The Unknown Ajax (18 page)

“You are too unkind, Mama! My dear Hugh, pray make the fullest use of Crimplesham! Your need, after all, is greater than mine. How could I be so selfish as to grudge him to you?” “Nay, I don’t know,” drawled Hugo amiably.

Lord Darracott put a summary end to the discussion, as Chollacombe came into the room to announce dinner. “I’ve had enough of this damned folly!” he said. “One of you—you, Richmond!—may write to Lissett for me by tomorrow’s post, and tell him to send down a valet for your cousin. Let me hear no more about it!”

“I’m much obliged to you,” said Hugh mildly, “but there is no need for our Richmond to trouble himself,”

Lord Darracott paused on his way to the door to glare at him. “I say you are to have a valet, and a valet you will have!”

“Oh, I’ll do that, sir!” replied Hugo. “It’s just that I’ve a fancy to engage one for myself.” “You should have done so before you came here!”

“I should, of course,” Hugo agreed.

“You’re a fool.” snapped his lordship. “Where do you imagine you will find one here?” “Well, I think I’ll give Crimplesham’s nephew a trial,” said Hugo. “That is, if my cousin Vincent’s got no objection.”

“It is a matter of indifference to me,” shrugged Vincent.

It was not, however, a matter of indifference to Claud. Waiting only until his grandfather had walked out of the room behind the ladies of the party, he said indignantly: “Well, if that’s not the outside of enough! Crimplesham’s nephew!”

“Why, what’s wrong with him?” enquired Hugo.

“Everything’s wrong with him! For one thing, we don’t know anything about the fellow, and for another thing, Polyphant won’t like it. Yes, and now I come to think of it I’m dashed if I like it! Here am I, fagging myself to death with thinking how to bring you up to the knocker, lending you some of my best neckcloths, let alone Polyphant to put you in the way of arranging them, and first you set Polyphant’s back up by sending him off, and allowing Crimplesham to help you to dress, and now you’ve settled to hire a valet without a word to me! Dashed well tipping me a rise!”

“No, no, I never settled it until a minute ago!” protested Hugo. “Now, don’t flusk at me! I’m engaging in no flights with you, or anyone, if I can avoid it. Come in to dinner before the old gentleman starts putting himself in a passion!”

They entered the dining-room in time to forestall this disaster. My lord, just about to take his seat at the head of the table, had indeed turned his frowning eyes towards the door, but he made no comment. To Mrs. Darracott’s relief, he seemed to be in one of his more mellow moods, which was surprising, since he had undergone the unusual experience of having his will crossed. She had quaked for Hugo, knowing how intolerant of opposition my lord was; she had even shaken her head warningly at him, but the poor young man had not grasped the meaning of her signal, merely smiling at her in a childlike way that showed how far he was from appreciating the perils of his situation. It was a thousand pities, she thought, that he should be so very slow-witted, and so prone to allow his origins to show themselves in his speech, for in all other respects he seemed to be an excellent person. Mrs. Darracott, in fact, was developing a marked kindness for the hapless heir. Her mettlesome daughter might say what she chose in condemnation of what she called his want of spirit, but for her part Mrs. Darracott had no fault to find with an amiable temper and a docile disposition. In her view there were already far too many persons at Darracott Place endowed with spirit. No good had ever yet come from thwarting the head of the house, she thought, remembering with an inward shudder the devastating battles that had been fought when Granville and Rupert had been alive. Nor would any good that she could perceive come from Hugo’s joining issue with Vincent. In wit, he was no match for Vincent, and if it came to blows (as she had the liveliest apprehension that it would) the resulting situation, whichever of them won the encounter, would be such as she preferred not to contemplate. It was surprising that my lord had allowed Hugo to countermand his order to Richmond, for although the matter might have been thought too trivial for argument, his autocracy was becoming every day more absolute, and his temper more irritable. Lady Aurelia said that these were signs of senility, but Mrs. Darracott was unable to draw much comfort from this pronouncement. His lordship was certainly eighty years of age, but anyone less senile would have been hard to find. His energy would have shamed many a younger man, and no one, seeing him ride in after a hard day’s hunting, would have supposed him to be a day over fifty.

