CHAPTER VI.

A WILY YOUNG MAN.

In a small, but comfortably-furnished house at Feltham, lived Mrs. Hoffman and her son, Felix. She was not a widow, but her husband had left her some years before. At that time her son was seventeen, now he was five-and-twenty, and a sore trial and trouble to her. Felix Hoffman was one of many men who prefer idleness to work, and he took good care not to find any suitable employment. It troubled his mother that he was seldom short of money. How did he obtain it? Not by work of any kind, of that she was certain. Once or twice she questioned him as to how he made sufficient to supply his wants, which were by no means few or inexpensive, but he always flew into a passion on such occasions, and his attitude became so threatening that she forebore to make further inquiries.

Felix Hoffman was not bad looking. He had a Jewish cast of features, black curly hair, and a fierce moustache of the same colour. His eyes were dark brown, shifty and uncertain, and when he conversed he seldom looked his companion in the face.

He did not resemble his mother in the least; she was English, and married Milas Hoffman when quite a girl. Had she been more experienced in the ways of the world he would have had but little chance of winning her. A few months after their marriage she found out her mistake. Milas Hoffman called himself a travelling jeweller. He certainly went about the country with a case packed with glittering ornaments, which he disposed of on most advantageous terms to servant girls, young grooms, and others of the same class in different countries. His profits were large, and he made a very fair income out of the gullibility of his customers. He became more daring in his transactions, and at last came within the grasp of the law. Not wishing to face the charges of swindling brought against him, he left England, and his wife had never heard of him since. She did not mourn over his desertion. She had sufficient money by her to carry on for a time, and she fixed her hopes upon her son Felix. They were doomed to be rudely shattered when he coolly told her there were plenty of ways of making money without working for it. What those ways were he failed to tell her, but it saddened her to see that he was right, and he drew supplies from sources she felt sure she could not approve of.

Felix Hoffman met many men in London in very different positions in life to himself. He was a frequenter of racecourses, one of the undesirables whose presence gives the sport a bad name, and its enemies a handle wherewith to pump obloquy upon all connected with it, the just and the unjust. At first he was a bookmaker's tout, and rushed about the ring watching the fluctuation of the odds, scenting out stable commissions and repeating the same to his employer with lightning speed. It was seldom the bookmaker was let in for a big bet "over the odds" when Felix Hoffman was hovering about with hawk-like keenness. The said bookmaker, whose sham diamonds were the envy of the uninitiated, became so impressed with the fertile resources of Felix Hoffman that he actually ventured to take him into partnership "in the book." This was a grave mistake, for in a very short time the versatile Felix had transformed the firm, and his name alone figured on the bag and tickets. The members of Tattersall's smiled; many of them had seen these mysterious changes before and knew what it meant. Felix Hoffman, in his turn, made a mistake. He handed over the "bag" to two men he fancied he could trust, and proceeded to back horses on his own account. He saw no reason why, with his skill in scenting out commissions and spotting genuinely-backed horses, he should not be able to lay the losers and back the winners. Better men than Felix had endeavoured to accomplish this feat before, and come lamentably to grief, and he followed them into the same quandary. It puzzled Felix not a little to find out the cause of his failure. He had not yet learned that to be successful on the turf a man must be either a backer or a layer, but not both, and in the one capacity a good share of luck must be his to succeed.

Warren Courtly was fond of racing, especially "chasing," and during the off-season he was frequently seen at meetings round London. Even the attractions of the hunting field could not, on many occasions, lure him from the racecourse. Irene knew he frequented such places, but she had no idea of the extent of his gambling transactions, or they would have appalled her. She thought his statement that the Anselm Manor estates required a good deal of looking after was an excuse for his visits to London, but, as a matter of fact, he was correct in his assertion. Everything he could mortgage he did, and even the Manor itself had sundry charges upon it, which he found it difficult to meet. The racecourse is a rare levelling ground, and men of very different types fraternise together with a freedom never seen elsewhere. Warren Courtly had noticed Felix Hoffman's energy in ferreting out information, and on more than one occasion had taken the trouble to find out whether he was right or wrong. In this way he gathered that his advice was generally good. He approached him one day at Hurst Park, and asked his advice about Milander in a hurdle race.

