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tP—wmmmm—■ii\t

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tP—wmmmm—■ in 'URAPPED _n_ By RICHARD RUSSELL, Author of A Nice Predicament for a Curate," Checkmated," The Lady's Dream, &c. [COPYRIGHT.] Joe Flopston, whose proper style and title, as he frequently reminded his two familiar friends, was Joseph Flopston, Esquire and he particularly prided him- self on knowing thing or two." In fact Joe imagined there was scarcely anything that he could not accomplish, but, like many other clever and brilliant men, who have 6 had their fling in days long before Joe's advent on to this dull old earth, as he some- times termed the world we live in, he had ■"ailed in a game wlferein others have come to jrief before hitn. Joe had striven hard to get certain gentle- men of the Jewish persuasion in his power; but instead of Joe having them by the heel, as he expressed it, they had him just now uncommonly tight in their clutches; in plain English, Joe was head over ears in debt to the London Jew money lenders. And that is a pitiable state for any young man to be placed in and that which made matters worse for Joe was the hard fact that be knew but of one man in the whole wide "orld who could extricate him from the iismal swamp of impecuniosity into which he had drifted, and this one man was his ncle, Mr Jeremiah Thorpe, who had it in sis power, as Joe asseverated to a boon com- nion, to put his hands upon thousands of pounds, all in gold, any day of the week and yet this obstinate old curmudgeon, con- tinued Joe, had positively refused to assist him, even to the extent of a few hundreds only. Mr Thorpe was Joe's uncle on his mother's side, and the old man had some- how acquired the reputation of being rich, miserly, and eccentric. He was said to be so suspicious that he feared to entrust his aiouey into the hands of a bank, and it was supposed that he hoarded large sums in his dwelling-house, and in such manner as to be a secret, known to himself alone. Mr Flopston had written several letters to this self-willed and miserly old man, say- ing that his difficulties were of a temporary nature only, that the clouds would soon roll by, and then, on the word of a gentleman, he would repay the sum asked for, and ever afterwards bless the very name of Jeremiah Th orpe. Still the old man could not see the wisdom of lending his nephew so large asum of money, consequently he remamed firm sud obdurate to the last. Desperate men will sometimes do des- perate deeds, and Mr Flopston's affairs naving drifted into a desperate muddle, he determined on a desperate expedient, which was to go down to Hawkwood Hall, the old nouse in Dorsetshire where his uncle lived, and, as the old man had resolutely refused to lend him a few thousands of pounds, he was resolved to help himself. "I must be a fool"—it was thus he reasoned—" if I, a clever man, with all his wits fully developed, cannot contrive to alch a few thousands from an obstinate- head ed, doddering old donkey -• Moreover, I am the old dummy's next of kin there- fore it will only be like helping myself to my own, just a few months or years before che proper time. Why, I have been an ass for having remained quiettso long." Hawkwood Hall was a picturesque old building, surrounded by a moat. Ages ago It was a monastery, and in the basement vaults might still be found some of the stone receptacles in which the old monks bad lain in their everlasting sleep. Joe Flopson when a boy had passed many pleasant days at the old place, and the position of these vaults was well known to nim. But now he had no love for the old house, and but for the desperate straits his affairs were in he would not care if he never saw it again but, as he himself re- marked, when the devil drives we have no choice but to gallop His uncle, Jeremiah Thorpe, was a bache- lor, sixty-seven years of age. A sad disap- pointment in the early days of his manhood had kept him from entering the marriage atate, and the only inmates of Hawkwood Hall besides himself were his staid old housekeeper and one maid-servant. His gardener, an old and trustworthy man, fared in a cottage near the Hall. ♦ • • • Joe Flopston, one dull day in a month of November, travelled by train down to sunny Dorset, and made his appearance at the old Hall. He was on his very best behaviour, hav- ing determined to gam his uncle's good opinion solely for the purpose of ultimately robbing him of his hoarded money. I have recently been very unwell, uncle," said Joe, demurely. Constant worry and trouble have broken me down at last, and I have ventured to come down for a few days only, thinking that change of air and the delightful quietude of Hawkwood would prove beneficial to my health." Very well, Joe," replied Mr Thorpe, "I can only say that you are welcome, and I will request Mrs Badden to prepare a bed- room for you." The old man betrayed neither joy nor Borrow at this unexpected visit of his nephew. Now. Joe had never given his mind to study and probably had never devoted half an hour to any one book in all his life, unless it was his well-thumbed and greasy betting-book but now, on the first evening of his sojourn at the Hall, he displayed a strong inclination for reading, and his mind apparently soon became deeply interested with the contents of a. volume from Mr Thorpe's library. This simple circumstance did not escape the observant eye of the old man. Joe Flopston, reading a somewhat dry book of history, poring over it with avidity, was a strange sight indeed, and the fact was at once noted down, as it were, on the tablets of Mr Thorpe's memory for future reference. Joe felt certain that the old mn had hidden the greater portion of his money somewhere in the old liall, and the problem which Joe had given himself to solve was this to find the exact spot where the money lay concealed, safe from prying eyes and busy fingers. It was an everyday rumour. and