CHAPTER FOUR.
SIEGE HOUSE AND ITS WAYS.
"Oh, what a perfect beauty! Look, Bob. Free wheel, Bowden brakes,everything."
The hall of Siege House was littered with wrappings and twine, in themidst of which stood Delia Calmour, in a fervour of delight andadmiration, while her brother Bob extracted from its crate a brand newbicycle which had just been delivered by railway van.
"Rather! Gee and Vincent, tip-top maker," pronounced the said Bob,wheeling her machine clear of the litter and surveying it critically."You're in luck's way this time, Delia. First chop new bike for abeginning, and now what about the damages? I'm only wondering whetherfive hundred would be starting too low."
"Damages! What are you talking about?" said Delia shortly.
"Why, you got a toss, didn't you--a bad one too--and owing to Wagram'swild beast. There you are. First-rate grounds for action. Damages adead cert. The only question is how much."
"Oh Bob, don't be such a beastly young cad," retorted Delia, with aheightened colour and a flash in her eyes, plain speaking being thecustom at Siege House. "But then I forgot," she continued, coldlyironical. "It's your trade to scent out plunder, or will be when you'velearnt it. Good boy, Bob. Stick to biz, and never miss a chance."
The point of which remark was that its object was in the employ of afirm of solicitors. Incidentally, he was a loose hung, pale facedyouth, who was won't to turn on an exaggerated raffishness out of officehours, under the impression that it was sporting.
"I should think not," retorted Bob angrily. "And I don't see any sensein jumping down my throat because I want to do you a good turn."
"What are you kicking up such a row about Bob, and how the devil am Igoing to get through my typing in the middle of all this jaw?"
The above, uttered in a sweet and fluty voice, proceeded from anexceedingly handsome girl who now appeared from an adjoining door. Shehad straight regular features of the classical order, and a pair oflarge limpid blue eyes, the soulful innocence of whose expressionimparted an air of spirituality to the whole face. Yet never wasexpression more entirely deceptive.
"Oh, keep your hair on, Clytie. I'm only telling Delia how to get fivehundred damages out of Wagram. You'd never have got your cool thou, outof Vance if it hadn't been for me. It's her turn now," sneered Bob.
"You mean I'd never have got what your precious firm chose to pass on tome out of it," retorted the girl serenely. Her brother grinned.
"Biz is biz and costs are costs. We don't want work for nothing in thelaw," he added.
"We! M'yes. Grandiloquent, very. So that's the new bike?" going overto examine it. "It is a ripper. D'you think there are any more Africanwild beasts loose at Hilversea, Delia? I could do with a new bikemyself."
Delia, listening, was simply incapable of reply lest she should revealthe lurid anger which was simmering beneath. Her long absence from homeand its incidents had gone far towards refining away the cynicalvulgarity of mind and speech which was the prevailing tone in her familycircle, from her father downwards. Not this alone, however, was at theback of her present indignation. A week had elapsed since heradventure, and the recollection of the acquaintanceship to which it hadled--matter of a few minutes as such had been--glowed fresh in her mind,as indeed it had done ever since; though not for worlds would she havelet drop word or hint to those about her that such was the case. Shewas by no means deficient in assurance and self-esteem, yet that day inthe presence of Wagram she had felt inferior. He had seemed to her as adifferent order of being, this man whose prompt courage and readiness,and the exercise thereof, had glided so naturally into the calmconsiderate kindness whose first thought had been to make good her loss.The refinement of his aspect and manner, the utter absence of even anypassing instinct to improve the situation, so different to those amongwhom she lived and moved, had completed the spell of magnetism he hadall unconsciously cast over her, and in that short space her mind hadundergone a complete transformation. Had the case been put before heras that of somebody else, Delia would unhesitatingly have pronounced itas one of falling over head and ears in love. Being her own it took onthe aspect of a conversion to a sublime and compelling creed, the deitywhereof was Wagram. And this was the man against whom her brother wassuggesting a low and vulgar scheme of plunder--legal plunder, it wastrue, but still plunder.
"Bob," she said at last. "If ever you propose such a thing again, fromthat moment you and I are no longer on speaking terms. I never heard amore unutterably caddish suggestion, and I've heard more than one as youknow," she added witheringly.
"Don't see it at all. Damage to person pursuing lawful way along apublic road--dangerous animal--property of `coiny' swells. Coiny swellsable to pay. Make 'em. What's the law for, I'd like to know?"
"To swindle and fleece respectable people. To fatten a pack ofbloodsucking thieves," answered Delia, with trembling lips and flashingeyes. "In this instance I'd rather hang myself than have anything to dowith it. Law, indeed!"
"Would you?" growled Bob. "Well, then, you won't get any choice,because the old man'll take it up, and then you'll have to come forward.And he'll collar the damages instead of you."
"He'll get none. I'll refuse to appear."
"Ha--ha. You'll have to. You'll be subpoenaed."
"See here, my sucking Blackstone," struck in Clytie, answering for hersister. "You remind one of the old chestnut about the judge who wasnicknamed Necessity, because he knew no law. You haven't even begun toknow any. Delia's of full age, and therefore no one could sue but her.The old man's counted out."
"You seemed to know more than enough that time you were undercross-examination," jeered the exasperated Bob.
"Yes, I didn't do badly," acquiesced Clytie, her serenity quiteunruffled. "But you know, Bob, you're an awful juggins--yes, an out andout juggins."
"I suppose so. May I ask why?"
