage, she gave up her own needs to care for him, losing herself in the process. Her devotion never earned her true affection-he saw her as nothing more than a gold-digger, his heart fixed on someone else. When the woman he loved returned, Scarlett quietly chose to step aside, ready to reclaim her own life. But after the divorce, the cold, controlling man she once loved couldn't let her go. He cornered her, his voice low and fierce. "You can only be mine!"
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