Produced by Al Haines
Cover art]
[Frontispiece: Luncheon at 94 Grosvenor Square was an exceedinglysimple meal. FRONTISPIECE. _See page 92_.]
THE WICKED MARQUIS
BY
E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
WILL GREFE
MCCLELLAND & STEWART PUBLISHERS
TORONTO
_Copyright, 1919,_
BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
_All rights reserved_
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Luncheon at Grosvenor Square was an exceedingly simple meal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _Frontispiece_
"Richard Vont was head-keeper at Mandeleys when I succeeded to the title and estates"
"I expect we are all as bad, though," she went on rather gloomily, "even if we are not quite so blatant"
"You're very hard, father," she said simply
THE WICKED MARQUIS
CHAPTER I
Reginald Philip Graham Thursford, Baron Travers, Marquis of Mandeleys,issued, one May morning, from the gloomy precincts of the Law Courtswithout haste, yet with certain evidences of a definite desire to leavethe place behind him. He crossed first the pavement and then thestreet, piloted here and there by his somewhat obsequious companion,and turned along the Strand, westwards. Then, in that democraticthoroughfare, for the first time since the calamity had happened, hislips were unlocked in somewhat singular fashion.
"Well, I'm damned!" he exclaimed, with slow and significant emphasis.
His companion glanced up furtively in his direction. The Marquis, asMarquises should be, was very tall and slim, with high well-shapednose, very little flesh upon his face, a mouth of uncertain shape andeyes of uncertain colour. His companion, as solicitors to thearistocracy should be, was of a smaller, more rotund and insignificantshape. He had the healthy complexion, however, of the week-end golfer,and he affected a certain unlegal rakishness of attire, much in vogueamongst members of his profession having connections in high circles.In his heart he very much admired the ease and naturalness with whichhis patron, in the heart of professional London, strode along by hisside in a well-worn tweed suit, a collar of somewhat ancient design,and a tie which had seen better days.
"The judge's decision was, without doubt, calamitous," he confessedgloomily.
The Marquis turned in at the Savoy courtyard with the air of an habitue.
"I am in need of a brief rest and some refreshment," he said. "Youwill accompany me, if you please, Mr. Wadham."
The lawyer acquiesced and felt somehow that he had become the tail endof a procession, the Marquis's entrance and progress through thegrillroom towards the smoking-room bar was marked by much deference onthe part of porters, cloak-room attendants and waiters, a deferenceacknowledged in the barest possible fashion, yet in a manner which hissatellite decided to make a study of. They reached a retired corner ofthe smoking room, where the Marquis subsided into the only vacant easychair, ordered for himself a glass of dry sherry, and left hiscompanion to select his own refreshment and pay for both.
"What," the former enquired, "is the next step?"
"There is, alas!" Mr. Wadham replied, "no next step."
"Exactly what do you mean by that?" the Marquis demanded, knitting hisbrows slightly as he sipped his sherry.
"We have reached the end," the lawyer pronounced. "The decision givenby the Court to-day is final."
The Marquis set down his glass. The thing was absurd!
"Surely," he suggested, "the House of Lords remains?"
"Without a doubt, your lordship," Mr. Wadham assented, "but it is of nouse to us in the present instance. The judge of the SupremeCourt--this is, by-the-by, our third appeal--has delivered a finaldecision."
The Marquis seemed vaguely puzzled.
"The House of Lords," he persisted, "remains surely a Court of Appealfor members of my order whose claims to consideration are not alwaysfully recognised in the democracy of the common law court."
"I fear," Mr. Wadham replied, with a little cough, "that the House ofLords is supposed to have other functions."
"Other functions?"
"In an indirect sort of fashion," Mr. Wadham continued, "it is supposedto assist in the government of the country."
"God bless my soul!" the Marquis exclaimed.
There was a queer, intangible silence. The lawyer was quite aware thata storm was brewing, but as his distinguished client never lost histemper or showed annoyance in any of the ordinary plebeian ways, he wasconscious of some curiosity as to what might happen next.
"You mean to say, then," the Marquis continued, "that for the rest ofmy days, and in the days of those who may succeed me, that edifice,that cottage which for generations has sheltered one of the familyretainers, is to remain the property of--of an alien?"
"I fear that that is the decision of the court," the lawyer admitted."The deed of gift was exceptionally binding."
The Marquis shook his head. The thing was incomprehensible.
"I can stand upon the roof of Mandeleys," he said, "and I can looknorth, south, east and west, and in no direction can I look off my ownland. Yet you mean to tell me that almost in my garden there is toremain a demesne which can be occupied by any Tom, Dick or Harry whichits nominal owner chooses to place in possession?"
The lawyer signed to the waiter for their glasses to be replenished.
"It is certainly not justice, your lordship," he admitted,--"it is noteven reasonable--but it is the law."
The Marquis produced a gold cigarette case, absently lit a cigarette,and returned the case to his pocket without offering it to hiscompanion. He smoked meditatively and sipped his second glass ofsherry.
