by Fergus Hume
CHAPTER VIII.
AT MIDNIGHT.
Silver's delivery of his employer's orders to Lord Garvington wereapparently carried out, for no further intimation was given to thegypsies that they were to vacate Abbot's Wood. The master of The Manorgrumbled a good deal at the high tone taken by his brother-in-law, as,having the instincts of a landlord, he strongly objected to the presenceof such riff-raff on his estates. However, as Pine had the whip-hand ofhim, he was obliged to yield, although he could not understand why theman should favor the Romany in this way.
"Some of his infernal philanthropy, I suppose," said Garvington, in atone of disgust, to the secretary. "Pine's always doing this sort ofthing, and people ain't a bit grateful."
"Well," said Silver dryly, "I suppose that's his look-out."
"If it is, let him keep to his own side of the road," retorted theother. "Since I don't interfere with his business, let him not meddlewith mine."
"As he holds the mortgage and can foreclose at any moment, it _is_ hisbusiness," insisted Silver tartly. "And, after all, the gypsies aredoing no very great harm."
"They will if they get the chance. I'd string up the whole lot if I hadmy way, Silver. Poachers and blackguards every one of them. I know thatPine is always helping rotters in London, but I didn't know that he hadany cause to interfere with this lot. How did he come to know aboutthem?"
"Well, Mr. Lambert might have told him," answered the secretary, notunwilling to draw that young man into the trouble. "He is at Abbot'sWood."
"Yes, I lent him the cottage, and this is my reward. He meddles with mybusiness along with Pine. Why can't he shut his mouth?"
"I don't say that Mr. Lambert did tell him, but he might have done so."
"I am quite sure that he did," said Garvington emphatically, and growingred all over his chubby face. "Otherwise Pine would never have heard,since he is in Paris. I shall speak to Lambert."
"You won't find him at home. I looked in at his cottage to pass thetime, and his housekeeper said that he had gone to London all of asudden, this very evening."
"Oh, he'll turn up again," said Garvington carelessly. "He's sick oftown, Silver, since--" The little man hesitated.
"Since when?" asked the secretary curiously.
"Never mind," retorted the other gruffly, for he did not wish to mentionthe enforced marriage of his sister, to Silver. Of course, there was noneed to, as Garvington, aware that the neat, foxy-faced man was hisbrother-in-law's confidential adviser, felt sure that everything wasknown to him. "I'll leave those blamed gypsies alone meanwhile,"finished Garvington, changing and finishing the conversation. "But I'llspeak to Pine when I see him."
"He returns from Paris in three weeks," remarked Silver, at whichinformation the gross little lord simply hunched his fat shoulders. Muchas Pine had done for him, Garvington hated the man with all the power ofhis mean and narrow mind, and as the millionaire returned this dislikewith a feeling of profound contempt, the two met as seldom as possible.Only Lady Agnes was the link between them, the visible object of saleand barter, which had been sold by one to the other.
It was about this time that the house-party at The Manor began to breakup; since it was now the first week in September, and many of theshooters wished to go north for better sport. Many of the men departed,and some of the women, who were due at other country houses; but Mrs.Belgrove and Miss Greeby still remained. The first because she foundherself extremely comfortable, and appreciated Garvington's cook; andthe second on account of Lambert being in the vicinity. Miss Greeby hadbeen very disappointed to learn that the young man had gone to London,but heard from Mrs. Tribb that he was expected back in three days. Shetherefore lingered so as to have another conversation with him, andmeanwhile haunted the gypsy camp for the purpose of keeping an eye onChaldea, who was much too beautiful for her peace of mind. SometimesSilver accompanied her, as the lady had given him to understand that sheknew Pine's real rank and name, so the two were made free of theBohemians and frequently chatted with Ishmael Hearne. But they kept hissecret, as did Chaldea; and Garvington had no idea that the man hedreaded and hated--who flung money to him as if he were tossing a boneto a dog--was within speaking distance. If he had known, he wouldassuredly have guessed the reason why Sir Hubert Pine had interestedhimself in the doings of a wandering tribe of undesirable creatures.
