The Riddle of the Spinning Wheel

by Thomas W. Hanshew and Mary E. Hanshew

  CHAPTER VI

  WHEN THE SWORD FELL

  Luncheon at Aygon Castle resolved itself into a somewhat dull andceremonious affair, and although there were a good many of them roundthe festive board, conversation languished and laughter was noticeableby its absence.

  "What a devil of a family to live with!--sitting as though there were acold-water poultice on top of 'em," mentally registered Cleek as hesurveyed the company and tried his best to add to the general interestby anecdotes of a recent tour in Ireland; but his conversational effortsevoked only an occasional "Indeed?" from Sir Andrew. Entertaining thesepeople ought to be a paid task in itself, he decided. They hadn't gotany further with civilization than the hired-jester period. Gloom wasglory to the atmosphere of that room during the interminable meal. Helooked from one to another keenly.

  First the old laird, solemn as a judge, and concerned only with what wasput before him, with the strange greed of the very old; and at the footof the table, his lady, offering a contrast that was as darkness today. Cleek sat on the right of his host with Maud Duggan beside him, andopposite her brother Ross--a big, broad-shouldered, hawk-nosed chap withthe small blue eye of the Scot, keen as a knife-blade, and showing inthe winged flare of nostril the blood that ran in his veins. A likable,clever fellow. Cleek warmed to him on sight. And yet--his eye swung onhim again. Next to Ross sat Miss McCall, eyes downcast, speaking onlywhen spoken to, very patiently the servant of a mistress who wouldinstantly quell any attempt at familiarity or breach of position uponher part; and next to Miss McCall, little Cyril, black-haired,brown-eyed, wide-lipped as any other Italian boy, with the soft olivebloom upon his cheeks that is youth's own birthright.

  "And they called him Cyril!--a wishy-washy name like that!" thoughtCleek disgustedly, looking long at him. "What a perfectly beautiful boy!And looks delicate, too. No wonder the mother loves him. There'ssomething appealing in those pansy eyes of his that would lure bloodfrom a stone. I must have a chat with him later on. He'll tell me muchof this strange family, if I get the right side of him to begin with."

  He commenced tactics right away, and caught Cyril's boyish fancy in awonderful story of a heroic and marvellous engine-driver whom he hadknown.

  "And I'll tell you some more about him, too--after lunch is over--ifyou'll take me out and show me the grounds of this beautiful place," hepromised, with a nod and a smile which won Cyril's hero-worshipping soulinstantly and gained for Cleek an ally who, if handled in the right way,might prove more useful than he had at first imagined. "There's onestory I remember about the Calais express, and how that chap got thebetter of a pack of Apaches who were after the mail-bags.Gospel-truth!--it's wonderful! We're goin' to be good pals, Cyril, I cansee."

  "Only, please, _please_ do not fill his mind up with any moreimaginings, Mr. Deland, than he has already got for himself," threw inLady Paula, with an arch glance at Cleek and a little self-consciouslaugh. "He is already filled to the brim with his stepbrother'selectrical madnesses. Ross has woven a spell over him, I think, inwhich--what do you call it?--flex and tungsten and short-circuits andall the rest of that impossible jargon of these light-fiends areinextricably mixed. I sometimes fear for Cyril's sanity! He talks in hissleep all night long of these things, and then wakes in the morning,pale as death. But I cannot make him do other than spend all thesebeautiful, long summer days in that stuffy laboratory with Ross,watching him at what he calls his experiments."

  She flashed a smile into Ross Duggan's suddenly flushed face, as thoughthe words she spoke bore no intended sting and innocence alone hadprompted her to speak her mind thus freely. But the timed shaft had itsdesired effect, for Cyril turned quickly upon his mother with darkeningbrows.

  "So silly of you, Mater, not wanting me to learn all about that rippingelectricity. And Ross knows such a lot, too, and I love to sit and watchhim. And he lets me help sometimes--don't you, Ross?"

  "Yes, old chap."

