Read Charles Rex Page 10


  CHAPTER III

  BUNNY

  When Saltash arrived that evening he found Bunny and Jake saunteringtogether in the sunset glow along the gravelled terrace in front of thehouse. He shot towards them in his car with that characteristicsuddenness of his, swerving and coming to a stand before the porch withthe confident ease of an alighting bird. And here, seated in the porchand screened by white clematis, he found Maud.

  She rose to greet him, her eyes alight with pleasure. "Oh, Charlie," shesaid, "I have wanted to shake hands with you ever since I heard of yourescape."

  He bent and kissed the hand she gave him. "Gracious as ever!" hecommented lightly. "Had you begun to wear mourning for me, I wonder? Itwas a very cold bath, I assure you. We didn't enjoy it, any of us."

  "I am sure you didn't." Her eyes still dwelt upon the dark face with itshalf-mocking smile with a species of maternal tenderness. "And you lostyour yacht too! That was desperately unlucky."

  He made a comic grimace. "I am past the age for crying over spilt milk,Maud of the Roses." He uttered his old name for her with daringassurance. "I have had worse losses than that in my time."

  "And still you smile," she said.

  He bowed. "A smile can conceal so much." He turned to his host as he cameup behind him. "Well, Jake, I've taken you at your word, you see, andintruded into your virtuous household. How are Eileen and Molly and Bettyand--last but not least--the son and heir?"

  Maud laughed softly. "Well done, Charlie! How clever of you to rememberthem all!"

  "Oh yes, I am quite clever," said Saltash, as again his hand met Jake's."Too clever sometimes. I needn't ask if all goes well with you, Jake.Your prosperity is obvious, but don't wax fat on it. Bunny now--he's aslean as a giraffe. Can't you do something to him? He looks as if he'dmelt into thin air at a touch."

  "Oh, don't be an ass!" protested Bunny. "I'm as strong as a horse anyway.Jake, tell him not to be an ass!"

  "No good, I'm afraid," said Jake, with his sudden smile. "Come inside, mylord! The children are all flourishing, but in bed at the present moment.The baby--"

  "Oh, I must see the baby!" declared Saltash, turning back to Maud.

  She laid a hand on his arm. "I will take you to see him after dinner."

  "Will you?" He smiled into her eyes. "I shall like that. But I shallprobably want to shoot Jake when I come down again. Think it's safe?"

  She smiled back at him with confidence. "Yes, I think so. Anyhow, I'm notafraid."

  "Come and feed!" said Jake.

  They sat down in the pretty oak-panelled dining-room with its windowsopening upon the terrace and the long dim line of down. Saltash talkedfreely of Valrosa, of his subsequent voyaging, of the wreck of _The NightMoth_, but no word did he utter of the gift that had been flung to him onthat night of stars in the Mediterranean. He was always completely at hisease in Jake's household, but it was not his way to touch at any time inMaud's presence upon any matter that could not be openly discussed beforeher. Their intimacy was not without its reservations.

  Maud in her quiet happiness detected no hint of restraint in his manner.But he had always been elusive, often subtle. She did not look forcandour from Charles Rex--unless she asked for it.

  Watching him on that spring evening in the soft glow of the candles,marking the restless play of feature, the agile readiness of his wit, sheasked herself, not for the first time, what manner of soul he had behindthe mask. Somehow she did not wholly believe in that entity which sooften looked jibing forth. Though she could ascribe no reason for it, shehad a strong suspicion that the real self that was Saltash was of adifferent fibre altogether--a thing that had often suffered violence itmight be, but nevertheless possessed of that gift of the resurrectionwhich no violence can destroy.

  "Why are you dissecting me tonight?" he asked her once and laughed andchanged the subject before she could reply.

  When dinner was over and she rose, he sprang to open the door for herwith that royal _bonhomie_ of his which somehow gave him the right toenter where others waited for permission.

  "Take Bunny with you!" he murmured. "I want to talk to Jake."

