CHAPTER VIII
RIGHT OF WAY
The look of blank astonishment which spread over Copplestone's face onhearing this announcement seemed to afford his companion greatamusement, and she laughed merrily as she signed to him to turn backtowards the woods.
"All the same," she observed, "I know how to steal a countermarch onMaster Chatfield. Come along!--you shan't be disappointed."
"Does your cousin know of that?" asked Copplestone. "Are those hisorders?"
Audrey's lips curled a little, and she laughed again--but this time thelaughter was cynical.
"I don't think it much matters whether my cousin knows or not," she said."He's the nominal Squire of Scarhaven, but everybody knows that the realover-lord is Peter Chatfield. Peter Chatfield does--everything. And--hehates me! He won't have had such a pleasant moment for a long time as hehad this morning when he took my key away from me and warned me off."
"But why you?" asked Copplestone.
"Oh--Peter is deep!" she said. "Peter, no doubt, knew that you came tosee us last night--Peter knows all that goes on in Scarhaven. And he putthings together, and decided that I might act as your cicerone over theKeep and the ruins, and so--there you are!"
"Why should he object to my visiting the Keep?" demanded Copplestone.
"That's obvious! He considers you a spy," replied Audrey. "And--there maybe reasons why he doesn't desire your presence in those ancient regions.But--we'll go there, all the same, if you don't mind breaking rules anddefying Peter."
"Not I!" said Copplestone. "Hang Peter!"
"There are people who firmly believe that Peter Chatfield should havebeen hanged long since," she remarked quietly. "I'm one of them.Chatfield is a bad old man--thoroughly bad! But I'll circumvent him inthis, anyhow. I know how to get into the Keep in spite of him and of hislocks and bolts. There's a big curtain wall, twenty feet high, all roundthe Keep, but I know where there's a hole in it, behind some bushes, andwe'll get in there. Come along!"
She led him up the same path through the woods along which Bassett Oliverhad gone, according to Ewbank's account. It wound through groves of firand pine until it came out on a plateau, in the midst of which,surrounded by a high irregular wall, towered at the angles and buttressedall along its length, stood Scarhaven Keep. And there, at the head of apath which evidently led up from the big house, stood Chatfield, angryand threatening. Beyond him, distributed at intervals about the otherpaths which converged on the plateau were other men, obviously estatelabourers, who appeared to be mounting guard over the forbidden spot.
"Now there's going to be a row!--between me and Chatfield," murmuredAudrey. "You play spectator--don't say a word. Leave it to me. We are onour rights along this path--take no notice of Peter."
But Chatfield was already bearing down on them, his solemn-featured facedark with displeasure. He raised his voice while he was yet a dozenyards away.
"I thought I'd told you as you wasn't to come near these here ruins!" hesaid, addressing Audrey in a fashion which made Copplestone's fingersitch to snatch the oak staff from the agent and lay it freely about hisperson. "My orders was to that there effect! And when I give orders Imean 'em to be obeyed. You'll turn straight back where you came from,miss, and in future do as I instruct--d'ye hear that, now?"
"If you expect me to keep quiet or dumb under that sort of thing,"whispered Copplestone, bending towards Audrey, "you're very much mistakenin me! I shall give this fellow a lesson in another minute if--"
"Well, wait another minute, then," said Audrey, who had continued to walkforward, steadily regarding the agent's threatening figure. "Let me talka little, first--I'm enjoying it. Are you addressing me, Mr. Chatfield?"she went on in her sweetest accents. "I hear you speaking, but I don'tknow if you are speaking to me. If so, you needn't shout."
"You know very well who I'm a-speaking to," growled Chatfield. "I toldyou you wasn't to come near these ruins--it's forbidden, by order. You'lltake yourself off, and that there young man with you--we want no paidspies hereabouts!"
"If you speak to me like that again I'll knock you down!" exclaimedCopplestone, stepping forward before Audrey could stop him. "Or to thislady, either. Stand aside, will you?"
