The Man with a Shadow

“Oh, that’s it, is it?” cried the squire; “going to win, are you? We shall see.”

“Win? Curse the game! I could give you fifty out of a hundred, and beat you easily. Look here, are you going to let me have that money?”

“No, I am not; mind your play.”

“Then I’ll have it somehow.”

“Burglary?”

“No; I’ll make it so unpleasant for a certain person about some things I know that he shall be glad to lay down the hundred instead of lending it, as one brother should to another.”

The squire’s face grew dark, and the cue quivered in his grasp, as he gazed full at Tom Candlish, the brothers looking singularly alike in their anger. But the elder turned it off with a curious, unpleasant laugh, and leant over the table to make a stroke.

“Don’t be a fool, Tom,” he said, playing. “You always did have too much tongue.”

“Too much or too little, I mean to use it more, instead of submitting to the tyranny of such a mean-spirited hound as you. What the old man could have been thinking of to leave the estate to such a miserly cur – ”

“Mean-spirited hound! miserly cur, eh!” paid the squire, between his teeth.

“Yes; and I repeat it,” cried Tom Candlish, who was furious with disappointment. He found that humility was useless, and that now they had begun to quarrel, his only chance of getting money was by bullying and threats; so without heeding the gathering anger in his brother’s eyes as he went on playing rapidly in turn and out of turn, he kept up his attack. “What the governor could have been thinking of, I say – ”

“Leave the governor alone, Tom,” growled the squire. “He knew that if he left the money to me with the title, the estate would be kept out of the lawyers’ hands, and the money would not be found in pretty women’s laps.”

“But down your throat, you sot!” The squire looked up at him again, and he was going to make some furious retort, when the old butler’s steps were heard ascending the flight of stairs, and he entered the room.

“Can I bring anything else, Sir Luke, before I go to bed?”

“No, Smith,” said the squire; “what time is it?”

“Half-past ten, sir.”

“All locked up? Servants gone to bed?”

“Yes, Sir Luke.”

“That’ll do, then, without Mr Tom wants some more hot water.”

“No; I’m in hot water enough,” growled Tom, lighting a cigar, and the butler withdrew.

For some few minutes there was no sound but the click of the billiard balls, as the squire, forgetful entirely of the game, kept on knocking the red here, the white there, while Tom Candlish paced up and down, cue in hand, emitting regular puffs of smoke, as if he were some angry machine moved by an internal fire.

Doors were heard to shut here and there, and then all was silent in the old place save the regular pacing about of Tom, the squire’s hasty tread, and the clicking of the billiard balls.

“Now, then!” cried Tom, at last; “are you going to let me have that money?”

“No,” said the squire, coolly enough. “I wouldn’t let you have it now for your bullying. I’m a hound and a cur, am I, my lad?”

“Yes, you are a despicable hound and a miserable cur, and if the old man had known – ”

“Let the old man rest,” said the squire, with a lurid look.

“I say, if the old man had known how you were going to spend his money, sotting from morning to night – ”

“He’d have left it to you to spend on the loose, eh?”

“Loose? Why, you are ten times as loose as I am; but you are so proud of your good name that you sneak about in the dark to do your dissipation. I am manly and straightforward in mine.”

“Yes, you’re a beauty,” said the squire mockingly. “Which of those girls are you going to marry – Leo Salis or Dally Watlock?”

“You mind your own affairs, and leave me to manage mine!” said Tom Candlish fiercely.

“But I should like to know,” said the squire, “because then I could arrange about the paper and furniture for the rooms.”

“Do you want to quarrel, Luke?”

“Quarrel?” chuckled the squire; “not I. Trying to be brotherly and to make things pleasant. If it is to be Leo, of course we must have greys and sage greens and terra cottas. If it is to be Dally Watlock, we must go in for red and yellow and purple. How delightful to have the sexton’s granddaughter for a sister! I say, Tom, how happy we shall be!”

Tom Candlish turned upon his brother furiously, as if about to strike; and the squire, though apparently laughing over his banter, and about to play, kept upon his guard.

But no blow was struck. Tom uttered a low sound, like the muttering growl of an angry dog, and smoked quickly, giving the butt of his cue a thump down upon the floor from time to time as he walked.

“I shan’t mind your marrying, Tom; and there’s plenty of room for you to bring a wife to. I shan’t marry, so your boy will get the title – and the coin.”

“Coin?” cried Tom savagely; “there’ll be none left. Do you think I don’t know how you are spending it?”

“Never mind how I spend it, my lad. I only spend what is my own; and if I had spent all, I shouldn’t come begging to you.”

“Lucky for you,” cried Tom Candlish tauntingly. “Look here, Luke, how many years does it take a man to drink himself to death?”

“Don’t know,” said the squire, wincing.

“Well, you’re hard at work, and I shall watch the experiment with some curiosity. I’ve a good chance.”

“Healthier man than you, Tom; and it’ll take me longer to kill myself than it will take you. I shall be a hale man long after you’ve broken your neck hunting.”

“Look here!” cried Tom savagely, “once more: do you want to quarrel?”

“Not I,” said the squire; “and I don’t want to fight. Cain might kill Abel over again with an unlucky blow.”

“’Pon my soul, Luke, if I could feel sure that Cain would be hung for it, I shouldn’t mind playing Abel.”

“Look at that!” cried the squire, as, after a random shot, the red ball went into one pocket, the white into another. “There’s a shot!”

“Yes – a fluke,” sneered Tom. “Your life has been a series of flukes. It was one that you were born first, and another that you ever lived; while in earnest, as in play, it’s always flake, fluke, fluke!”

“Anchor flukes take fast hold of the ground, Tom,” said the squire, with a sneering laugh.

“Yes, and of the money, too,” cried Tom. “Come, I’ll give you another chance. Will you let me have that cash?”