 The weird circle. In this cave, by the restless sea, we are met to call from out the past stories, strange, and weird. Bellkeeper, hold the bell, so all may know we are gathered again in the weird circle. Past, phantoms of a world gone by speak again the immortal tale, the queer client. Hello, Edward. What's that? Don't you remember me? What, Lord, love me? Mr. Highling. Forgive me, Governor, it's been so long. And to turn around and find you standing behind me like that, I didn't hear you come up. It's all right, Edward, it's no offence if you mistook me for a ghost. Well, I wouldn't put it like that, not a ghost, but time has a way with all of us, you know. Yes, how well I know. How beautiful the countryside is. I'd almost forgotten how peaceful. This was the only thing she asked of life that she ever got. What was it you said, Edward, when I first brought them here? I mean, I remember, you said... What's the matter with me? How could I forget? What was it again, Edward? What was it? You're tired from your journey, Governor. I must remember. I can't let my mind go on playing tricks on me. Can't you understand that? You aren't yourself, sir. Here, up the path a bit, there's a bench. You can sit down. Come along, sir. I've got it. I remember now. You said this is just the place where a soul would want to rest if it had any say in the matter. Wasn't that what you said? A wonderful memory, sir. Now, here. You sit down. No, no, I must go up on the hill and see them before the sun goes down. There's plenty of time, sir. Time. A man born of a woman hath but a short time and is full of misery. Edward. Yes, Governor? My soul is black with sin. I lived in a hopeless prison now and for all eternity. The sin's been there growing and festering for more than 20 years. It overpowered and possessed me in the darkness of Marshallsea Prison. Prison? Yes. Prison. Prison. But I don't understand, sir. You couldn't understand. No one could unless I were to tell the whole story. Let me take you back. Back to the day I paced the floor of my cell waiting, waiting for her to return. Outside, a cold, heavy, far-crawled of a London like a hideous sweat animal always crawled by. And then she stood there, tears blinding her eyes. She lifted the shawl from over the child in her arms. Well, George, I shouldn't have taken Richard with me this weather. He's been coughing since we left and he's so sick. Forgive me. I only brought him along because I thought that... It might melt your father's heart. Well, I see it didn't. Yeah, the boy's all right. He's just asleep. Are you sure? What? He's feverish, I know. Mary, the strain of all this has been too much for you. The child's just worn because you've been holding him so close, that's all. Now let him sleep. All right, dear. I take it that your father refused to make me alone under any condition. Oh, George, it was horrible. I begged him on my knees, but he just sneered. Said you would never be in debt if you weren't careless and indifferent about business. You don't believe that, do you? I'm surprised he didn't suggest striking a bargain. The cash, if you'd leave, and never see me again. Oh, but no. He'd much rather see me rot here in Marshallsie Prison. There must be something else we can do. Something we haven't thought of. Oh, there's nothing, Mary. What would have been but small change in your father's purse was our only hope. We're trapped, Mary. Well, they can't keep you in this place forever, George. Well, they can't do that to people, can they? It's been known to happen. Yes, and in the name of 19th century English justice which makes misfortune a crime. You mustn't lose hope. Our work can wait and pray. We'll be together soon. I know we will. And you must have faith and believe that, too. Promise me, George. If a little whisper of a thing like you can have faith and not be bitter after everything that's happened, I think I can be just as strong. As long as we love each other, we have nothing to fear, darling. Not even Marshallsie Prison. Nothing to fear. Nothing to fear. But the horrid, stifling monotony of months in Marshallsie Prison with a hard bed and sleepless nights with a rotten food and tasteless meals. Rotten food. I say I can't eat that mess. It's crawling. Marshallsie is very best, my friend. And you'd better get accustomed to it. That mess, as you call it, is all you'll get. It's a wonder the place doesn't come down with scurvy. My name's Dawson, Harvey Dawson, arrived while you were sleeping. I'm George Highling. How do you do? How long have you been here? Two months, I believe. How much have they got you down for? 500 pounds. Well, not very spectacular, Highling. That sum would just about cover the tavern scores I owe. What was your vice? Women? Whiskey? Business failure. Oh, that sounds very dull. Tell me, do we have enormous rats here, too, as some of my best friends have informed me? Yes, we do, Mr. Dawson. Enormous. Oh, well, one consolation. I'll only have to stay till my good parents decide to meet my obligations. They imagine a short