My Lady Caprice
by
Jeffery Farnol
CONTENTS
I. TREASURE TROVE II. THE SHERIFF OF NOTTINGHAM III. THE DESPERADOES IV. MOON MAGIC V. THE EPISODE OF THE INDIAN'S AUNT VI. THE OUTLAW VII. THE BLASTED OAK VIII. THE LAND OF HEART'S DELIGHT
I
TREASURE TROVE
I sat fishing. I had not caught anything, of course--I rarely do, noram I fond of fishing in the very smallest degree, but I fishedassiduously all the same, because circumstances demanded it.
It had all come about through Lady Warburton, Lisbeth's maternal aunt.Who Lisbeth is you will learn if you trouble to read these veraciousnarratives--suffice it for the present that she has been an orphan fromher youth up, with no living relative save her married sister Julia andher Aunt (with a capital A)--the Lady Warburton aforesaid.
Lady Warburton is small and somewhat bony, with a sharp chin and asharper nose, and invariably uses lorgnette; also, she is possessed ofmuch worldly goods.
Precisely a week ago Lady Warburton had requested me to call uponher--had regarded me with a curious exactitude through her lorgnette,and gently though firmly (Lady Warburton is always firm) had suggestedthat Elizabeth, though a dear child, was young and inclined to be alittle self-willed. That she (Lady Warburton) was of opinion thatElizabeth had mistaken the friendship which had existed between us solong for something stronger. That although she (Lady Warburton) quiteappreciated the fact that one who wrote books, and occasionally a play,was not necessarily immoral-- Still I was, of course, a terribleBohemian, and the air of Bohemia was not calculated to conduce to thatdegree of matrimonial harmony which she (Lady Warburton) as Elizabeth'sAunt, standing to her in place of a mother, could wish for. That,therefore, under these circumstances my attentions were--etc., etc.
Here I would say in justice to myself that despite the torrent of hereloquence I had at first made some attempt at resistance; but who couldhope to contend successfully against a woman possessed of such anindomitable nose and chin, and one, moreover, who could level a pair oflorgnette with such deadly precision? Still, had Lisbeth been besideme things might have been different even then; but she had gone awayinto the country--so Lady Warburton had informed me. Thus alone and ather mercy, she had succeeded in wringing from me a half promise that Iwould cease my attentions for the space of six months, "just to givedear Elizabeth time to learn her own heart in regard to the matter."
This was last Monday. On the Wednesday following, as I wanderedaimlessly along Piccadilly, at odds with Fortune and myself, butespecially with myself, my eye encountered the Duchess of Chelsea.
The Duchess is familiarly known as the "Conversational Brook" from thefact that when once she begins she goes on forever. Hence, being in mythen frame of mind, it was with a feeling of rebellion that I obeyedthe summons of her parasol and crossed over to the brougham.
"So she's gone away?" was her greeting as I raised my hat--"Lisbeth,"she nodded, "I happened to hear something about her, you know."
It is strange, perhaps, but the Duchess generally does "happen to hear"something about everything. "And you actually allowed yourself to bebullied into making that promise--Dick! Dick! I'm ashamed of you."
"How was I to help myself?" I began. "You see--"
"Poor boy!" said the Duchess, patting me affectionately with the handleof her parasol, "it wasn't to be expected, of course. You see, I knowher--many, many years ago I was at school with Agatha Warburton."
"But she probably didn't use lorgnettes then, and--"
"Her nose was just as sharp though--'peaky' I used to call it," noddedthe Duchess. "And she has actually sent Lisbeth away--dear child--andto such a horrid, quiet little place, too, where she'll have nobody totalk to but that young Selwyn.
"I beg pardon, Duchess, but--"
"Horace Selwyn, of Selwyn Park--cousin to Lord Selwyn, of Brankesmere.Agatha has been scheming for it a long time, under the rose, you know.Of course, it would be a good match, in a way--wealthy, and allthat--but I must say he bores me horribly--so very serious and precise!"
"Really!" I exclaimed, "do you mean to say--"
"I expect she will have them married before they know it--Agatha'sdreadfully determined. Her character lies in her nose and chin."
"But Lisbeth is not a child--she has a will of her own, and--"
"True," nodded the Duchess, "but is it a match for Agatha's chin? Andthen, too, it is rather more than possible that you are become theobject of her bitterest scorn by now.
"But, my dear Duchess--"
"Oh, Agatha is a born diplomat. Of course she has written before this,and without actually saying it has managed to convey the fact that youare a monster of perfidy; and Lisbeth, poor child, is probably cryingher eyes out, or imagining she hates you, is ready to accept the firstproposal she receives out of pure pique."
