Friday’s Child

Chapter Twenty-Four

HERO, WHO HAD PASSED A SLEEPLESS NIGHT, arose next morning with a headache indeed, and with suspiciously swollen eyes. Lady Saltash took one look at her, and sent her back to bed, recommending her to glance in her mirror, and decide for herself whether she wished to show her husband, or anyone else, that woebegone face.

“Oh, ma’am, do you think he will come this morning?” Hero asked. “I am persuaded he is thinking only of Isabella! When I saw him stand up with her for the country dance — Sherry! — I felt ready to sink!”

Her ladyship laughed. “Why, what else should a man of spirit do, pray, when you was flirting so scandalously with that boy out of the nursery? Silly puss! The affair is going on famously! Sheringham scarcely took his eyes off you the whole time he was in the Rooms!”

Hero’s lips trembled. “He left while we were having tea. I thought — I wondered if perhaps he would come up to me after tea, and make me dance with him, but — but — ”

“I dare say! And carry you off willy-nilly, perhaps? At a Bath Assembly! Unheard of!”

Hero smiled faintly. “I don’t think he would care for that. It would be just the sort of thing Sherry would do, if he wanted to. Only he didn’t want to. If — if he should come here this morning, ma’am, would you perhaps be so very obliging as to see him, and — and discover, if you are able, what his sentiments truly are?”

“Make yourself easy, my love: I will see him,” promised Lady Saltash.

But her ladyship was not called upon to see him. He did not come to Camden Place that morning, for Mr Ringwood had arrived in Bath by the night mail.

The mail coach having run punctually, he was set down at the White Hart a few minutes after ten o’clock, and found Lord Wrotham breakfasting. He joined him at this meal, as soon as he had shaved, and changed his travelling dress; and listened in stolid silence to the slightly disjointed account his lordship gave him of the imbroglio, which seemed hourly to be growing more complicated. A considerable part of George’s recital was naturally concerned with the behaviour of the Incomparable, but Mr Ringwood paid little heed to this. When he had heard George out, he grunted, and said: “Pack of gudgeons!”

“Who?” demanded George.

“You, and Sherry, and Ferdy,” replied Mr Ringwood. “Dashed if I don’t think Ferdy’s the worst of you! Take a look at that!”

He handed over Mr Fakenham’s letter to him, which George perused in gathering amazement. “Bosky, I dare say,” he remarked. “Who’s this fellow he believes to be at the bottom of Sherry’s coming to Bath? That’s all a hum! I don’t know why he came, but there wasn’t any plot about it. And how the devil does Duke come into it?”

“Lord, I don’t know!” said Mr Ringwood scornfully. “You don’t suppose I wasted my time asking him for the name of a fellow I’m not interested in, do you?”

“No, but I’d give something to know why Ferdy thinks someone is behind it all,” said George, pondering the problem. “Hasn’t said a word to me about it. Couldn’t be Revesby, could it? Don’t see how Ferdy came to forget his name, if it was. I’ll ask him.”

“You may do as you please: I’m going off to see Sherry,” said Mr Ringwood. “Where is he lodging?”

“In the Royal Crescent. He’s in the devil’s own temper, I warn you, Gil!”

“There ain’t the least need to warn me,” said Mr Ringwood. “If you haven’t been able in five years to call me out, it ain’t likely Sherry will!”

He then pulled on his Hessians, which his man had lovingly treated with Spanish Blue King Polish, shrugged himself into his greatcoat, tucked a malacca cane under his arm, and set off for the Royal Crescent. He found Sherry just about to leave the house, to pay a morning call in Camden Place; but at the sight of him Sherry abandoned this immediate intention, and pounced on him with something of the growl of an infuriated tiger.

“The very man above all others I wish to see!” Sherry said menacingly. “You have the devil of a lot of explaining to do, let me tell you! Come upstairs!”

“I’m going to,” replied Mr Ringwood. “But as for explaining, seems to me you have some of that to do!”

“I like your curst impudence!” gasped Sherry. “What in hades have I to explain?”