stay here will cure my extravagance. If it doesn't, nothing will. Highling, here's your wife to see you. Don't let me disturb you, Highling. I'll stay out of the way. George. Mary, what is it? Mary. I don't know how to tell you. Richard? Yes. During the night, I got up to look at him to see if he was comfortable. You know how his coughing kept him awake. He seemed so peaceful lying there. I put my hand on his forehead. It was cold. Cold. Murder. That's what it is. They killed him, Mary, just to surely as if they'd thrown him in the Thames. He didn't have a chance. He was sick. He needed food, decent care, doctors. I might have given him all that, but they locked me in here. Murderous. Don't. Don't look like that, George. Are you asleep, Highling? Yeah. What? Now look, my good fellow. You go on brooding this way. You'll go mad. Like that poor chap Perkins last month who thought he was King Midas and was turning everything to gold when he touched it. I must see my wife. I haven't heard from her in three days. I've got to go to a Dawson. I'll have the servants call you a carriage immediately, my lord. She's been ill. The same cough the child had. Oh, hold on. Down there in the prison yard. Isn't that Mrs. Highling now? Where? There, just going in. Mary. She doesn't look herself at that. But she must be all right if she could walk all the way here. Of course. Now straighten yourself up a bit. Try to appear serene and dignified so you won't worry the poor women out of her wits. Play the unconquerable martyr. Dignity now. It's the one unattachable asset of a bankrupt. Where is she? She couldn't very well fly up the stairs, you know. Oh, here's the tanky now. There's Mary. Mary, Mary, I was so worried about you. George. Mary, help me Dawson. Get her over to the mattress. George, George. I'm here, dear. Don't move. Where are we? We're together. That's all that matters. I know now. Every time I fall off to sleep, I forget. And everything is strange when I open my eyes again. I'm in martial sea with you. Yes, Mary. But I did get to you, didn't I? Of course. Take me in your arms. Please don't look so hurt. How can I see you suffer and not feel it? There's no pain. I'm not afraid to die, George. I won't have you saying such things. The doctor's told you, hasn't he? Oh, Mary, Mary, life's given you so little. It gave me you. More happiness than I ever dreamt was possible. If anything hurts now, it's the thought of leaving you. But it's God's will and you must bear it for my sake. God's will? Did he will it that I be thrown in prison and our child die for the need of me who could have helped him? And now... George, don't let bitterness destroy you. You'll be lost in darkness worse than this prison, a thousand times worse. You can't leave me, Mary. No, you shall not die and leave me. George, help me to the window. You're too weak. No. Please help me. I must see the sky again. Thank you, George. Let them lay me next to our boy. But swear that when they let you leave here, you'll take us away far into the country where we can rest in peace. Some hilltop where it's beautiful and there's nothing but sky above us. Then you can visit us there. We shall be all alone, safe and together. We'll do that. Anything, Mary. And... Mary. Mary. George. Speak to me another word. One look but one. He's gone. There's big Ben ringing. And another day. Say, Highling, have you been standing at that window all night? You can't go on like this, you know. I told you... A man born of woman, hath but a short time to live. And is full of misery. He cometh up and is cut down like a flower. He fleeth as it were a shadow and never continue with him one day. You're wearing yourself out. Those were the words they read when they put her in the earth. Lost to me forever. In the midst of life we are in death. Of whom may we seek succor but of thee, O Lord, who for our sins are justly displeased. Displeased, Orson, with the sins of the innocent. It's not fair, Orson. I'm going to escape. Don't be a fool. You'll only be caught and then they'll surely leave you in here to rot. As God is my witness, I swear that from this hour I shall devote myself to avenging my wife and my son. Henceforth I shall live only for this. My revenge shall be protracted and horrible. My hatred shall be undying and inextinguishable until my father-in-law has lived through the same hell I have known and worse. I believe you have gone mad. Yes, quite mad, Orson. Mad with anticipation of my hour when it comes. Yes, quite mad. I escaped, Edward, as not of importance. But once I left Marshallsea behind me it was all very simple. No one recognized me for George Highling. No, not the worn-waisted creature that slipped out into the world that night. First I sought out my father-in-law. It was summer and he was at Midhurst, a watering place, with his son. I wanted this man to know I was abroad. Wanted him to know of the fire that now burned within me. I made my way toward the beach where I was told I might find him. And as I approached I saw a figure in the water