A week passed away and still, although Miss Greeby made daily inquiries,Lambert did not put in an appearance at the forest cottage. Thinkingthat he had departed to escape her, she made up her impatient mind torepair to London, and to hunt him up at his club. With this idea sheintimated to Lady Garvington that she was leaving The Manor early nextmorning. The ladies had just left the dinner-table, and were havingcoffee in the drawing-room when Miss Greeby made this abruptannouncement.
"Oh, my dear," said Lady Garvington, in dismay. "I wish you would changeyour mind. Nearly everyone has gone, and the house is getting quitedull."
"Thanks ever so much," remarked Mrs. Belgrove lightly. She sat near thefire, for the evening was chilly, and what with paint and powder, andhair-dye, to say nothing of her artistic and carefully chosen dress,looked barely thirty-five in the rosy lights cast by the shaded lamps.
"I don't mean you, dear," murmured the hostess, who was even more untidyand helpless than usual. "You are quite a host in yourself. And thatrecipe you gave me for Patagonian soup kept Garvington in quite a goodhumor for ever so long. But the house will be dull for you withoutClara."
"Agnes is here, Jane."
"I fear Agnes is not much of an entertainer," said that lady, smiling ina weary manner, for this society chatter bored her greatly.
"That's not to be wondered at," struck in Miss Greeby abruptly. "For ofcourse you are thinking of your husband."
Lady Agnes colored slightly under Miss Greeby's very direct gaze, butreplied equably enough, to save appearances, "He is still in Paris."
"When did you last hear from him, dear?" questioned Lady Garvington,more to manufacture conversation than because she really cared.
"Only to-day I had a letter. He is carrying out some special businessand will return in two or three weeks."
"You will be glad to see him, no doubt," sneered Miss Greeby.
"I am always glad to see my husband and to be with him," answered LadyAgnes in a dignified manner. She knew perfectly well that Miss Greebyhated her, and guessed the reason, but she was not going to give her anysatisfaction by revealing the true feelings of her heart.
"Well, I intend to stay here, Jane, if it's all the same to you," criedMrs. Belgrove in her liveliest manner and with a side glance, taking inboth Miss Greeby and Lady Agnes. "Only this morning I received achit-chat letter from Mr. Lambert--we are great friends you know--sayingthat he intended to come here for a few days. Such a delightful man heis."
"Oh, dear me, yes," cried Lady Garvington, starting. "I remember. Hewrote yesterday from London, asking if he might come. I told him yes,although I mentioned that we had hardly anyone with us just now."
Miss Greeby looked greatly annoyed, as Mrs. Belgrove maliciously saw,for she knew well that the heiress would now regret having so hastilyintimated her approaching departure. What was the expression on LadyAgnes's face, the old lady could not see, for the millionaire's wifeshielded it--presumably from the fire--with a large fan of whitefeathers. Had Mrs. Belgrove been able to read that countenance she wouldhave seen satisfaction written thereon, and would probably have set downthe expression to a wrong cause. In reality, Agnes was glad to thinkthat Lambert's promise was being kept, and that he no longer intended toavoid her company so openly.
But if she was pleased, Miss Greeby was not, and still continued to lookannoyed, since she had burnt her boats by announcing her departure. Andwhat annoyed her still more than her hasty decision was, that she wouldleave Lambert in the house along with the rival she most dreaded. Thoughwhat the young man could see in this pale, washed-out creature MissGreeby could not imagine. She glanced at a near mirror and saw her ownopulent, full-b
lown looks clothed in a pale-blue dinner-gown, which wentso well--as she inartistically decided, with her ruddy locks, Mrs.Belgrove considered that Miss Greeby looked like a paint-box, or asunset, or one of Turner's most vivid pictures, but the heiress was verywell pleased with herself. Lady Agnes, in her favorite white, with herpale face and serious looks, was but a dull person of the nunpersuasion. And Miss Greeby did not think that Lambert cared for nuns,when he had an Amazonian intelligent pal--so she put it--at hand. But,of course, he might prefer dark beauties like Chaldea. Poor Miss Greeby;she was pursuing her wooing under very great difficulties, and becamesilent in order to think out some way of revoking in some naturalmanner the information of her departure.