had been for years past with the good folk in Draxham, the nearest town to the Hull, that Jeremiah Thorpe hoarded money it1 his house, and it was well-known that he had never once taken the trouble to contro- vert the rumours. Consequently, in Joe's mind the supposition was grown into an established fact Joe was now always on the alert: ever watchful, ever prying, and at the same time as quiet as the dead. The only circum- stance which Mr Thorpe deemed worthy of notice in his nephew's conduct was the love of books and reading which he had recently 10 strongly developed. A great change, indeed," muttered the old man to himself; and one that is truly marvellous. The library was on the first floor of the house, and not far from Mr Thorpe's bed- room and day after day the old man saw hie nephew going in or coming out of the library but he made no remark, and took no further notice of the fact. A young man's thirst for knowledge," thought Mr Thorpe, is a thing to be com- ttiended and in this case I can only hope that the symptoms are genuine." After Joe had been at the Hall five or six daya he became jubilant, but in a very quiet manner. No noisy" demonstrations of joy for him he was too circumspect for that. The cause of his jubilation arose from the fact that he had discovered the exact spot where the old man's money lay concealed. In one corner of Mr Thorpe's bedroom was a large cupboard, the door of which was always kept locked and inside this cup- board was all iron safe and in that iron safe was the old man's hoarded treasure But no person ever went to the cupboard with the exception of the old man himself consequently the keys of both cupboard and safe were always in the old man's posses- sion By constant watching and prying and being always on the alert, Joe had learned this much, and he felt certain that he was correct, or in his own words—that he was on the right scent And now followed the greatest difficulty of all — to Set possession of the keys. Unless the keys of the cupboard and safe could be transferred from the old man's hands into Joe's, the knowledge which he (Joe) had so painfully and laboriously gained would be absolutely worthless. He was bound to have those keys but how was it to be done ? He was a clever feUoir—-ito wtMt thus he reasoned with him. -r 11 H i.'w m self—and if any man could do it, why that man was he. His success thus far had emboldened him, so one afternoon he coolly walked into Mr Thorpe's bedroom and tried the cupboard door. It was locked securely. Never mind, thought he, I must contrive some- how to gain possession of those keys As he turned for the purpose of leaving the room Jeremiah Thorpe himself appeared in the doorway. For a moment Joe's blood ran cold and he shook from head to foot. a Well, Joe," remarked the old man pleasantly and with a smile upon his face, "you have come into the wrong room the library is through the last door down the passage." "Dear me!" cried Joe, with a sigh of relief. And finding that Mr Thorpe was unsuspicious, his natural and unblushing effrontery returned at once, as he added, I have seen so little of the old hall of late years that I really forget my way about!" Now," rejoined the old man. smiling, 44 you are one of the few men of my acquaintance who, in my opinion, do know their way about uncommonly well You disparage yourself, my dear Joe, I oan assure you." "Thank you, uncle, J' replied Joe, as he passed the old man and ran down the wide oaken staircase. The old boy is in a good humour this afternoon," thought Joe, "and how refresh- ingly unsuspicious he is also but he will soon find that I know my way about, and no mistake Joe was resolved not to lose half a chance of gaining possession of the old man's keys and he was again on the alert, astonishingly so. It so happened that Mr Thorpe had occa- sion to go into the town of Draxham, on business which imperatively required his personal attention. Joe, ever on the alert, saw his uncle leave the house, and watched him walk slowly away in the direction of the town and he observed, as he kept his sight on the old man's figure, that he had put a fresh coat upon his back. Joe's heart joyfully bounded in a moment. He has changed his coat," said Joe to himself, and probably the old fool's keys are lying quietly at the bottom of the pocket of his other coat And then Joe's breath came in gasps, short and sharp. He now crept up to Mr Thorpe's bedroom, stealthily. and found, hanging, behind the door, the coat which the old man, only a quarter of an hour ago, had exchanged for the one new on his back. Joe, with trembling fingers, shook the coat keys rattled and Joe's excitement was then so great that every limb of his body trembled as if suddenly stricken with palsy. Joe took the bunch of keys from the pocket, and crept across the room, tiptoe, to the cupboard door. His own discern- ment enabled him to pick up the right key in another moment the cupboard door was wide open, and an iron safe at once met Joe's glaring and greedy eyes. It was almost impossible that he could make an error as to which was the key of the iron safe the largest one on the bunch, of course And now both the cupboard and safe doors are open, and Joe, trembling with excitement, saw bags of gold lying in the safe before lilra He took one bag and poised it in his hand. Heavy said he to himself, I should think so indeed Why, it is crammed so full of sovereigns that the coins cannot chick together On the outside of each bag appeared cabalistic figures; this 500, which clearly denoted that every one contained 500 golden sovereigns 44 Real, bright, golden sovereigns he cried to himself, rejoicingly. He now counted the number of bags. Ten and all with the magic mark of 500 on the outside. He felt very much inclined to cry with grief because he could not stow away in his jacket pockets all the ten bags at once; consequently he would be' com- pelled to take away only five bags at a time. Ten