CHAPTER XI
THE BUTTERFLY
The perfect rose of a June sunset was slanting through the fir-woods ofBurchester Park, making the red trunks glow. At the end of a long grassride the new moon dipped to the west, a silver boat uptilted in a greentransparent sea. A very great stillness lay upon all things--the eventidequiet of a summer day.
The dull thudding of a horse's hoofs along the ride scarcely seemed tobreak that magic silence. A frightened rabbit scurrying to cover made nosound at all. Somewhere a long way off a cuckoo was calling, tenderly,persistently. Somewhere near at hand a blackbird was warbling to hismate. But it all went into the enchanted silence, blending with the hushof the coming night. The man who rode the horse was conscious only of thepeace of his surroundings. He doffed his cap to the moon in mockreverence, and carried it in his hand.
He came to the end of the ride and checked his animal on the brow of asteep descent. The park lay below him wrapped in mystery. On anotherslope a full mile away stood the Castle, ancient battlemented, starklysplendid, one westward-facing window burning as with fire. He satmotionless for a space, gazing across at it, his face a curious mask ofconjecture and regret.
Finally, with great suddenness, he lifted his hand and smote his horsesharply on the flank. In a moment he was being precipitated at a headlonggallop down the hill. He went like the wind, and the enchanted woodwas left behind.
Riding up the further slope to the Castle a few minutes later, he washailed from behind and reined in to look back. A long-legged figuredetached itself from a clump of trees that shadowed the bailiff's houseand came racing in pursuit.
"Hi! Charlie! Don't be in such a deuce of a hurry! I'm going your way."
Saltash waited, not too patiently. "My good chap, you're dressed and I'mnot! I shall be late for my guests."
"What's it matter?" scoffed Bunny breathlessly, reaching his side. "Maudand Jake don't count, and Toby is only a kid. I don't suppose she's everbeen out to dine before."
"She's old enough to begin," remarked Saltash, pushing on at a walk.
"Well, she is beginning," said Bunny, with a grin as he strode besidehim. "You haven't seen her for some weeks, have you? You'll see adifference, and so will her father."
"How?" said Saltash briefly.
Bunny's grin became more pronounced. "Oh, it's chiefly clothes. Maud israther clever in that line, you know. I haven't seen a great deal of herlately. She's generally scampering round on horseback with Jake. Butonce or twice--with Maud--I've seen her look quite demure. She's reallygetting almost good-looking," he added dispassionately.
Saltash flung a swift look downwards. "Don't you approve?"
Bunny shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see enough of her to care eitherway. She's still a kid, you know,--quite a kid."
Saltash dropped the subject abruptly. "You're liking your job all right?"
"Rather!" Bunny made instant and enthusiastic reply. "It's just the sortof thing I was made for. Old Bishop's a brick. We're getting quite fondof one another."
"Sort of life you enjoy?" questioned Saltash.
"Oh, rather! I've always thought I'd like to manage a big estate. WishI'd got one of my own."
"All right. I'll adopt you," laughed Saltash. "You shall be the son of myold age."
"Oh, don't be an ass!" protested Bunny. "Why on earth don't you getmarried?"
Saltash's brows twisted wryly. "Afraid I've lived too long, _mon cher_.If I had married your sister in the long ago, things might have beenvastly different. As it is, I see no prospect of changing my state. Thinkit matters?"
"Well, it's rather a shame to let a good name die out," maintained Bunny."And of course it's rot to talk like that about Maud. You can't pretendto have stayed in love with her all these years. There must have beenheaps of others since then."
"No, I'm not pretending," said Saltash. "As you say, there havebeen--heaps of others." He made an odd gesture towards the western skybehind him. "There are always--heaps of stars, Bunny; but there's nevermore than one moon."
"Rot!" said Bunny.
"It is, isn't it?" said Saltash, and laughed with brief derision. "Well,I must get on. You can do the receiving if I'm late. Tell them I've beenin town and only got back at mid-day! You needn't bother about Larpent.I'll see to him."
He flicked his horse's neck and was off with the words.
Bunny, striding after, watched him ride swiftly up the slope till thefir-trees of the avenue hid him from view.
"Queer fish!" he murmured to himself. "Very queer fish!"
He entered the Castle a little later by the great stone hall and found itlighted from end to end as if in preparation for a reception. He hadknown the place for years, but it always struck him afresh with itsmagnificence. It looked like a palace of kings. There were some beautifulpieces of statuary both in marble and bronze, and upon each of these ashaded light shone.