"Great heavens!" I exclaimed, "what on earth can I do?"
"You might go fishing," the Duchess suggested thoughtfully.
"Fishing!" I repeated, "--er, to be sure, but--"
"Riverdale is a very pretty place they tell me," pursued the Duchess inthe same thoughtful tone; "there is a house there, a fine old placecalled Fane Court. It stands facing the river, and adjoins SelwynPark, I believe."
"Duchess," I exclaimed, as I jotted down the address upon my cuff, "Iowe you a debt of gratitude that I can never--"
"Tut, tut!" said her Grace.
"I think I'll start to-day, and--"
"You really couldn't do better," nodded the duchess.
* * * * *
And so it befell that on this August afternoon I sat in the shade ofthe alders fishing, with the smoke of my pipe floating up into thesunshine.
By adroit questioning I had elicited from mine host of the Three JollyAnglers the precise whereabouts of Fane Court, the abode of Lisbeth'ssister, and guided by his directions, had chosen this sequestered spot,where by simply turning my head I could catch a glimpse of its tallchimneys above the swaying green of the treetops.
It is a fair thing upon a summer's hot afternoon within some shadybower to lie upon one's back and stare up through a network of branchesinto the limitless blue beyond, while the air is full of the stir ofleaves, and the murmur of water among the reeds. Or propped on lazyelbow, to watch perspiring wretches, short of breath and purple ofvisage, urge boats upstream or down, each deluding himself into thebelief that he is enjoying it. Life under such conditions may seemvery fair, as I say; yet I was not happy. The words of the Duchessseemed everywhere about me.
"You are become the object of her bitterest scorn by now," sobbed thewind.
"You are become," etc., etc., moaned the river. It was therefore withno little trepidation that I looked forward to my meeting with Lisbeth.
It was this moment that the bushes parted and a boy appeared. He was asomewhat diminutive boy, clad in a velvet suit with a lace collar, bothof which were plentifully bespattered with mud. He carried his shoesand stockings beneath one arm, and in the other hand swung a hazelbranch. He stood with his little brown legs well apart, regarding mewith a critical eye; but when at length he spoke his attitude wasdecidedly friendly.
"Hallo, man!"
"Hallo," I returned; "and whom may you be?"
"Well, my real name is Reginald Augustus, but they call me 'The Imp.'"
"I can well believe it," I said, eyeing his muddy person.
"If you please, what is an imp?"
"An imp is a sort of an--angel."
"But," he demurred, after a moment's thought, "I haven't got wings an'things--or a trumpet."
"Your kind never do have wings and trumpets."
"Oh, I see," he said; and sitting d
own began to wipe the mud from hislegs with his stockings.
"Rather muddy, aren't you?" I hinted. The boy cast a furtive glance athis draggled person.
"'Fraid I'm a teeny bit wet, too," he said hesitatingly. "You see,I've been playing at 'Romans' an' I had to wade, you know, because Iwas the standard bearer who jumped into the sea waving his sword an'crying, 'Follow me!' You remember him, don't you?--he's in the historybook."
"To be sure," I nodded; "a truly heroic character. But if you were theRomans, where were the ancient Britons?"
"Oh, they were the reeds, you know; you ought to have seen me slaythem. It was fine; they went down like--like--"
"Corn before a sickle," I suggested.
"Yes, just!" he cried; "the battle raged for hours."
"You must be rather tired."
"'Course not," he answered, with an indignant look. "I'm not agirl--and I'm nearly nine, too."
"I gather from your tone that you are not partial to the sex--you don'tlike girls, eh, Imp?"
"Should think not," he returned; "silly things, girls are. There'sDorothy, you know; we were playing at executions the other day--she wasMary Queen of Scots an' I was the headsman. I made a lovely axe withwood and silver paper, you know; and when I cut her head off she criedawfully, and I only gave her the weeniest little tap--an' they sent meto bed at six o'clock for it. I believe she cried on purpose--awfullycaddish, wasn't it?"
"My dear Imp," said I, "the older you grow, the more the depravity ofthe sex will become apparent to you."
"Do you know, I like you," he said, regarding me thoughtfully, "I thinkyou are fine."
"Now that's very nice of you, Imp; in common with my kind I have aweakness for flattery--please go on."
"I mean, I think you are jolly."
"As to that," I said, shaking my head and sighing, "appearances areoften very deceptive; at the heart of many a fair blossom there is acanker worm."
"I'm awfull' fond of worms, too," said the Imp.
"Indeed?"