Chatfield twisted on his heel with a surprising agility--not to standaside, but to wave his arm to the men who stood here and there,behind him.
"Here, you!" he shouted. "Here, this way, all of you! This here fellow'sthreatening me with assault. You lay a finger on me, you young snapper,and I'll have you in the lock-up in ten minutes. Stand between us, youmen!--he's for knocking me down. Now then!" he went on, as the bodyguardgot between him and Copplestone, "off you go, out o' these grounds, bothof you--quick! I'll have no defiance of my orders from neither gel norboy, man nor woman. Out you go, now--or you'll be put out."
But Audrey continued to advance, still watching the agent. "You're undera mistake, Mr. Chatfield," she said calmly. "You will observe that Mr.Copplestone and I are on this path. You know very well that this is apublic foot-path, with a proper and legal right-of-way from timeimmemorial. You can't turn us off it, you know--without exposing yourselfto all sorts of pains and penalties. You men know that, too," shecontinued, turning to the labourers and dropping her bantering tone. "Youall know this is a public footpath. So stand out of our way, or I'llsummon every one of you!"
The last words were spoken with so much force and decision that the threelabourers involuntarily moved aside. But Chatfield hastened to opposeAudrey's progress, planting himself in front of a wicket-gate which therestood across the path, and he laughed sneeringly.
"And where would you find money to take summonses out?" he said, with alook of contempt, "I should think you and your mother's something betterto do with your bit o' money than that. Now then, no more words!--backyou turn!"
Copplestone's temper had been gradually rising during the last fewminutes. Now, at the man's carefully measured taunts, he let it go.Before Chatfield or the labourers saw what he was at, he sprang on theagent's big form, grasped him by the neck with one hand, twisted his oakstaff away from him with the other, flung him headlong on the turf, andraised the staff threateningly.
"Now!" he said, "beg Miss Greyle's pardon, instantly, or I'll split yourwicked old head for you. Quick, man--I mean it!"
Before Chatfield, moaning and groaning, could find his voice capableof words, Marston Greyle, pale and excited, came round a corner ofthe ruins.
"What's this, what's all this?" he demanded. "Here, yon sir, what areyou doing with that stick! What--"
"I'm about to chastise your agent for his scoundrelly insolence to yourcousin," retorted Copplestone with cheerful determination. "Now then, myman, quick--I always keep my word!"
"Hand the stick to Mr. Marston Greyle, Mr. Copplestone," said Audrey inher demurest manner. "I'm sure he would beat Chatfield soundly if he hadheard what he said to me--his cousin."
"Thank you, but I'm in possession," said Copplestone, grimly. "Mr.Marston Greyle can kick him when I've thrashed him. Now, then--are yougoing to beg Miss Greyle's pardon, you hoary sinner?"
"What on earth is it all about?" exclaimed Greyle, obviously upset andafraid. "Chatfield, what have you been saying? Go away, you men--go away,all of you, at once. Mr. Copplestone, don't hit him. Audrey, what is it?Hang it all!--I seem to have nothing but bother--it's most annoying. Whatis it, I say?"
"It is merely, Marston, that your agent there, after trying to turn Mr.Copplestone and myself off this public foot-path, insulted me withshameful taunts about my mother's poverty," replied Audrey. "That's all!Whereupon--as you were not here to do it--Mr. Copplestone promptly andvery properly knocked him down. And now--is Mr. Copplestone to punish himor--will you?"
Copplestone, keeping a sharp eye on the groaning and sputtering agent,contrived at the same time to turn a corner of it on Marston Greyle. Thatmomentary glance showed him much. The Squire was mortally afraid of hisman. That was certain--as certain as that they were there. He stood, apicture of vexation and indecision,
glancing furtively at Chatfield, thenat Audrey, and evidently hating to be asked to take a side.
