Mrs. Fitz Part 46

This incident, which the Circus Proprietor had invested with such authority that it seemed perfectly in order, nearly led to the undoing of Jodey and his n.o.ble friend. Overborne by the emotion of the moment, they indulged in a little side show of their own. The toast of _le bon roi Edouard_ having been honoured in form the rest of the company sat down at once, but our two sportsmen remained upon their feet. Filling up their gla.s.ses, they turned towards the ill.u.s.trious guest and repeated the solemn formula:

"The King. G.o.d bless him!"

"Sit down, you a.s.ses," said the Chief Constable in a truculent undertone.

Nevertheless, the proprietor of the circus bowed to them and smiled paternally.

"One shouldn't look for too much," said the Vicar, "but I think the old fellow is a bit of a sportsman."

"Not at all a bad fellow," said honest George, expansively. "Not at all a bad fellow. Not at all a bad fellow."

However, a subtle fear lay within the breast of a married man, a father of a family, and a county member, lest our excellent Vicar had spoken in excess of his knowledge. I foresaw that the ordeal by fire was coming. When the ladies left the room desperation urged me to bestow a pointed hint upon the Church.

"Perhaps, Vicar," I said, plaintively, "if you joined the ladies? Not at all a bad fellow, you know, not at all a bad fellow, but perhaps not--er--altogether--don't you know!"

"None the worse for that," said the hardest riding parson in three counties, filling up his gla.s.s with composure and with cordiality. "If you think the old buffer can appreciate a yarn, I will tell that old one of my Uncle Jackson's. It is rather a chestnut these days, but perhaps he mayn't have heard it."

The clerical effort was by no means _vieux jeu_. And it is only just to the Church to mention that the style of the raconteur compared very favourably with that he affected in his vocation. Ferdinand the Twelfth guffawed heartily, and replied with a couple of masterpieces that brought the blush of shame to the cheek of modesty. I am afraid there was only one cheek, however, in which the emblem in question was able to find sanctuary, and truth compels me to a.s.sert that it was neither that of the Church nor the Police.

For nearly an hour by the clock the bottle was circulated and we were royally entertained. Ferdinand had had a rich and various experience of life. Much had he seen and done; he had made and unmade history; he was of the world, he loved it and he courted it; no personality had emerged upon the European chequer-board during the past half-century of whom he could not discourse out of a full and intimate knowledge. If it pleased him, he could pull aside the curtain and disclose the showman making the puppets dance in the political theatre.

He spoke with immense gusto; his zest of life was magnificent, and somewhat strangely there was nothing cynical or ign.o.ble about his point of view. For the best part of an hour he held the least wise of us in thrall. He had an abundance, an overplus of nature, and subtle and Jesuitical--for want of a happier word--as he doubtless was, there was something humane and great-hearted about him as a man.

He gave away the great ones of the earth, showing them in their habit as they dwelt. He made them neither less nor more than they were.

Naught was set down in malice, but his anecdotes mostly had a Rabelaisian tang which sprang from a prodigality of nature. He was a great and not unbeneficent force who drained the cup of life to the lees, smacked his lips heartily, and demanded more. His philosophy seemed to be to fear G.o.d but not to scruple to use to the full all the n.o.ble and infinite gifts of your inheritance. His rule of conduct, however, was not, to measure men by their strength but by their weakness. "Every man has his blind spot," he said, _apropos_ of Bismarck. "Find it and he is yours."

Such a crowded hour of wisdom, wit and historic revelation was an experience that even a dullard was not likely to forget. George Catesby and the Vicar alone were unacquainted with the ident.i.ty of our guest, and as far as they were concerned the cat was more or less out of the bag.

When we joined the ladies we found that card-tables had been set out.

Mrs. Arbuthnot and Coverdale engaged Mrs. Catesby and the King. No one watching the play could fail to be amused by the Circus Proprietor's caustic but good-humoured reflections upon the performance of his partner. The Great Lady bore it all, however, with a stoical humility.

To my surprise, she cut in for a second rubber, and her demeanour made it clear to Jodey, who disdained games like "_britch_" and preferred to watch the royal _partie_, "that she smelt a rat."

"I expect the show has pretty well given itself away by now," he said in an aside to his host, "but anyhow they have been scored off properly."

The mystery of "scoring off" was still too much for my inadequate mental processes. But I gathered that there was a consensus of opinion among persons of a more vivid intellectual cast that such indeed was the case.

"We sha'n't half pull her leg, I don't think"--in the exuberance of the hour the young fellow relapsed into a semi-lyrical music-hall comedy vein--"about the old circus johnny who drank a health unto his Majesty.

I only wish old Alec had been there, that's all."

"A digger, madame, a digger," said the Circus Proprietor in a tone of humorous expostulation, "when you haf not a treek!"