There were other women in the room, who joined in the conversation, andall were glad to hear that Mr. Lambert intended to pay a visit to hiscousin, for, indeed, the young man was a general favorite. And then astwo or three decided--Mrs. Belgrove amongst the number--there reallycould be nothing in the report that he loved Lady Agnes still, else hewould scarcely come and stay where she was. As for Pine's wife, she wasa washed-out creature, who had never really loved her cousin as peoplehad thought. And after all, why should she, since he was so poor,especially when she was married to a millionaire with the looks of anEastern prince, and manners of quite an original nature, although thesewere not quite conventional. Oh, yes, there was nothing in the scandalthat said Garvington had sold his sister to bolster up the familyproperty. Lady Agnes was quite happy, and her husband was a dear man,who left her a great deal to her own devices--which he wouldn't havedone had he suspected the cousin; and who gave her pots of money tospend. And what more could a sensible woman want?
In this way those in the drawing-room babbled, while Agnes stared intothe fire, bracing herself to encounter Lambert, who would surely arrivewithin the next two or three days, and while Miss Greeby savagelyrebuked herself for having so foolishly intimated her departure. Thenthe men straggled in from their wine, and bridge became the order of thenight with some, while others begged for music. After a song or so andthe execution of a Beethoven sonata, to which no one paid any attention,a young lady gave a dance after the manner of Maud Allan, to whicheveryone attended. Then came feats of strength, in which Miss Greebyproved herself to be a female Sandow, and later a number of the guestssojourned to the billiard-room to play. When they grew weary of that,tobogganing down the broad staircase on trays was suggested and indulgedin amidst shrieks of laughter. Afterwards, those heated by thishorse-play strayed on to the terrace to breathe the fresh air, and flirtin the moonlight. In fact, every conceivable way of passing the time wastaken advantage of by these very bored people, who scarcely knew how toget through the long evening.
"They seem to be enjoying themselves, Freddy," said Lady Garvington toher husband, when she drifted against him in the course of attending toher guests. "I really think they find this jolly."
"I don't care a red copper what they find," retorted the little man, whowas looking worried, and not quite his usual self. "I wish the whole lotwould get out of the house. I'm sick of them."
"Ain't you well, Freddy? I knew that Patagonian soup was too rich foryou."
"Oh, the soup was all right--ripping soup," snorted Freddy, smacking hislips over the recollection. "But I'm bothered over Pine."
"He isn't ill, is he?" questioned Lady Garvington anxiously. She likedher brother-in-law, who was always kind to her.
"No, hang him; nothing worse than his usual lung trouble, I suppose. Buthe is in Paris, and won't answer my letters."
"Letters, Freddy dear."
"Yes, Jane dear," he mocked. "Hang it, I want money, and he won't stumpup. I can't even get an answer."
"Speak to Mr. Silver."
"Damn Mr. Silver!"
"Well, I'm sure, Frederick, you needn't swear at me," said poor, wanLady Garvington, drawing herself up. "Mr. Silver is very kind. He wentto that gypsy camp and found out how they cook hedgehog. That will be anew dish for you, dear. You haven't eaten hedgehog."
"No. And what's more, I don't intend to eat it. But you may as well tellme how these gypsies cook it," and Freddy listened with both his redears to the description, on hearing which he decided that his wifemight instruct the cook how to prepare the animal. "But no one will eatit but me."
Lady Garvington shuddered. "I shan't touch it myself. Those horridsnails you insisted on being cooked a week ago made me quite ill. Youare always trying new experiments, Freddy."
"Because I get so tired of every-day dishes," growled Lord Garvington."These cooks have no invention. I wish I'd lived in Rome when they hadthose banquets you read of in Gibbon."
"Did he write a book on cookery?" asked Lady Garvington very naturally.
"No. He turned out a lot of dull stuff about wars and migrations oftribes: you are silly, Jane."
"What's that about migration of tribes?" asked Mrs. Belgrove, who was ina good humor, as she had won largely at bridge. "You don't mean thosedear gypsies at Abbot's Wood do you, Lord Garvington? I met one of themthe other day--quite a girl and very pretty in a dark way. She told myfortune, and said that I would come in for a lot of money. I'm sure Ihope so," sighed Mrs. Belgrove. "Celestine is so expensive, but no onecan fit me like she can. And she knows it, and takes advantage, thehorrid creature."
