The Man from Ceylon

by Ruby M. Ayres

  “I think—and I am sure you will agree—that it will be better for all parties concerned if we—end our brief—romance!”

  Paddy gasped.

  “You mean—you don’t want me—after all? “and then as he remained silent, she laughed a little uncertainly. “Don’t be silly, Monty. It’s all such a fuss about nothing. It’s not the first time you’ve seen father in one of his tempers, and tonight— when he comes home—it will all be forgotten, and he’ll be the first to say he is sorry. Anyway,” she added emphatically, “I’m not breaking our engagement. I want to marry you—and I’ll marry you tomorrow if you like, Anything to get away from —from this humdrum existence and have a good time.”

  Monty looked at her with coldly critical eyes.

  “Rather a back-handed compliment, isn’t it?” he submitted calmly. “And I am not at all sure you would find your idea of’a good time’ in the backwoods of Australia.”

  Paddy stared at him. “Australia! …but— you’re not going there!”

  “I am seriously considering it, because——”

  She broke in breathlessly. “But you can’t!…I should hate it—I know I’ve often told you I want to travel—to go abroad—but not to live! Oh Monty, don’t be so difficult. Think of the fun we can have in London—you don’t know what wonderful places there are we can go to, and if we have a flat——”

  Monty laughed. “I understand that London flats cost a small fortune nowadays and my name is not Croesus.”

  Paddy laughed, then—” You do talk nonsense, don’t you? “she said gaily. “When you know that you’ve got all the money you can possibly want——”

  Monty shoved a pair of riding boots into a corner of the rapidly filling packingcase.

  “It would be more true to say that I— did have— once upon a time,” he corrected her. “But—quite recently I have realised the truth of the saying that a fool and his money are soon parted. Ever heard that proverb? “he enquired with mock interest.

  Paddy put out a hand to steady herself against the garage door, and when she spoke her voice was little more than a whisper. “You mean—you’ve lost it?…Then—Gerard was right—after all.”

  “Winter!”…Monty’s face was grim. “Well, be certainly should know—if anyone does,” he agreed.

  “Lost it!”…Paddy whispered again. “But —it can’t be true!…all that money!…How—how did you lose it?”

  Monty took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it before he explained. “I fear—as is the case with many other—wiser and more knowledgeable would-be speculators than my humble self—we must blame that mysterious concern known as the Stock Exchange.”

  “The— Stock Exchange! “Paddy repeated the words blankly. “But—only the other day I heard you and Gordon agreeing that unless you knew a lot about it—it was—madness to speculate! I heard you say so—Gordon had been talking about Father and—”

  Monty laughed. “Perhaps in the words of the old-song I’ve been ‘following in Father’s footsteps— following the dear old Dad’. Anyway, my child, there it is! Sorry to disillusion you, and now—if you will pardon me—I must get on with my packing. By the way—” he turned to look at her with calm enquiry. “With regard to Peter’s coming nuptials— what is the correct thing for me to wear as I am to be Best Man? Not that I have an extensive wardrobe from which I can choose, but——” Paddy broke in with childish anger,

  “What does it matter what you wear! What does anything matter? I hate weddings!—I hate everything—including you——” and bursting into tears she fled from the garage towards the house.

  Nothing ever goes right for me, she told herself passionately. Life was one disillusionment after another, First Peter—and now Monty! Peter for ceasing to love her even though she had refused to marry him, and Monty for recklessly gambling away his money with which she had determined to find some sort of happiness, even if it was only second-best! Was it the truth that he was no longer the wealthy man she had believed him to be? Or had he just said so because—as she had always vaguely suspected—be did not really care for her and he guessed it would be a way of escape?

  But Gerard had told her the same thing about him! Had said that all Monty now possessed was just a few hundreds a year—“Enough to pay his way—and yours—in humble circumstances.”

  Those had been his actual words, but even if they were true, how could Gerard have known? He and Monty had never been on friendly terms—in fact, from the first it had been obvious that they disliked one another.