  She lifted her eyes with a flash of surprise. He bent towards her.

  "And afterwards to you, Queen Rose. I shall not forget to claim myprivileges in that respect."

  She laughed a little, but she obeyed his behest as a matter of course."Come for a turn in the garden with me, Bunny!" she said. "I've hardlyseen you today."

  The boy got up, passing Jake with a careless slap on the shoulder thattestified to the excellent good fellowship that existed between them.

  Saltash turned back into the room, and threw himself down by his host."That's right," he said as the door closed upon the brother and sister."Now we can talk."

  Jake pushed a box of cigars to him. His keen eyes took Saltash in withthe attention of the man accustomed to probe beneath the surface. Therewere not many who could hide from Jake Bolton anything he desired toknow.

  Saltash flicked an eyelid under his direct scrutiny as he chose hiscigar. He was never more baffling than in his moments of candour.

  "There are several things I've come to consult you about, Jake," he saideasily, as Jake leaned across with a match.

  "I'm listening," said Jake.

  Saltash sent him a quizzical glance as his cigar kindled. "Prepared toturn me down at all points?" he suggested.

  Jake's mouth relaxed a little. "Prepared to listen anyway," he said."It's to do with young Bunny, I take it."

  Saltash leaned back in his chair with a laugh. "Very smart of you! Bunnycertainly is my first proposition. What are you going to do with him?"

  Jake also leaned back, and smoked for several seconds in silence. Saltashwatched him with semi-comic curiosity.

  "Something of a problem, eh?" he said, after a pause.

  Jake's eyes came to him and remained upon him with steady insistence."He's not going to turn into a fancy-dress loafer, my lord," he said atlength in his soft, deliberate voice. "I'll see to that anyway."

  "Don't be nasty, Jake!" protested Saltash with a smile. "I'm notproposing to adopt him. But I can give him employment, if that's whathe's wanting. What do you want to make of him?"

  Jake's steady look remained upon him. "Just an honest man, I reckon," hesaid.

  "Ah! Quite so!" Open mockery gleamed back at him from Saltash'shalf-closed eyes. "All contaminating influences to be kept away. Is thatit?"

  Jake was silent.

  Saltash sent a cloud of smoke upwards before he spoke again. Then: "Iagree with you, Jake," he said. "We mustn't spoil the boy. He shan'tlearn any naughty ways from me. Come! That's a promise. And I'm not sucha blackguard as I used to be."

  "Sure?" said Jake.

  Again Saltash's smile flashed across at him. "Quite sure, my worthyphilosopher," he made light reply. "I don't set up for a model of virtueof course, but at least--now-a-days--I never take what I can't pay for."

  "That so?" said Jake. He considered the matter for a few moments, thenslowly took the cigar from between his lips and spoke. "It's certainlytrue; Bunny is a problem. He's not strong; and though he's got grit, hehasn't got what I call punching power. He's been ordered an out-doorlife, and he wants to join me in running the stud. I could do with him ofcourse, but I've a strong feeling against it, anyway till he's older.It's not the right atmosphere for him, and it doesn't bring him incontact with the right people. He ought to be in the Army, but he wasn'tstrong enough. It's a big grievance with him for there's nothingradically wrong; just weak tendencies that he may outgrow if he leads ahealthy life and doesn't strain himself. We're just marking time atpresent, so if you have anything to suggest--well, I've no doubt he'll besomething more than grateful."

  "And you?" questioned Saltash, with a grimace at the ceiling.

  "I too," said Jake, "if it's for the boy's good."

  "You needn't hold a pistol at my head," protested Saltash. "I shan't puthim in the way of any short cuts to the devil. All I have to offer him isthe post of ba
iliff at Burchester Castle, as old Bishop has got beyondhis job. I can't turn the old beggar out, but I want a young man to takethe burden off his shoulders. Do you think that sort of thing would bebeneath Bunny's dignity, or likely to upset his morals?"

  "He'd probably jump at the chance," said Jake.

