by Headon Hill
CHAPTER VI--_The General is Curious_
On the following afternoon at tea-time four ladies were seated in thepleasant drawing-room of 140 Grosvenor Gardens, the residence of GeneralSadgrove, late of the Indian Staff Corps. Mrs. Sadgrove, a fair, plump,elderly dame, needs no special description, and two of the othertea-drinkers--Mrs. Senator Sherman, as she preferred to be called, andher daughter Leonie--we have met before.
The fourth occupant of the room--a girl dressed in deep mourning--wasSybil Hanbury, who had come to discuss her engagement to Alec Forsythwith her motherly old friend, Alec's aunt by marriage, Mrs. Sadgrove.Owing to the recent deaths in her family the engagement was not to bepublicly announced at present; but Sybil had no secrets from theSadgroves, who had known her from a baby, long before she had been takenup, on the death of her parents, by her grandfather, the late Duke ofBeaumanoir.
Miss Hanbury owed her attractiveness to her essentially English type,not of beauty--she would have disdained to lay claim to that--but offresh, healthy coloring, a suspicion of tomboyishness, and a lithe,supple figure that stood her in good stead in the hunting and hockeyfields. A trifle slangy on occasion, she was a good hater and a staunchfriend, with a temper--as she had warned Alec already--that would need alot of humoring if they were not to have "ructions."
"I've got the makings of a termagant, my dear boy, but it will be allright if you rule me with a velvet glove," she had remarked within fiveminutes of their first kiss.
In fact, Miss Sybil Hanbury was a bit of a hoyden; but a very capablelittle hoyden for all that, and absolutely fearless.
The two girls had naturally paired off together, and the subject oftheir talk was, equally naturally, the new Duke--Alec's friend, Sybil'scousin, and Leonie's chance acquaintance on the _St. Paul_.
_"A countrywoman of yours. I wonder if you know her?"_]
Sybil, after listening to Leonie's rather halting description of thefellow passenger whom she had known as "Mr. Hanbury," owned frankly thatshe had never heard any good of her cousin, but she hastened to add:
"He's given my prejudice a nasty knock, though, in behaving so well tomy young man. Gave him a billet as private sec. that enabled Alecto--you know. A man can't be much of a wrong 'un who'll stick to oldpals when they have no claim on him."
Leonie tried not to show surprise at the vernacular.
"He seemed very kind and considerate. I don't think he can ever havedone anything dishonorable," she replied.
"Nobody ever accused him of that," Sybil assented. "It was only that hewas extravagant, and that my grandfather got tired of paying his debts.You see, he wasn't the next heir, and--well, perhaps they were a littlehard on him. I'm quite prepared to like him now."
The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a servant, whoannounced:
"Mrs. Talmage Eglinton."
"A fellow countrywoman of yours. I wonder if you know her?" Sybilwhispered, as a radiant vision in pale pink under a large "picture" hatsailed in, and was greeted with somewhat frigid politeness by Mrs.Sadgrove.
"No; I am not acquainted with either the name or the lady," Leoniereplied, struck with a strange antipathy to the bold eyes that seemed tobe mastering every detail in the room, herself included. Indeed, Mrs.Talmage Eglinton stared so markedly both at Leonie and her mother thatMrs. Sadgrove thought they must have met, and promptly introduced themas American friends staying in the house. The introduction was not asuccess, for the Shermans knew everyone worth knowing in Americansociety, and the fact that they had never so much as heard of Mrs.Talmage Eglinton argued her outside the pale.
The elegant vision received her snubbing with cool unconcern, and aftera few generalities turned again to her hostess and engaged in thetrifling chatter of a "duty" call, making one or two unsuccessfulattempts to include Sybil, to whom she had not been introduced, in theconversation.
"That woman is a brute," Sybil said to Leonie under her breath. "I'lltell you about her when she's gone."
The door opened, and there entered an iron-gray man of sixty, whosecoming might almost have been the cause of expediting the departure ofMrs. Talmage Eglinton, so quickly did she rise and begin her good-byes.
"No, really I can't stay, dear Mrs. Sadgrove, even to have the pleasureof a chat with the General," she prattled. "I have half a dozen othercalls to pay, and you have beguiled me into staying too long already.Good-bye. Good-bye, General. Pray don't trouble to come down." And witha half-impudent bow of exaggerated respect to the Shermans, she sweptout, with the master of the house in attendance.