“Well, you may begin by explaining what the deuce brought you to Bath,” said Mr Ringwood, following him up to the parlour. “If Lady Sheringham is at home — ”

“She ain’t,” interrupted Sherry. “Gone off to see some curst doctor or other. And the Incomparable set out for Wells a couple of hours ago, so you needn’t fear you’ll be obliged to do the civil to either of ’em!” He flung open the parlour door and ushered his friend into the room. “Now, then, Gil! A pretty way you have dealt with me all these weeks! What in thunder possessed you to hide my wife from me, and bam me into thinking you knew no more than I did where she was? By God, if I were not so well acquainted with you, I might have a very fair notion of what your intentions were towards her, so I might.”

“You’d have to be uncommonly disguised to fancy I should take your wife to live with my grandmother if I’d any dishonourable intentions!” retorted Mr Ringwood.

“There is that, of course,” Sherry admitted. “All the same, Gil, I don’t understand what game you are playing; and when I think of your gammoning me when you knew I was half out of my mind with anxiety over Kitten — ”

“Point is, I didn’t know it,” said Mr Ringwood. “Come to think of it, I still don’t know it.”

Sherry stared at him. “Are you mad?” he demanded. “What kind of a fellow do you take me for, in God’s name? My wife leaves me, and you don’t know whether I’m anxious?”

“Thought you would have been glad to know she was in good hands,” said Mr Ringwood painstakingly, “but didn’t know whether you cared much that she wasn’t living with you any more.”

“Not care!” Sherry exclaimed. “She’s my wife!”

Mr Ringwood polished his quizzing-glass, paying the greatest attention to the operation. “Going to be frank with you, Sherry,” he said.

“By God, I shall be glad of it!”

“Don’t fancy you will, dear boy, when it comes to it. Very delicate matter: wouldn’t mention it if I hadn’t got to. I know she’s your wife: came to the wedding. Point is, that was a devilish queer business, your marriage, Sherry. Never pretended you was in love with Kitten, did you?”

Sherry flushed, tried to speak, and failed.

“Good as told us all you wasn’t,” pursued his friend. “Not that there was any need: plain as a pikestaff! Something else plain as a pikestaff, too, but whether you saw it is what I don’t know, and never did. Tried several times to give you a hint, but it didn’t seem to me you took it up. Thought the world of you, did Kitten. Wouldn’t hear a word against you: wouldn’t even admit you can’t drive well enough for the F.H.C. That shows you! Always seemed to me she only thought of pleasing you. If she took a fancy to do something she shouldn’t, only had to tell her you wouldn’t like it, and she’d abandon it on the instant. Used to put me in mind of that rhyme, or whatever it was, I learned when I was a youngster. Something about loving and giving: that was Kitten! Mind you, I don’t say you wasn’t generous to her, encouraged her to spend what money she liked, and — ” He stopped, for Sherry had flung up a hand. “Well, no sense in going into that. Dare say you know what I mean. Dashed if I knew what to make of it all! Then you had that turn-up with her over the race she meant to engage in, and she came to me, because there was no one else she could turn to. Sat in my room, with that curst canary I once gave her, and the drawing-room clock, and cried as though her poor little heart was breaking. Don’t mind telling you, I was dashed near calling you out for that, Sherry! Seemed to me you’d been a curst brute to the poor little soul! But she never blamed you: stuck to it everything had been her fault from the outset. Said something which made me think a trifle, said you had never loved her, and it was the Incomparable you had really wished to marry.”

“No!” Sherry interjected, in a strangled voice.

“I must say, I never thought you cared a button for the Incomparable,” agreed Mr Ringwood. “Thought maybe you cared more for your Kitten than you knew.”

Sherry had gone over to the window, and was standing with his back to his friend. He said curtly over his shoulder: “I did.”

“That’s why I brought Kitten down to my grandmother, and made Ferdy and George keep it from you they knew where she was. Thought if you felt you had lost her, it might make you think a trifle.” He paused, and glanced across at the Viscount. “Wouldn’t have betrayed her in any event, you know. At one time I’d a strong notion it was all going to be for the best. Haven’t been so sure of it lately. Don’t know why you’re setting Sheringham House in order, for one thing.”