  She hurriedly averted her face, brushing her tears away as Jessica crossed the hall towards her.

  “Where’s Monty? “she asked. “He’s wanted on the’phone and I can’t find him——”

  Paddy laughed shakily.

  “He’s in the garage, packing up his goods and chattels. Don’t look so tragic! “She challenged her sister. “It won’t break my heart if we never see him again. Our engagement is at an end—if it ever had a beginning——” she added defiantly.

  Jessica stared at her. “At an— end!… What do you mean?”

  “That I’ve been—disillusioned once again,” Paddy told her harshly. “Well, that’s the second time, so perhaps the third will be lucky! It’s what the clever prophets say, isn’t it? “she submitted defiantly, as she walked away.

  Jessica stood very still, conscious of her quickened heartbeats.

  “At an end—if it ever had a beginning——”

  Then perhaps—some day—that beautiful dream of a cottage in the country, where two people who loved one another would find complete happiness…But how foolish to allow her thoughts to wander so far ahead.

  She gave herself a determined shake and called to Dilly.

  “Mr. Monty is in the garage—please run out and tell him he is wanted on the’phone——” and afraid to face him, she hurried up to her room.

  But presently she heard his step in the hall, and his voice—

  “Hullo!…Yes—Hallam speaking. Who is it? I can’t catch your name—” and then there was a brief silence before she heard him give a smothered exclamation. “My God!… Not—dead—is he?”

  Jessica caught her breath, her hands clenched.

  “Not— dead?” Who? Who? she asked herself wildly, and then she heard Monty again—” Where are you speaking from? Yes, yes, I understand— I’ll come at once——” and the click of the receiver being returned to its place before he came to the foot of the stairs and called her name, very quietly,

  “Jessica—come here—I want you, Jessica——” and when she joined him in the hall he took her hand, drawing her into the sitting-room and closing the door, but it was a moment before he could speak.

  “I’m afraid it’s—bad news, my dear. There has been an accident “He held her hand more closely. “It’s—Gordon—knocked down by a car on the Chipham Road—ten miles away. I knew he was calling there before he went to London. They were ringing from the Chipham Hospital and say he is bearing up wonderfully. They can’t get your father, —he hasn’t arrived at the office yet, so Gordon told them to get hold of me as his chief anxiety is that your mother must not be worried.”

  “If anything happens to him, it will—kill her,” Jessica said in despair, and then sobbingly, “Oh Gordon, dear Gordon.”

  Monty gave her a gentle shake.

  “No looking on the black side now,” he insisted firmly. “It’s up to you to be brave—as usual …” and then as she tried to smile—” Feeling better?”

  “Yes—I’ll be all right—directly.”

  He raised her hand to his lips.

  “That’s the stuff,” he said approvingly. “That’s my brave girl!…Now, I must be off—I’ll take the car and I’ll ring you as soon as I’ve seen him.”

  “Can I—can’t I come with you? No—of course not, I must stay here.”

  “And tell Paddy not to do any play-acting stunts,” Monty warned her. “Tell her to hold her tongue.”

  But Paddy had appare
ntly sensed disaster, for as Monty hurriedly left the house she came running downstairs.

  “What’s the mystery? “she demanded. “What’s Monty been talking to you about? If it’s anything to do with me——She took Jessica’s arm, shaking it impatiently. “What’s the matter? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Don’t speak so loudly,” Jessica implored. “We mustn’t let mother hear” and in a few broken words, she explained what had happened.

  “On the Chipham Road! “… Paddy said sharply —for that was the direction in which Gerard Winter had driven after she left him. “Whose car was it?”

  “I don’t know—they didn’t say——”

  There was a moment’s silence before Paddy spoke in her usual indifferent way—” Well, he can’t be so badly hurt to have told them to ring Monty. I expect the whole thing’s frightfully exaggerated as accidents always are.”

  “Isn’t that—a little heartless? “Jessica could not refrain from asking.

  Paddy shrugged her shoulders.