General Sadgrove returned at once to the drawing-room after escortingthe visitor to her carriage. He was a man who bore his years easily;singularly slow and scant of speech, but alert of eye and almost jauntyin the erectness of his bearing. He had gained his C.B. for prominentservices in the suppression of Thuggee and Dacoity, and his name isstill held in wholesome dread by the criminals of India whose method isviolence. It had once been said of him by a high official: "Jem Sadgrovedoesn't have to worry about _finding_ clues. He makes them for himself,and they always yield a true scent. He's got the nose of a fox-terrier,and the patience and speed of a greyhound."
But that was long ago, and it might be supposed that in such pleasantduties of retirement as the ushering out of dainty visitors from hiswife's tea-table his faculties had become blunted. Nor in thelaw-abiding precincts of Belgravia could there be scope for the old-timeenergy. Yet Mrs. Sadgrove, who knew the signs and portents of herhusband's face, looked twice at him with just a shade of anxiety as sheasked whether he would take some tea.
"Thanks," he said, and taking his cup he went and stood on the rugbefore the empty hearth. He stirred his tea slowly, with his eyeswandering from one to the other of the four women in the room.
"You good people seem singularly calm, considering that you must justhave been listening to a very exciting story," he remarked.
"Indeed, no," replied Sybil, taking upon herself to answer. "The lady towhom you have just been doing the polite bored us intensely. Leoniesays, for all the dash she's cutting in London, she's an _incognita_ sofar as America is concerned."
The General continued to stir his tea impassively.
"Did she not inform you in the course of her small talk," he inquiredpresently, "that on her way here her carriage had knocked a man down andgone near to killing him?"
The question evoked a chorus of interested negatives.
"Neither did she say anything to me about it," said the General gravely.
"Then how did you become aware of the accident?" Mrs. Sadgrove venturedto ask.
"Saw it," returned the General. "It happened in Buckingham Palace Road.I was passing at the time, on my way home from the club. Her coachmandrove right over the fellow as he was crossing the roadway at thecorner. He was knocked down, and it was the merest shave that he wasn'ttrampled by the horses and crushed by the wheels. As it was, he escapedwith a bit of a shaking and a dusty coat. At any rate, he got up andwalked into the nearest barber's--for a wash and brush-up, I suppose."
Further questioned, the General in his jerky way informed his fairaudience that he was sure that it was Mrs. Talmage Eglinton's jobbedlandau that had wrought the mischief, and that she herself was in it atthe time. It was the same vehicle which he had found at his own door onreaching home ten minutes ago, and to which he had just conducted her.
"Funny that she should be so secretive about it," said Mrs. Sadgrove,reflectively. "It's the sort of thing that most women, coming fresh fromthe scene, would have been full of--especially as it must have been thecoachman's fault, and not her own."
"Exactly," was the General's curt comment.
"She's a--a _creature_," Sybil Hanbury exclaimed, viciously. "Thankgoodness, I don't know her; but I've heard all about her from Alec. Thepoor boy can't abide her; she makes eyes at him so unblushingly."
"Then we can appreciate your sentiments about her," remarked the Generalwith the flicker of a smile. "How did we come to know this lady?" headded to his
wife.
Mrs. Sadgrove explained that she had been asked as a favor to call onMrs. Talmage Eglinton by a mutual acquaintance, a certain LadyRoseville, but had regretted it ever since. Their intercourse had,however, been of the slightest, being confined to the interchange of acouple of formal visits, and to an invitation by Mrs. Sadgrove to amusical "at home," at which Mrs. Talmage Eglinton had endeavored toembark on a flirtation with Alec Forsyth.
"She's a rich widow, I believe; and I don't think she would ever havebeen heard of if the Rosevilles hadn't taken her up," Mrs. Sadgroveconcluded.
The series of grunts with which the General received this informationhad hardly ceased when again the footman appeared in the doorway andannounced, with all due importance:
"His Grace the Duke of Beaumanoir."
The occupants of the drawing-room were all accustomed to the "usages ofpolite society," either in Britannic or Transatlantic form; but it wasimpossible for them to repress a flutter of excitement as the visitorentered, his original "cavalry swing" marred but not wholly obliteratedby his limp. Leonie tried hard not to blush, and failed. Mrs. Shermaninterlaced her fingers nervously. Sybil Hanbury stared hard at thecousin whose stately town house she was occupying, and who had waved amagic wand over her lover's prospects. Mrs. Sadgrove was the gracefuland interested hostess, and the General--well, the General was surprisedfor once into a start which was only invisible because nobody waslooking at him.