"A state of things," he declared, "has been revealed to me which Icannot at present grasp. I must discuss the matter with Robert--withmy son-in-law, Sir Robert Lees. He is an intensely modern person, andhe may be able to suggest something."
"Sir Robert is a very clever man," the lawyer acknowledged, "butfailing an arrangement with the tenant himself, I cannot see that thereis anything further to be done. We have, in short, exhausted the law."
"A process," the Marquis observed sympathetically, "which I fear thatyou must have found expensive, Mr. Wadham."
"The various suits into which we have entered on behalf of yourlordship, and the costs which we have had to pay," the latter hastenedto announce, "amount, I regret to say, to something over eighteenthousand pounds."
"Dear me!" his companion sighed. "It seems quite a great deal ofmoney."
"Since we are upon the subject," the lawyer proceeded, "my firm hassuggested that I should approach your lordship with regard to somemeans of--pardon me--reducing the liability in question."
So far as the face of Mr. Wadham's client was capable of expressinganything, it expressed now a certain amount of surprise.
"It appears to me, Mr. Wadham," he remarked, "that you are asking me toattend to your business for you."
The lawyer knitted his brows in puzzled fashion.
"I am not sure that I quite follow your lordship," he murmured.
"Do I employ you," his patron continued, "to manage my estates, tocontrol my finances, to act as agent to all my properties, and yet needto keep a perspective myself of my various assets? If eighteenthousand pounds is required, it is for your firm to decide from whatquarter the money should come. Personally, as you know, I neverinterfere."
Mr. Wadham coughed in somewhat embarrassed fashion.
"As a matter of fact, your lordship," he confessed, with a mostillogical sense that it was his duty to apologise for his client'simpecuniosity, "as a matter of fact, neither my partners nor I can atthe present moment see where a sum of eight
een thousand pounds can beraised."
The Marquis rose to his feet and shook the cigarette ash carefully fromhis coat.
"Our conversation, Mr. Wadham," he said, "is reaching a stage whichbores me. I have just remembered, too," he added, with a glance at theclock, "that my daughter is entertaining a few friends to lunch. Youmust write to Merridrew. He is really a most excellent agent. He willtell you what balances are likely to be available during the next fewmonths."
Mr. Wadham received the suggestion without enthusiasm.
"We made an application to Mr. Merridrew some few weeks ago," heremarked, "as we needed some ready money for the purpose of briefingthe barristers. Mr. Merridrew's reply was not encouraging."
"Ah!" the Marquis murmured. "Merridrew is a gloomy dog sometimes. Tryhim again. It is astonishing how elastic he can be if he is squeezed."
"I am afraid your lordship has done all the squeezing," the solicitorobserved ruefully.
A little trill of feminine laughter rang through the room. Two smartlyattired young ladies were seated upon a divan near the door, surroundedby a little group of acquaintances. One of them leaned forward andnodded as the Marquis and his companion passed.
"How do you do, Marquis?" she said, in distinctly transatlantic accents.
The behaviour of his client, under such circumstances, remained anobject lesson to Mr. Wadham for the rest of his life. The Marquisgazed with the faintest expression of surprise at, or perhaps through,the young person who had addressed him. Fumbling for a moment in hiswaistcoat pocket, he raised a horn-rimmed monocle to his eye, droppedit almost at once, and passed on without the flicker of an eyelid. Ontheir way to the outside door, however, he shook his head gravely.
"What a singular exhibition," he murmured,--"demonstration, perhaps Ishould say--of the crudeness of modern social intercourse! Was it myfancy, Wadham, or did the young person up there address me?"
"She certainly did," the other assented. "She even called you by name."
They were standing in the courtyard now, waiting for a taxi, and theMarquis sighed.
"In a public place, too!" he murmured. "Wadham, I am afraid that weare living in the wrong age. I came to that conclusion only a few daysago, when I was invited, actually invited, to dine at the house of--But I forget, Wadham, I forget. Your grandfather would appreciatethese things. You yourself are somewhat imbued, I fear, with themodern taint. A handful of silver, if you please," he added, holdingout his hand. "I am not accustomed to these chance conveyances."
The lawyer searched his trousers pockets, and produced a couple of pinknotes and a few half-crowns. In some mysterious fashion, the wholeseemed to pass into the Marquis's long, aristocratic hand. He turnedto the porter who was standing bare-headed, and slipped a ten-shillingnote into his palm.
"Well, good morning, Wadham," he said, stepping into his taxicab. "Ihave no doubt that you did your best, but this morning's unfortunatehappening will take me some time to get over. My compliments to yoursenior partner. You can say that I am disappointed--no more."
The Marquis crossed his legs and leaned back in the vehicle. Mr.Wadham remained upon the pavement, gazing for a moment at his emptyhand.
"Taxi, sir?" the hall porter asked obsequiously.
Mr. Wadham felt in all his pockets.
"Thank you," he replied gloomily, "I'll walk."