bags," thought he, 44 with five hundred sovereigns in each bag, comes to exactly five thousand pounds And then, as he capered round the room, he apostro- phised his uncle— Oh you dear, good, unsuspecting, and COhfiding old man, bless you, bless ytfti for ever With noiseless footsteps he slowly glided down the staircase left the house by a side entrance, and disappeared into the stone vaults of the basement, where, by thy feeble light from a wax match, he safele deposited the five bags of gold in one of the old monks' stone coffins; and immediately returned to the house in the same stealthy manner, aud took possession of the remain- ing five bags, with which he again came to the vault and deposited with the others, placing a slimy stone slab over the coffin as a lid. I should like to continue at this game for a whole week," thought he exult- in gly. He again returned to the house, and went into the parlour, took up a book, and soon appeared to be much interested in the con- tents thereof and in this way he remained until the return of Mr Thorpe from Drax- ham. Well, Joe cried the old man, cheerily, reading again ? It is wise to endeavour to improve your mind. Better late than never, you know Mr Flopston retired to his bedroom early that evening. He longed to be alone, so that he might either think or dreftrn of the great good fortune which, thanks to his cleverness and perseverance, had fallen to his share. 44 But," thought he, when in the solitude of his own room, 41 my work is not yet over. I must devise some plan for getting safely away from this wretchedly dull hole of a house And now, when all the inmates of the house were asleep and silence reigned supreme. Mr Flopston arose from his bed, threw a dark overcoat over his back, put a piece of candle and his box of wax matches into a pocket, and with his black leather bag concealed beneath the coat quietly descended the stairs, left the house by the side door. and with noiseless footfall crept round to the entrance of the stone vault. After listening for a moment, trembling with fear, he descended into the vault, ignited his piece of candle, and hastily thrust the ten bags of gold into his black bag, intending that the bag, with its contents, should remain there till an early hour in the morning, when he would again come to the vault, take possession of his treasure, and llee away to London by the first up-train from Draxham Station. 44 And then." thought he. "instea.d of eating humble pie to the Jew money-lending crew, if they give me any more of their bluster I will put! their hookey noses and defy them He now returned to his bedroom, and his conscience being easy. as the consciences of all good men are, he enjoyed a few hours' peaceful slumber. I Between five and six o'clock in the morn- ing he again went to the vault with his bit of candle and matches and taking the bag, I heavy with his plunder, from the stone coffin, he was at once ready for London. He had actually got one foot on the step leading from the vault, when his greed of gold and the innate cupidity of his nature induced him to take just one peep at the gold which was now his own. He longed for a feast before starting on his journey a feast of gold and for this purpose he relighted his little bit of candle, placed it on the stone lid of the coffin, I knelt down on the hard damp floor, took one of the bags of gold from the leather ¡ bag, untied its mouth, and poured the gold. as a stream of water runs from a rock, into the palm of his left hand—! A loud and blasphemous oath came from his lips. The things that ran from the bag were not sovereigns at all He bent low over the bit of candle for the purpose of obtaining a better light and eagerly looked again, and yet again—at the worthless j things lying in the palm of his hand—brass buttons and pieces of lead the eighth part of an inch in thickness, and cut round to the size of sovereigns He hastily took up the other bags one by one and tried them all and the contents of all were alike—worthless brass buttons and pieces of lead Sold he cried aloud, and rushed from the vault in a state of mind bordering on madness Not heeding whither he was going, he ran straight into the stagnant water of the moat swam to the other side, with three j or four water rats for his companions and > then scrambled up c bank out of.the it element, with his olothes covered with green and slimy duckweed And in a pitiable state, on that cold November morning, he was discovered, lying on the bare ground, by Mr Thorpe's old and faithful gardener, who had kept watch, in accordance with his master's orders, and had completely bowled out Joseph Flopston, Esquire, whom he now conveyed in a cart without springs to the Red Lion Hotel, in Draxham, telling the landlady that he brought the gentleman there by Mr Jeremiah Thorpe's orders and when they had dried and fed him, they were to take him to the railway station, procure a third-class ticket, and despatch him off to London and Mr Thorpe would be pleased to pay all expenses These instructions were obeyed to the very letter and this was the very last time that Joseph Flop- ston, Esquire, ever saw Hawkwood Hall, in the sunny county of Dorset. Some friends interceded with Jeremiah Thorpe on Joe's behalf and the old man at last consented to make his worthless nephew an allowance of one guinea per week, to be paid every Saturday morning. The last that we heard of the once great and wide-awake Joseph Flopston, Esquire, was that he had died of delirium tremens in the infirmary of St. Giles' Workhouse, in the parish of Bloomsbury, London. Jeremiah Thorpe really was a shrewd man-not a spurious, clever man, like his nephew, Joe—and the old man had divined Joe's nefarious intentions from the first hour that Joe came to the Hall and the clever old man had laid a trap for Joe, into which he fell with the most charming inno- cence imaginable.

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