Sherry wheeled round. “You fool, for Kitten, if ever I should find her! Do you suppose I have not had time to think as well as you? I see now what I ought to have done! I thought I could continue in the same way, even though I was married: had no notion of settling down! Well, I know now that it’s not possible, and, damn it, I don’t desire it to be! I thought, if I could find Kitten, we would start afresh: try to be more the thing! If I had not thought she might return there, I would have got rid of that curst house in Half Moon Street long since! God knows I have grown to hate it! But how could I do so? Suppose she had come back, only to find the shutters closed, or even strangers living there? I had to stay, though it has been like a tomb to me!”

“I see,” said Mr Ringwood. “Shan’t deny your setting Sheringham House in order looked to me as though you had different ideas in your head. When Severn fell out of the running — Well, couldn’t help wondering a trifle, Sherry!”

“If you mention Bella’s name to me again, Gil, I am likely to do you a mischief!” Sherry warned him. “I never cared the snap of my fingers for that wretched girl, and if you are not assured of that, ask her! Why, God save the mark, she may be a beauty, but give me my Kitten! Bella, with her airs and her graces, and her miffs, and her curst sharp tongue! No, I thank you! What’s more, no man who had lived with Kitten would look twice at the Beauty!”

“Then why the devil did you come to Bath, which we all know you can’t abide, only to be near her?” demanded Mr Ringwood, exasperated.

“To be near her? My God, is that what you think? You must be crazy! Nothing would have induced me to have come here, but one circumstance! When my mother asked me to go with her, I would not listen. Yes, and I told Bella if she thought she had the power to persuade me she was mightily mistaken! But something she said — or I said: I don’t recall precisely what it was — made me remember that it was to Bath that Bagshot woman had the intention of sending Kitten, to become a governess. I made sure I should find her here, in some seminary in Queen’s Square, and that is all the reason I had for coming to a place I never mean to set foot in again if I live to be a hundred!”

Mr Ringwood sat staring at him. “So that is how it was!”

“Of course that is how it was! And I saw Kitten with George almost the very instant I entered the town, and if I could have come up with him then, I’d have murdered him in cold blood! I have been trying ever since to get two words with Kitten alone, but she will not receive me in Camden Place, nor do more than accord me the civility of a stranger when we meet in public!”

“Upon my soul, Sherry, if ever there was a born fool, you are he!” exclaimed Mr Ringwood. “How the deuce was Kitten to know you had come here to search for her? Depend upon it, she believes you came only to be near Miss Milborne, and had not the least expectation of seeing her! I do not wonder that she will not speak to you!”

“But she could not think — she could not think — !” stammered Sherry.

“She!” said Mr Ringwood witheringly. “Seems to me it’s you who can’t think, Sherry! Damme if ever I knew such a fellow! It’s a very good thing I came down here, for a rare pucker you have got yourself into! What’s more, I’m not sure it ain’t too late to get you out of it.”

“What do you mean?” Sherry said quickly, fixing his eyes on his face.

Mr Ringwood met that look squarely. “Said I’d be frank with you, dear boy, didn’t I? Well, I’ve been hearing lately from my grandmother that there’s some fellow or other paying Kitten attentions.”

“There is!” Sherry said grimly.

“The old lady didn’t seem to think there was much to it yet, but she gave me a hint you’d do well to step in before it was too late. Matter of fact, I was about to write to Kitten to tell her I thought it was time she gave me leave to tell you the truth, when you went off in your mother’s train. From what I can make out, he’s a very tolerable sort of a fellow, with a nice little property, easy address, and that kind of thing. Devilish taken with Kitten, ready to do anything in his power to please her.”

Sherry was just about to favour him with his own impressions of Mr Tarleton when the justice of this description struck that innate honesty at the bottom of his nature. “Yes, damn him!” he said bitterly. “I suppose he is a tolerable sort of a fellow. Dare say he’d be a dashed sight kinder to Kitten than ever I was.”