swimming among the waves. Suddenly with a cry it disappeared from sight. A man on the beach ran toward the water's edge and I was at his heels. Oh, quick, sir. In Heaven's name is my son out there. He's drowning. You? My only son drowning before my very eyes. You must... Highling. Yes, your worthless son-in-law. Highling, my boy. Save him. You can. I've wronged you, I know. Have your revenge, but save my boy. He's too young to die. Well, he stopped struggling against the waves. See? It isn't too late. Have pity, Highling. Listen, old man. I'll have life for life. I need only to stand here and watch. And already I'll have one. Do you remember when you might have lifted a finger to help me? My son. My boy. My son died before his mother's eyes when she was helpless to save him. You might have prevented that, but you laughed when she came to you and asked for a loan that was hardly larger than one of your son's gaming debts. Well, what now, old man? You murderer. You calling me a murderer? And this is only the beginning. I'm not through with you. When I am, you wish you were out there with him. He's dead. Gone. I'm all alone now. That was just fine. His loneliness, like mine, would give him more time to think. Only his thoughts might rest on the plan I had devised for him. Well, might he remember that moment and know that never would I rest until I had crushed him? Never would I rest. Nor did I so much as pause. Good morning, Mr. Canby. Oh, yes. You're Mr. Harper. That's right. I believe this was the time for our appointment. Yes. Won't you sit down? Thank you. Well, Mr. Harper, so you've been in South America the last five years. I gathered from your letter that you found the business of importing hides very profitable. Yes, and pleasantly so. I should say. You see, I took the liberty of looking up your credit at the bank. Oh, yes? Mealier formality, but since you suggested I undertake your legal business... Oh, one particular phase of it, Mr. Canby. Oh, you may as well know that I have taken the trouble to make inquiries about you. Well, that should make us open books to each other. An admirable way to begin an association. I wanted only the best legal aid, and it seems you are the best. I'm flattered. I shall be brief. This is no common business, Mr. Canby. You see this packet in my hand? Well, the papers it contains have been scrupulously gathered by my representative here in London while I was away. I had a purpose. One that means everything to me. Uh, please go on, sir. It has cost me dearly to buy up these papers. Here, look them over. Oh, thanks. They tell their own story at a glance. Hmm, promissory notes. Copies of deeds. Yes? The man whose name you see there has raised huge amounts of money on the strength of those. May I ask, what did you want me to do? Well, I'd better explain in detail. There was an unwritten understanding between this man and the persons into whose hands those papers originally went. An understanding that the loans they represent would be renewed from time to time until a given period elapsed. And you say that no such understanding has been committed to paper. Yes, precisely. And this man has sustained shocking losses on the exchange during the last few years. If these obligations accumulated all at once and he had to pay them, he would be crushed to earth. An impoverished, broken wretch. Oh, and you want me to prevent anything like that from happening? On the contrary, I want you to make it happen. I see, Mr. Harper. Do I see you think me a queer client? Well, I have my reasons which need not concern you. Of course, yes. Then you will proceed at once? These amount to many thousands of pounds. Yes, yes, I'm aware of that. Just one detail. Don't bother me with details. I want you to take every advantage of the law. Use every legal trick that you know to reduce this man to ruin. Slow, lingering ruin. Seize and sell his lands and goods. Drive him from house to house. Then drag him forth a beggar to die in a common jail. But this detail, sir... Very well, what is it? The costs. If the defendant be a man of store, who is to pay the costs? I told him to name any sum he liked. It would be his. I wrote a check for the full amount on the spot and then told him I would wait to hear from him. For results. It was not long when I held in my hand several very interesting documents. Dear sir, this is to inform you that with a present suit against the defendant he will find himself completely without resources. Completely without resources, eh? Dear sir, application for a brief indulgence has just been received from the defendant and has been summarily rejected. Land, house and furniture on the point of being seized. Indulgence. Dear sir, regretfully I must inform you that today the defendant escaped the vigilance of the officer sent to apprehend him. What's this? No, it can't be. I've immediately assigned agents to undertake a search for the fugitive. Escape day. Ah, no, he hasn't. He can never escape from me. Only death can deprive me of the sweet pleasure of seeing