The Penguin Book of Gaslight Crime - Michael Sims [17]
“You can see for yourself something of the business he does,” he said. “Those are the carriages of his clients, and it is probable that twice as many have arrived on foot.”
“I shall certainly speak to the agent on the subject,” said Carne, with a shadow of annoyance upon his face. “I consider the fact of this man’s being so close to me a serious drawback to the house.”
Jowur Singh here descended from the box and opened the door in order that his master and guest might alight, while portly Ram Gafur, the butler, came down the steps and salaamed before them with Oriental obsequiousness. Carne greeted his domestics with kindly condescension, and then, accompanied by the ex-Viceroy, entered his new abode.
“I think you may congatulate yourself upon having secured one of the most desirable residences in London,” said his lordship ten minutes or so later, when they had explored the principal rooms.
“I am very glad to hear you say so,” said Carne. “I trust your lordship will remember that you will always be welcome in the house as long as I am its owner.”
“It is very kind of you to say so,” returned Lord Amberley warmly. “I shall look forward to some months of pleasant intercourse. And now I must be going. Tomorrow, perhaps, if you have nothing better to do, you will give us the pleasure of your company at dinner. Your fame has already gone abroad, and we shall ask one or two nice people to meet you, including my brother and sister-in-law, Lord and Lady Gelpington, Lord and Lady Orpington, and my cousin, the Duchess of Wiltshire, whose interest in china and Indian art, as perhaps you know, is only second to your own.”
“I shall be most glad to come.”
“We may count on seeing you in Eaton Square, then, at eight o’clock?”
“If I am alive you may be sure I shall be there. Must you really go? Then good-bye, and many thanks for meeting me.”
His lordship having left the house, Simon Carne went upstairs to his dressing-room, which it was to be noticed he found without inquiry, and rang the electric bell, beside the fireplace, three times. While he was waiting for it to be answered he stood looking out of the window at the long line of carriages in the street below.
“Everything is progressing admirably,” he said to himself. “Amberley does not suspect any more than the world in general. As a proof he asks me to dinner tomorrow evening to meet his brother and sister-in-law, two of his particular friends, and above all Her Grace of Wiltshire.”
At this moment the door opened, and his valet, the grave and respectable Belton, entered the room. Carne turned to greet him impatiently.
“Come, come, Belton,” he said, “we must be quick. It is twenty minutes to twelve, and if we don’t hurry, the folk next door will become impatient. Have you succeeded in doing what I spoke to you about last night?”
“I have done everything, sir.”
“I am glad to hear it. Now lock that door and let us get to work. You can let me have your news while I am dressing.”
Opening one side of a massive wardrobe, that completely filled one end of the room, Belton took from it a number of garments. They included a well-worn velvet coat, a baggy pair of trousers—so old that only a notorious pauper or a millionaire could have afforded to wear them—a flannel waistcoat, a Gladstone collar, a soft silk tie, and a pair of embroidered carpet slippers upon which no old clothes man in the most reckless way of business in Petticoat Lane would have advanced a single halfpenny. Into these he assisted his master to change.
“Now give me the wig, and unfasten the straps of this hump,” said Carne, as the other placed the garments just referred to upon a neighbouring chair.
Belton did as he was ordered, and then there happened a thing the like of which no one would have believed. Having unbuckled a strap on either shoulder, and slipped his hand beneath the waistcoat, he withdrew a large papier-mâché hump, which he carried away and carefully placed in a drawer of the bureau. Relieved of his burden, Simon Carne stood up as straight and well-made a man as any in Her