  "Which is more than his worthy brother-in-law does on his behalf,"grinned Saltash.

  "No," Jake's steady eyes met the gibe unfaltering. "I know it's a chancethat doesn't come every day, and I know you mean well by him. I shan'tput any hindrance in the way."

  "Then it's done," said Saltash. "Bunny's fate is sealed."

  "I hope not." Jake still gravely watched him, but not as if he sought foranything in the baffling, mobile countenance. "What do you want him foranyway?"

  Saltash flicked the ash from his cigar. "Perhaps I'm turningphilanthropist, Jake. Do you know the symptoms? I've been anxious aboutmyself several times lately."

  "Come on rather suddenly, hasn't it?" suggested Jake.

  Saltash nodded. "It's old age, I fancy. Anyhow I've a notion for doingBunny a good turn. The boy can have play as well as work. He can join thepolo-club at Fairharbour. I'll introduce him."

  "And where will he live?" asked Jake.

  "With the old Bishops of course. He'll be safe enough with them andwithin reach of you and Maud at the same time. It's time you eased theleading string a bit, you know. He'll start kicking if you don't."

  "I don't think so," said Jake. "He goes his own way already quite as muchas is good for him. I don't need to hold him in very tight either. He'snot the bolting sort."

  "You mean you've trained him well," laughed Saltash. "I congratulate you.You've a genius for that sort of thing, Jake. The boy will probablyanswer to your lightest touch and never even know he does it."

  "What was the other thing you wanted to say to me?" said Jake.

  "Oh that!" Saltash's eyes fell suddenly to his empty wine glass. Hefingered the stem of it for a few seconds with a curiously irresoluteair. "Do you know I think I'll put it to Maud first!" he said at length,with a smile that was faintly shamefaced.

  "It'll come to the same thing," said Jake.

  Saltash's eyes flashed upwards. He met Jake's look almost with defiance."Doubtless you are master in your own house, Jake," he said. "Far be itfrom me to question it."

  "I didn't mean that," said Jake. "What I meant was," the red-brown eyesbegan to smile, "that Maud and I are friends--and we generally want thesame thing."

  Saltash nodded. "Not so bad after eight years," he said.

  "No. It's pretty great," said Jake. "You'd think we were an ill-matchedpair, wouldn't you? But we've learnt to plough as straight a furrow asanyone."

  "No, I don't think you ill-matched," said Saltash unexpectedly. "You'vealways been about the same height and breadth, my friend. I saw that along time ago. The luckiest day that ever dawned for Maud was the one onwhich you cut me out."

  "Think so?" said Jake. "Well, it wasn't a very lucky one for you, I'mafraid."

  "I got over it," said Saltash lightly. "I'm too great a rotter, you know,Jake, to take things much to heart. I've loved heaps of women since--evensome good ones. But they never take me seriously; so I presume I shallcontinue to rot."

  "Thought you'd turned sober," suggested Jake.

  Again Saltash's look dwelt upon the ruby drain in his wine-glass. For amoment the restlessness of his face deepened to something very nearlyapproaching melancholy.

  "I'm tired, Jake," he said abruptly. "I've run through the whole gamut ofamusements, and I'm bored to the soul. I want to do a good turn tosomebody--just for a change--to see what it feels like. Perhaps--whoknows--it may take the taste of rottenness out of my mouth. You fellowswho lead a decent, orderly life don't know what it is when the wine turnsto vinegar and all the sweets of life to gall."

  "Sounds pretty damnable," said Jake.

  Saltash grimaced like a weary monkey. "It's dust and ashes, my good Jake.But we won't discuss it. Let's come to business! You know Larpent--mycaptain--quite one of the best?"

  Jake nodded. "I've met him--yes."