Beaumanoir's manner was perfectly easy and self-possessed, but there wasa harassed look in his eyes which did not entirely fade as he respondedto his welcome. But it was not that which had caused the General tostart.
_The Duke was the man whom he had seen knocked down by Mrs. TalmageEglinton's carriage, to the imminent peril of his life._
The "wash and brush-up" had been effectual as regards the ducalgarments, but they could not hide the black silk sling in which hecarried his left arm. It was General Sadgrove's way to allow events toshape themselves, and saying nothing of the scene he had witnessed as hewelcomed the distinguished visitor, he waited for the Duke to refer tohis mishap himself.
But no. The victim of the accident was apparently as much inclined toreticence as had been the fair cause of it. It was Mrs. Sherman whounconsciously provoked the mendacious statement which stimulated theGeneral's curiosity.
"I'm afraid that your Grace has hurt your hand," said the Senator'swife, pointing to a broad strip of diachylon plaster that ran from theDuke's wrist to the ball of his thumb.
"Yes, I--I grazed it rather badly against the wheel in getting out of acab," Beaumanoir replied with a momentary loss of his self-possession.The discomposure passed at once, and only the observer on the hearth-rugnoticed it. The same shrewd observer presently perceived that thevisitor was definitely leading the conversation to the subject of thearrival in England of Senator Sherman; and, more than that, that he waswaxing a shade more inquisitive than good-breeding allowed as to thenature of the senatorial journey.
"Ah! he's coming on political business, I think you told me?" the Dukeremarked in a half-tone of interrogation on Leonie saying that herfather, according to advices received that morning, was to sail in twodays' time on the _Campania_, and would be due at Liverpool early in thefollowing week.
"Well, it's political business in a way," Mrs. Sherman struck in. "Myhusband is coming over in charge of a large amount of Governmentsecurities, which are to be deposited at the Bank of England against ashipment of English gold to the United States."
"He's got the opening he wanted. Now, what on earth is he going to dowith it?" said the General to himself as he watched keenly.
"Rather a dangerous mission, I should say," was the Duke's comment onthe information imparted to him.
"Dangerous! How can that be?" Leonie exclaimed, wondering. "UnitedStates Treasury bonds are not explosive."
"No, but the world is full of sharps, Miss Sherman, and some of themmight fancy having a shy for such a haul," said Beaumanoir with a tracemore of earnestness than the occasion seemed to require. "If I had arelative starting on such an errand, I should be inclined to cable himto--ah--to look out for himself," he added in direct appeal to Mrs.Sherman.
But the good lady laughed the suggestion to scorn, alleging playfullythat "it would be as much as her place was worth" to tackle the Senatorthat way. It would be a hint that he wasn't able to take care of himselfor of his charge, and would be resented accordingly.
The Duke abandoned the subject, but the General noted the disappointmentin the tired eyes.
"His Grace knows something. Let's see--he was on his beam-ends when hewas unearthed in New York," the old hunter of Thugs and Dacoits mutteredunder his gray mustache.
Beaumanoir made no long stay after his ineffectual effort to sound awarning note. There had been no opportunity for individual talk; but insaying his adieus he had two words with Sybil, who had been observingher cousin quite as intently as, and a good deal more openly than, theGeneral.
"I'm going to look Alec up now, at his diggings in John Street," hesaid. "Probably I shall ask him to put me up to-night."
"It's a shame that you should have to do so," Sybil blurted in herboyish fashion. "You've been awfully good to us. I ought to have clearedout of Beaumanoir House at once, and I'll 'git' as soon as ever I canmake other arrangements."
"I beg you'll do nothing of the kind," Beaumanoir made genial answer."Alec is about the only friend I have, and--and I need a friend, CousinSybil. It has been a pleasure to serve him and you--if it can be calledserving you," he added with a thoughtful gravity that puzzled the girl.
She shook hands with a warmth that bespoke the death of old prejudices,and General Sadgrove, who had hardly exchanged two words with hisvisitor, accompanied him to the hall-door.
"Are you walking, Duke? Or shall I whistle a cab?" he asked.
Beaumanoir looked up the street and down the street, and gave a queerlittle shrug.
"It won't make any difference whether I walk or drive," he said."Good-bye, General."
Having gazed the limping figure out of sight, the General went back intothe house and made for his private den--a cozy apartment crammed withEastern spoils. There he leisurely selected a cigar and seated himselfin a big saddle-bag chair.
"There is something brewing," he growled gently. "I perceive a vibrationin the moral atmosphere which quite recalls old days. I wonder what itmeans?"
