CHAPTER VII
THE PART PLAYED BY A FIVE-POUND NOTE
And it was into this atmosphere of gloom and of purposelessmisanthropy that Louisa Harris brought this morning the cheeringsunshine of her own indomitable optimism.
She knew of course from the first that the subject which interestedevery one in the house more than any other subject could ever do wasnot to be mentioned in Lord Radclyffe's presence. But she was quiteshrewd enough to see that dear old Luke--unsophisticated and none tooacute an observer--had overestimated his uncle's indifference to theall-absorbing matter.
The old man's face--usually a mirror of contemptuous cynicism--looked,to the woman's keener insight, distinctly troubled, and his surlysilence was even more profound than hitherto.
He hardly did more than bid Louisa a curt, "How de do?" when sheentered, and then relapsed into moroseness wholly unbroken beforeluncheon was announced.
Jim--"in the Blues"--was there when she arrived, and Edie came in afew moments later, breathless and with hat awry and tawny hair flyingin all directions, straight from a tussle with the dogs and the sharpwind in the park.
Evidently no secret had been made before these two of the strangeevents which had culminated this very morning in their brother'savowal to Louisa, and the postponement _sine die_ of the wedding. Butequally evidently these young creatures absorbed in their own life,their own pursuits and amusements, were not inclined to look on thematter seriously.
Their sky had been so absolutely cloudless throughout their lives thatit was impossible for them at the moment to realize that the darkshadow on the distant horizon might possibly conceal thunder in itsfilmy bosom.
Edie--just over twenty years of age and already satiated with theexcitement of three London seasons, her mind saturated with novelreading and on the lookout for some new sensations--was inclined tolook on the affair as an exhilarating interlude between the ShroveTuesday dance at Wessex House and the first Drawing-Room in May.Jim--"in the Blues"--very eligible as a possible husband for thedaughters of ambitious mammas, a trifle spoiled, a little slow of wit,and not a little self-satisfied--dismissed the whole incident as"tommy-rot."
When Louisa first greeted them, Edie had whispered excitedly:
"Has he told you?"
And without waiting for a direct reply had continued, with unabatedeagerness:
"Awful exciting, don't you think?"
But Jim with the elegant drawl peculiar to his kind had suppressedfurther confidences by an authoritative:
"Awful rot I call it, don't you? Luke is soft to worry about it."
Strangely enough, at luncheon it was Lord Radclyffe who brought upthe subject matter. Edie with the tactlessness of youth had asked apoint-blank question:
"Well," she said, "when is that wedding to be? and what are webridesmaids going to wear? I warn you I won't have white--I hate awhite wedding."
Then as no answer came she said impatiently:
"I wish you'd name the day, you two stupids. Awfully soft I call ithanging about like this."
Luke would have said something then, but Louisa interposed.
"It is all my fault, Edie," she said. "You know I want to take thetwins out myself this season. I must give them a real good time beforeI marry."
"Bosh!" remarked Edith unceremoniously. "Mabel and Chris will have afar better time when you are married and can present them yourself.Tell them from me that its no fun being 'out' and the longer they putit off the better they'll enjoy themselves later on. Besides, ColonelHarris will take them about."
"Father hates sitting up late--" hazarded Louisa, somewhat lamely.
"The truth of the matter is," here broke in Lord Radclyffe dryly,"that Luke had persuaded you to put off the wedding because of thisd----d impostor who seems to have set you all off by the ears."
Edie laughed and said, "Bosh!" Jim growled and murmured, "Rot!"
Luke and Louisa were silent, the while Lord Radclyffe's closely-set,dark, piercing eyes, wandered from one young face to the other.Louisa, feeling uncomfortable beneath that none too amiable scrutiny,did not know what to say, but Luke quietly remarked after awhile:
"You're right, uncle. It is my doing, but Lou agrees with me, and weare going to wait until this cloud is properly cleared up."
If any one else had spoken so clearly and decisively in directcontradiction to the old man's obvious wishes in the matter, theresult would have been an outburst of ill-humour and probably a volleyof invectives, not unmixed with more forcible language. But since itwas Luke who had spoken--and Luke could do no wrong--Lord Radclyfferesponded quite gently:
"My dear boy," he said, and it was really touching to hear the hardvoice soften and linger on the endearing words, "I have told you onceand for all that the story of this so-called Philip de Mountford is afabrication from beginning to end. There is absolutely no reason foryou to fret one single instant because of the lies a blackmailerchooses to trump up. As for your putting off your wedding one singlehour because of this folly, why, it is positive nonsense. I shouldhave thought you had more common-sense--and Miss Harris, too, for amatter of that."
Luke was silent for a moment or two while Edie tossed herirresponsible young head with the gesture of an absolute "I told youso." Jim muttered something behind his heavy cavalry moustache.Louisa, with head bent and fingers somewhat restless and fidgety,waited to hear what Luke would say.
"If only," he said, "you would consent, Uncle Rad to let Mr. Dobson gothrough this man's papers."
"What were the good of wasting Mr. Dobson's time?" retorted LordRadclyffe with surprising good humour. "I know that the man is animpostor. I don't think it," he reiterated emphatically, "I know it."
"How?"
Before the old man had time to reply, the butler--sober, solemnParker--came in with a card on a salver, which he presented to hismaster. Lord Radclyffe took up the card and grunted as he glanced atit. He always grunted when he was threatened with visitors.