  Saltash flung himself back in his chair smoking rapidly. "He was damagedwhen the yacht went down. He's in a nursing home in town, getting better.He's got a daughter--a girl called Antoinette. She's been at school inFrance, and Larpent was bringing her home in the yacht when we went down.She's nineteen--a jolly little thing--half French. Larpent doesn't knowwhat to do with her. He has no people. She--quite properly--wants toearn her own living. But she's too young yet to fight the world.Larpent's a rover, he'll never settle on land. She's never had any homelife, poor kid. And she wants it. You'll say it's like my damned cheek tocome to you, but on my life you and Maud are the only people I can thinkof. There's my old friend Lady Jo--Mrs. Green as she prefers to becalled--but she isn't very strong just now. I can't bother her. Besidesshe hasn't got a home like yours. She's up in town."

  The jerky utterance came to an end. Saltash turned his head towards Jake,watching him half furtively through the smoke.

  There followed a silence of some duration. Jake's brows were slightlydrawn. He spoke at last, slowly and softly as his manner was. "Are yousuggesting that--Captain Larpent's daughter--should come to us?"

  "She'd be useful enough," said Saltash in his quick, vehement way. "She'dhelp Maud with the children. There's nothing she wouldn't do. It would bea kindness on your part, and you wouldn't regret it. She's a takinglittle thing. I'd like you to have her for a month, and if you don't wantto keep her after that--well--shunt her back on to Larpent. He'll be wellby that time. If he isn't--I'll look after her till he is."

  "Who's looking after her now?" said Jake. "Where is she?"

  Saltash pushed back his chair with a movement of impatience. "Did youthink I'd bring her to Burchester for all the county to blab about? She'sunder my protection--and she's safe." He spoke with a certain fierceness,and in a moment was pacing the room, his face arrogantly lifted. "I knowvery well the sort of story that's going round, but if you're a white manyou'll help me to give it the lie. I know I'm a blackguard, Jake,--neverpretended to be anything else. But I hope I'm a gentleman as well--atleast where women are concerned. That child is none the worse in mind orbody for being thrown on my hands. You've got to believe that."

  "All right," said Jake.

  Saltash paced jerkily on, his hands behind him. "I want you to have herbecause you're straight, and she'll come to no harm with you. You nevereven parley with the devil, do you, Jake? Remember that time--it's tenyears ago, more--when a man tried to tempt you to tamper with one of yourhorses and you horsewhipped him for his baseness."

  "I prefer not to remember it, my lord," said Jake.

  Saltash stopped suddenly by his chair and gripped his shoulder with awiry hand. "I've liked you ever since," he said. "Look here, Jake! I'mnot tempting you to do anything wrong now. I'm asking you to do somethingthat doesn't appeal to you; but if you do it, it'll be one of the mostdecent actions of your life. That child is quite alone just now--exceptfor me. Will you take her--like a good chap--till something else safeturns up?"

  Jake sat slowly forward. "I'll have to talk it over with Maud," he said.

  Saltash's grip shifted impatiently. "You know very well what Maud willsay. Don't be an ass about it! Say No--if you mean to say No--at once!"

  There came the quiet tread of approaching feet on the gravelled terraceand the sound of low voices talking together. Jake lifted his head. Hisface was grim. He looked Saltash straight in the eyes.

  "You've told me the plain truth about her. You swear it?"

  Saltash's swarthy countenance was in shadow, but those strange eyes ofhis gleamed oddly, with the sort of fitful shining that comes from a coatof mail in an uncertain light. They did not flinch from Jake's straightregard, neither did they wholly meet it.

  "Is my oath really more valuable than my word, Jake?" he said, with a wrytwist of the lips. "Most people don't find it so."

  Jake stood up, a figure square and forcefu
l. For a moment he facedSaltash with a level scrutiny that--possibly--pierced the coat of mail.Then abruptly he smiled. "I will take your word, my lord," he said.

  "And the child?" said Saltash.

  Jake nodded. "The child too--if Maud agrees."

  "Thanks," said Saltash, and smiled back at Jake--the smile that gave hisugly face so great a charm. "I am obliged to you, Jake. I think Maud willagree."

  "Shall we go to her?" said Jake.