The Red Derelict

by Bertram Mitford

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

  "REQUIEM AETERNAM..."

  Though beloved by their tenantry and dependents the Wagrams were notexactly popular with the county--as spelt with a capital C. This sawreason, or thought it did, to regard them as exclusive and eccentric.To begin with, they seldom entertained, and then not on anything likethe scale it was reckoned they ought. A few shooting parties in theseason, and those mostly men, though such of the latter as owned wivesand daughters brought them; or an occasional gathering, such as we haveseen, mainly of ecclesiastical interest. It was a crying shame,declared the county, that a splendid place like Hilversea Court shouldbe thrown away on two solemn old widowers; and it was the duty of one ofthem--Wagram at any rate--to marry again. But Wagram showed not theslightest inclination to do anything of the kind.

  Not through lack of opportunity--inducement. He was angled for, more orless deftly--not always with a mercenary motive; but, though courteousand considerate to the aspiring fair, by no art or wile could he bedrawn any further--no, not even into the faintest shadow of aflirtation. It was exasperating, but there was no help for it, so hehad been given up as hopeless. He might have recognised the duty butfor the existence of his son. Hilversea would have its heir after him--that was sufficient.

  He was eccentric, estimated his acquaintances, in that he worked hard atmatters that most people leave to an agent; but this was a duty, heheld--a sacred trust--to look into things personally; the result we havereferred to elsewhere. As for entertaining, well, neither he nor theold Squire cared much about it. On the other hand, they were carefulthat many a day's sport, with gun or rod--but mostly the latter--shouldcome in the way of not a few who seldom had an opportunity of enjoyingsuch.

  But now of late there had befallen that which caused the countyaforesaid to rub its eyes, and this was the manner in which the Wagramsseemed to have "taken up" Delia Calmour. It was not surprised that abrazen, impudent baggage like that should have pushed herself upon themon the strength of the gnu incident, the marvel was that she should havesucceeded--have succeeded in getting round not only Wagram but the oldSquire as well, and the county resented it. Once when she was atHilversea some callers, of course, of her own sex, took an opportunityof testifying their disapproval by being markedly rude to the girl.This Wagram had noticed, and had there and then paid her extra attentionby way of protest. And Haldane too--he who thought the whole world washardly good enough to have the honour of containing that girl of his,and yet he allowed her to associate with a daughter of tippling,disreputable old Calmour! What next, and what next!

  But if the Wagrams were eccentric they could afford to be, and that fora dual reason: in the first place, they were "big" enough; in the next,they cared literally and absolutely not one straw for the opinion of thecounty. If a given line commended itself to their approbation they tookit, completely regardless of what the county or anybody else mightchoose to say or think--and this held equally good of father and son--which was as well, for, as time went by, on this matter it "said"plenty.

  A wafting of it reached Wagram one day, at the mouth of Clytie's_quondam_ victim--"Vance's eldest fool," as the old Squire had, withcynical aptitude, defined that much plucked youth.

  "Take a tip from me, Wagram," remarked the latter one day. "You'remaking a mistake having too much to do with that lot. They'redangerous, and you'll have to pay up smartly for your fun one of thesedays."

  The other did not retort that the speaker had reason to be an authorityon the point, nor did he get angry; he only answered:

  "I don't like that kind of remark, Vance. I suppose because I'm not inthe habit of taking anybody's `tips' I always take my own line. Soundsconceited, perhaps, but it's true."

  "Oh, I didn't mean anything, Wagram," was the reply, given rathershamefacedly.

  But the time had now come when this reputation for reticence, foreccentricity, stood Wagram in good stead. If he had become graver, morealoof than ever under the influence of this new and overwhelming blow,his surroundings hardly noticed it. In anybody else it would have beenat once remarked on; in him it was a mere development of his former andnormal demeanour. One or two opined that he contemplated entering amonastery, but the general run gave the matter no further thought; and,the very vaguest, faintest inkling of the real state of things strucknobody at all.

  There was one, however, whose quick woman's wit had not been slow toarrive at the fact that something had gone wrong--in some absolutelynot-to-be-guessed-at and unaccountable way, but still gone wrong--andthat was Delia herself. The county need not bother its opaque head anyfurther as to how and why the Wagrams had "taken her up," for the saidWagrams seemed to have dropped her with equal capriciousness. And thegirl herself?

  No more of these pleasant informal invites to Hilversea when she cycledover to the chapel services on Sundays or other days. Wagram and theold Squire were as courteous and kindly in their bearing as ever, but--there it ended; and, strange to say, remembering her upbringing, or wantof it rather, this daughter of tippling, disreputable old Calmour didnot, even in her heart of hearts, feel hurt or resentful. For, as wehave said, by some quick-witted instinct of her own she realised thatsome great trouble, secret and, therefore, infinitely the greater, wassapping the peace of this house, to the members of which she looked upwith a feeling little short of adoration. She saw this, but nobody elsedid as yet.