Mr Ringwood rose from his chair. “Best thing for me to do now is to go round to Camden Place and see Kitten,” he said. “Do what I may to unravel this curst tangle you’ve made!”

Sherry grasped his hand. “Gil, you’re the best friend a man ever had!” he declared. “You’ll tell her it was to find her I came here, won’t you? Tell her I’ve been fit to blow my brains out any time since she left me! Beg her only to see me! Tell her — ”

“Don’t put yourself about! I’ll tell her everything!” promised Mr Ringwood.

But when he arrived in Camden Place, Hero had dropped into a sleep of exhaustion, from which Lady Saltash refused point-blank to rouse her. Mr Ringwood had to deliver his messages to her instead, which, however, she assured him, would answer quite as well. When he had told her the whole, she nodded, and remarked that she would have expected Sheringham to behave in just such a stupid fashion.

“He deserves to be kept on tenterhooks, and if I had my way he should be,” she said severely. “However, it is high time this nonsensical situation was put an end to, for if I do not mistake the matter, my friend, Jasper Tarleton, has lost his heart more entirely than I was prepared for.” She considered for a moment, drumming her fingers on the table under her hand. “You may tell Sheringham, from me, that if he chooses to dine in my house tonight, he will not find me at home. I am dining with some friends in Laura Place, and it is not the sort of party to amuse his wife. He may come round at seven o’clock precisely. I shall keep the child in bed for the rest of the day, for I have not the least notion of letting her show Sheringham a wan face, I can tell you!”

“But will she consent to his coming, ma’am? Are you positive of that?” Mr Ringwood asked anxiously.

She gave a dry chuckle. “Oh, she will consent, never fear!”

“Beg pardon, ma’am, but you’ll not fail to deliver Sherry’s messages to her, will you? Can’t but see that he has given her a great deal of cause not to be wishful of seeing him!”

“Tell him so!” recommended her ladyship. “And you need not tell him that she is ready to fall upon his neck, Gilbert! Let him come in a humble frame of mind! I dare say it will be for the first, and very likely the last, time in his life!”

Mr Ringwood promised that he would say nothing to Sherry that would puff him up in his self-esteem, left his compliments for Hero, and went back to the Royal Crescent.

This time, the dowager having returned from the Cross Bath, Sherry took him into the dining-parlour on the ground floor and eagerly demanded to know how he had sped. His face fell when he heard that Mr Ringwood had not had speech with Hero herself, but his spirits rose mercurially when he learned that he would find her alone that evening, and he wrung Mr Ringwood’s hand fervently, quite forgetting that there had ever been a moment when he had not been in perfect charity with him.

As for Hero, when her hostess recounted to her the morning’s interview with Mr Ringwood, her feelings so far overcame her that she bounced up in her bed, cast her arms round Lady Saltash, and ruthlessly hugged her, to the gross disarrangement of her ladyship’s second-best wig. Called to order, she at once became very docile, even promising to remain quietly in her bed during the afternoon, if Lady Saltash would but instruct her cook to prepare for dinner all Sherry’s favourite dishes. She then lay and watched the clock until she could bear it no longer, when she rang for her maid, and had herself dressed in a gown Sherry had once commended. She flitted restlessly about the house after that, until Lady Saltash complained that she gave her the fidgets. Bath hours not being as late as those fashionable in London, her ladyship set forth for her dinner-party at six o’clock, prosaically reminding her protégée not to forget to see that Pug had his usual run.