"Yes. I got a pocketful yesterday, only Aunty found out an' made melet them all go again."
"Ah--yes," I said sympathetically; "that was the woman of it."
"I've only got one left now," continued the Imp; and thrusting a handinto the pocket of his knickerbockers he drew forth six inches or so ofslimy worm and held it out to me upon his small, grimy palm.
"He's nice and fat!" I said.
"Yes," nodded the Imp; "I caught him under the gooseberry bushes;" anddropping it back into his pocket he proceeded to don his shoes andstockings.
"Fraid I'm a bit muddy," he said suddenly.
"Oh, you might be worse," I answered reassuringly.
"Do you think they'll notice it?" he inquired, contorting himselfhorribly in order to view the small of his back.
"Well," I hesitated, "it all depends, you know."
"I don't mind Dorothy, or Betty the cook, or the governess--it's AuntieLisbeth I'm thinking about."
"Auntie--who?" I exclaimed, regardless of grammar.
"Auntie Lisbeth," repeated the Imp.
"What is she like?"
"Oh, she's grown up big, only she's nice. She came to take care ofDorothy an' me while mother goes away to get nice an strong--oh AuntieLisbeth's jolly, you know."
"With black hair and blue eyes?"
The Imp nodded.
"And a dimple at the corner of her mouth?" I went on dreamily--"adimple that would lead a man to the--Old Gentleman himself."
"What old gentleman?"
"Oh, a rather disreputable old gentleman," I answered evasively.
"An' do you know my Auntie Lisbeth?"
"I think it extremely probable--in fact, I'm sure of it."
"Then you might lend me your handkerchief, please; I tied mine to a bushfor a flag, you know, an' it blew away."
"You'd better come here and I'll give you a rub-down my Imp." Heobeyed, with many profuse expressions of gratitude.
"Have you got any Aunties?" he inquired, as I laboured upon his miryperson.
"No," I answered, shaking my head; "unfortunately mine are all Auntsand that is vastly different."
"Oh," said the Imp, regarding me with a puzzled expression; "are theynice--I mean do they ever read to you out of the history book, and help youto sail boats, an' paddle?"
"Paddle?" I repeated
"Yes. My Auntie Lisbeth does. The other day we got up awfull' earlyan' went for a walk an' we came to the river, so we took off our shoesan' stockings an' we paddled; it was ever so jolly, you know. An' whenAuntie wasn't looking I found a frog an' put it in her stocking."
"Highly strategic, my Imp! Well?"
"It was awful funny," he said, smiling dreamily. "When she went to putit on she gave a little high-up scream like Dorothy does when I pinchher a bit--an' then she throwed them both away, 'cause she was afraidthere was frogs in both of them. Then she put on her shoes without anystockings at all, so I hid them."
"Where?" I cried eagerly.
"Reggie!" called a voice some distance away--a voice I recognised witha thrill. "Reggie!"
"Imp, would you like half a crown?"
"'Course I would; but you might clean my back, please," and he beganrubbing himself feverishly with his cap, after the fashion of ascrubbing brush.
"Look here," I said, pulling out the coin, "tell me where you hidthem--quick--and I'll give you this." The Imp held out his hand, buteven as he did so the bushes parted and Lisbeth stood before us. Shegave a little, low cry of surprise at sight of me, and then frowned.
"You?" she exclaimed.
"Yes," I answered, raising my cap. And there I stopped, tryingfrantically to remember the speech I had so carefully prepared--thegreeting which was to have explained my conduct and disarmed herresentment at the very outset. But rack my brain as I would, I couldthink of nothing but the reproach in her eyes--her disdainful mouth andchin--and that one haunting phrase:
"'I suppose I am become the object of your bitterest scorn by now?'" Ifound myself saying.
"My aunt informed me of--of everything, and naturally--"
"Let me explain," I began.
"Really, it is not at all necessary."
"But, Lisbeth, I must--I insist--"
"Reginald," she said, turning toward the Imp, who was still busy withhis cap, "it's nearly tea-time, and--why, whatever have you been doingto yourself?"
"For the last half hour," I interposed, "we have been exchanging ouropinions on the sex."
"An' talking 'bout worms," added the Imp. "This man is fond of worms,too, Auntie Lisbeth--I like him."
"Thanks," I said; "but let me beg of you to drop your very distant modeof address, Call me Uncle Dick."
"But you're not my Uncle Dick, you know," he demurred.
"Not yet, perhaps; but there's no knowing what may happen some day ifyour Auntie thinks us worthy--so take time by the forelock, my Imp, andcall me Uncle Dick."