"Confound it all, Chatfield!" he suddenly burst out. "Why don't you mindwhat you're saying? It's all very well, Audrey, but you shouldn't havecome along here--especially with strangers. The fact is, I'm so upsetabout this Oliver affair that I'm going to have a thorough search andexamination of the Keep and the ruins, and, of course, we can't allow anyone inside the grounds while it's going on. You should have kept toChatfield's orders--"
"And since when has a Greyle of Scarhaven kept to a servant's orders?"interrupted Audrey, with a sneer that sent the blood rushing to theSquire's face. "Never!--until this present regime, I should think.Orders, indeed!--from an agent! I wonder what the last Squire ofScarhaven would have said to a proposition like that? Mr.Copplestone--you've punished that bad old man quite sufficiently. Willyou open the gate for me--and we'll go on our way."
The girl spoke with so much decision that Copplestone moved away fromChatfield, who struggled to his feet, muttering words that sounded verymuch like smothered curses.
"I'll have the law on you!" he growled, shaking his fist at Copplestone."Before this day's out, I'll have the law!"
"Sooner the better," retorted Copplestone. "Nothing will please me somuch as to tell the local magistrates precisely what you said to yourmaster's kinswoman. You know where I'm to be found--and there," headded, throwing a card at the agent's feet, "there you'll find mypermanent address."
"Give me my walking-stick!" demanded Chatfield.
"Not I!" exclaimed Copplestone. "That's mine, my good man, by right ofconquest. You can summon me, or arrest me, if you like, for stealing it."
He opened the wicket-gate for Audrey, and together they passed through,skirted the walls of the ruins, and went away into the higher portion ofthe woods. Once there the girl laughed.
"Now there'll be another row!" she said. "Between master and manthis time."
"I think not!" observed Copplestone, with unusual emphasis. "For themaster is afraid of the man."
"Ah!--but which is master and which is man?" asked Audrey in a low voice.
Copplestone stopped and looked narrowly at her.
"Oh?" he said quietly, "so you've seen that?"
"Does it need much observation?" she replied. "My mother and I have knownfor some time that Marston Greyle is entirely under Peter Chatfield'sthumb. He daren't do anything--save by Chatfield's permission."
Copplestone walked on a few yards, ruminating.
"Why!" he asked suddenly.
"How do we know?" retorted Audrey.
"Well, in cases like that," said Copplestone, "it generally means thatone man has a hold on the other. What hold can Chatfield have on yourcousin? I understand Mr. Marston Greyle came straight to his inheritancefrom America. So what could Chatfield know of him--to have any hold?"
"Oh, I don't know--and I don't care--much," replied Audrey, as theypassed out of the woods on to the headlands beyond. "Never mind allthat--here's the sea and the open sky--hang Chatfield, and Marston, too!As we can't see the Keep, let's enjoy ourselves some other way. Whatshall we do?"
"You're the guide, conductress, general boss!" answered Copplestone."Shall I suggest something that sounds very material, though? Well, then,can't we go along these cliffs to some village where we can find a niceold fishing inn and get a simple lunch of some sort?"
"That's certainly material and eminently practical," laughed Audrey. "Wecan--that place, along there to the south--Lenwick. And so, come on--andno more talk of Squire and agent. I've a remarkable facility in throwingaway unpleasant things."
"It's a grand faculty--and I'll try to imitate you," said Copplestone."So--today's our own, eh? Is that it?"
"Say until the middle of this afternoon," responded Audrey. "Don't forgetthat I have a mother at home."
It was, however, well past the middle of the afternoon when these tworeturned to Scarhaven, very well satisfied with themselves. They hadfound plenty to talk about without falling back on Marston Greyle, orPeter Chatfield, or the event of the morning, and Copplestone suddenlyremembered, almost with compunction, that he had been so engrossed inhis companion that he had almost forgotten the Oliver mystery. But thatwas sharply recalled to him as he entered the "Admiral's Arms." Mrs.Wooler came forward from her parlour with a mysterious smile on hergood-looking face.
"Here's a billet-doux for you, Mr. Copplestone," she said. "And I can'ttell you who left it. One of the girls found it lying on the hall tablean hour ago." With that she handed Copplestone a much thumbed, verygrimy, heavily-sealed envelope.
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