of billiards, followed by some hot Scotch and a cigar, and then went to our rooms, and to bed.
Once in the dark and alone I kept revolving in my mind the events of the day, and of the time since our change of fortune; and naturally fell to speculating as to the most probable manner in which all this wealth had been acquired. Nothing I could think of was satisfactory, and one idea after another was set aside as equally improbable. I suppose I must have fallen asleep when I began to wonder if the receipt he had shown me were genuine. It was an unreasonable doubt, and at variance with my faith in Torrence, and yet it took hold of me as sleeping thoughts some times will. Had I not seen his money? Why should he not have used it for hotels as well as anything else? And yet the thought annoyed me, so that I could not dismiss it; and finally I found myself sitting up in bed, brooding over it. Lighting my candle I walked quietly across the room and entered the salon. Listening at my brother's door for a moment, and making sure that he was asleep, I returned to my own room and dressed. The lights were still burning brightly all over the house, and looking at my watch, I saw that it was only a little past midnight. There could be nothing extraordinary in going to the hotel office and inquiring in a casual way if the rooms had been paid for. It would set my mind at rest to have the verbal assurance of the proprietor that they were. I could not help feeling that it was an underhanded advantage to take of my sleeping relative; but I was driven by a great fear, and after a moment's hesitation, I sped down the stairway into the lobby below. I sauntered into the billiard room, not so much to see if there were any players left, as to assume an appearance of merely lounging about the premises without definite purpose. Half a dozen men were still plying their cues, and I recognized the one to whom Torrence had introduced me. I was invited to join the game, but dread of being led into a carouse deterred me, and after looking on for a few minutes, I said good-night and wandered back toward the office. I walked up and down a couple of times with an unlighted cigarette between my teeth, as if merely seeking diversion, and then going up to the desk, asked some irrelevant questions about the arrivals during the day. My question answered, I turned carelessly as if about to depart, and then as though the thought had suddenly presented itself, looked back, and said:
"Oh! by the by; did I understand correctly that my brother, Mr. Torrence Attlebridge, had settled for our apartments?"
The clerk did not have to refer to his books, but answered promptly with a pleased smile:
"Oh, yes, sir. Everything is settled for in full. Your brother has paid in advance for two months. He has our receipt for the amount – three hundred pounds. They are our very best apartments, sir; decorated by LeBrune, and furnished by Haltzeimer entirely regardless – I hope Mr. Attlebridge finds everything satisfactory!"
I assured him that everything was just as we desired and went away comforted, with the exception of wishing that I had the money instead of the rooms. But such thoughts were idle; I was in Torrence's hands.
After loitering about the smoking room for a few minutes, I returned to my room, and to bed.
V
When I got up in the morning Torrence had gone. He had left without disturbing me, as he said he should, the journey to Gravesend requiring an early start.
I determined to put in the day writing, having evolved some ideas which I thought might suit a certain American journal; but it is astonishing when the necessity for work has been removed, how indifferent we become to it. Every effort seemed absolutely futile, and after an hour, I put away my writing materials and went out for a drive in the park. I could see that my brother's new outfit was greatly admired, and I leaned back upon the satin cushions, conscious that I was looked upon as an important person – possibly a duke. I lunched at a fashionable restaurant near the marble arch, and then, after a drive along Edgeware road, returned to the hotel.
The mail was just in, and there was a large batch of letters and papers for Torrence. Some of these were unsealed; presumably advertisements, and as such I examined them. But the examination was disappointing, only serving to whet my interest, and enhance my wonder. For what was here? Unaccountable scribbling – such extraordinary charts and figures – such attempts at drawing of birds and unknown animals – such efforts at natural scenery – and withal such crude and childish explanations, in such outlandish chirography, that it was quite impossible to say whether the work was that of a madman or not. Indeed I was by no means sure what any one of the designs was really intended to mean. I pored over these papers for more than an hour, in the very ecstasy of wonder, and then without having reached a single conclusion, put them back in the envelopes to await the owner's arrival.
I tried to believe that the drawings referred to some of the more intricate parts of the air ship; although it was impossible to help feeling that this was absurd.
About an hour before dinner Torrence arrived, cheery as ever. I gave him his mail, and then seating myself near the window, watched him open it. It is not always easy to interpret the emotions by the expression of the face, but on my brother's countenance I was sure that a comprehensive wonder, a wonder that grasped the meaning of what he saw, was clearly depicted. At one moment he would smile with infatuation; a paroxysm of delight; at the next he would frown, and look frightened at the paper before him, and once he passed his arm roughly across his eyes, as if wiping away a tear. If the papers themselves were mysterious, Torrence's behavior was even more so. When through, he put them carefully together and carried them into his own room.
"Anything important?" I inquired, with an assumed indifference, when he returned to the salon.
"Nothing," he answered, glancing at me, as I thought, with a slight look of suspicion, "nothing only a lot of detailed drawings about the work going on at Gravesend."
I did not answer, but felt sure that he had not told me the truth. Then he went on to speak of various contracts, which he hoped would soon be under way, and which were to be delivered at Gravesend within a month, and of others that would take longer to complete, and all of which were to be put together at Wetherbee's barn as soon as possible. He was afraid the vessel would be longer building than he had at first been led to believe, but concluded that it would not matter very much after all, as the season was not propitious for a trial.
"No," I answered, "I should imagine that warm weather would be better, but then your expenses here would be running on fearfully!"
Torrence sneered at the suggestion. Expense was always the thing he seemed to think of last.
We dined sumptuously again, and after dinner drove to a music hall. Here the usual extravagance was repeated, indeed it exceeded all bounds. Not only did he buy flowers in vast heaps, which he distributed upon the stage; but later went into the green room, and disbursed considerable money among the actresses. His prodigality was so absurd and unmeaning that I finally left him in disgust, returning to the hotel alone. It was quite late when he came in, and I met him in rather angry mood:
"Well, you have made a fool of yourself!" I exclaimed, as he threw himself upon a large Persian musnud to finish his cigar before retiring.
"How?" he asked, quite innocently.
"By throwing away your money among a lot of sharpies, who wouldn't lend you a copper to save your soul!"
Torrence roared, as if he thought it the best joke imaginable.
"Now, look here, old boy," he said in another minute, "don't lose your temper, because it doesn't pay. What's the use of money if not to give pleasure? That's my way of enjoying myself, and I don't either ask or expect any favors in return. As you see, it takes a lot of money to buy my pleasure, but I can afford it!"
"If you have such an income that you can't spend it," I replied, "suppose you give a little of it to me. You might be glad some day if you found that I had saved a few pounds for you!"
The speech would have been contemptible, considering the amount of money Torrence had already given me, were it not for the fact that I intended it for his good as well as my own, hoping to save at least a part of a fortune, which was being squandered so shamefully under my eyes.
"Why, certainly," he answered good naturedly, and half-rising from the lounge, "how much do you want?"
"Anything you have to spare!"
Without