  Delia had carried out the intention we heard her express to Wagram onthe occasion of one of those visits which had constituted the brightdays of her life. She had placed herself under the instruction of theold priest in Bassingham whose German nationality had first aroused herinsular disapproval, and had been received into the Catholic Church; butin the result she had learned that a love of beautiful music andimposing and picturesque ceremonies was not the be-all and end-all ofthe matter by a long way; wherefore the change had put the coping-stoneto the refining process which had been going on unconsciously withinher, and the former undisciplined and inconsequent daughter of rackety,happy-go-lucky Siege House had become a self-contained andself-disciplined woman. As to this something of a test was put upon herwhen one day, on one of the rare occasions now when she had anopportunity of talking confidentially with Wagram, the latter remarked:

  "Talking of `duties,' Miss Calmour, I wonder if you will resent what Iam going to say? It seems ungracious after the great help you havegiven us here from time to time--musically, I mean. Well, then, youhave a beautiful voice and great musical talent. Now, don't you thinkyou ought to turn that to account nearer home? The mission atBassingham is a poor one. With your talents, if you threw yourself intohelping to improve its choir, and musical arrangements generally, what adifference that might work in rendering it more attractive to outsidepeople as well as to those within. Of course, music like many otheraccessories, is a mere spiritual luxury, not an essential, but it isoften a powerful factor in the first instance, in attracting thosewithout, and therefore, like any lawful agency in that direction, by nomeans to be despised. How if this is a talent entrusted to you to beturned to account? But there--I have no constituted right to set myselfup as your adviser, and I suppose you are only setting me down as asolemn old bore intent on preaching you a sermon," he concluded, with asmile--a sad one, she decided to herself, as his somewhat rare smileswere in these days.

  The natural human in Delia was represented by a feeling of blank dismay.Those rides over to Hilversea, and her part in the musical arrangementsof its exquisite chapel, had been to her as something to live for. Andnow even this was to be denied her. But the self-discipline had becomean accomplished fact.

  "I am setting you down as nothing of the sort, Mr Wagram," she answeredsteadily, "nor do I know anybody in this world more competent to adviseme or anyone else. Yes; you are right; I will follow your advice. ButI may come up to Hilversea, and help occasionally when I am not wantedin Bassingham, mayn't I?"

  "My dear child, of course; we are only too glad. You know, I was notputting i
t to you in your own personal interest. In such a matternothing personal comes in, or ought to. But there--I seem to bepreaching again."

  The step Delia had taken involved upon her far less of a trial fromthose among whom she moved than she had expected. Old Calmour had beennasty and jeering on the subject, and in his cups had been wont to makeexceedingly objectionable remarks and vulgar insinuations; but such tothe girl were as mere pin-pricks now. Moreover, Clytie had on everyoccasion quelled, not to say flattened, him with all her serene buteffective decisiveness; and the egregious Bob was in a state of completesubjection, as we have shown. To Clytie herself the whole thing was amatter of entire satisfaction, for she regarded it as a step, and a veryimportant one, in the direction of furthering her own darling scheme;which scheme, by the way, did not seem to progress with the rapidity shewould have wished.

  "You must force the pace Delia," she said. "The thing's hanging alittle more than I like. You've got a first-rate cut in, and you oughtto be able to capture the trick. Force the pace a little more; you'renot making the most of your opportunities."

  "You're wasting a deal of capacity for intrigue, Clytie," was theanswer. "There's nothing `hanging,' no pace to force, and no trick tocapture, as I've told you before."

  The other looked at her, shook her pretty head, and--being at timesinclined towards vulgarity--winked.

  And then upon Hilversea and its surroundings and dependents fell anotherbolt--swift, sudden, consternating. The old Squire was dead.

  He had passed away in his sleep, peacefully and painlessly, for theexpression of his fine old face was absolutely placid and almostsmiling; and from Wagram downwards the bolt shot hard and grievousthrough many a heart. Not only of those belonging to the immediateneighbourhood did this hold, for in the crowd which thronged theapproaches to the chapel what time the solemn High Mass of _Requiem_--sung by the dead man's lifelong friend, Monsignor Culham--wasproceeding, not a few strange faces might have been discerned; faces ofthose whom Grantley Wagram and his son had benefited--in some instanceseven to the saving of life, where, but for such benefit, the means ofpreserving life by affording the requisite conditions would have beenlacking.

  Very different, too, to the _cortege_ which we saw issue from thesedoors a few months back is this which now comes forth to lay the deadman in his last resting-place in the little consecrated graveyardbeneath the east window of the chapel, but no less solemn. The glow andsplendour of light and colour, the mellow flooding of the summersunshine are no longer here, and the gurgling song of full-throatedthrushes is hushed. Instead, the frost and stillness of a winter noon,and an occasional sob as the coffin is lowered into the grave, while thechant of the _Benedictus_ rolls forth mournful and grand upon the crispair, so still that the lights borne on each side of the great crucifixburn with scarce a flicker, and the celebrant, vested in a black andsilver cope of some richness, sprinkles--for the last time with holywater the remains of Grantley Wagram, now laid to his final rest.

  "Requiem aeternam dona, ei Domine, Et lux perpetua luceat ei.

  "Anima ejus, et animae omnium fidelium defunctorum per misericordiam Dei requiescant in pace."

  The words find echo in many a heart as the sad solemnity ends. Thecrowd melts away, the mourners withdraw--all save one, who standsmotionless, with bowed head, looking down into the closing grave--andthat one the dead man's son.