"I wish the tribe of gypsies would clear out," snapped Freddy, standingbefore the fire and glaring at the company generally. "I know they'llbreak in here and rob."
"Well," drawled Silver, who was hovering near, dressed so carefully thathe looked more of a foxy, neat bounder than ever. "I have noticed thatsome of the brutes have been sneaking round the place."
Mrs. Belgrove shrieked. "Oh, how lucky I occupy a bedroom on the thirdfloor. Just like a little bird in its tiny-weeny nest. They can't get atme there, can they, Lord Garvington?"
"They don't want you," observed Miss Greeby in her deep voice. "It'syour diamonds they'd like to get."
"Oh!" Mrs. Belgrove shrieked again. "Lock my diamonds up in your strongroom, Lord Garvington. Do! do! do! To please poor little me," and sheeffusively clasped her lean hands, upon which many of the said diamondsglittered.
"I don't think there is likely to be any trouble with these poorgypsies, Mrs. Belgrove," remarked Lady Agnes negligently. "Hubert hastold me a great deal about them, and they are really not so bad aspeople make out."
"Your husband can't know anything of such ragtags," said Miss Greeby,looking at the beautiful, pale face, and wondering if she really had anysuspicion that Pine was one of the crew she mentioned.
"Oh, but Hubert does," answered Lady Agnes innocently. "He has met manyof them when he has been out helping people. You have no idea, any ofyou, how good Hubert is," she added, addressing the company generally."He walks on the Embankment sometimes on winter nights and gives thepoor creatures money. And in the country I have often seen him stop tohand a shilling to some tramp in the lanes."
"A gypsy for choice," growled Miss Greeby, marvelling that Lady Agnescould not see the resemblance between the tramps' faces and that of herown husband. "However, I hope Pine's darlings won't come here to rob.I'll fight for my jewels, I can promise you."
One of the men laughed. "I shouldn't like to get a blow from your fist."
Miss Greeby smiled grimly, and looked at his puny stature. "Women haveto protect themselves from men like you," she said, amidst greatlaughter, for the physical difference between her and the man was quiteamusing.
"It's all very well talking," said Garvington crossly. "But I don'ttrust these gypsies."
"Why don't you clear them off your land then?" asked Silver daringly.
Garvington glared until his gooseberry eyes nearly fell out of his redface. "I'll clear everyone to bed, that's what I'll do," he retorted,crossing the room to the middle French window of the drawing-room. "Iwish you fellows would stop your larking out there," he cried. "It'sclose upon midnight, and all decent people should be in bed."
"Since when have you joined the Methodists, Garvington?" ask
ed anofficer who had come over from some twelve-mile distant barracks to passthe night, and a girl behind him began to sing a hymn.
Lady Agnes frowned. "I wish you wouldn't do that, Miss Ardale," shesaid in sharp rebuke, and the girl had the sense to be silent, whileGarvington fussed over the closing of the window shutters.
"Going to stand a siege?" asked Miss Greeby, laughing. "Or do you expectburglars, particularly on this night."
"I don't expect them at all," retorted the little man. "But I tell you Ihate the idea of these lawless gypsies about the place. Still, if anyonecomes," he added grimly, "I shall shoot."
"Then the attacking person or party needn't bother," cried the officer."I shouldn't mind standing up to your fire, myself, Garvington."
With laughter and chatter and much merriment at the host's expense, theguests went their several ways, the women to chat in one another'sdressing-rooms and the men to have a final smoke and a final drink.Garvington, with two footmen, and his butler, went round the house,carefully closing all the shutters, and seeing that all was safe. Hissister rather marvelled at this excessive precaution, and said as muchto her hostess.
"It wouldn't matter if the gypsies did break in," she said when alonewith Lady Garvington in her own bedroom. "It would be some excitement,for all these people must find it very dull here."
"I'm sure I do my best, Agnes," said the sister-in-law plaintively.
"Of course, you do, you poor dear," said the other, kissing her. "ButGarvington always asks people here who haven't two ideas. A horrid,rowdy lot they are. I wonder you stand it."