The Great Lady accepted the reproof with Christian meekness.

It was not until hard upon midnight that the departing guest was sped in divers chariots; the Church in the identical "one-hoss shay" of inimitable and pious memory. "So many thanks, Mrs. Arbuthnot, for a really _memorable_ evening," said the Church, with a wave of a somewhat unclerical bowler.

Plutocracy in the little person of Mrs. Josiah P. Perkins had a Daimler of sixty horse power. She gave a lift to a less fortunate sister in the person of Miss Laura Glendinning. The Great Lady and the excellent George, "a good vintage sound but dull," as I have heard him described by a friend and neighbour, had recourse to a medium of travel of twelve horse power only, as became the representatives of our sorely impoverished land-owning cla.s.s.

"_Such_ a success, my dear!" said the Great Lady, bestowing her parting blessing. "But," in a voice of mystery, "I shall _insist_ upon the whole thing being cleared up."

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE WRITING ON THE WALL

The morning which followed these tempered gaieties was cold and bright.

The King borrowed my nicest gun and, accompanied by his son-in-law, our retainer Andrew, and an old field spaniel who answered to the name of Gyp, proceeded to put up a hare or two in the stubble. My physical state precluded my raising a gun to my shoulder, but I deemed it wise to be of the party. Accidents have been known to occur, and--but perhaps it is well not to pursue this vein of speculation.

Destiny is a vague term which provides the veil of decency for many secrets, and firearms have often been the chosen instruments of its decrees. Doubtless I was growing too imaginative. Certainly the adventures I had undergone during the past few weeks had left a mark upon my nerves, but when I recalled our vigil, which was still so fresh in my thoughts as to seem strange and terrible, I could not view the prospect of Ferdinand the Twelfth and his dutiful son-in-law sharing the innocent pastime of a little rough shooting without a secret fear.

I am glad to say that the course of the morning's sport lent no colour to this apprehension. The King was an excellent shot, and even a strange gun made little difference to his prowess. He displayed both science and accuracy. But to see him standing cheek by jowl with Fitz, each with a c.o.c.ked weapon in his hand; to watch them scramble through gaps and over stiles and five-barred gates, for in spite of his years and his physique Ferdinand was a wonderfully active man who took an almost boyish pride in his bodily condition, was to feel that the life of either was hanging by a thread.

However, as I have said, all this was the unworthy fruit of an overwrought imagination. The sportsmen returned to luncheon safe and sound, with a modest bag of the fowls of the air and the beasts of the field.

In the afternoon, at the instance of Mrs. Arbuthnot, whose happy thought it was, we all motored over to inspect the Castle. The Family was understood to be in Egypt, and the ducal stronghold is the show place of the district.

The rumour as to the Family's whereabouts proved to be correct, and a profitable hour was spent in the casual study of magnificence. The King took a genuine interest in all that he saw. In particular he was charmed with the view from the terrace, which is modelled upon Versailles, with a long and far-spreading vista of oaks and beeches and a herd of deer in the foreground.

He expressed a keen appreciation of the Duke's collection of works of art; yet he permitted himself to wonder that a private individual should have such pictures, such tapestries, such furniture, such porcelain, such armour, such metal work, such carpets, such painted ceilings and heaven knows what besides.

"It is pretty well for a subject," said Ferdinand the Twelfth.

"His Grace of Dumbarton, sir," said I, "owns four other places in these islands on a similar scale of magnificence; he owns a million and a quarter acres, of which a portion is in great centres of industry, his income is rather more than 500,000 a year, and he is accustomed in his public utterances to describe himself as a member of a poor but deserving cla.s.s."

Ferdinand the Twelfth pondered a moment with an amused yet wary smile.

"If he lived in Illyria," he said, "I think his grace would have to be content with less, eh, Schalk?"

"It would not surprise me, sir," said the Chancellor, with an expressive shrug. "I confess it does not appear economically sound for a State to allow its private citizens to acc.u.mulate such quant.i.ties of treasure. Whatever the measure of their public capacity I fail to see how they can rise to their responsibilities."

"But if," said I, "the State mulcts his grace of a farthing's-worth, it is immediately denounced as a robber. Property is the most sacred thing we know in this country."

"His grace came by all this honestly, I hope?" said the King, with an amused air.

"He came by it under forms of law, certainly."

"Which he himself did not make, I hope!" said the King, laughing.

"No, sir; his grandfather and the nominees of his grandfather and so on managed that little business. Quite a const.i.tutional proceeding, of course."

"I appreciate that," said Ferdinand the Twelfth, with his subtle smile.

"The British Const.i.tution has long been the envy of nations. I suppose our friend the Duke is a man of great public spirit who has rendered signal service to the British Empire."

"On the contrary, he prefers the pleasant obscurity of the English gentleman."

"His forbears, then?"