The Scent of Death Read Online Free PDF Page B

gazebo or belvedere. Lizzie would love to play house there. I would describe it to her in my next letter.
    I took up the pen again.
    I have not yet seen much of the house where I am to lodge for I did not arrive here until yesterday evening. It is in Warren Street, not far from King’s College. Judge Wintour was most welcoming and he was gratified to have intelligence of your Uncle Rampton, for whom he entertains the most cordial regard. Pray believe me to be your most devoted servant in all things, ES.
    I rang the bell. A young manservant named Abraham, little more than a boy, showed me down to the parlour where the table was set for breakfast. He said that Mrs Wintour rarely rose before midday, and that the Judge and Mrs Arabella were still in their rooms.
    While I was eating, there was a double knock on the street door. Abraham returned to say that a gentleman had called to see me.
    ‘Me? Is it Mr Townley?’
    ‘No, your honour. A Mr Noak.’
    ‘Very well. You had better ask him to step in.’
    Noak bowed from the doorway. ‘Your servant, sir. I apologize for calling on you so early. I fear necessity has no manners.’
    I had a sudden, uncomfortable memory of vomiting over a pewter platter containing Mr Noak’s dinner, not a fortnight ago. ‘My dear sir, in that case necessity is a welcome guest. Pray join me – have you breakfasted?’
    Noak perched on the edge of a chair. He said he had already had breakfast but would be glad of a cup of coffee.
    ‘I know you must be much engaged at present,’ he said. ‘But I did not know whom to turn to.’
    I guessed that Noak wanted money. People always wanted money. Townley had been right, when he talked at dinner of Congress’s lack of gold, its fatal weakness:
None of us can do without money, eh?
    ‘—so any form of employment commensurate with my skills and small talents, sir.’
    ‘What?’ I said. ‘I beg your pardon, I did not quite catch what you said before that.’
    ‘I said that unfortunately the position I had been invited to fill no longer exists, sir. The gentleman I was to work for has died, and his son has wound up the business. There it is – I have come all this way for nothing, and now I am in want of a situation.’
    ‘I am sorry to hear it. But I’m not sure what I can do to help – except offer you another cup of coffee.’
    Noak shook his head. ‘May I hope for your good offices? You will soon, I’m sure, have an extensive acquaintance here. If you should come across a gentleman who is in want of a clerk – with, I may say, the very highest character from his previous employer in London, as well as considerable experience in the management of affairs both in America and in London – then I beg that you might mention my name.’
    ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure,’ I said. ‘But …’
    ‘I know,’ Noak interrupted. ‘I am clutching at straws, sir. But a man in my position must clutch at something.’
    ‘Of course.’ I liked the man’s doggedness, his refusal to be cowed. ‘Leave me your direction, sir – I will send you a line if I hear of a place.’
    The American took out a pocket book and pencil. ‘A line addressed to the Charing Cross Tavern will always find me.’
    A moment later, he pushed back his chair and said abruptly that he would not trouble me any further. It was clear that asking the favour had not come easily to him, and I liked him the better for it.
    After I had finished breakfast, I was passing through the hall when I heard another knock at the front door. Abraham opened it. A servant was on the step. I heard him mention my name. Abraham took a letter from him and presented it with a low bow to me. I tore it open.
    Mr Savill
    I have just this moment received intelligence that our body yesterday has acquired a name: a corporal on the Commandant’s staff says he is a Mr Roger Pickett, a gentleman newly arrived in New York, who was lodging at Widow Muller’s on Beekman Street (opposite St George’s