CHAPTER XXIX. A DINNER-PARTY SUB ROSA.
In less than a week's time I was master of the state of affairs at BordenTower. Dr. Randall, with the best possible intentions, was the worstpossible man that could have been chosen for the guardianship of two suchpupils as Lord Silchester and Leonard de Cartienne. He was a scholar anda pedant, utterly unsuspicious and ignorant of the ways of the world,himself so truthful and honourable that he could scarcely have imagineddeceit possible in others, and certainly not in his own wards. Of theservants, James and his wife were the only ones in authority, and theywere the tools of de Cartienne.
The latter I could not quite understand. The only thing about himperfectly clear was that he was just the worst companion possible forSilchester. For the rest, he was so clever that his presence here at allas a pupil seemed unnecessary. He appeared to be rich and he took a deepinterest of some sort in Cecil. Seemingly it was a friendly interest, butof that I did not feel assured. At any rate, it was an injuriousassociation for Cecil, and I determined to do everything in my power tocounteract it.
To strike at once, to attempt to show him the folly of the courses intowhich he was being led, I saw would be futile. I must have time andopportunity. Any violent measures in such a case would be worse thanuseless. My only course, obnoxious though it was, was to join them intheir pursuits and try to gain some sort of influence over Cecil, while Ikept him as far as possible from falling into further mischief.
Accordingly, on the first evening after my arrival at Borden Tower, I wasinitiated into the mysteries of poker and Prussian bank, and onsubsequent occasions I either joined them or looked on. The result in themain was pretty much as I had expected. De Cartienne won always when thestakes were very large, and Lord Silchester when they were scarcely worthhaving.
The earlier part of the day was by far the pleasanter to me. In themorning we worked with Dr. Randall; in the afternoon we always walked orrode--in either case, a visit to the "Rose and Crown" was an invariablepart of the programme--and in the evening, after dinner, we were supposedto read until ten o'clock, although the manner in which we really spentthat portion of the day was far less profitable.
I had intended paying a special visit to Miss Milly Hart on my ownaccount; but either by accident or design--at the time I was not surewhich--de Cartienne always seemed to frustrate my plans. Even to myself Iwould not acknowledge that I had any other motive save pure curiosity;but I was still determined by some means or other to see a photograph ofthe missing Mr. Hart. The strange disappearance of the one in thesitting-room at the inn--it had never been found--puzzled me, andwhenever I caught myself thinking of the incident, it was always inconnection with Leonard de Cartienne. It seemed very absurd, when Iconsidered the matter calmly, but nevertheless I could not escape fromit. It haunted me, as ideas sometimes will.
One afternoon, about two months after my arrival at Borden Towers, Ceciland I were reading together in the study--or, rather, I was endeavouringto encourage one of his rare fits of industry by helping him through astiff page of Livy--when the door opened suddenly and de Cartienneentered with an open telegram in his hand. Seeing me, he stopped shortand frowned.
"Hallo, Len! What's up?" Cecil exclaimed. "What have you got there? Atelegram?"
De Cartienne nodded and, after a moment's hesitation, handed it over.
"It's from Fothergill," he explained. "He is coming over to-night, andwants us to dine with him."
"Should like to awfully," Cecil said, "but I don't see how we can. OldGrumps wouldn't let us go, of course, and I don't see how we can manageit without his knowing."
"Don't you? Well, I do," de Cartienne remarked drily. "Grumps is goingover to Belscombe this evening to take the chair at the literary societythere. He'll have to dine at six and leave at a quarter to seven. I knowthat, because I heard him give his orders. That will leave us plenty oftime to get down into the town by eight o'clock; and we shall be allright for coming back, of course."
"That's capital!" declared Cecil, shutting up his Livy with a bang. "Wewill have our revenge on old Fothergill to-night. Just what I've beenlooking forward to."
De Cartienne shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, I don't know," he said slowly. "I fancy. Fothergill is a bit toogood for us. I shan't be very keen on cards to-night, I can tell you. Ilost more money than I cared about last time he was here."
Cecil laughed carelessly.
"You didn't lose as much as I did," he remarked. "But, then, Fothergillhad all the luck. I never remember such a run of trumps as he held inthat last deal; and you played villainously, you know--gave him no end oftricks."
The very faintest suspicion of a smile--an evil smile it was--trembled onde Cartienne's lips, and he turned away towards the window as though tohide it.
"I wasn't in very good form that night," he acknowledged. "I must make upfor it to-night, if we can get Fothergill to give us our revenge."
Cecil drummed upon the table with his fingers and raised his eyebrowsslightly.
"He can't very well refuse if we ask for it, can he?"
"I suppose not," de Cartienne answered, lounging across the room towardsthe door. "I'll go and see James and let him know that we shall want thelatchkey."
"All right. And I say, Len," Cecil continued, "we must take Morton withus, of course."
De Cartienne turned round with an angry frown upon his dark face.
"I scarcely see how that would be possible," he said stiffly. "I think itwould be taking rather a liberty with Fothergill. He only asks us two."
In other circumstances I should promptly have refused to be one of theparty, especially as the invitation appeared to come from a friend of deCartienne's. But the darkening shade which I had seen flash across deCartienne's face reawakened all my suspicions with regard to him and Iinstantly determined that, by some means or other, I would go. Hisevident reluctance to invite me only strengthened my intention, so,although he looked at me as if expecting to hear me express myindifference as to whether I went or not, I purposely refrained fromdoing anything of the sort.
"Oh, that's all rot!" Cecil protested. "We can't go off and leave Mortonboxed up here by himself."
"I don't suppose Morton would care much about it," said de Cartiennesullenly.
"On the contrary, I should enjoy it very much indeed," I interposed;"although, of course, I don't wish to go if you think that your friendwould object," I added blandly. "It's rather dull here by oneself."
"Of course it is! Morton, old chap, you shall go with us, never fear!"Cecil declared vigorously. "Tell you what, Len, if you won't do theagreeable and make things right with Fothergill--as you can, if you like,of course--I shan't go, so there! Which is it to be--both or neither?"
"Both, of course," de Cartienne answered, with as good grace as possible."I shouldn't have thought Morton would have cared about it, that's all.Be ready punctually at half-past seven, you men."
"All right!" exclaimed Cecil, delighted at getting his own way for achange. "Good old Len! Morton, pitch that beastly Livy into the drawerand come and change your things. We'll have some fun to-night!"