  "Well, then, I can't see what all the fuss is about, Mater. I reallycan't. Why, that light in my room's ripping for reading at night,instead of the fuggy old lamp we used to have there, and----"

  An agonized look from Maud Duggan sent his brave words trailing off intonothingness. But already the mischief was done. The black cloud hadsettled upon Sir Andrew's face, and the sluggish blood was clotting intemple veins and cheeks, telling of the anger within. The pin-point eyesunder their beetling brows were more steel-like than ever. He rose tohis feet suddenly, and brought one shaking fist down upon the table-topwith a force that sent the glasses jangling and the table silverrattling to the tune of it.

  "Have done!" he thundered furiously, trembling in a rage that had becomean old man's obsession, and which responded to the constant playing uponit like a deep-throated viola in the hands of a musician who understoodit; "have done with all this extravagant nonsense! Haven't I threatenedRoss enough as it is, to take his time-wasting, money-eating experimentsout of my house?--and now he not only disobeys my spoken word, butactually causes the illness of my youngest son himself. Pale?--of coursethe boy is pale! Hanging about indoors in a stuffy room, watching hisfather's money poured out like water to tickle the fancy of a fool whois old enough to know better! I'll have none of him--none of him! He maysing for his bread and butter in future!--go out into the streets andbeg for it, as better beggers than he have done! But he'll leave thehouse--he----"

  "Father!"

  It was Maud Duggan who spoke, rising quickly and hurrying round to him,to put an arm about his shaking shoulders. "We have a guest--astranger----"

  "This is no time for guests or strangers! The moment has come, and I'llhave done with it once and for all!" he thundered back at her, with anold man's persistence, and the single-mindedness of the ill and aged."Mr. Deland will pardon what must seem an extraordinary outburst, butMr. Deland will not stop it. I am master here, and my will is law. Imean to enforce it. My mind is made up. Shall I watch my boy Cyril growup into just another such maniac, think you? Until he has not restedcontent but that the whole Highlands be lit with his preciouselectricity--at the price of his father's fortune?... Paula, mydear--m-my medicine----" He shook slightly, and then an ague took himand he trembled. He dropped back into his chair, a huddled, shiveringold man in whom the power of his anger had burnt the frail spirit into amere husk of its former strength; and in an instant Lady Paula was uponher feet, running round to him, and fumbling as she ran with her fingersin her bodice.

  "My dear!--my dear! You must not so excite yourself. It is not good foryou. Not right," she said soothingly, taking his head in her arms andpillowing it against her breast; meanwhile with her other hand shedeftly unscrewed the top of a little bottle she had drawn from herblouse, and shook out one tiny pellet, which she placed between histrembling lips. "Take this, dearest, and you will feel better.... Alight drug, Mr. Deland, which the doctor orders at such times. Poordear!--poor dear! it is such a constant worry to him, this continuousquarrel with his own flesh-and-blood. If you had really loved yourfather, Ross----"

  "As _you_ love him, no doubt I should be able to emulate your methods ofattack better," he returned, stung suddenly out of his bitter silence bythe reproach. "But I have been brought up in another school, Paula,where we deal square blows that do not strike below the belt, and wherewe do not let our ambitions play upon a flattered old man's affectionsquite so cleverly or so perceptibly as you do!"

  "Stop!"

  The mischief was out, the damage was done, and in one moment that dulland insignificant luncheon-table had been transformed into somethingthat was more like a third-rate melodrama than a family quarrel amongpeople of the better class. But the thing had been thrashed out so manytimes before that politeness had worn thin, and each one spoke his mindwith a bitterness which left nothing to the imagination. Here was theactual canker of a family's innermost heart, with all the outer coveringworn thin by constant bickerings and the whole ugly reality of the thingstarkly revealed.

  Cleek's face went grim as he watched the blanched faces about
the table.The stammering, broken voice of Sir Andrew tore into the sudden silence.The old man was struggling up out of his chair, and from the detainingarms of wife and daughter, face livid, lips twitching, the vein in histransparent temple standing out like a piece of blue whip-cord. Hisclenched hand shook in the air, trembling with the force that he putinto it.