Whatever Lisbeth might or might not have said was checked by the patterof footsteps, and a little girl tripped into view, with a small, fluffykitten cuddled in her arms.
"Oh, Auntie Lisbeth," she began, but stopped to stare at me over theback of the fluffy kitten.
"Hallo, Dorothy!" cried the imp; "this is Uncle Dick. You can come an'shake hands with him if you like."
"I didn't know I had an Uncle Dick," said Dorothy, hesitating.
"Oh, yes; it's all right," answered the Imp reassuringly. "I foundhim, you know, an' he likes worms, too!"
"How do you do, Uncle Dick?" she said in a quaint, old-fashioned way."Reginald is always finding things, you know, an' he likes worms, too!"Dorothy gave me her hand demurely.
From somewhere near by there came the silvery chime of a bell.
"Why, there's the tea-bell!" exclaimed Lisbeth; "and, Reginald, youhave to change those muddy clothes. Say good-bye to Mr. Brent,children, and come along."
"Imp," I whispered as the others turned away, "where did you hide thosestockings?" And I slippe
d the half crown into his ready palm.
"Along the river there's a tree--very big an' awfull' fat, you know,with a lot of stickie-out branches, an' a hole in its stomach--they'rein there."
"Reginald!" called Lisbeth.
"Up stream or down?"
"That way," he answered, pointing vaguely down stream; and with a nodthat brought the yellow curls over his eyes he scampered off.
"Along the river," I repeated, "in a big, fat tree with a lot ofstickie-out branches!" It sounded a trifle indefinite, Ithought--still I could but try. So having packed up my rod I set outupon the search.
It was strange, perhaps, but nearly every tree I saw seemed to beeither "big" or "fat"--and all of them had "stickie-out" branches.
Thus the sun was already low in the west, and I was lighting my fifthpipe when I at length observed the tree in question.
A great pollard oak it was, standing upon the very edge of the stream,easily distinguishable by its unusual size and the fact that at sometime or another it had been riven by lightning. After all, the Imp'sdescription had been in the main correct; it was "fat," immensely fat:and I hurried joyfully forward.
I was still some way off when I saw the distant flutter of a whiteskirt, and--yes, sure enough, there was Lisbeth, walking quickly too,and she was a great deal nearer the tree than I.
Prompted by a sudden conviction, I dropped my rod and began to run.Immediately Lisbeth began running, too. I threw away my creel andsprinted for all I was worth. I had earned some small fame at thissort of thing in my university days, yet I arrived at the tree withonly a very few yards to spare. Throwing myself upon my knees, Icommenced a feverish search, and presently--more by good fortune thanany thing else--my random fingers encountered a soft, silken bundle.When Lisbeth came up, flushed and panting, I held them in my hands.
"Give them to me!" she cried.
"I'm sorry--"
"Please," she begged.
"I'm very sorry--"
"Mr. Brent." said Lisbeth, drawing her self up, "I'll trouble you formy--them."
"Pardon me, Lisbeth," I answered, "but if I remember anything of thelaw of 'treasure-trove' one of these should go to the Crown, and onebelongs to me."
Lisbeth grew quite angry--one of her few bad traits.
"You will give them up at once--immediately?
"On the contrary," I said very gently, "seeing the Crown can have nouse for one, I shall keep them both to dream over when the nights arelong and lonely."
Lisbeth actually stamped her foot at me, and I tucked "them" into mypocket.
"How did you know they--they were here?" she inquired after a pause.
"I was directed to a tree with 'stickie-out' branches," I answered.
"Oh, that Imp!" she exclaimed, and stamped her foot again.
"Do you know, I've grown quite attached to that nephew of minealready?" I said.
"He's not a nephew of yours," cried Lisbeth quite hotly.
"Not legally, perhaps; that is where you might be of such assistance tous Lisbeth. A boy with only an aunt here and there is unbalanced, soto speak; he requires the stronger influence of an uncle. Not," Icontinued hastily, "that I would depreciate aunts--by the way, he hasbut one, I believe?" Lisbeth nodded coldly.
"Of course," I nodded; "and very lucky in that one--extremelyfortunate. Now, years ago, when I was a boy, I had three, and all ofthem blanks, so to speak. I mean none of them ever read to me out ofthe history book, or helped me to sail boats, or paddled and losttheir--No, mine used to lecture me about my hair and nails, I remember,and glare at me over the big tea urn until I choked into my teacup. Atruly desolate childhood mine. I had no big-fisted uncle to thump mepersuasively when I needed it; had fortune granted me one I might havebeen a very different man, Lisbeth. You behold in me a horribleexample of what one may become whose boyhood has been denuded ofuncles."
