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Updated: June 3, 2025
In obedience to a rapidly-uttered, whistling signal, fully one-half of the main body swings round and hurls itself with incredible force and fury upon another point of the rock-circle, seemingly the weakest point, for here the rocks are low and apart, and have to be supplemented with bags and bales. Laurence Stanninghame is in command here.
It is probable that some of the most golden-lined, well-nigh divine phases of mind that ever had dawned upon him in his life were shed over Laurence Stanninghame then, as he stood upon that lofty mountain top at midnight in the flooding light of the moon, his gaze meeting the sweet responsive one from the wide opened eyes of this savage.
The furniture was battered and worn, and there was an atmosphere of dustiness, thick-laid, grimy, which seemed inseparable from the place. In the street a piano-organ, engineered by a brace of sham Italians, was rapping out the latest music-hall abomination. Laurence Stanninghame turned again to his wife, who was still seated at the table. "Continue," he said.
"Stanninghame, old chap, I am glad to run against you again!" cried the latter, advancing upon him with outstretched hand. "I begin to believe you are," answered Laurence genially, with a comical glance at the other's beaming countenance. "Why, you actually have a look that way. When did you get here?" "By last night's coach.
That everlasting trying to be sharp is one of the most deadly things a man has to put up with. It's catching eh, Lilith?" was the sneering retort. "But who is it?" said Mrs. Falkner, who was short-sighted, or affected to be. "Oh, the great god, Stanninghame, of course, and his pup, Holmes." Now the ill-conditioned George had stirred up a hornet's nest, for his sister took up the parable.
While he's trying to stand you off in the other quarter, I'm in it, don't you see?" replied the other, with whole-hearted ingenuousness. Holmes had stated no more than the truth. Of all the "rivals," real or imaginary, whom the jealous George hated and feared, quâ rival, none could touch Laurence Stanninghame.
"Stanninghame is acting substitute for you, and we are to be fired out of the country, which is good news to you, I take it." "But I can't allow it!" cried Holmes bewilderedly, as the truth began to dawn upon him. "No, hang it, I can't, tell the king, I " "No good! Keep your hair on! and remember, too, it's more than probable he won't come to any harm. He stands in with them too well."
The idea seems to knock you out some, Stanninghame?" There was something in it. Laurence, reckless, unscrupulous as he was, could not but hesitate. In striving to save his young friend from one form of ruin, was it written that he should plunge him into another more irretrievable, more sweeping, more lifelong? "I am thinking he might give us trouble," he replied deliberately.
"Ah !" Then Rainsford gave a long whistle, and his voice became impressive as he resumed: "Watch it, Stanninghame. From time to time other men have gone up country with Hazon, but not one of them has ever returned." "Oh, that's what you're all down on him about, is it?" The other nodded; then, with a "so-long," he cut across the street and disappeared into an office where he had business.
Darker and darker grew the days, more hopeless the prospect, and soon Laurence Stanninghame found himself not merely face to face with poverty, but on the actual verge of destitution. Grim, fell spectres haunted his waking hours no less than his dreams.
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