him on his knees and the filth of his cell. I instructed Canby that when my father-in-law was found every drop of influence be brought to bear to see to it that he went to Marshallsea prison. In the meantime, I decided to search for him in my own way. Canby! Canby, are you there? Oh, well, here I am, Mr Harper, right here. What is it? Where have you been all this week? While you and the efficient machinery of the law were busy with your bungling, I found him. Really? He's cowering in a pestred and lodging in Camden. Yes, and you know, Canby, perhaps, it's just as well we did lose sight of him. He's been alone there in the most abject poverty. The woman of the house says she has found him picking over the scraps from the kitchen. I see. His apprenticeship for Marshallsea. Well, we will have to take him into custody tomorrow, of course. Naturally. No, wait. Wait. The next day. Hey, but why? You're surprised at my wishing to postpone it? Well, you were so anxious. I had forgotten something. An element which gives the situation a pleasing dramatic effect. You see, the day after tomorrow is an anniversary in his life. It will be done then. Very good, Mr Harper. I can't wait. Will you write down your instructions for the officer? No. No, let him meet me there with you at eight o'clock in the evening. You are now looking upon a happy man, Canby. I wonder. What's that? Nothing. Well, I'll say goodnight. Remember, eight o'clock. We shall have done with this business once and for all. His room is right over there, Canby. Why didn't you let the officer come up and make the arrest? I want to break the news to the old scoundrel myself. I wonder, could I open his door? It's a little without his knowing it. I should like to see how he enjoys his new environment. Look. There, see him? His head and his hands staring at the candle. What heavy thoughts must be running through his mind? Who's there? Wait right here, Canby. I shall be out directly. Very good. Good evening. I trust I'm welcome. Highling. Yes. What now? What fresh misery is this? What do you want here? A word with you. Go away. Go away. You seem to have suffered serious reverses since last we met. Probably I have your malignant prayers to thank for that. Prayers. You underestimate me, old man. I did not pray. I acted. You, you were behind it all. You brought ruin upon me. I told you I would not rest until you were crushed. You're mad. You're not human. If I'm not, it's you who made me so. Oh, get out of here. Get out of here. Not before I have my say. You remember six years ago, this very day? Leave me alone. I claimed the life you owed me for my child's. I said I wanted life for life. But you would have to wait till I had arranged the stage for the second and last act of acquittal. This is it. An officer is downstairs waiting to take you to a new abode. Marshal C, prison. No. No, haven't you done enough? Have pity. I'm an old man. I paid for my sins a thousandfold. Plead with the law, old man. Prison would be the death of me. Hiling, you've had your revenge. This can profit you nothing. If you let them send me to prison, you'll hate yourself more than you hate me. I know. I have nothing more to do with it. No, I won't let them take me. Where are you going? Look at me. Your last look because you will not have the courage to look at my broken body in the street below. Let the memory of this moment settle well in your conscience. This shall be my revenge. You've lost, Hiling. My heart, I... What kind of ruse is this? Get up. You can't touch me now. My heart saved me the trouble. There's nothing wrong with you, old man. I'll account to God for my sins. But you, you must go on. Yes, alone I wish you a long life. Every happiness. Mr Hopper, what's happened? He's dead. His heart. His convenient heart. Well, this is most regrettable. He wished me a long life. Every happiness. George, don't let go. What was that? Did you hear a two-camby? I heard nothing. He's shocked as a nerve you. You've been a thousand times worse. Surely you must have heard it then. As your lawyer, I must get you back to London immediately. I assume it's my responsibility to see that your good name isn't connected with the old fellow's death. He knew he had won. He was laughing at me. His eyes. And it is funny, Camby. Don't you see how funny it is? He's escaped an diamond prison. The prison of my own conscience. And that's the story, Edward. I don't know what to say to you, Mr Highling. Oh, there's no need for words. Oh, look, the sun is sinking fast. Stay here, Governor, with me and the Mrs. This is where you belong. It's bad for you to be travelling in far-off places when your heart is here. No, I must go on once more, until I end life. Would that it be at this place? In the midst of life, we are in death. But that's not for me to decide. Now, Edward, I must go and be with him. Perhaps I shall hear a voice again and she'll forgive me. Who knows? Who knows? From the time one pages of the past we have brought you the immortal tale The Queer Client. Bellkeeper, toll the bell.