  "Stop it! How dare you say such words to my wife--how dare you! Youshall pay for this, Ross Duggan, and pay dearly! To-night I alter mywill--to-night I strike your name from it forever and make the estatesover to someone else. But your name goes out of it--as youdo--_to-night_!... Paula, your arm."

  He swung toward his wife with all the dignity of his years and hisinheritance, and took the arm she held out to him, clinging to it as achild to its mother's skirts, and falteringly left the room, where hiswords had fallen upon those remaining like the sword of Damocles itself.Ross had gone white--deathly white, as had Maud Duggan herself--and allthe indignity of this thing before a stranger to their household showeditself in his tense countenance.

  "Gad! I'll go--and go _now_!" he rapped out, in a very fever of fury andoutraged pride. "And glad to get away, too! Such an infernal hell-nestof a place as _she_ has made out of a decent British home!"

  "Ross! She's my mater, you know."

  "Sorry, old chap! I forgot for a moment. But it shan't occur again. I'llbe off, Maud, and get along to Cynthia's. She'll have something to sayabout this, I daresay, and her Guv'nor will probably give me a leg-up infinding a job. I'm better out of this. Mr. Deland, you've been theunwilling victim of an unpleasant scene--and a family scene, which ismost unpleasant of all. I must apologize to you. Had I foreseen anythingof the sort, we would have postponed your luncheon until a later date.It might have been more agreeable for you. Good-bye, and I'm sorry Ishan't see more of you. I'm clearing off now, Maud--you can send alongmy things later."

  Maud Duggan's eyes searched his face, a look in them of agonizedquestion, as if she was unable to believe the evidence of her own ears.Then she ran to him and caught him suddenly by the arm.

  "Ross, dear, you mustn't be so hasty! You mustn't!" she entreated,squeezing his arm in her two hands as he looked down at her with hisset, angry face. "You know Father, dear. He'll wish in half an hour,he'd bitten his tongue out sooner than spoken to you like that. You knowhe will. You're his first-born and his favourite--as you have alwaysbeen. Try and see this thing clearly. Don't act in a hurry, dear. Justwait--wait until this evening, for my sake if not for your own. Don'tleave me here to stick the thing out by myself. It isn't fair to me."

  That last plea seemed to strike home better than all the others haddone, for the anger faded suddenly from his countenance, and he laid ahand against her cheek before swinging upon his heel.

  "Well, I'll think about it, and see what Cynthia says, anyhow," hereplied, after a pause. "Only, I've reached the end of my tether, andhuman nature won't stand too much. Sorry, Miss McCall. Did I tread uponyour foot? I'm so blithering angry I don't really know what I'm doing,so you must forgive me."

  And for the first time the company seemed aware that Johanna McCall hadbeen a silent spectator of this family scene. For she had kept, asusual, as quiet as a mouse, only, Cleek observed as he looked at her,her eyes had blazed with that one light which no fire can quench, andshe had shut them for a moment, as though to hide the secret theyrevealed from Ross Duggan's troubled face.

  "It's all right, really. And I'm so--awfully sorry, Mr. Duggan," shesaid in her soft, monotonous voice. "It is so unfair, so unjust! Andplease don't go--without saying good-bye--to me."

  Then she, too, turned upon her heel and fled out of the room. Andsuddenly Cleek saw one thing startlingly clear. Miss Duggan hadmentioned "an attraction" in Johanna McCall's eyes. That was why shestayed on here at the Castle and endured so much. But she had given himto understand that it was Tavish.

  But it was _not_ Tavish who had inspired that unquenching fire in thosepale eyes; it was _not_ Tavish who had set that hero-worshippingexpression upon the plain, unattractive face.

  It was the disinherited heir to the estates himself!

  * * * * *

  That afternoon, after he had left the Castle and its inhabitants behind,he wired Mr. Narkom, as he had said he would. The enigmatic words whichflew across the wire to Scotland Yard, in their own particular code, andmade Mr. Narkom fairly jump in excitement, were these: "_Full up rightto the brim. Come along. Cleek._"