The Unknown Ajax (40 page)

Chapter 19

It was not quite fifteen minutes later that the Major entered the drawing-room; and he knew before he opened the door that the task of prolonging the interview between his grandfather and Lieutenant Ottershaw had imposed no very severe strain upon Vincent’s ingenuity. It even seemed improbable that he had found it necessary to take any steps at all to achieve his aim, for his lordship had plainly taken instant umbrage when informed that the Lieutenant had come armed with a warrant, and was in fine fighting fettle.

The scene was not quite what the Major had hoped it might be. It included two persons with whom he could well have dispensed: Lady Aurelia was still seated at the card-table; and Mrs. Darracott, attired in a dressing-gown, was standing beside her chair, her pretty countenance flushed, and her expression one of strong indignation. Lord Darracott was also seated at the card-table, his chair pushed back a little from it, and one leg crossed over the other. Before him, very stiff, stood the Lieutenant; standing in front of the fireplace was Vincent; and a stalwart Sergeant of dragoons had taken up a discreet position in the background. His mien was one of stern stolidity, but although his appearance was formidable to the uninitiated the Major was not uninitiated, and one glance was enough to inform him that Sergeant Hoole, while doggedly determined to do his duty, was very far from sharing the Lieutenant’s conviction that he had as good a right to force his way into a nobleman’s house as into a common person’s humbler dwelling.

The Sergeant was indeed wishing himself otherwhere. At no time (as the Major well knew) did he relish being placed at the orders of the Board of Customs; and when it came to being obliged to accompany a mere Riding-officer into the presence of a fierce old gentleman who reminded him forcibly of his own Colonel, he disliked it very much indeed, for it was quite evident to him, if not to Lieutenant Ottershaw (who was not by any means his notion of an officer), that the old lord was not one with whom it was at all safe to take what he felt increasingly sure was a gross liberty.

The Lieutenant was not entirely at his ease either, but he was upheld by a Calvinistic sense of duty, and he was not so much awed by Lord Darracott’s manner as resentful of it. He had convinced his superiors that an application for the warrant he had exhibited to his lordship was fully justified, but the attitude of the Board had been cautious and reluctant, and he knew that a mistake on his part would lead to consequences disastrous to his career. He was determined to execute the warrant, but how to do it, if Lord Darracott remained obstinate in opposing him, was unexpectedly difficult to decide. Nor had he been prepared for the presence of two ladies, one of whom was a Roman-nosed dowager of quelling aspect, and the other his quarry’s mother.

Mrs. Darracott’s entrance had followed hard upon his own, and was due, not to any apprehension that her son might stand in need of her protection, but to her conviction that the arrival of visitors at so late an hour could only mean that Matthew Darracott had returned to his ancestral home; and since this would entail such domestic duties as the making up of his bed, and the provision of a suitable supper, she very naturally wished to assure herself, before setting all these matters in train, that it was indeed he who had arrived. When she had entered the drawing-room to find her father-in-law berating a complete stranger, she would have retreated in haste, had his lordship not caught sight of her, and commanded her to come in, and listen to what the stranger (whom he described as an insolent whipstraw) was having the infernal impudence to say about her son. She seemed at first to be quite bewildered by the charge laid at Richmond’s door, but by the time Hugo came into the room she had passed from bewilderment to sparkling indignation.

Hugo’s entrance was a masterpiece of clumsy stealth. He opened the door cautiously, and having first looked round the edge of it, ventured to advance a few steps into the room, fixedly regarding his cousin Vincent. It was apparent to those who had observed his entrance that he wished to attract Vincent’s attention, and also that he was in a condition generally described as a little bit on the go. His appearance was not quite as neat as it might have been, and a singularly foolish smile dwelled on his lips. The Sergeant surveyed him dispassionately; his aunts, both of whom were facing towards the door, in considerable surprise; and Vincent, putting up his quizzing-glass, with languid contempt. This had the effect of making his lordship and Lieutenant Ottershaw look round, at which moment the Major sought, by dint of a wink, and a tiny jerk of his head towards the door, to convey to his cousin the information that he desired private speech with him.

Ottershaw, instantly on the alert, watched him suspiciously; my lord, irritated by his peculiar behaviour, said impatiently: “Oh, it’s you, is it? Don’t stand there like a moonling! What do you want?”

“Nay, I didn’t know you’d company!” said the Major sheepishly.