Felix Hoffman was not at all surprised at a stranger speaking to him about such matters. He eyed Warren Courtly over, and came to the conclusion it would pay him to tell him all he knew. As luck would have it, he did know Milander was a very fair thing for the hurdle race.

"I'll make it worth your while if it wins," said Warren.

"What will you put me on?"

"I will lay you the odds to a fiver."

"Milander has a very good chance. Dyer rides him, and he told me, bar accident, he would win. I think you can back him for a good stake."

"Meet me here after the race," said Warren, and walked out of the paddock into the ring.

"He's a real swell," thought Felix. "He may come in useful."

Milander won comfortably, and started at the remunerative odds of five to one. Warren Courtly won a good stake, and handed Felix "a pony," the winnings on the five pounds he put on for him.

"I'd give Dyer something, sir, if I were you," said Felix. "He's not a bad sort, and generally tells me when he has a chance."

"Give him this," said Warren, handing Felix a ten-pound note.

"Shall I see you again, sir?"

"I am often at these meetings. If you know anything, come and tell me, and I will see you are a gainer thereby."

It was in this way Warren Courtly became acquainted with Felix Hoffman, who later on helped him in another way, which did not redound to his credit, and which eventually gave that wily young man a hold over the master of Anselm Court.

Mrs. Hoffman was surprised one day when her son brought Warren Courtly down to Feltham. She wondered how Felix became acquainted with him, and still more why his friend condescended to associate with him. She knew her son was not at all a desirable companion for a man of Warren Courtly's stamp.

Felix introduced him as Mr. Warren. "A gentleman I have frequently met on the racecourse, mother; he wishes to consult you on a private matter, and I hope you will agree to his request."

Mrs. Hoffman was surprised, but expressed her readiness to hear what he had to tell her.

"It is rather a delicate matter," commenced Warren, when Felix left the room; "the fact of the matter is, I am anxious to find a comfortable home for my wife until my father can be informed of our marriage. He is very much set against it because the lady is hardly in the same set as ourselves. I have married for love, but that is no reason why I should forfeit the many advantages I now have, and which I should certainly lose if my father found out I was married. My wife is young and pretty, and would, I am sure, cause very little trouble in a house. I asked your son if he knew of any place where I could leave her, in or near London, and he said he had no doubt his mother would be pleased to have her, and he was quite certain would make her comfortable. If you have no objection, Mrs. Hoffman, I should like my wife to have rooms here, and I am sure I could rely upon you to treat her kindly, and be a companion to her."

Mrs. Hoffman was not at all displeased at this proposal, but she foresaw one danger, and that was Felix. She knew him to be utterly unscrupulous, and feared his influence over a young married woman living apart from her husband, for that was what it meant. However, she would take very good care he had no opportunities of making himself objectionable to her.

Warren Courtly noticed the hesitation, and said, "I do not think there will be any trouble over the terms. I know very little about these matters, but if you will make a suggestion I will consider it."

Mrs. Hoffman had no intention of asking too little. Her experience of life had taught her much, and she had her doubts as to the truth of the story she had heard. Still, that was none of her business, and she meant to do her duty by the girl when she came to her house.

"Would three guineas a week be too much, sir? There may be a few extras, which I suppose you would not mind paying for?"

"That is reasonable," said Warren, who had expected a higher figure, "and I hope you will do all in your power to make Mrs. Warren comfortable."

"I can safely promise you that, and that I shall be very pleased to have someone in the house, for my son is generally away from home. When may we expect you, sir?"

Warren named the date, and she replied--

"That is quite close to Christmas. Shall you stay here during that week, if so I will prepare for you?"