"Certainly. Here you are putting Delia up to a scheme which is likebeing content with one silver spoon when you could collar the wholeswag." (The speaker was in course of typing a detective story.) "Now--d'you see?"
"Hanged if I do," snorted Bob. "There's nothing in it either. TheseWagrams are rolling in coin, but you mustn't pitch your claim too high.There's such a thing as `excessive' damages, appeal, and so forth.How's that, old female Solomon? You see I do know a little about thingsafter all."
"Not anything--not anything," came the reply, sweetly smiling. "Who'stalking about damages? That's not the plum at all."
"What is, then?"
"Capture the man. See? It's quite simple. Capture the man. Yes?Does that make your chin rap the toes of your boots?"
For Bob was standing open-mouthed. The cool audacity of the scheme hadstruck him dazed, breathless.
"Fudge!" he snorted. "It can't be done."
"Why not?"
"Why not? Because these Wagrams are tip-top swells--regular highflyers. I don't mean only that they've got pots of money, and justabout everything else. But, hang it all, look at them, look at us! Nofear. That cock won't fight, I tell you--no, not for half-an-hour."
"Not, eh? Bob, as I said before, you're a juggins; a juggins of thefirst water," retorted Clytie, sweetly. "A man is always--a man. Nomatter how tip-top, and so forth, he may be, there's no getting awayfrom that."
"Bosh! You've been reading too many of these high-falutin' novels theygive you to type. That sort of thing doesn't happen in real life, Itell you."
"Your knowledge and experience of real life being exhaustive," was theunruffled reply. "Let me tell you that sort of thing does happen inreal life, happens every day. It only wants working."
"Does it? I say, Clytie, why don't you take on the job yourself, asDelia doesn't seem over sweet on it?" said Bob, with a guffaw. "Thatheavenly expression of yours ought to carry all before it. It onlywants working. Ha--ha!"
"I'm scratched for that running," she answered serenely. "It's not fornothing all the surrounding whe
lps--of your kidney, Bob, and others--have labelled me `Damages.' But Delia--well she's, so to say, fresh onthe scene, and then, the adventure business gives her a first-rate sendoff. I think this job might be worked. Now, Delia, let's have youropinion on it for a change. I'm tired of Bob's."
"My opinion is that never in my life have I wasted half-an-hourlistening to such perfectly unutterable bosh as you two have beentalking--no, never," was the reply, short and emphatic; "and I don'twant to hear any more of it."
Clytie pursed up her very pretty lips and whistled meditatively. Thewhile she eyed her sister narrowly and read her like a book. As amatter of fact the latter had not been so indifferent to theirconversation as she would have had them believe. Listening, her hearthad thrilled to a strange, wild venture of a hope, only to drop it, adead weight, as she thought of her relatives. Had they but met in a newcountry far away from all such associations--well, who knew. To do herjustice, it was of the man she thought, the man entirely, and apart fromhis circumstances and surroundings; indeed, she almost hated these, asconstituting an insurmountable barrier.
"As for saying `look at them and look at us,'" pursued Clytie, "why,from all accounts, Mrs Wagram Wagram Number One was no very greatshakes."
"All the more reason why the said W.W. isn't going to be such a fool asto repeat the experiment," said Bob. "By the way, didn't she shootherself in mistake for him, or something?"
"No; took too much morphia by mistake, and died. It was the only goodthing she ever did for him, for she used to lead him the very devil of alife. She was a holy terror, from all accounts."
"And so you think he'll be such an ass as to risk it again, do you?"
"Certainly, my dear Bob. As I said before, a man is always--a man--otherwise an ass. The thing stares you in the face every day."
"P'raps it does. Well, chip in, Delia. Chip in for all you know how.We'll help you for all we do. By George, though, you'll have to beginby turning Papist!"
"Hilversea Court's worth turning anything for," murmured Clytie.
"Oh, and there's the ready-made step-son," went on the odious Bob."We're forgetting him. How old is the young 'un, Clytie? About twelve,isn't he?"
The query ended _staccato_. The ways of Siege House were strange andsummary, wherefore Delia, exasperated beyond endurance, had picked up aheavy rubber golosh, one of a pair that stood in the hall, and hadlaunched it full and straight at the head of the offending youth, whobarely escaped by a prompt dive. In the midst of which sounded a ringof the front gate bell.
"Now, who the very deuce can that be?" remarked Clytie.
"Maybe the old man's come in `fresh,' and can't fit his key," jeeredBob.
"'Tisn't him. He wouldn't ring, he'd batter--especially if he's`full,'" rejoined Clytie, whose knowledge of the paternal habits wasexhaustive. "One of us'll have to go to the door. Emily's out. Wait;let's make sure first who it is."
She passed into a room whose windows afforded a view of the front gate,only to reappear immediately in a state of suppressed excitement, a veryunusual thing for her.
"`Talk of the devil,'" she quoted. "Why, it's him."
"Who? The devil?" said Bob.
"No, you ass; Wagram Wagram himself! Now, Delia, you and I'll worry outthis tangle. Go in there," pushing her through a door. "And you, Bob,make yourself scarce. You're not to appear, see?"
"Why not? Where do I come in?"
"Nowhere. We don't want you at all. You'd give away the whole show.Come, git!"
Grumbling, Bob "got." He could not afford to run direct contrary to hissisters' wishes when decidedly expressed; he was too much dependent ontheir good offices in more ways than one. In abolishing him on thisoccasion Clytie's judgment was sound. The descendants male of theex-army vet were a great deal less presentable than the descendantsfemale--and this she knew.
The Red Derelict Page 4