It was Hero’s custom to lead this animal out to take the air for a few minutes before Lady Saltash’s dinner-hour; and when Lady Saltash had driven away in her barouche she thought that she would fill in the lagging time in this fashion. Accordingly, she put on her hooded cloak, took Pug’s leash in her hand, and let herself out of the front door. It was growing dark by this time, but there was still light enough to make a short walk round the Upper and Lower Place unobjectionable. It was, besides, so select a neighbourhood that there was little or no fear of her meeting any undesirable persons. She tripped along, Pug snorting at her heels, her thoughts winging ahead to the magic hour of seven o’clock. So lost in these thoughts was she that she barely noticed a vehicle drawn up in Lower Camden Place. She did indeed perceive its outline, vague in the gathering gloom, but she did not even wonder at it until there suddenly loomed up before her the figure of a man in a caped greatcoat and a tall beaver hat. She gave a gasp then of fright, but she had no time to do more before she was caught up into a strong embrace. She made a frantic attempt to free herself, and tried to cry out. Her captor prevented this by setting his lips to hers and passionately kissing her. She had a glimpse of a loo-mask covering the upper half of his face, and quite suddenly she thought that she knew who it was who had waylaid her, and she got an arm free, and flung it up round his neck, returning his embrace with the utmost fervour. The sound of leisured footsteps approaching in the distance made the masked gentleman sweep her off her feet, bear her in three swift strides to the waiting post-chaise, and toss her up into it. Since she was still unconsciously clinging to Pug’s leash, this lethargic animal was swung up willy-nilly after her, and had much ado to scramble into the chaise before the door was shut on him.

Hero tumbled without ceremony on to the padded seat, picked herself up as the chaise moved forward, and found that she was laughing and crying together. The sight of the indignant Pug, panting on the floor of the chaise, effectually dried up her tears.

“Oh!” she gurgled. “Oh, you horrid little dog, how like Sherry to have thrown you in on top of me!”

Mr Tarleton, meanwhile, riding behind the chaise, was congratulating himself on the success of his outrageous plan to abduct the lady he desired to make his wife; and Sherry, already dressed for dinner with his wife, was seated at his dressing-table, impatiently assuring Lord Wrotham that no foreigner, Greek or otherwise, had had any finger in his having come to Bath.

“Well, I can’t make it out!” George said. “No making head or tail of what Ferdy says! Seems this fellow was at Eton with him. Never knew there was any Greeks there, did you? Sounds to me like a devilish rum customer, too. Always creeping up behind a man, and giving him a start. He says Duke knows him.”

“He may do so, but I don’t!” replied the Viscount. “I wish you will stop teasing me about it, and go away! Go and do the civil in the parlour! Dare say Isabella may be there by now. You’ll find Gil, too. Came to pay his respects to my mother, poor devil, and she’s had him buttonholed this past hour, listening to what some curst doctor has told her about Russian Vapour Baths.”

“I own, it was in the hope of seeing Miss Milborne that I called,” said George ingeniously. “The thing is, though, that your mother don’t like me above half, and I’d as lief you came in with me to make all smooth.”

The Viscount, who was putting the finishing touches to his cravat, said that he was a cowardly fellow after all, but if he would wait a moment, and not prate of mysterious Greeks, he would do his best for him. But even as he spoke, a knock fell on the door, and, when he called Come in! the dowager entered, clasping, ominously, her vinaigrette. She acknowledged Lord Wrotham’s presence by a slight inclination of her turbaned head, but addressed herself to her son.

“Oh, Anthony, I am so thankful you are not yet gone out! I am in such anxiety over dearest Isabella, and fear that some mishap may have occurred! She assured me she should be home by five o’clock at the latest, and here it is, half past six already, and no sign of her! And, as though that were not bad enough, I am quite overset by having this instant received Mr and Miss Chalfont, who called here to set down Isabella’s scarf, which she was so careless as to drop in the inn at Wells. My dear Anthony, it appears that she and Sir Montagu set out to drive back to Bath by a different road quite half an hour ahead of the others in the party! What can have become of them? When the news was broken to me, I had such an attack of palpitations that Mr Ringwood — so very obliging of him! such a gentlemanly man! Oh, there you are, dear Mr Ringwood! Well, I am sure — ! As I was saying, he was obliged to summon my abigail, with some hartshorn and water to revive me! For, you know, I am responsible for dear Isabella, and how I should ever be able to face her Mama if any accident were to befall her — There is nothing for it, Anthony, but for you to set out instantly in search of her in your curricle!”

“Oh, isn’t there, by Jove!” said the Viscount. “No, I thank you, ma’am! I warned Bella not to go jauntering about the country with that fellow, and if she would not heed me she may take the consequences! I am dining with my wife in Camden Place at seven o’clock, and you may judge how likely I am to break that engagement for any start of Bella’s!”