"Why," he said gruffly, and he threw the card back onto the salver,"haven't you told Mr. Warren?"
"Mr. Warren," said solemn Parker, "is out, my lord."
"Then ask Mr. Dobson to call another time."
"It's not Mr. Dobson hisself, my lord. But a young gentleman from hisoffice."
"Then tell the young gentleman from the office that I haven't time tobother about him."
"Shall I see him, sir?" asked Luke, ready to go.
"Certainly not," retorted the irascible old man. "Stay where you are.You have got Miss Harris to entertain."
"The young gentleman," resumed Parker with respectful insistence,"said he wouldn't keep your lordship five minutes. He said he'dbrought some papers for your lordship's signature."
"The Tower Farm lease, Uncle Rad," remarked Luke.
"I think, Mr. Luke," assented the butler, "that the young gentlemandid mention the word lease."
"Why has that confounded Warren taken himself off just when I wanthim?" was Lord Radclyffe's gruff comment as he rose from the table.
"Let me go, sir," insisted Luke.
"No, hang it, boy, you can't sign my name--not yet anyway. I am notyet a helpless imbecile. Show the young man into the library, Parker.I can't think why Dobson is always in such a confounded hurry aboutleases--sending a fool of a clerk up at most inconvenient hours."
Still muttering half audibly, he walked to the library door, whichParker held open for him, and even this he did not do withoutsurreptitiously taking hold of Luke's hand and giving it a friendlysqueeze. For a moment it seemed as if Luke would follow him, despitecontrary orders. He paused, undecided, standing in the middle of theroom, Louisa's kind gray eyes following his slightest movement.
Jim stolidly pulled the cigar box toward him, and Edie, with chinresting in both hands, looked sulky and generally out of sorts.
Parker--silent and correct of mien--had closed the library door behindhis master, and now with noiseless tread he crossed the dining-roomand opened the other door--the one that gave on the hall. Lo
uisainstinctively turned her eyes from Luke and saw--standing in themiddle of the hall--a young man in jacket suit and overcoat, who hadlooked up, with palpitating eagerness expressed in his face, themoment he caught sight of Parker.
It was the same man who had lifted his hat to Luke and to herself inBattersea Park this very morning. Luke saw him too and apparently alsorecognized him.
"That's why he bowed to us, Luke--in the park--you remember?" she saidas soon as the door had once more closed on Parker and the visitor.
"Funny that you didn't know him," she continued since Luke had made nocomment.
"I didn't," he remarked curtly.
"Didn't what?"
"I did not and do not know this man."
"Not Mr. Dobson's clerk?"
Luke did not answer but went out into the hall. Parker was standingbeside the library door which he had just closed, having introducedthe visitor into his lordship's presence.
"Parker," said Luke abruptly, "what made you tell his lordship thatthat young gentleman came from Mr. Dobson?"
The question had come so suddenly that Parker--pompous, dignifiedParker--was thrown off his balance, and the reply which took some timein coming, sounded unconvincing.
"The young gentleman," he said slowly, "told me, Mr. Luke, that hecame from Mr. Dobson."
"No, Parker," asserted Luke unhesitatingly, "he did nothing of thesort. He wanted to see his lordship and got you to help him concoctsome lie whereby he could get what he wanted."
A grayish hue spread over Parker's pink and flabby countenance.
"Lord help me, Mr. Luke," he murmured tonelessly, "how did you know?"
"I didn't," replied Luke curtly. "I guessed. Now I know."
"I didn't think I was doing no harm."
"No harm by introducing into his lordship's presence strangers whomight be malefactors?"
Already Luke, at Parker's first admission, had gone quickly to thelibrary door. Here he paused, with his hand on the latch, uncertain ifhe should enter. The house was an old one, well-built and stout; fromwithin came the even sound of a voice speaking quite quietly, but noisolated word could be distinguished. Parker was floundering in aquagmire of confused explanations.
"Malefactor, Mr. Luke!" he argued, "that young man was no malefactor.He spoke ever so nicely. And he had plenty of money about him. Ididn't see I was doing no harm. He wanted to see his lordship andasked me to help him to it----"
"And," queried Luke impatiently, "paid you to help him, eh?"
"I thought," replied the man loftily ignoring the suggestion, "thattaking in one of Mr. Dobson's cards that was lying in the tray coulddo no harm. I thought it couldn't do no harm. The young gentleman saidhis lordship would be very grateful to me when he found out what I'ddone."
"And how grateful was the young gentleman to you, Parker?"
"To the tune of a five-pound note, Mr. Luke."
"Then as you have plenty of money in hand, you can pack up your thingsand get out of this house before I've time to tell his lordship."
"Mr. Luke----"
"Don't argue. Do as I tell you."
"I must take my notice from his lordship," said Parker, vainly tryingto recover his dignity.
"Very well. You can wait until his lordship has been told."
"Mr. Luke----"
"Best not wait to see his lordship, Parker. Take my word for it."
"Very well, Mr. Luke."
There was a tone of finality in Luke's voice which apparently Parkerdid not dare to combat. The man looked confused and troubled. What hadseemed to him merely a venial sin--the taking of a bribe for a trivialservice--now suddenly assumed giant proportions--a crime almost,punished by a stern dismissal from Mr. Luke.
He went without venturing on further protest, and Luke, left standingalone in the hall, once more put his hand on the knob of the librarydoor. This time he tried to turn it. But the door had been locked fromthe inside.