  “Probably,” she agreed. “But then I’ve never been credited with a heart, have I? Well, what do we do now? Just wait and see what happens I suppose. What a hateful world, isn’t it?”

  Jessica turned away without answering, to find Dilly hovering in the hall, her eyes wide with apprehension.

  “Is it more trouble, Miss Jessica?” she asked in a whisper. “I couldn’t help hearing Mr. Monty on the’phone——” The tears trickled down her cheeks as Jessica told her what had happened.

  “And Mr. Gordon was always so nice to me,” she said sorrowfully. “Never said a nasty word to me, he never did. The house won’t be the same if he never comes back.”

  Jessica winced. “We must hope for the best,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “Mr. Monty has promised to ring us as soon as he has seen him— and Dilly, Mother mustn’t be told yet—so you’ll be careful, won’t you, not to say anything.”

  Dilly nodded and brushed her tears away.

  “I’ve got a feeling it’ll be all right,” she declared. “And I’ll keep me fingers crossed.”

  But as he drove through the rain along the Chipham Road, Monty’s face was set and grim.

  “Badly injured we fear——” had been the reply to his question on the telephone, an admission which he had been afraid to repeat to Jessica.

  Well, it had been a pretty rotten day—starting as it had done with his own expulsion from Kirlou—not that it was in any way comparable with this second disaster. And the third thing? Not very consoling to remember that Paddy invariably insisted that troubles always came in threes, though perhaps the third trouble had already materialised in their broken engagement—if it could be called an’engagement’.

  A damned silly business, Monty told himself irritably— his fault of course, for rushing headlong into it because she had declared that Jessica was to marry the doctor-chap.

  Jessica was such a wonderful girl—his face softened as he thought of her patient, uncomplaining tolerance, and entire lack of selfishness. If only she would give him the chance to show that he could make her happy! to prove his unfailing devotion to her.

  Funny, that after all his years of determined bachelorhood he should have fallen so instantly and profoundly in love—’ at first sight’ as the romantics called it.

  The first girl who had ever really attracted him— and she would be the last, he was convinced, though who would believe it? he asked himself ruefully.

  And now he had been ordered out of Kirlou, he might never see her again, for of course she would side with her father and in spite of the fact that on his arrival she had so sweetly begged him to stay, no doubt in her heart of hearts she would be as thankful to see the back of him as the old man had declared be would be!

  Oh well—Monty slowed down as the hospital came into sight. A taxi-cab was turning into its wide open gate, and he drew up behind it at the main entrance, just as its door was flung open and Kirby Mansfield hurriedly alighted.

  Monty quickly joined him, feeling a little dubious as to the sort of reception he would receive, but Kirby grasped his arm as if he was the one friend he had longed to see, as he asked hoarsely,

  “How is he? What happened? I came as soon as I got the message. Took a taxi down as there was no damned train for half an hour. How is the boy?”

  “Bearing up wonderfully, they told me—” Monty answered with a confidence he was far from feeling. “Don’t worry. He’ll be all right, I’ll bet you.” Kirby still held his arm as a porter joined them and, after asking their names, led the way to a waitingroom.

  “I’ll tell the Matron you are here, sir.”

  He closed the door behind them, and as he did so a man rose from a chair by the fire, and it was Gerard Winter.

  His right arm was in a sling, and he looked pale and shaken, though he drew himself up with an attempt at jauntiness before he spoke.

  “Heard the news of course!…Not my fault!…Gordon crossed the road without looking behind him. I tried to pull up and to avoid him, but the car skidded and turned over, knocking him down. Been damaged myself, as you can see—so——”

  Kirby interrupted him with fierce intensity.

  “So it was you, was it!…Driving like the devil as usual, I suppose. I’ll pay you out for this—I’ll get your licence taken away. Ought to have been done months ago when you killed that dog in the village.” He turned to Monty, his face red with fury. “Winter’s a menace on the road, and always has been!…Thinks the world was made for him—just because he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and has never had to do a day’s work in his life. If anything happens to my son——” He shook his fist in Winter’s face. “Broken your arm, have you? Pity you didn’t break your damned neck.” He took a threatening step towards him, but Monty hurriedly intervened.