At the end of the hall a wide oak staircase that branched mid-way led toan oak gallery that ran round three sides of the hall, and where itdivided a high door stood open, showing a lighted room beyond. Bunny lefthis coat with the silent-stepping butler and went straight up theshallow stairs.
He entered the stately apartment at the top expecting to find it empty.It was the drawing-room--a vast and lofty chamber with satin-coveredwalls, superbly furnished with old French furniture in royal blue velvetand gilt. There was a further room beyond, but Bunny did not pursue hisway thither, for a man in evening-dress turned suddenly from one of thegreat southward-facing windows and moved to meet him.
He was a gaunt man with a trim beard and the eyes of the sea-farer, andhe walked with a slight roll as if accustomed to pitching decks.
"Sir Bernard Brian?" he said.
Bunny held out his hand. "You're Captain Larpent, of course. I wonderwe've never met before. I've heard of you often enough. Sorry you hadsuch bad luck with _The Night Moth."_
"Oh, damnable luck!" said the sailor gloomily.
"Still you came out of it alive," said Bunny consolingly. "And yourdaughter too. Things might have been worse."
Larpent grunted. "Think so?"
"She does anyway," said Bunny, with a grin.
Larpent grunted again. "Shipboard is not the place for a girl," heremarked.
"Toby seems more at home on horseback than anywhere else," said Bunny.
Larpent gave him a keen look. "Oh, she still goes by that name, doesshe?" he said.
"What do you call her?" said Bunny.
Larpent snapped his fingers curtly.
"Does she come for that?" asked Bunny.
"Usually," said Larpent.
"Then she's more docile than I thought she was," commented Bunny.
Larpent said nothing. He propped himself against the high mantelpiece andstared morosely out before him to the pine-clad slopes of the park.
"How you must hate being ashore!" said Bunny.
"Why do you say that?" Larpent scarcely removed his moody gaze.
"You look as if you did." There was a hint of chaff in Bunny's voice. Hesurveyed the gaunt man with humorous interest, seated on one of the giltchairs with his hands clasped round his knee. "I suppose Saltash will buyanother yacht, won't he?"
Larpent's eyes came definitely down to him, grimly contemptuous. "Do youalso suppose that would be the same thing?" he said.
Bunny flushed a little, but he accepted the rebuff with a good grace. "Idon't know, sir. You see, I've never been the captain of a yacht."
Larpent's hard visage relaxed a little. He resumed his contemplation ofthe distant pine-woods in silence.
Bunny got up whistling and began to stroll about the room. He was neverstill for long. He was not very familiar with the state reception-roomsof Burchester Castle and he found plenty to interest him.
Several minutes passed, and he had almost forgotten the silent man wholeaned against the fire-place, when suddenly Larpent came out of hismelancholy reverie and spoke.
"How long has the child been with these Boltons?"
"I shan't give anyone away," said Larpent grimly.
"Good! You're a sport, I can see."
The genuine appreciation in Bunny's voice brought an icy glimmer ofamusement to the elder man's eyes, but he made no verbal comment.
Again a silence fell, and Bunny came strolling back, a smile on hishandsome boyish face.
"Fine place this," he remarked presently. "It's a pity Saltash is here solittle. He only comes about three times a year, and then only for acouple of nights at a time. There's heaps of game in the woods and no oneto shoot it."
"He probably knows his own business best," remarked Larpent.
"Oh, probably. But the place is wasted on him for all that." Bunny spokewith a frown. "Why on earth he doesn't marry and settle down I can'tthink. Can't you persuade him to?"
"No," said Larpent quite definitely.
Bunny glanced at him. "I don't know why not. I know he's considered tohave gone the pace a bit, but after all he's no worse than a hundredothers. Why the devil shouldn't he marry?"
Larpent shrugged his shoulders. "Don't ask me!" he said.
"Well, he ought to," maintained Bunny. "If you have any influence withhim, you ought to persuade him to."
"I haven't," said Larpent.
Bunny flung away impatiently. "It's a confounded shame--a gorgeous familyplace like this and no one but servants to live in it!"
"It is, isn't it?" gibed Saltash, unexpectedly entering from the furtherdoor. "Large enough for fifty wives, eh, Bunny? Well, as I said before,you get married and I'll adopt you. It'll save me a lot of trouble.You're so keen on recommending the marriage medicine to other people. Tryit yourself, and see how you like it!"