Perhaps it was Hugo’s horsemanship which had saved him from having his nose snapped off. My lord had watched him riding home across the park with Anthea, and there was no doubt that he had been agreeably surprised, for he had told Matthew that at all events the fellow had an excellent seat, and (unless he much mistook the matter) good, even hands. Mrs. Darracott recognised this as praise of a high order, and ventured to indulge the hope that Hugo was beginning to insinuate himself into his grandsire’s good graces. She saw my lord look at Hugo several times as he sat talking to Anthea; it would have been too much to have said that there was kindness in his expression, but she fancied that there was a certain measure of approval.

Unfortunately this was short-lived. With the withdrawal of the ladies, and the removal of the cloth from the table, Hugo’s fortunes fell once more into eclipse. “I can let you have some cognac, if you want it,” my lord said to Matthew, who had moved round the table to take his wife’s vacated chair. “Tell Chollacombe to put some up for you!”

“Take care, sir!” said Vincent warningly. “I feel reasonably sure that what you are offering my father paid no duty at any port.”

“Of course it didn’t!” replied his lordship. “Do you take me for a slow-top?” “Far from it!” smiled Vincent. “You are awake upon every suit, sir. I apprehend, however, that there is an enemy in our midst.” He turned his head to look at Hugo, a mocking challenge in his eyes. “You are opposed to the trade, are you not, coz?”

It was Richmond who betrayed discomfiture, not Hugo. Richmond flushed hotly, and kept his eyes lowered, wishing that he had not confided in Vincent; Hugo replied cheerfully: “If you mean the free trade, yes: I am.”

Lord Darracott, bending a fierce stare upon him, barked: “Oh, you are, are you? And what the devil do you think you know about it?”

“Not much,” Hugo answered.

“Then keep your tongue between your teeth!”

“Oh, I’ll do that reet enough!” Hugo said reassuringly. He bestowed an affable smile upon Vincent, and added: “Chance it happens you were thinking I might inform against you—” “Inform!” exclaimed Matthew. “Good God, what maggot have you got into your head? You don’t, I trust, imagine that your grandfather—any of us!—is in league with smugglers?” “Nay, I’d never think such a thing of you, sir!” said Hugo, shocked.

Matthew’s colour mounted a little. “You may be very sure—My department has nothing to do with the Customs: I daresay I know as little about smuggling as you do!” “Now, don’t you start shamming it!” interrupted his father. “I’m not in league with the free-traders, and I’m not in league with the tidesman either, but by God, sir, if I had to choose between ’em I’d support the Gentlemen! That’s the name they go by here: more worthy of it, too, than these damned Excisemen! A shuffling set! Maw-worms, most of ’em, feathering their nests! I can tell you this; for every petty seizure that’s made there are a dozen cargoes winked at!”

“Oh, well, no, Father!” said Matthew uneasily. “It’s not as bad as that! I don’t deny that there have been cases, perhaps—The pay is bad, and the rewards not large enough, you see, Hugh.” “I thought you knew nothing about it?” jeered his lordship. “Some things are common knowledge, sir.”

“Yes, and everyone knows that at many of the regular ports they bring the cargoes in as openly as you please, and how much is declared and how much is slipped through is just a matter of—oh, arrangement between the Revenue officer and the captains of the vessels!” said Richmond.

“Nay, lad, what difference does that make?” said Hugo. “Dishonesty amongst the Preventives doesn’t alter the case.”

“Of course it doesn’t!” Matthew said, rather shortly. “Freetrading is to be deplored—no one denies that!—but while the duties remain at their present level, particularly on such commodities as tea and tobacco and spirits, the temptation to evade—” “While duties remain at their present level,” interrupted his lordship grimly, “the Board of Customs will get precious little support for its land-guard. Land-guard! Much hope they have of stopping the trade! By God, it puts me out of all patience when I heard that more and more money is being squandered on so-called Prevention! Now we are to have special coastguards, or some such tomfoolery! I’ll lay you any odds the rascals will run the goods in under their noses.”

“Oh, I should think undoubtedly,” agreed Vincent. “I am not personally acquainted with any of the Gentlemen—at least, not to my knowledge—but I have the greatest admiration for persons so full of spunk. I am unhappily aware that they have more pluck than I have.” Richmond laughed, but Matthew said in a displeased voice: “I wish you will not talk in that nonsensical style! A very odd idea of you Hugh will have!”

