Mr. Wilfer did not object to this addition to his income, though he
still worked occasionally for the picture gang; and it was on one of
their jobs that he came within reach of Jasper Vermont.
One day he had been sent to play the usual proceedings to Mr. George
Harker, presuming, naturally enough, that being a moneylender he was
rich, and hearing that he had a liking for "old masters."
Johann Wilfer saw Mr. Harker, and notwithstanding the changes which time
brings to us all, and the entire transformation of name and
surroundings, recognised him as the father of the girl whom he had once
so cruelly deceived.
The old man never having heard the name of Lucy's betrayer--for she had
purposely kept it from him--knew nothing of his visitor, and eventually
purchased the picture, after consulting with Jasper, who discovered the
imposition at a glance, but saw in the impostor a possible new tool.
He instructed Harker to obtain a written guarantee of the genuineness of
the picture, and Wilfer, being half intoxicated at the time, for once
forgot his usual caution, and gave the required pledge. With that in his
possession, Jasper Vermont had Wilfer in his power, and only left him
undisturbed because he saw no present opportunity of using him.
But when he wanted him he knew that he had only to exert the authority
which the warrant gave him, and Johann Wilfer would be his obedient
servant, as many better men were already.
The picture he intended--through Mr. Harker--to compel one of the firm's
wealthy clients to take as part of a loan, a well-known trick of the
worst class of moneylenders.
Quite unconscious of the sword that hung over him, Mr. Wilfer, after a
bout of hard drinking, went home, and it was in his drunken frenzy that
he had struck Jessica. She, bruised and frightened, fled into the
streets, where Adrien Leroy found her.
Left to himself--for his wife was away for a day or two--Mr. Wilfer fell
into a deep slumber, in which he remained for the rest of the evening.
Early for him, on the following morning he was roused by a loud knocking
at his front door. Now thoroughly sobered, he hurriedly dressed,
stumbled down the rickety staircase, and opened the door, to himself
confronted by Miss Ada Lester. Her face was flushed, and the angry light
Jasper Vermont had called up by his sneers at her vulgarity the previous
evening still shone in her dark eyes.
"Where is the gal?" she asked abruptly.
"The gal!" he repeated, staring at her in stolid amazement.