The Wild Geese Part 37

Payton a.s.sented. He was still brooding on his enemy, the Colonel, and his probable arrival on the morrow. Curse the man, he was thinking. Why couldn't he keep out of his way?

"Take the Major in, McMurrough," Asgill said, who on his side was on tenter-hooks lest Flavia and Morty O'Beirne should arrive from the Tower. "You'll like to get rid of your boots before supper, Major?" he went on. "Bid Darby send the Major's man to him, McMurrough; or, better, I'll be going to the stables myself and I'll be telling him!"

As the others went in, Asgill strolled on this pretext towards the stables. But when they had pa.s.sed out of sight he turned and walked along the lake to meet the girl and her companion. As he walked he had time to think, and to decide how he might best deal with Flavia, and how much and what he should tell her. When he met them, therefore--by this time the night was falling--his first question related to their errand, and to that which an hour before had been the one pre-occupation of all their minds.

"Well," he said, "he'll not have yielded yet, I am thinking?"

Dark as it was, the girl averted her face to hide the trouble in her eyes. She shook her head. "No," she said, "he has not."

"I did not count on it," Asgill replied cheerfully. "But time--time and hunger and patience--devil a doubt he'll give in presently."

She did not answer, but he fancied--she kept her face averted--that she s.h.i.+vered.

"While you have been away, something has happened," he continued. After all, it was perhaps as well, he reflected, that Payton had come. His coming, even if Flavia did not encounter him, would divert her thoughts, would suggest an external peril, would prevent her dwelling too long or too fancifully on that room in the Tower, and on the man who famished there. She hated the Colonel, Asgill believed. She had hated him, he was sure. But how long would she continue to hate him in these circ.u.mstances? How long if she learned what were the Colonel's feelings towards her? "An unwelcome guest has come," he continued glibly, "and one that'll be giving trouble, I'm fearing."

"A guest?" Flavia repeated in astonishment. She halted. What time for guests was this? "And unwelcome?" she added. "Who is it?"

"An English officer," Asgill explained, "from Tralee. He is saying that the Castle has heard something, and has sent him here to look about him."

Naturally the danger seemed greater to the two than to Asgill, who knew his man. Words of dismay broke from Flavia and O'Beirne. "From Tralee?"

she cried. "And an English officer? Good heavens! Do you know him?"

"I do," Asgill answered confidently. "And, believe me or no, I can manage him." He began to appreciate this opportunity of showing himself the master of the position. "I hold him, like that, not the least doubt of it; but the less we'll be doing for him the sooner he'll be going, and the safer we'll be! I would not be so bold as to advise," he continued diffidently, "but I'm thinking it would be no worse if you left him to be entertained by the men."

"I will!" she cried, embracing the idea. "Why should I be wanting to see him?"

"Then I think he'll be ordering his horse to-morrow!"

"I wish he were gone now!" she cried.

"Ah, so do I!" he replied, from his heart.

"I will go in through the garden," she said.

He a.s.sented; it was to that point he had been moving. She turned aside, and for a moment he bent to the temptation to go with her. Since the day on which he had voluntarily left the house at the Colonel's dictation he had made progress in her favour. He was sure that he had come closer to her--that she had begun not only to suffer his company, but to suffer it willingly. And here, as she pa.s.sed through the darkling garden under the solid blackness of the yews, was an opportunity of making a further advance. She would have to grope her way, a reason for taking her hand might offer, and--his head grew hot at the thought.

But he thrust the temptation from him. He knew that it was not only the stranger's presence that weighed her down, but her recollection of the man in the Tower and his miserable plight. This was not the time, nor was she in the mood for such advances; and, putting pressure on himself, Asgill turned from her, satisfied with what he had done.

As he went on with Morty, he gave him a hint to say as little in Payton's presence as possible, and to leave the management to him. "I know the man," he explained, "and where he's weak. I'm for seeing the back of him as soon as we can, but without noise."

"There's always the bog," grumbled Morty. He did not love Asgill overmuch, and the interview with the Colonel had left him in a restive mood.

"And the garrison at Tralee," Asgill rejoined drily, "to ask where he is! And his troopers to answer the question."

Morty fell back on sullenness, and bade him manage it his own way.

"Only I'll trouble you not to blame me," he added, "if the English soger finds the Colonel, and ruins us entirely!"

"I'll not," Asgill answered pithily, "if so be you'll hold your tongue."