"Garvington asks those he likes, Agnes."
"I see. He hasn't any brains, and his guests suit him for the samereason."
"They eat a great deal," wailed Lady Garvington. "I'm sure I might aswell be a cook. All my time is taken up with feeding them."
"Well, Freddy married you, Jane, because you had a genius for lookingafter food. Your mother was much the same; she always kept a goodtable." Lady Agnes laughed. "Yours was a most original wooing, Jane."
"I'd like to live on bread and water for my part, Agnes."
"Put Freddy on it, dear. He's getting too stout. I never thought thatgluttony was a crime. But when I look at Freddy"--checking her speech,she spread out her hands with an ineffable look--"I'm glad that Noel iscoming," she ended, rather daringly. "At least he will be moreinteresting than any of these frivolous people you have collected."
Lady Garvington looked at her anxiously. "You don't mind Noel coming?"
"No, dear. Why should I?"
"Well you see, Agnes, I fancied--"
"Don't fancy anything. Noel and I entirely understand one another."
"I hope," blurted out the other woman, "that it is a rightunderstanding?"
Agnes winced, and looked at her with enforced composure. "I am devotedto my husband," she said, with emphasis. "And I have every reason to be.He has kept his part of the bargain, so I keep mine. But," she addedwith a pale smile, "when I think how I sold myself to keep up the creditof the family, and now see Freddy entertaining this riff-raff, I amsorry that I did not marry Noel, whom I loved so dearly."
"That would have meant our ruin," bleated Lady Garvington, sadly.
"Your ruin is only delayed, Jane. Freddy is a weak, self-indulgent fool,and is eating his way into the next world. It will be a happy day foryou when an apoplectic fit makes you a widow."
"My dear," the wife was shocked, "he is your brother."
"More's the pity. I have no illusions about Freddy, Jane, and I don'tthink you have either. Now, go away and sleep. It's no use lying awakethinking over to-morrow's dinner. Give Freddy the bread and water youtalked about."
Lady Garvington laughed in a weak, aimless way, and then kissed hersister-in-law with a sigh, after which she drifted out of the room inher usual vague manner. Very shortly the clock over the stables struckmidnight, and by that time Garvington the virtuous had induced all hismen guests to go to bed. The women chatted a little longer, and then, intheir turn, sought repose. By half-past twelve the great house was incomplete darkness, and bulked a mighty mass of darkness in the paleSeptember moonlight.
Lady Agnes got to bed quickly, and tired out by the boredom of theevening, quickly fell asleep. Suddenly she awoke with all her senses onthe alert, and with a sense of vague danger hovering round. There weresounds of running feet and indistinct oaths and distant cries, and shecould have sworn that a pistol-shot had startled her from slumber. In amoment she was out of bed and ran to open her window. On looking outshe saw that the moonlight was very brilliant, and in it beheld a tallman running swiftly from the house. He sped down the broad path, andjust when he was abreast of a miniature shrubbery, she heard a secondshot, which seemed to be fired there-from. The man staggered, andstumbled and fell. Immediately afterwards, her brother--she recognizedhis voice raised in anger--ran out of the house, followed by some of themale guests. Terrified by the sight and the sound of the shots, LadyAgnes huddled on her dressing-gown hastily, and thrust her bare feetinto slippers. The next moment she was out of her bedroom and down thestairs. A wild idea had entered her mind that perhaps Lambert had comesecretly to The Manor, and had been shot by Garvington in mistake for aburglar. The corridors and the hall were filled with guests more or lesslightly attired, mostly women, white-faced and startled. Agnes paid noattention to their shrieks, but hurried into the side passage whichterminated at the door out of which her brother had left the house. Shewent outside also and made for the group round the fallen man.
"What is it? who is it?" she asked, gasping with the hurry and thefright.
"Go back, Agnes, go back," cried Garvington, looking up with a distortedface, strangely pale in the moonlight.
"But who is it? who has been killed?" She caught sight of the fallenman's countenance and shrieked. "Great heavens! it is Hubert; is hedead?"
"Yes," said Silver, who stood at her elbow. "Shot through the heart."