The Master of the Ceremonies Part 42

"Your fair enslaver--Cora Dean!"

Richard looked up at him keenly and laughed as they left the house, ignorant of the fact that Cora was watching them intently, and Mrs Dean was keeping up a running fire of comment on what she called her "gal's foolery."

Mellersh led the way at a good brisk pace along the parade, and they had not gone far before they became aware of the tall figure of the Master of the Ceremonies showing himself, as was his wont, king of the place apparently, and bowing and acknowledging bows.

Richard Linnell drew his breath with a slight hiss, but there was no avoiding the encounter, and as they drew near and raised their hats, there was a smile and most courteous bow for Colonel Mellersh, and the most distant of salutes for his companion.

"Old impostor," said the Colonel, as they took the first turning and made for the country beyond the Downs.

"No," said Richard Linnell gravely, "I don't think him that. He is a gentleman at heart, fond of his children, and his ways are forced upon him by his position."

"Fond of his children! Bah! As objects of merchandise. I tell you, d.i.c.k, I hate the man."

"And when you hate a man you are unjust."

"Not here. My dear d.i.c.k, you look at old Denville through rose-coloured gla.s.ses. Pah! I detest him, and, by Jove, sir, I don't acquit him of some knowledge of that terrible affair at his house."

"Colonel Mellers.h.!.+"

"My dear boy!"

They walked on in silence for a few minutes, and then, clear now of the town, Colonel Mellersh exclaimed:

"My dear d.i.c.k, you have always known my feelings regarding this unfortunate attachment."

"Yes," said the young man sadly.

"She is very beautiful, but see how she has been brought up. Look at her sister--a weak, vain, foolish child more than a married woman, about whom there is bound to be some scandal soon."

"Can the sister help that?"

"Look at the brother; that careless young ne'er-do-weel, who is to be trained up in his father's steps."

"Poverty seems to be their greatest sin," replied Richard quietly.

"Then, there is another son, who quarrelled with the father and went off and enlisted. My dear d.i.c.k, is such a family one that you ought to enter?"

"My dear Colonel," said Richard with a sad smile, "I do not seem likely to enter it. You saw the look old Denville gave me. But, for heaven's sake, don't throw out hints again about that murder."

"Very well, but you must promise me that there shall be an end to all this infatuation. I speak as your father's oldest and dearest friend, and as one who feels as if he had a share in you--you reckless wild young scapegrace."

"I can promise nothing," said Richard coldly.

"Not now that you have been dragged into this serious affair?"

"Miss Denville has dragged me into no serious affair. Her conduct to me has always been that of a refined and modest lady."

"My dear boy! Have you forgotten that this has been going on between her and Rockley for months?"

"There is nothing between Major Rockley and Miss Denville," said Richard hoa.r.s.ely; and his cheeks began to burn and his eyes to flash.

"d.i.c.k! Have you forgotten the serenade that night?"

"Have I forgotten it!" cried Richard fiercely.

"Well, what does that show?"

"That this scoundrel--this _roue_--this libertine--dared to cast his vile eyes on as sweet and pure a girl as ever breathed. Look here, Colonel Mellersh--no, no--my dear old friend--I found that dog insulting Miss Denville."

"Where?"

"Away there, beyond the Downs, out past the fishermen's cottages."

"How came Claire Denville out there alone with one of the wildest officers at the barracks?"

"Heaven knows," cried Richard. "I tell you I found him grossly insulting her, and I took the dog's whip from him, and thrashed him till my arm ached."

"And the lady flung herself into your arms, called you her gallant, her brave preserver, and you embraced and swore fidelity, while the wicked villain, the dog that you had thrashed, sneaked off snarling, with his tail between his legs."

Richard turned upon him fiercely, but he checked his anger as he met the Colonel's mocking eyes.

"You do not know Claire Denville," he said coldly.

"But, d.i.c.k, lad, come--there was the embracing and thanks?"

"Miss Denville is a sweet, true lady," said Richard, "whom I fear I may never win."

"Never win!" said the Colonel mockingly. "d.i.c.k, d.i.c.k, what a child you are! I used, a year or two back, to be glad you were so different to the other men here; but now I almost regret that you have not led a faster life. You are such an innocent boy."

"Shall we turn back?" said Richard abruptly.

"Turn back, man, no. We have not said a word yet about your meeting.

Don't be angry with me, lad. Believe me, I am one of your truest friends."

"I know it," cried Richard warmly; "but don't talk of my love affair.

We shall never agree till the scales of prejudice have dropped from your eyes."

"Till the scales of a boyish folly have dropped from yours, d.i.c.k. Well, we shall be in accord some day. If I'm wrong I'll humbly ask your pardon."

"And if I'm wrong I will yours," cried Richard. "Now, then, what of Payne's visit?"

"You will have to meet the Major," said the Colonel gravely.

"Yes, I suppose so. He could not forgive such an insult as that."

"You treat it very lightly, d.i.c.k. The consequences may be very grave."

"I hope not," said Richard. "I am not a soldier, but I am not going to show the white feather, even if I wear it in my heart."