George, whose expressive eyes had been fixed on the dowager’s face throughout her speech, stepped forward at this point, saying in a low, vibrant voice: “You may leave the matter in my hands, Lady Sheringham! This concerns me more nearly than Sherry! I shall set forth on the instant, and you need have no fear that I shall not only restore Miss Milborne to you, but I shall certainly call Revesby to answer for whatever carelessness or — or villainy he has committed!”

He bowed briefly and strode towards the door, such a look of ferocity on his face that Mr Ringwood protested. “No, really, George! Really, I say! Ten to one it is due to some trifling accident, and they will arrive here at any moment! Dash it, Monty would not — George!”

Lord Wrotham, casting him no more than a contemptuous glance, vanished from the room. Mr Ringwood turned to Sherry. “Think I’d better go after him, dear old boy!” he said. “You know what he is! Don’t like Monty, but can’t let George murder him — for that’s what it would be: sheer murder! Very obedient servant, Lady Sheringham! Wish you good fortune, Sherry, dear old boy!”

The dowager sank down upon a chair, quite overcome by the sudden twist of events. She raised her handkerchief to her eyes and was just about to bemoan her son’s approaching reconciliation with his wife when a servant came to the door to announce the arrival of the Honourable Ferdy Fakenham, who had been invited to dine in the Royal Crescent. The Viscount, glad to escape a more than ordinarily foolish jeremiad from his parent, bade the man invite Ferdy to step into his room, and turned his attention to the far more pressing problem of the choice of a fob to finish off his toilet.

Ferdy, upon his entering the room, was at once regaled by his aunt with a tearful account of the disasters which, she was convinced, had overtaken them all. He shook his head and said that Monty was a Bad Man, and there was no saying where the havoc created by that old Greek fellow would end. This attracted the Viscount’s interest, and he was just going to demand an explanation of his cousin when Bootle entered the room, looking offended, and informing him that Jason, whom he freely designated a Varmint, insisted on having instant speech with him.

“What the deuce can he want?” said his lordship. “Where is he?”

“Here I be, guvnor!” responded the Tiger, diving under Bootle’s arm. “Out of breath I be, what’s more, loping after a rattler fit to bust meself!”

“You’re boozy!” said his lordship severely.

“I ain’t! You send that fat chub off, and I’ll tell you something as you had ought to know! Yes, and don’t you go putting your listeners forward t’other side of the door!” he added.

Bootle was so much affronted by this admonition that he stalked from the room without another word, shutting the door with meticulous care behind him. The Tiger looked at his master, real trouble in his sharp eyes. “It’s the missus!” he blurted out.

The Viscount dropped the fob he had selected. “What?” he said quickly. “What has happened?”

The Tiger shook his head sadly. “Piked on the bean, guv’nor!” he said simply.

“What?”

“So help me bob, guv’nor, it’s Gawd’s truth! Loped off with that well-breeched swell I seed her with t’other day!”

The Viscount had the oddest impression that the floor was heaving under his feet. He put out a hand to grasp the edge of his dressing-table, saying hoarsely: “It’s a lie!”

“I’ll wish myself backt if ever I told you a lie, guv’nor!” Jason said earnestly. “Nor I wouldn’t tell no lies about the missus! Fit to nap my bib, I be!”

In proof of this statement he drew the sleeve of his jacket across his eyes and sniffed dolorously. The Viscount, white as his shirt, said: “How do you know this, rascal?”

“Seed her with my werry own daylights, guv’nor.” He shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “I was waiting in Camden Place, that Maria — the saucy mort what is maid to the missus — whiddling the scrap to me that the missus takes the dog what belongs to the old gentry-mort for a walk every evening. Seemed to me if I was to go and tell the missus as how we miss her mortal bad — but I never had no chance to open me bone-box! There was a rattler a-standing in the road, and this cove as you knows of, guv’nor. So I lays low, and keeps my daylights skinned. And along comes the missus with the dawg on a string. Then I seed that well-breeched swell put a mask over his phyz, and I’m bubbled if he didn’t catch hold of the missus and start a-kissing of her! And afore I could get my breath he threw her into the rattler and jumped on to a niceish piece of blood, and whole lot starts off!”