“I have not what you choose to call company! What the devil’s the matter with you, sir?” “Oh, there’s naught the matter!” Hugo hastened to assure him. “I just wondered whether my cousin was here!”

“And now that you know that I am here, in what way can I serve you?” said Vincent, with smooth mockery.

“Oh, it’s nothing of importance!” replied Hugo unconvincingly. He then became aware of Lieutenant Ottershaw, and exclaimed: “Ee, lad, I didn’t see it was you! What brings you here this late?”

“Unlike you, sir, I am here on a matter of considerable importance!” replied Ottershaw curtly. “Perhaps you can—”

“Eh, I’m sorry!” Hugo said, conscience-stricken. “I shouldn’t have come cluntering in on you!” Addressing himself to his grandfather, he added, apologetically: “I didn’t know there was anyone with you, sir! I’ll take myself off! Vincent lad, if you’re not throng, I’d be glad if you’d spare me a minute: got something to tell you! It’s just a private matter—nothing of consequence!”

Vincent regarded him with a faint, supercilious smile. “A trifle castaway, coz? I should be interested to know what you can possibly have to say to me of a private nature, but it happens that I am, as you put it, extremely throng. Oh, don’t look so discouraged! I’ll join you presently—if I must!”

“Nay, it won’t do presently: it’s what you might call urgent!” said the Major desperately. “Oh, for God’s sake—!” exploded Lord Darracott. “You’re disguised, sir! You can take yourself off—and if you’ll take this fellow whom you’re so devilish pleased to see with you I shall be obliged to you! And as for you, sir,” he said, rounding on Ottershaw, “I’ll see you damned before I’ll let you search my house!”

“Search the house?” repeated the Major, his eyes round with astonishment. “Whatever do you want to do that for, lad?”

“I have no wish to search the house!” said Ottershaw. “As I have already informed Lord Darracott, I am here to see Mr. Richmond Darracott, and that, sir, I am going to do! If his lordship doesn’t want his house to be searched, perhaps you can convince him that his only course is to produce Mr. Richmond! He seems strangely reluctant so to do, and I warn you—”

“You impertinent jack-at-warts, how dare you—”

“Nay, don’t start fratching!” begged the Major. He looked at Ottershaw, and shook his head. “You know, lad, you should know better than to come up here at this time of night! It’s no way to go about things. What’s more, you’ve no need to be in a pelter because our Richmond’s been playing tricks on you: I gave him a rare dressing, the night you and I watched him capering about in a sheet, and got the whole of it out of him, the young rascal! There’ll be no more of it: take my word for it! Eh, but you shouldn’t let yourself be hoaxed so easily, lad!” The Lieutenant, stiff as a ramrod, held out his warrant. “Perhaps, sir, you would like to read this! I am not here to enquire into any hoax!”

Hugo chuckled, but took the warrant, and perused it, apparently deriving considerable enjoyment from it. But he shook his head again, as he handed it back to Ottershaw, and said: “You’ve made a bad mistake, lad, but if you’re set on making a reet cod’s head of yourself there’s nowt I can do to stop you!”

During this exchange, Lord Darracott, glancing at Vincent, had encountered from Vincent’s hard eyes a steady look. It held his own suddenly arrested gaze perhaps for five seconds, and then dropped. Vincent drew out his snuffbox, tapped the lid and opened it, and delicately helped himself to a pinch, raising it to one sharp-cut nostril. As he inhaled, his eyes lifted again to his grandfather’s face, fleetingly this time, but still holding that curiously enigmatic expression. It was on the tip of Lord Darracott’s tongue to demand what the devil he meant by staring at him, but he refrained. It was unfamiliar, that hard stare, and it disturbed him; it was almost insolent, but Vincent was never insolent to him. His lordship, grasping that Vincent must be trying to convey a warning to him, but having as yet no clue to what it could be, curbed his tongue, and turned his angry gaze upon his heir. The Major, as everyone could see, was looking harassed, and rubbing his nose. He cast an eloquent glance at Vincent, who promptly responded to it, saying in a resigned tone: “Well, what is it, cousin? Don’t keep me in suspense any longer, I beg of you! It is quite obvious that you have something of great moment to disclose, but why yon are making such a mystery of it—dear me, how stupid of me! You appear to be so well-acquainted with Lieutenant—er—Ottershaw, is it not?—that it had not occurred to me that—” “Nay, I don’t mind him!” interrupted the Major ingenuously. “The thing is—” He gave a foolish laugh, and again rubbed his nose. “Eh, I’ve made a reet jumblement of it!” He turned once more to the Lieutenant, who was by this time almost quivering with rampant suspicion, and said confidentially: “Sithee, lad, the fact is, it’ll be a deal better if you shab off now, and come back tomorrow!”