"I am sorry to say I shall be away; my father will expect me to be at home with the rest of the family," said Warren.

In due course, Warren arrived at Mrs. Hoffman's house at Feltham with Janet Todd, and she had been there two years living under the name of Mrs. Warren.

Seven or eight months after he had found Janet a home with Mrs. Hoffman, Warren married Irene Carstone, and considered he had done his duty by Janet, and that this discreditable action in his life was closed.

It troubled him when he heard Ulick Maynard was looked upon as the wrongdoer, but he had not the manliness or the courage to confess, and thus place the blame upon his own shoulders.

It was a strange coincidence, he thought, that the Squire should have made this accusation against Ulick on the same night he had planned to take Janet away. He had not much difficulty in persuading her to go, and he knew she was fully convinced he would marry her. This did not trouble him much, his anxiety was to get her away from Hazelwell, because he had at that time made up his mind to marry Irene, if she would have him.

Fate played into his hands, and worked everything smoothly for him. When he heard from Janet that Ulick had been at her father's, and told her the Squire had accused him of being the cause of her misfortune, Warren was astounded. He saw at once how Janet's flight would confirm the Squire's charge, and that everyone would believe she had left her home with Ulick.

"What did he say to you?" asked Warren.

Janet hung her head, and her cheeks became crimson.

"Tell me what he said," Warren asked, sharply.

"He was very angry, and said I deserved to be thrashed for bringing disgrace upon my father; as for myself, it was no more than I deserved. He asked me who had got me into trouble."

"You did not tell him?" said Warren, anxiously.

"How can you ask such a question? Of course I did not tell him."

"That's a good girl, Janet; you must always keep our secret."

"That depends upon how you treat me," she replied, and at this answer Warren Courtly commenced to see it might not be all plain sailing with her.

"Did Mr. Maynard tell you he was suspected of being the cause of your trouble?"

"Yes, and I offered to write to his father and tell him it was untrue, but he was very angry and forbade me doing so, saying his father ought to have known him better, and that he must find out the truth for himself," said Janet.

Warren was relieved at this. He knew Ulick Maynard had a proud, stubborn disposition, and that his father's suspicions would sting him to the quick. It was not at all likely he would ask Janet to prove his innocence, and when she was at Feltham he would have but little chance of finding her, even if he changed his mind.

They arrived in London, and went from Waterloo to Feltham.

"Remember, you are Mrs. Warren," he said, "and do not let anyone find out where you come from. Mrs. Hoffman you will like, but her son is a scamp, and you will do well to avoid him."

Mrs. Hoffman soon grew very fond of Janet, and the girl reciprocated the motherly feelings thus shown. She was not unhappy, but she would have been more contented had Warren allowed her to write to her father and tell him all was well with her. This, however, he strictly forbade; he did not wish her to have any communication with Hazelwell.

The first serious quarrel took place when Warren told her he was to marry Irene Carstone.

Janet wept, and then flew into a rage, vowing she would write to her father, the Squire, and Irene, and confess all. He dare not leave her for a week, and during that time he used all his persuasive powers to calm her, and at times resorted to threats, which she only laughed at.

Eventually he took Mrs. Hoffman into his confidence, and discovered that she had suspected the truth all along.

"I wish you would use your influence with her," he said; "I am quite willing to make her a good allowance, and also settle a sum of money upon her, provided she holds her tongue."

Mrs. Hoffman promised she would do all that lay in her power to bring Janet to a proper frame of mind. She really liked her, and thought she was far happier as she was than if she had married Warren.

She succeeded in her endeavour, but Janet was mercenary when it came to terms with Mr. Courtly. She was determined to have adequate remuneration for all she had lost, and the deception he had practised on her. He grumbled at her demands, but she was firm, and as there was no other way out of the difficulty, except exposure, he gave in.

Janet knew her power over him, and his marriage with Irene materially increased it.

"I wonder what she would do if she knew all?" thought Janet.