The Firm of Girdlestone Chapter 18 - Major Tobias Clutterbuck Comes in for a Thousand Pounds

Ashton Hoffman (0:01)

Chapter 18 of The Firm of Girdlestone by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. This Libra Box recording is in the public domain, read by Ashton Hoffman. Major Tobias Clutterbuck comes in for a thousand pounds. John Girdlestone had frequently heard his son speak of the major in the days when they had been intimate and had always attributed some of the young man's more obvious vices to the effect of this ungodly companionship.

He had also heard from Ezra a mangled version of the interview and quarrel in the private room of Nelson's restaurant. Hence, as may be imagined, his feelings towards his visitor were far from friendly and he greeted him as he entered with the coldest of possible bows. The major, however, was by no means abashed by this chilling reception, but stamped forward with beaming face and his pudgy hand not stretched so that the other had no alternative but to shake it, which he did very gingerly and reluctantly. And, how are ye? said the major, stepping back a pace or two, inspecting the merchant as though he were examining his points with the intention of purchasing him. Many is the time I've heard talk of ye. It's real treat to see ye. How are ye? Pouncing upon the other's unresponsive hand, he rung it again with a fusion. I am indebted to Providence for fairly good health, sir, John Girdlestone answered coldly. May I request you to take a seat? That was what me friend Fagin was trying to do for twelve years and ruined himself over it. In the end, he put up at Murphy Town in the conservation interest, and the devil a vote did he get except one, and that was a blind man who sang the wrong paper be mistake. Ha ha ha. The Major laughed bostrously at his own innocence, though mopped his forehead with his handkerchief. The two men, as they stood opposite each other, were a strange contrast. One grave, white and emotionless, the other noisy and pompous with protuberant military chests and rivetscent features. They had one common characteristic, however. From under the shaggy eyebrows of the merchant and the sparse light-colored lashes of the Major, there came the same keen restless shifting glance.

Both were crafty and each was keenly on his gourd against the other.

I have heard of you from my son, the merchant said, motioning his visit to a chair.

You were, I believe, in the habit of meeting together for the purpose of playing cards, billows and other such games, which by no means continence myself, but to which my son is unhappily somewhat addicted. You don't play yourself, said the Major in a sympathetic voice.

Sir, it's never too late to begin, and many a man has put in a very comfortable old age on billows and wits. Now if you feel inclined to make a start, I'll give you seventy-five points and a hundred for a commencement. Thank you, said the merchant, dryly. It is not for one of my ambitions.

Was this challenge the business upon which you came? The old soldier laughed until his memory rinsed, startled the clerks in the counting-house. Be jabbers, he said in a wheezy voice. Do you think I came five miles to do that? No, sir. I wanted to talk to you about your son. My son? Yes, your son. You're a smart lad, very smart indeed, about as quick as they make him. He may be a trifle-cross at times, but that's the spirit of the age, my dear. Sir, me friend Tuffleton of the Blues says that delicacy went out of fashion with hair powder and beauty patches. He's a damn satirical fellow of Tuffleton, don't you know him, eh? No, sir. I don't, Girdlestone said angrily, nor have I any interest to make his acquaintance. Let me proceed to business for my time is valuable. The major looked at him with an amiable smile. That quick temper runs in the family, he said. I've noticed it in your son Ezra, as I said before. He's a smart lad, but, me friend, he's shockingly rash and extremely indiscreet. Yeah, must speak to him about it. What do you mean, sir? asked the merchant, right with anger. Have you come to insult him in his absence? Absence? said the soldier, still smiling blandly over his stock. That's the very point I wanted to get at. He is away in Africa, at the Diamondfield, a wonderful enterprise conducted with remarkable energy, but also with a remarkable rashness, sir. Yes, that is an excusable rashness. Old Girdlestone took up his heavy ebony roller and played with it nervously. He had an overpowering desire to hurl it at the head of his companion. What would you say now? the veteran continued, crossing one leg over the other, and arguing the matter out in a confidential undertone. What would you say if a young man came to you, and on the assumption that you were a dishonest blackguard, appealed to you to help him in a very shady sort of scheme? It would argue indiscretion on his part, would it not? The merchant sat still, but grew wider and wider. And if, on the top of that, he gave you all the details of his scheme, without even waiting to see if you favored it or not, he would be more than indiscreet, wouldn't he?