So at supper that night Payton looked in vain for the Kerry beauty whose charms the warmer wits of the mess had more than once painted in hues rather florid than fit. Lacking her, he found that the conversation lay wholly between Asgill and himself. Nor did this surprise him, when he had surmounted his annoyance at the young lady's absence; for the contempt in which he held the natives disposed him to expect nothing from them. On the contrary, he found it natural that these savages should sit silent before a man of the world, and, like the clowns they were, find nothing to say fit for a gentleman to hear.

Under such circ.u.mstances he was not unwilling to pose before them in an indolent, insolent fas.h.i.+on, to show them what a great person he was, and to speak of things beyond their ken. Playing this part, he would have enjoyed himself tolerably--nor the less because now and again he let his contempt for the company peep from under his complaisance--but for the obtuseness, or the malice of his friend; who, as if he had only one man and one idea in his head, let fall with every moment some mention of Colonel John. Now, it was the happy certainty of the Colonel's return next day that inspired his eloquence; now, the pleasure with which the Colonel would meet Payton again; now, the lucky chance that found a pair of new foils on the window ledge among the fis.h.i.+ng-tackle, the old fowling-pieces, and the ragged copies of _Armida_ and _The Don_.

"For he's ruined entirely and no one to play with him!" Asgill continued, a twinkle, which he made no attempt to hide, in his eye. "No one, I'm meaning, Major, of his sort of force at all! Begad, boys, you'll see some fine fencing for once! Ye'll think ye've never seen any before I'm doubting!"

"I'm not sure that I can remain to-morrow," Payton said in a surly tone. For he began to suspect that Asgill was quizzing him. He noticed that every time the Justice named Colonel Sullivan, whether he referred to his return, or exalted his prowess, a sensation, a something that was almost a physical stir pa.s.sed round the table. Men looked furtively at one another, or looked straight before them, as if they were in a design. If that were so, the design could only be to pit Colonel Sullivan against him, or in some way to provoke a quarrel between them.

He felt a qualm of distrust and apprehension, for he remembered the words the Colonel had used in reference to their next meeting; and he was confirmed in the plan he had already formed--to be gone next day.

But in the meantime his temper moved him to carry the war into the enemy's country.

"I didn't know," he snarled, taking Asgill up in the middle of a eulogy of Colonel John's skill, "that he was so great a favourite of yours."

"He was not," Asgill replied drily.

"He is now, it seems!" in the same sneering tone.

"We know him better. Don't we, boys?"

They murmured a.s.sent.

"And the lady whose horse I sheltered for you," the Major continued, spitefully watching for an opening--"confound you, little you thanked me for it!--she must be still more in his interest than you. And how does that suit your book?"

Asgill had great self-control, and the Major was not, except where his malice was roused, a close observer. But the thrust was so unexpected that on the instant Payton read the other's secret in his eyes--knew that he loved, and knew that he was jealous. Jealous of Sullivan!

Jealous of the man whom he was for some reason praising. Then why not jealous of a younger, a more proper, a more fas.h.i.+onable rival? Asgill's cunningly reared plans began to sink, and even while he answered he knew it.

"She likes him," he said, "as we all do."

"Some more, some less," Payton answered with a grin.

"Just so," the Irishman returned, controlling himself. "Some more, some less. And why not, I'm asking."

"I think I must stay over to-morrow," Payton remarked, smiling at the ceiling. "There must be a good deal to be seen here."

"Ah, there is," Asgill answered in apparent good humour.

"Worth seeing, too, I'll be sworn!" the Englishman replied, smiling more broadly.

"And that's true, too!" the other rejoined.

He had himself in hand; and it was not from him that the proposal to break up the party came. The Major it was who at last pleaded fatigue.

Englishmen's heads, he said, were stronger than their stomachs; they were a match for port but not for claret. "Too much Bordeaux," he continued, with careless contempt, "gives me the vapours next day. It's a d--d sour drink, I call it! Here's a health to Methuen and sound Oporto!"

"You should correct it, Major, with a little cognac," The McMurrough suggested politely.

"Not to-night; and, by your leave, I'll have my man called and go to bed."

"It's early," James McMurrough said, playing the host.

"It is, but I'll have my man and go to bed," Payton answered, with true British obstinacy. "No offence to any gentleman."

"There's none will take it here," Asgill answered. "An Irishman's house is his guest's castle." But, knowing that Payton liked his gla.s.s, he wondered; until it occurred to him that the other wished to have his hand steady for the sword-play next day. He meant to stay, then! "Hang him! Hang him!" he repeated in his mind.