He walked straight down the long room with the words, passing bothLarpent and Bunny on his way, pausing by neither. "I like to hear you twodiscussing my case," he jested. "You, Bunny, who have never had the greatdisease, and Larpent who has never got over it!"
He approached the open door that led out upon the great staircase, thejest still on his lips and the laughter in his eyes. He reached it andstretched out both hands with a fine gesture of greeting.
"Welcome to my poor hovel!" he said. "Madam, I kneel at your feet."
A clear high laugh answered him from below, and both of his companionsturned sharply at the sound.
A figure in white, girlish, fresh as the morning, sprang suddenly intoview. Her eager face had the delicate flush of a wild rose. The hairclustered about her temples in tender ringlets of gold. Her eyes, blueand shining, gave her the look of a child just awakened from happysleep--a child that expects to be lifted up and kissed.
"By--Jove!" murmured Bunny under his breath, staring openly. "By--Jove!"
And these words failed him. He had never been so astounded in his life.This girl--this funny little Toby with the sharp features and pointedchin, the girl-urchin with whom he had chaffed and played--was actually abeauty, and till that amazing moment he had not realized the fact.
As he went forward to greet her, he saw that Larpent was staring also,and he chuckled inwardly at the sight. Decidedly it must be a worse shockfor Larpent than it was for himself, he reflected. For at least he hadseen her in the chrysalis stage, though most certainly he had neverexpected this wonderful butterfly to emerge.
Maud, of course, was the witch who had worked the marvelloustransformation, Maud with her tender mother-wisdom that divined so much.He looked at her now, and wondered as he met her smile if she fullyrealized what she had done.
Across the wonder came Saltash's quizzing voice--"_Mais, Nonette,Nonette_, you are a vision for the gods!"
And a curious hot pang that was like a physical stab went through Bunny.How dared Charlie use that caressing tone to her--as though she were amere ordinary woman to be trifled with and cajoled? He had neverdisapproved of Saltash before, but for that moment he almost hated him.She was too young, too sweet, too--different--to be treated thus.
And then he was standing close to her, and Saltash, laughing, pushed himforward. "Do you know this fellow, _ma chere_?"
The wide blue eyes came up to his with a pleased smile of comradeship."Why, it's Bunny!" the clear voice said. "I'm so glad you're here too--inthis ogre's castle."
Her hand gave his a little confiding squeeze, and Bunny's fingers grippedin answer. He realized suddenly that she was nervous, and all the readychivalry of his nature rose up to protect her. For a moment or two hekept her hand close in his own.
Then Saltash airily took it from him. "Come!" he said lightly. "Here issomeone else you ought to know!"
He wheeled her round with the words. She came face to face with Larpent.There was an instant of dead silence, then Toby uttered a littlequivering laugh.
"Hullo--Captain!" she said
"Hullo!" said Larpent, paused a moment, then abruptly took her by thechin, and, stooping, touched the wide brow with his lips. "All right?" heasked gruffly.
Toby gave a little gasp; she seemed to be trembling. But in a second shelaughed again, with more assurance. "Yes, all right, captain," she said."I--I--I'm glad to see you again. You all right too?"
Bunny, looking on, made the abrupt discovery that Larpent also wasembarrassed. It was Saltash who answered for him, covering the moment'sawkwardness with the innate ease of manner which never seemed to deserthim.
"Of course he's all right. Don't you worry about him! We're going to buyhim another boat as soon as the insurance Company have done talking.Maud, this is my captain, the finest yachtsman you've ever met and myvery good friend."
He threw his merry, dare-devil glance at Larpent as he made theintroduction, and turned immediately to Jake.
"You two ought to get on all right. He disapproves of me almost asstrongly as you do, and--like you--he endures me, he knows notwherefore!"
Jake's red-brown eyes held a smile that made his rugged face look kindlyas he made reply. "Maybe we both have the sense to spot a winner when wesee one, my lord."
Saltash's brows went up derisively. "And maybe you'll both lose goodmoney on the gamble before you've done."
"I think not," said Jake, in his steady drawl. "I've known many a worsestarter than you get home on the straight."
Saltash laughed aloud, and Toby turned with flushed cheeks and liftedeyes, alight and ardent, to her hero's face.
Saltash's glance flashed round to her, the monkeyish grin still about hismouth, and from her to Bunny who stood behind. He did not speak for amoment. Then: "No; you've never known a worse starter, Jake," he said;"and if I do get home on the straight it will be thanks to you."
Very curiously from that moment Bunny found his brief resentment dead.
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