CHAPTER IX
THE HEAD OF THE HOUSE
"Hullo, Lucas! Can I come in?"
Nap Errol stood outside his brother's door, an impatient frown on hisface, his hand already fidgeting at the handle.
"Come in, old chap," drawled back a kindly voice.
He entered with an abruptness that seemed to denote agitation.
The room was large and brilliantly lighted. In an easy chair by the firethe eldest Errol was reclining, while his valet, a huge man with thefeatures of an American Indian half-breed and fiery red hair, put thefinishing touches to his evening dress.
Nap approached the fire with his usual noiseless tread despite the factthat he was still in riding boots.
"Be quick, Hudson!" he said. "We don't want you."
Hudson rolled a nervous eye at him and became clumsily hasty.
"Take your time," his master said quietly. "Nap, my friend, hadn't youbetter dress?"
Nap stopped before the fire and pushed it with his foot. "I am not goingto dine," he said.
Lucas Errol said no more. He lay still in his chair with his head backand eyes half-closed, a passive, pathetic figure with the shoulders of astrong man and the weak, shrunken limbs of a cripple. His face was quitesmooth. It might have belonged to a boy of seventeen save for the eyes,which were deeply sunken and possessed the shrewd, quizzicalintelligence of age.
He lay quite motionless as though he were accustomed to remain for hoursin one position. Hudson the valet tended him with the reverence of aslave. Nap fell to pacing soundlessly to and fro, awaiting the man's exitwith what patience he could muster.
"You can go now, Tawny," the elder Errol drawled at last. "I will ringwhen I want you. Now, Boney, what is it? I wish you would sit down."
There was no impatience in the words, but his brows were slightly drawnas he uttered them,
Nap, turning swiftly, noted the fact. "You are not so well to-night?"
"Sit down," his brother repeated gently. "How is Lady Carfax?"
Nap sat down with some reluctance. He looked as if he would havepreferred to prowl.
"She is still unconscious, and likely to remain so. The doctor thinksvery seriously of her."
"Her husband has been informed?"
"Her husband," said Nap from between his teeth, "has been informed, andhe declines to come to her. That's the sort of brute he is."
Lucas Errol made no comment, and after a moment Nap continued:
"It is just as well perhaps. I hear he is never sober after a day'ssport. And I believe she hates the sight of him if the truth weretold--and small wonder!"
There was unrestrained savagery in the last words. Lucas turned his headand looked at him thoughtfully.
"You know her rather well?" he said.
"Yes." Nap's eyes, glowing redly, met his with a gleam of defiance.
"You have known her for long?" The question was perfectly quiet, utteredin the tired voice habitual to this man who had been an invalid foralmost the whole of his manhood.
Yet Nap frowned as he heard it. "I don't know," he said curtly. "I don'testimate friendships by time."
Lucas said no more, but he continued to look at his brother withunvarying steadiness till at length, as if goaded thereto, Napspoke again.
"We are friends," he said, "no more, no less. You all think me ablackguard, I know. It's my speciality, isn't it?" He spoke withexceeding bitterness. "But in this case you are wrong. I repeat--weare friends."
He said it aggressively; his tone was almost a challenge, but the elderErrol did not appear to notice.
"I have never thought you a blackguard, Boney," he said quietly.
Nap's thin lips smiled cynically. "You have never said it."
"I have never thought it." There was no contradicting the calm assertion.It was not the way of the world to contradict Lucas Errol. "And I knowyou better than a good many," he said.
Nap stirred restlessly and was silent.
Lucas turned his eyes from him and seemed to fall into a reverie.Suddenly, however, he roused himself.
"What does the doctor say about her?"
Nap frowned. "He says very little. After the manner of his tribe, he isafraid to commit himself; thinks there may be this injury or there may bethat, but says definitely nothing. I shall get someone down from townto-morrow. I'd go tonight, only--" he broke off, hammering impotentlywith his clenched fist on the arm of his chair. "I must be at handto-night," he said, after a moment, controlling himself. "The mater haspromised to call me if there is any change. You see," he spokehalf-apologetically, "she might feel kind of lonely waking up in a crowdof strangers, and mine is the only face she knows."
Silence followed the words. Lucas had closed his eyes, and there wasnothing in his face to indicate the trend of his thoughts.
Nap sat with his face to the fire, and stared unblinkingly into the reddepths. There was no repose in his attitude, only the tension ofsuppressed activity.
Softly at length his brother's voice came through the silence. "Why notdine, dear fellow, while you are waiting? You will do no good to anyoneby starving yourself."
Nap looked round. "In Heaven's name, don't talk to me of eating!" hesaid savagely. "You don't know what I've been through." Again he pausedto control himself, then added in a lower tone, "I thought she was dead,you know."
"It was you who picked her up?" Lucas asked.
"Yes. There was no one else near." He spoke with feverish rapidity, asthough he found speaking a relief. "It was the old chalk-pit. You knowthe place--or p'r'aps you don't. It's a ten-foot drop. The brute wentclean over, and he must have rolled on her or kicked her getting up." Hedrew a sharp breath between his teeth. "When I found her she was lyingall crumpled up. I thought her back was broken at first."
A sudden shudder assailed him. He repressed it fiercely.
"And then, you know, it was foggy. I couldn't leave her. I wasafraid of losing my bearings. And so I just had to wait--Heavenknows how long--till one of the keepers heard me shouting, and wentfor help. And all that time--all that time--I didn't know whethershe was alive or dead."
His voice sank to a hard whisper. He got up and vigorously poked thefire.
Lucas Errol endured the clatter for several seconds in silence:then, "Boney," he said, "since you are feeling energetic, you mightlend me a hand."
Nap laid down the poker instantly. "I am sorry, old fellow. I forgot. Letme ring for Hudson."
"Can't you help me yourself?" Lucas asked.
Nap hesitated for a second; then stooped in silence to give the requiredassistance. Lucas Errol, with a set face, accepted it, but once on hisfeet he quitted Nap's support and leaned upon the mantelpiece to wipehis forehead.
"I knew I should hurt you," Nap said uneasily.
The millionaire forced a smile that was twisted in spite of him. "Nevermind me!" he said. "It is your affairs that trouble me just now, not myown. And, Boney, if you don't have a meal soon, you'll be making a bigfool of yourself and everyone will know it."
The very gentleness of his speech seemed to make the words the moreemphatic. Nap raised no further protest.
"Go and have it right now," his brother said.
"And--in case I don't see you again--goodnight!"
He held out his hand, still leaning against the mantelpiece. His eyes,blue and very steady, looked straight into Nap's. So for a second ortwo he held him while Nap, tight-lipped, uncompromising, lookedstraight back.
Then, "Good-night," Lucas said again gravely, and let him go.
Yet for an instant longer Nap lingered as one on the verge of speech. Butnothing came of it. He apparently thought better--or worse--of theimpulse, and departed light-footed in silence.
The Knave of Diamonds Page 9