“Oh, no, do you think so, Papa? Have you an odd idea of me, cousin? Or any idea of me?” Hugo shook his head. “Nay, I’m not judging you,” he said gently.

Matthew stared at him for a moment, and then gave a reluctant laugh. “Well, there’s for you, Vincent!”

“As you say, sir. Something in the nature of a half-armed stop. Do enlighten my ignorance, cousin! Does your very proper dislike of the Gentlemen arise from—er—an innate respectability, or from some particular cause, connected, perhaps, with the wool-trade?” “There’s no owling done now!” Richmond objected.

“What’s owling?” asked Claud, with a flicker of interest.

“Oh, smuggling wool out of the country! But that was when there was a law against exporting wool, and ages ago, wasn’t it, Grandpapa? There used to be a great deal of it done all along the coast.”

“I wasn’t thinking of that,” said Hugo. “There were two things smuggled out of the country, and into France, while we were at war with Boney, that did more harm than owling.” “Why, what?” demanded Richmond, frowning.

“Guineas and information. Did you never hear tell of the guinea boats that were built in Calais? It was before your time, and before mine too, but it was English gold that kept the First Empire above hatches. Boney used to encourage English smugglers. He came by a deal of information that didn’t make our task any the easier.”

Richmond looked rather daunted; but Lord Darracott said testily: “No doubt! Possibly we too came by information through the same channel. Do you imagine yourself to be the only person here who thinks smuggling a bad thing? We all think it! It sprang from a damned bad cause, and until that’s removed it will go on, and so it may for anything I’ll do to stop it! Don’t you talk to me about the rights and wrongs of it! Bad laws were made to be broken!” He stopped, his hands clenching on the arms of his chair, for a chuckle had escaped Hugo. Vincent put up his glass, and eyed his cousin through it. “I do trust you mean to share the joke with us?” he said.

“I was just thinking what a pudder we’d be in, if every Jack rag of us set about breaking all the laws we weren’t suited with,” explained Hugo, broadly grinning. “Donnybrook Fair would be nothing to it, that road!”

Chapter 9 Richmond, knowing that his indiscreet confidence to Vincent was largely to blame for Hugo’s fall from grace, tried gallantly to intervene; but it was Claud who saved Hugo from annihilation. To everyone’s surprise, he suddenly said: “Well, Hugo’s right! No question about it!” He looked up to discover that a singularly baleful stare from his grandfather’s hard eyes was bent upon him, and blanched a little. “Well, what I mean is,” he said manfully, though in a less decided tone, “no harm in buying run brandy, though I shouldn’t’ do it myself, because I don’t like brandy above half. The thing is you don’t know where it’s going to stop. Not the brandy. Running it.”

“I collect that some meaning lies behind these cryptic utterances,” remarked Vincent. “Or am I indulging optimism too far?”

“Much too far!” said Lord Darracott gratingly.

“No, you ain’t!” retorted Claud, stung. “What’s more, if you’d as much know as you think you have, you wouldn’t ask me what I mean, because it’s as plain as a pikestaff!” “Is that to my address?” demanded his lordship ominously.

“No, no, sir! Good God, no!” said Claud hastily. “Talking to my brother! Besides, you do know what I mean: you told us all about it yourself! Hawkhurst Gang!” “The Hawkhurst Gang!” ejaculated his lordship, and fell suddenly into silence. “Yes, of course no one wants—But that was years ago!” Richmond said. “Nothing like that happens nowadays!”

“It could, though,” said Claud. “Never thought about it much before, but now I do come to think about it, I’m dashed if I don’t think it’s bound to happen!”

“Nonsense!” snapped his lordship.

“Well, Father—” said Matthew hesitantly, “one must hope, of course—but I own that there is a great deal of sense in what Claud says.’ He looked across the table at Hugo, and said: “The Hawkhurst Gang was a pernicious set of ruffians—smugglers, you understand—that held a rule of terror over the countryside when your grandfather was a boy. They committed every sort of atrocity, and were so strong in numbers—how many men was it they were able to muster within an hour, Father?”

“I forget,” returned his lordship shortly.