"If you will be so very obliging as to return my--my property."
"My dear Lisbeth," I sighed, "be reasonable; suppose we talk ofsomething else;" and I attempted, though quite vainly, to direct herattention to the glories of the sunset.
A fallen tree lay near by, upon which Lisbeth seated herself with acertain determined set of her little, round chin that I knew well.
"And how long do you intend keeping me here?" she asked in a resignedtone.
"Always, if I had my way."
"Really?" she said, and whole volumes could never describe all thescorn she managed to put into that single word. "You see," shecontinued, "after what Aunt Agatha wrote and told me--"
"Lisbeth," I broke in, "if you'll only--"
"I naturally supposed--"
"If you'll only let me explain--"
"That you would abide by the promise you made her and wait--"
"Until you knew your own heart," I put in. "The question is, how longwill it take you? Probably, if you would allow me to teach you--"
"Your presence here now stamps you as--as horribly deceitful!"
"Undoubtedly," I nodded; "but you see when I was foolish enough to givethat promise your very excellent Aunt made no reference to herintentions regarding a certain Mr. Selwyn."
"Oh!" exclaimed Lisbeth. And feeling that I had made a point, Icontinued with redoubled ardour:
"She gave me to understand that she merely wished you to have time toknow your own heart in the matter. Now, as I said before, how longwill it take you to find out, Lisbeth?"
She sat chin in hand staring straight before her, and her black browswere still drawn together in a frown. But I watched her mouth--justwhere the scarlet underlip curved up to meet its fellow.
Lisbeth's mouth is a trifle wide, perhaps, and rather full-lipped, andsomewhere at one corner--I can never be quite certain of its exactlocation, because its appearance is, as a rule, so very meteoric--butsomewhere there is a dimple. Now, if ever there was an arrant traitorin this world it is that dimple; for let her expression be ever soguileless, let her wistful eyes be raised with a look of tears in theirblue depths, despite herself that dimple will spring into life and undoit all in a moment. So it was now, even as I watched it quivered roundher lips, and feeling herself betrayed, the frown vanished altogetherand she smiled. "And now, Dick, suppose you give me my--my--"
"Conditionally," I said, sitting down beside her.
The sun had set, and from somewhere among the purple shadows of thewood the rich, deep notes of a blackbird came to us, with pauses nowand then, filled in with the rustle of leaves and the distant lowing ofcows.
"Not far from the village of Down in Kent," I began dreamily, "therestands an old house with quaint, high-gabled roofs and twisted Tudorchimneys! Many years ago it was the home of fair ladies and gallantgentlemen, but its glory is long past. And yet, Lisbeth, when I thinkof it at such an hour as this, and with you beside me, I begin towonder if we could not manage between us to bring back the old order ofthings."
Lisbeth was silent.
"It has a wonderful old-fashioned rose garden, and you are fond ofroses, Lisbeth."
"Yes," she murmured; "I'm very fond of roses."
"They would be in full bloom now," I suggested.
There was another pause, during which the blackbird performed three orfour difficult arias with astonishing ease and precision.
"Aunt Agatha is fond of roses, too!" said Lisbeth at last very gravely."Poor, dear Aunt, I wonder what she would say if she could see us now?"
"Such things are better left to the imagination," I answered.
"I ought to write and tell her," murmured Lisbeth.
"But you won't do that, of course?"
"No, I won't do that if--"
"Well?"
"If you will give me--them."
"One," I demurred.
"Both!"
"On one condition then--just once, Lisbeth?"
Her lips were very near, her lashes drooped, and for one deliciousmoment she hesitated. Then I felt a little tug at my coat pocket andspringing to her feet she was away with "them"
clutched in her hand.
"Trickery!" I cried, and started in pursuit.
There is a path through the woods leading to the Shrubbery at PaneCourt. Down this she fled, and her laughter came to me on the wind. Iwas close upon her when she reached the gate, and darting through,turned, flushed but triumphant.
"I've won!" she mocked, nodding her head at me.
"Who can cope with the duplicity of a woman?" I retorted! "But,Lisbeth, you will give me one--just one?"
"It would spoil the pair."
"Oh, very well," I sighed, "good night, Lisbeth," and lifting my cap Iturned away.
There came a ripple of laughter be hind me, something struck me softlyupon the cheek, and stooping, I picked up that which lay half unrolledat my feet, but when I looked round Lisbeth was gone.
So presently I thrust "them" into my pocket and walked back slowlyalong the river path toward the hospitable shelter of the Three JollyAnglers.