  “That’s enough, sir—let the fellow go. No use upsetting yourself—” and then, with an attempt to avert the obviously rising storm—” Accidents will happen, even in the best regulated families you know,” he added cheerfully.

  Gerard Winter turned on him in sudden fury.

  “You mind your own damned business,” he almost shouted. “I suppose you think you can rule the roost just because you were fool enough to save your future father-in-law from bankruptcy. Much good it will do you—you’ll be broke yourself before you know where you are—and a damned good job too. No one will be more pleased to see you down and out than I shall!”

  He turned towards the door, his eyes blazing but Kirby barred his way.

  “Say that again,” he challenged him, “say that again——” but Winter roughly pushed him aside, and was out of the room, banging the door behind him before either of them could stop him.

  There was a moment of profound silence before Kirby could speak, and he suddenly looked old and shattered as he turned to Monty—

  “Is it the truth? “he asked hoarsely. “The truth that it was you who—came to my rescue? “And when Monty remained silent—” I might have guessed —I might have guessed. And—only this morning I—ordered you out of the house… .”

  The door opened and a uniformed nurse appeared.

  “Mr. Mansfield? “she asked, and then—as Kirby inarticulately nodded—” Your son is asking for you— please come—quickly.”

  Chapter IX

  To Jessica—After Monty Had Left the House— every moment seemed an eternity. A hundred times she looked at the clock, confident that something must have happened to it, and it was no longer working, and every time there was the sound of a car in the road, or a footstep passing the gate she ran to the window, hoping in vain that it would be Monty returning.

  How many times she went up to her mother’s room she never knew, but each time Mrs. Mansfield was peacefully asleep, and Jessica tiptoed away again unutterably thankful that as yet she knew nothing of the tragedy which had overtaken them.

  Paddy was nowhere to be seen, and although Dilly —from the kitchen—was determinedly singing in rather
a doleful tone in an effort to appear optimistic the house seemed pathetically quiet and deserted.

  What was happening over at Chipham, Jessica asked herself in despair again and again? Had it been possible to get in touch with her father? And if Gordon—died! … She closed her eyes tightly in a vain attempt to shut out the thought— Gordon!— who, as they all knew was their mother’s favourite, although she would never have admitted it. Another look at the clock, but only five minutes had dragged by since she last glanced towards it.

  Dilly tiptoed across the hall.

  “I’ve brought you a cup of tea, Miss,” she announced. “It’ll do you good—you look so cold—” and then as Jessica thanked her, she went on with an encouraging smile, “There’s a black cat just walked in at the back door, and rubbed itself against my leg—and that’s a sign of good luck. Black cats are always lucky, they say, don’t they? so I gave it a saucer of milk, and Mr. Gordon will be all right now, I’m quite sure. Just drink your tea while it’s nice and hot, and before long we’ll be hearing good news.”

  If only I could believe it! Jessica thought, and then her heart seemed to almost stop beating as glancing towards the window she saw the car drive up to the gate with Monty and her father sitting side by side.

  Together!—after that bitter scene at breakfast time! Did it mean that the very worst had happened and that Gordon would never come home again?

  “There you are, Miss,” Dilly said delightedly. “What did I tell you? The Master and Mr. Monty together, and both of them looking quite cheerful! … I must go and give that blessed cat another saucer of milk——” and she scurried away, looking as pleased as if someone had suddenly left her a fortune, but Jessica stayed where she was—afraid to move, until Kirby walked into the room, closing the door behind him before asking urgently,

  “Does your mother know what has happened?”

  Jessica could only shake her head, but her father gave a profound sigh of relief.

  “Well, thank God, it’s not so bad as I feared— they say the boy will make a complete recovery, though it will take time, of course.” He suddenly shook his fist as if at an invisible foe. “But wait till I see that Winter fellow again—wait till I see him!… He’s got a broken arm already, but if he and I come face to face again, he won’t have a whole bone left in his confounded carcase——”