Our Admirable Betty Part 48

"Look'ee Bet, I'll allow you've a head, but this fellow's dangerous."

"How so, Charles?"

"Well, he's not afraid o' ghosts for one thing----"

"Ghosts?"

"Y'see Bet, when I reached Westerham my difficulty was to get word with you and for the first night and day or so I lay hid in the ruined mill.

And having nought better to do, I started to haunt the place and by means of an old sack and a pair of ram's horns I contrived to be a sufficiently convincing ghost----" Here his lords.h.i.+p chuckled.

"'Twas madness, Charles."

"So 'twas and yet, I vow----" His lords.h.i.+p chuckled again.

"But what of Mr. Dalroyd, Charles?"

"Faith, he took such a plaguy interest in the haunted mill that I left it and took to haunting the churchyard instead--used to hide in a mouldy vault----"

"Charles!" cried Lady Betty and shuddered.

"Finally he and his fellow hunted me out o' that and here I am.

Haunting hath its drawbacks and 'twould have saved me much of discomfort had you received the letter I writ you and sent by the little girl."

"Tell me again what was in it, Charles."

His lords.h.i.+p scratched his head and wrinkled youthful brow.

"So far as I remember, Bet, I writ you these words: 'Meet me at midnight in your garden with fifty guineas for your loving and misfortunate fugitive, Charles.'"

Lady Betty set her chin on white fist and stared at her brother so fixedly that he choked upon his last mouthful of supper and remonstrated:

"Gad, Bet, why d'ye fix a man so wi' such great eyes? What might ye be thinking this time?"

"That we are grown more like each other than ever, dear--'tis marvellous! Aye, 'tis marvellous," she continued absently, "though your voice will never do!"

"Voice, Bet? Egad, what's in your mind now?"

"Mr. Dalroyd, Charles, for one thing."

"Aye, and what of the fellow?"

"Would he were choked with a flap-dragon. But--meanwhile----"

"What, Betty?"

"Hark, there's aunt wailing for me, I must go. You are free of all the upper chambers of this wing, but mind, if I whistle you must get you into hiding at once."

So saying, she shook portentous finger at him, smiled and vanished.

CHAPTER XXVI

OF BACCHUS AND THE MUSES

Seldom or never, in all its length of days, had the great dining room of the ancient hostelry of the "George and Dragon" glowed with such sartorial splendour or known such an elegant posturing of silk-clad legs, such a flirting of ruffles, such a whirl of full-skirted coats; coats, these, of velvet, of worked satin and rich brocade, coats of various colours from Sir Benjamin's pink and gold to Lord Alvaston's purple and silver; the light of many candles scintillated in jewelled cravat and shoe-buckle, shone upon crested b.u.t.tons and on the glossy curls of huge periwigs, black, brown and gold. In the midst of this gorgeous company stood a short, stoutish gentleman, his booted legs wide apart, his sun-burned face nearly as red as his weatherbeaten service coat, a little man with a truculent eye.

"Od's my life, my lord Colonel!" exclaimed Sir Benjamin, wringing his hand, "I know not what propitious zephyr hath wafted George Cleeve into these Arcadian solitudes, but hem! being hither I do protest you shall this night sit the honoured guest of good-Fellows.h.i.+p, Bacchus and the Muses, shedding upon our poetical revels the--the effulgence of your hem! your glories, gracing our company with, I say with the----"

"Hold, Ben!" sighed my Lord Alvaston, making graceful play with his slender legs, "hold hard, Ben, an' get your wind while I 'splain. Sir, what poor Ben's been tryin' t' tell you 'n' can't tell you is--that we shall rejoice if you'll sup with us. And so say we all----"

"Strike me dumb if we don't!" added the Marquis.

"Haw!" muttered the Captain. "B'gad! So we do!"

"Gentlemen," said the Colonel, "I protest ya' do me too much honour, 'tis curst polite in ya' and I take it kindly, rot me, kindly!"

"Od's body, sir," cried Sir Benjamin, "the honour is completely ours, I vow, your exploits in Flanders and Brabant sir, your notable achievements on the stricken fields of Mars, the very name of Colonel Lord George Cleeve coruscates with hem! with glory, s.h.i.+nes like--like--a----"

"Star," suggested the Captain. Hereupon Lord Cleeve bowed, the company bowed, shot their ruffles, fluttered their handkerchiefs and snuffed with one another.

"Hem!" exclaimed Sir Benjamin with an air of ponderous waggery, "as I was saying when my Lord Cleeve dropped upon us so happily, 'tis then agreed that Alton and I shall see the Major home at peep o' day!" Here Sir Benjamin grew so waggish that he very nearly laid plump finger to nose but checked himself in time and coughed instead. "I vow 'twill be an honour, for, foxed or no and despite his hem! his rusticity, Major d'Arcy is a gentleman, a----"

"Ha!" exclaimed the Colonel suddenly. "Do ya' mean Jack d'Arcy o' the Third, sir--d'Arcy of Churchill's regiment?" Sir Benjamin bowed and smiled:

"You know him, my lord? A simple, quiet, kindly soul----"

His lords.h.i.+p stared, laughed a short, hoa.r.s.e bellow and, becoming immediately solemn, nodded:

"That's Jack to a hair, simple, quiet and dev'lish deadly! 'Twas so he looked, I mind, when he killed the greatest rogue and duellist in the three armies. Simple and quiet! Aye, 'twas so he seemed when he led us to the storming of the counterscarp at Namur in '95, as he was when he rallied our broken ranks at Blenheim and, after, when we turned the French right at Oudenarde. He was my senior in those days and where he went I followed and they called him 'Fighting d'Arcy' though a simple soul, sir, as ya' say. I was behind him when he led us against the French left at Ramillies and broke it too. I saw him dragged, all blood and dust, out o' the press at Malplaquet. 'Done for at last,'

thought I--but Gad, sirs, they couldn't kill Fighting d'Arcy for all his quiet looks and simple ways! Aye, I know Jack, we were brothers, and like brothers we drank together, slept, quarrelled, and fought together--he seconded me in my first affair of honour!"

"Od's my life!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Sir Benjamin. "Our rustic philosopher turns out a very Mars, a thundering Jove, a paladin----"

"True blue, damme!" added the Marquis.

"And yonder he comes," said Mr. Marchdale at the window, "and Merivale with him."

"Nunky," said the Viscount as they entered the hospitable portal of the "George and Dragon," "Ben and Alvaston are set on seeing you comfortably faxed to-night."

"Foxed? Ah, you mean drunk, Tom?"

"Perfectly sir, all in the way of friends.h.i.+p and good-fellows.h.i.+p of course, still I thought I'd let you know."

"For the which I am duly and humbly grateful, Tom," answered the Major as, opening the door, the Viscount bowed and stood aside to give him precedence.

The Major's appearance was hailed with loud cheers and cries of "Fighting d'Arcy," drowned all at once in a hoa.r.s.e roar as, with a tramp and jingle of heavy, spurred boots, Colonel Lord George Cleeve ran at him, thumped him and clasped him in a bear's hug: