CHAPTER XV
THE SCHEME
"Look here, boy!" Very suddenly, almost fiercely, Sir Beverley addressedhis grandson that evening as they sat together over dessert. "I've hadenough of this infernal English climate. I'm going away."
Piers was peeling a walnut. He did not raise his eyes or make thefaintest sign of surprise. Steadily his fingers continued their task. Hislips hardened a little, that was all.
"Do you hear?" rapped out Sir Beverley.
Piers bent his head. "What about the hunting?" he said.
"Damn the hunting!" growled Sir Beverley.
Piers was silent a moment. Then: "I suggested it to you myself, didn'tI?" he said deliberately, "six weeks ago. And you wouldn't hear of it."
"Confound your impertinence!" began Sir Beverley. But abruptly Piersraised his eyes, and he stopped. "What do you mean?" he said, in acalmer tone.
Very steadily Piers met his look. "That's a question I should like toask, sir," he said. "Why do you want to go abroad? Aren't you well?"
"I am perfectly well," declared Sir Beverley, who furiously resented anyenquiry as to his health. "Can't a man take it into his head that he'dlike a change from this beastly damp hole of a country without being atdeath's door, I should like to know?"
"You generally have a reason for what you do, sir," observed Piers.
"Of course I have a reason," flung back Sir Beverley.
A faint smile touched the corners of Piers' mouth. "But I am not to knowwhat it is, what?" he asked.
Sir Beverley glared at him. There were times when he was possessed by anuneasy suspicion that the boy was growing up into a manhood thatthreatened to overthrow his control. He had a feeling that Piers'submission to his authority had become a matter of choice rather than ofnecessity. He had inherited his Italian grandmother's fortune,moreover,--a sore point with Sir Beverley who would have repudiated everypenny had it been left at his disposal--and was therefore independent.
"I've given you a reason. What more do you want?" he growled.
Piers looked straight at him for a few seconds longer; then broke intohis sudden boyish laugh. "All right, sir. When shall we start?" he said.
Sir Beverley stared. "What the devil are you laughing at?" he demanded.
Piers had returned to the peeling of his walnut. "Nothing, sir," hesaid airily. "At least, nothing more important than your reason forgoing abroad."
"Damn your impudence!" said Sir Beverley, and then for some reason he toobegan to smile. "That's settled then. We'll go to Monte Carlo, eh, Piers?You'll like that."
"Do you think I am to be trusted at Monte Carlo?" said Piers.
"I let you go round the world by yourself while you were still an infant,so I almost think I can trust you at Monte Carlo under my own eye,"returned Sir Beverley.
Piers was silent. The smile had left his lips. He frowned slightlyover his task.
"Well?" said Sir Beverley, suddenly and sharply.
"Well, sir?" Piers raised his brows without looking up.
The old man brought down an impatient fist on the table. "Why can't yousay what you think?" he demanded angrily. "You sit there with your mouthshut as if--as if--" His eyes went suddenly to the woman's face on thewall with the red lips that smiled half-sadly, half-mockingly, and theeyes that perpetually followed him but never smiled at all. "Confoundyou, Piers!" he said. "I sometimes think that voyage round the world didyou more harm than good."
"Why, sir?" said Piers quickly.
Sir Beverley's look left the smiling, baffling face upon the wall andsought his grandson's. "You were so mad to be off the bearing-rein,weren't you?" he said. "So keen to feel your own feet? I thought it wouldmake a man of you, but I was a fool to do it. I'd better have kept you onthe rein after all."
"I should have run away if you had," said Piers. He poured himselfout a glass of wine and raised it to his lips. He looked at Sir Beverleyabove it with a smile half-sad, half-mocking, and eyes that veiled hissoul. "I should have gone to the devil if you had, sir," he said,"and--probably--I shouldn't have come back." He drank slowly, his eyesstill upon Sir Beverley's face.
When he set the glass down again he was openly laughing. "Besides, youhorsewhipped me for something or other, do you remember? It hurts to behorsewhipped at nineteen."
Sir Beverley growled at him inarticulately.
"Yes, I know," said Piers, "But it doesn't affect me so much now. I'mpast the sensitive age." He ate his walnut, drained his glass, and rose.
"You--puppy!" said Sir Beverley, looking up at him.