“For you, sir, no doubt! But I have no inten—”

“It’ll be better for you too, think on!” remarked the Major, with a reflective grin. “You’ll get precious little sense out of our Richmond tonight, lad!” He added hastily, and with a wary glance at Mrs. Darracott: “At this hour of the night, I mean! Now, I’m not saying you can’t see him, because if you’ve a warrant to do it—”

“Hugo!” uttered Mrs. Darracott, unable to contain herself another instant. “This—this person is accusing my son of being a—a common smuggler!”

His grin broadened. “I’d give a plum to see him at it!” he said. “Nay, then, ma’am, don’t be nattered! The Lieutenant’s got a bee in his head, but I’m bound to say it was Richmond who put it there, so it’s not the Lieutenant you should be giving a scold to, but Richmond, the hey-go-mad young scamp that he is! If ever I met such a whisky-frisky, caper-witted lad! Anything for a bit of fun and gig! that’s his motto! You can’t but laugh at him, but one of these days he’ll find himself in the suds, and all for the sake of some silly hoax! Happen it wouldn’t do him any harm if he did get a bit of a fright, but we don’t want any more upsets—” “How dare you say Richmond is a scamp?” broke in Mrs. Darracott, bristling. “He is nothing of the sort! He has never given me a moment’s anxiety, and as for his being what you call a caper-witted, I have not the least guess what can have put such a notion into your head!” “No, dear aunt, of course you haven’t!” said Vincent. He sighed wearily. “I wondered if that was it. You have all my sympathy, Lieutenant—even though I must own I am devoutly thankful that you, and not I, have been his latest victim.”

“Vincent!” she cried indignantly. “Of all the ill-natured, false things to say! You know very well—”

“Be quiet!” interrupted his lordship harshly. “I will not endure any more of this nonsense! The boy doesn’t tell you what pranks he gets up to, ma’am, or me either! I’ve no doubt he plays all manner of tricks—all boys do so!—but let no one dare to tell me he has ever gone one inch beyond the line!” He glared at Ottershaw as he spoke, his breathing a little quickened, his face very grim.

“Eh, I know that, sir!” Hugo assured him, apparently taking this to himself. “Now, there’s no need for anyone to go giddy over the lad! And no need for you to think our Richmond’s being hidden from you, Ottershaw, just because his lordship don’t like getting visits at midnight from Riding-officers, and being told he’s to produce his grandson slap! Nor because I told you you’d do better to go away—which doesn’t mean that the lad’s not here! He’s here reet enough, but there are reasons why you’ve not just nicked the nick in choosing your time! The fact is there’s been a bit of an upset—”

“Why the devil couldn’t you have said so before?” demanded Vincent. “What sort of an upset?”

“Nay, I can’t explain it now! All I want—”

“Major Darracott!” suddenly interrupted the Lieutenant, “you are perhaps not aware that your cuff-band is bloodstained!”

The Major looked quickly at his wrist and then directed a quelling glance at Ottershaw. “Ay, well—never mind that! It’s of no consequence!”

“I must ask you to tell me, sir, how you come to have blood on your cuff, when you appear to have sustained no injury!”

He was somewhat taken aback by the Major’s response. Looking at him with a fulminating eye, the Major said, under his breath: “Sneck up, will you, dafthead?”

“Hugo, no!” Mrs. Darracott cried involuntarily, starting forward. “Richmond—? Not Richmond, Hugo, not Richmond! It isn’t true—it couldn’t be true!” “No, no, it’s got nothing to do with Richmond!” said Hugo, in exasperated accents, adding bitterly to the Lieutenant: “Now see what you’ve done!”

“Whom has it to do with?” demanded Vincent. “Come, out with it!”

“If you must have it, our Claud’s met with an accident!” said Hugo, in a goaded voice. He looked at Lady Aurelia, and said apologetically: “I didn’t mean to say it in front of you, ma’am, and, what’s more, Claud’ll be reet angry with me for doing it! There’s no cause for alarm, mind, but happen if you’d go down to the morning-room, Vincent—” “I will certainly go down. What happened? Did he cut himself?” “Nay, it’s not exactly a cut,” replied the Major-evasively.