The Viscount started forward. “You damned little fool, did you do nothing to aid her ladyship? You watched her being forcibly carried off, and you — ”

“Guv’nor, it ain’t no use bamming you: she weren’t carried off, not agin her will she weren’t! For I seed her put her arm round the cove’s neck, hugging him like you never saw, and she didn’t struggle, nor let a squeak, not once!”

“I knew it!” declared the dowager.

“No, dash it, ma’am, can’t have known it!” Ferdy expostulated, much moved by the stricken look on his cousin’s face. “Sherry, dear old boy! Depend upon it, all a hum! Kitten wouldn’t go hugging fellows in masks! Might kiss George, but not a fellow in a mask! Wretched Tiger of yours has shot the cat!”

Sherry shook his head dumbly. Jason said: “I ain’t shot the cat! What’s more, I loped after that rattler — ah, right through the town, I did, and I know the road that leery cove took, and it ain’t the road what leads to his own ken, neither! Gone off with the missus on the Radstock road what leads to Wells, he has, but he won’t get far, not if I know it, he won’t!”

Sherry raised his head. “Why won’t he?”

“Acos I forked the cove while he was a-waiting for the missus,” said Jason sulkily. He added in a defensive tone: “You never telled me not to fork that cull, guv’nor, and if he’s a friend of yourn it’s the first I heard of it!”

Sherry was regarding him intently. “What did you steal from him? Come, I’m not angry with you! Answer me!”

Jason sniffed, and reluctantly produced from the breast of his jacket a bulging wallet, and a purse with a ring about its neck, both of which he handed over to his master. The wallet was found to contain, besides a handsome number of banknotes, a special marriage licence, and several visiting cards, inscribed with Mr Tarleton’s name and direction; and the purse held some guinea and half-guinea pieces.

Sherry restored the notes to the wallet with a shaking hand. “He may have some loose coins in his pockets, but you are right!” he said. “He won’t get beyond the first stage, if he’s travelling with hired horses. He doesn’t know the truth: he thinks she is free to marry him, of course. You are positive he took the Radstock road, Jason?”

“Take my dying oath he did!” responded the Tiger.

“Wedding at Wells — yes, very likely! Get my curricle round to the door as quick as you can now! Off with you!”

“Anthony!” intoned the dowager, rising from her chair as Jason sped on his errand. “Will you not listen to your Mother? Do you need further proof of that wicked girl’s — ”

“I beg you will say no more, ma’am!” he interrupted, with a look so stern that she quailed. “Mine is the blame — all of it! I have come by my deserts, and I know it, if you do not! My folly — my neglect of her, my damnable brutality have led her into this flight! Lady Saltash must have compelled her to consent to my visiting her tonight, and rather than meet me — ”

He broke off, his lip quivering. “But she must not — I cannot let her run off with this man before I’ve — before I’ve arranged to set her free! I must find them — explain the circumstances to Tarleton — bring her back to the protection of Lady Saltash!”

Ferdy, who had been lost in profound meditation, looked at him earnestly. “Sherry, dear old boy, you know what I think? All a mistake! Ten to one that fellow of yours don’t know what he’s talking about! Might have taken Kitten to a masquerade. Mask, you know.”

“Ferdy, I was to have dined with her!” Sherry said in a voice which cracked.

“Must have forgotten that. Dash it, deuced easy to forget a dinner engagement! Done it myself. Mind you, quite right to go after her! Not the thing to be driving about with a fellow in a mask: ought to have warned her! But no getting into a miff, Sherry, and frightening the poor little soul half out of her wits!”

“No, no! Though how I am to keep from choking the life out of that Tarleton fellow — But I shall do it, never fear!”

Ferdy took a noble reserve. “Tell you what, Sherry: I’ll come with you,” he said. “Dash it all! not one to leave my friends in the lurch!”