Piers came to his side. He suddenly knelt down and pulled the old man'sarm round his shoulders. "I say, I'm going to enjoy that trip," he saidboyishly. "Let's get away before the New Year!"
Sir Beverley suffered the action with no further protest than a frown."You weren't so mighty anxious when I first suggested it," he grumbled.
Piers laughed. "Can't a man change his mind? I'm keen enough now."
"What do you want to go for?" Sir Beverley looked at him suspiciously.
But Piers' frank return of his look told him nothing. "I love the Southas you know," he said.
"Damn it, yes!" said Sir Beverley irritably. He could never endure anymention of the Southern blood in Piers.
"And--" Piers' brown fingers grew suddenly tight upon the bony hand hehad drawn over his shoulder--"I like going away with you."
"Oh, stow it, Piers!" growled Sir Beverley.
"The truth, sir!" protested Piers, with eyes that suddenly danced. "Itdoes me good to be with you. It keeps me young."
"Young!" ejaculated Sir Beverley. "You--infant!"
Piers broke into a laugh. He looked a mere boy when he gave himself up tomerriment. "And it'll do you good too," he said, "to get away from thatbeastly doctor who is always hanging around. I long to give him the bootwhenever I see him."
"You don't like each other, eh?" Sir Beverley's smile was sardonic.
"We loathe and detest each other," said Piers. All the boyishness wentout of his face with the words; he looked suddenly grim, and in thatmoment the likeness between them was very marked. "I presume this changeof air scheme was his suggestion," he said abruptly.
"And if it was?" said Sir Beverley.
Piers threw back his head and laughed again through clenched teeth. "Forwhich piece of consideration he has my sincere gratitude," he said. Hepressed his grandfather's hand again and rose. "So it's to be MonteCarlo, is it? Well, the sooner the better for me. I'll tell Victor tolook up the trains. We can't get away to-morrow or the next day. But weought to be able to manage the day after."
He strolled across to the fire, and stood there with his back to theroom, whistling below his breath.
Sir Beverley regarded him frowningly. There was no denying the fact, hedid not understand Piers. He had expected a strenuous opposition to hisscheme. He had been prepared to do battle with the boy. But Piers hadrefused the conflict. What was the fellow's game, he asked himself? Whythis prompt compliance with his wishes? He was not to be deceived intothe belief that he wanted to go. The attraction was too great for that.Unless indeed--he looked across at the bent black head in suddendoubt--was it possible that the boy had met with a check in the leastlikely direction of all? Could it be that the woman's plans did notinclude him after all?
No! No! That was out of the question. He knew women. A hard laugh rose tohis lips. If she had put a check upon Piers' advances it was not with theultimate purpose of stopping him. She knew what she was about too wellfor that, confound her!
He stared at Piers who had wheeled suddenly from the fire at the sound ofthe laugh. "Well?" he said irritably. "Well? What's the matter now?"
The eyes that countered his were hard, with just a hint of defiance. "Youlaughed, sir," said Piers curtly.
"Well, what of it?" threw back Sir Beverley. "You're deuced suspicious. Iwasn't laughing at you."
"I know that," said Piers. He spoke deliberately, as one choosing hiswords. His face was stern. "I don't want to know the jo
ke if it'sprivate. But I should like to know how long you want to be away."
"How long? How the devil can I tell?" growled Sir Beverley. "Till I'vehad enough of it, I suppose."
"Does it depend on that only?" said Piers.
Sir Beverley pushed back his chair with fierce impatience. "Oh, leave mealone, boy, do! I'll let you know when it's time to come home again."
Piers came towards him. He halted with the light from the lamp full onhis resolute face. "If you are going to wait on Tudor's convenience," hesaid, "you'll wait--longer than I shall."
"What the devil do you mean?" thundered Sir Beverley.
But again Piers turned aside from open conflict. He put a quiet handthrough his grandfather's arm.
"Come along, sir! We'll smoke in the hall," he said. "I think youunderstand me. If you don't--" he paused and smiled his sudden, winningsmile into the old man's wrathful eyes--"I'll explain more fully when thetime comes."
"Confound you, Piers!" was Sir Beverley's only answer.
Yet he left the room with the boy's arm linked in his. And the woman'sface on the wall smiled behind them--the smile of a witch, mysterious,derisive, aloof, yet touched with that same magic with which Piers hadlearned even in his infancy to charm away the evil spirit that lurked inhis grandfather's soul.