‘Very queer affair,’ said Devereux, shaking his head. ‘Oh monstrous, Fanshawe! I did hear that there’s some doubt of the masked man being a highwayman. What do you say to a rival, hey?’ He looked very knowing, and gave a prim smile. ‘Oh, quite shocking, my dear Fanshawe.’
Sir Anthony took snuff with a meditative air. ‘Who says they were not highwaymen?’ he asked.
‘’Pon my soul, I cannot quite recollect where I heard it first,’ said Mr Devereux. ‘It might have been from Kestrel that I had it.’
‘As to that,’ Mr Belfort interposed, ‘I’ve seen Peter Merriot to-day, and he says Miss Grayson swore they were highwaymen. Her pearls were taken, y’know.’
‘All the same, Bel, you must remember the duel! You must remember that. I never heard of a common robber offering to fight.’
Mr Belfort looked portentous. ‘Now I’ve a notion of my own as to it,’ he confided. ‘What do you say to its being one of these escaped Jacobites, taken to the High Toby?’
Mr Devereux seemed greatly struck by this. ‘Ay, there might well be something in that, Bel. That’s an idea, you know. ’Pon my soul, that’s a devilish clever notion! What do you say to it, Tony?’
Sir Anthony would not volunteer an opinion. There might or there might not be some truth in it. He strolled away in a few minutes, and was very soon on his way to Arlington Street. Sir Anthony had a notion in his own head, but it was not for Mr Belfort’s delectation.
The lackey who admitted him into the house believed that my lady had gone out. Sir Anthony asked for Mr Merriot, and was conducted to the smaller withdrawing room.
Miss Merriot was seated in the window, supporting her fair head on one delicate hand. An enchanting profile was presented to the room. There was the straight nose, the beautifully curved lips, and the drooping eyelid. The light curls were unpowdered, and caught up carelessly in a riband of Robin’s favourite blue; there was a locket round the white throat, and a fan held in one hand. A gown of blue silk billowed about the lovely lady; the sleeves ended at the elbow in a fall of heavy lace. She did not look as though she could kill a man in a duel.
Mr Merriot stood in a truly masculine attitude, with a foot on the window seat, and an elbow resting on that bent knee. It seemed he had been riding, as was his wont each morning, for he wore shining top-boots, and buff small-clothes. A coat of claret-coloured cloth set off his trim figure; his hand played negligently with the lash of his long whip.
Sir Anthony, pausing in the doorway, had a moment’s opportunity to admire a pretty picture. Then Robin looked round, and pulled a face. ‘Lord, Prue! The mountain.’
Prudence turned, and brought her foot down to the floor. ‘Give you good-day, sir,’ she said.
Robin became impish. ‘Faith, the world’s full of curiosity!’ he remarked. ‘Even the phlegmatic mammoth must needs come to visit us to-day.’
Prudence held up a finger. ‘Treat the gentleman with respect, child. I perceive he frowns on you.’
Robin sighed. ‘Alack, I could never succeed in captivating the mammoth,’ he mourned. ‘I doubt I’m too flighty for a sober man’s taste.’
Sir Anthony put down his hat, and smiled placidly. ‘Quite right, Robin.’ He looked keenly under heavy eyelids. ‘So you chanced to come upon Letty in this fresh trouble last night?’
‘A most fortunate occurrence,’ nodded Robin. ‘We were on our way back from Barnet.’
‘Were you so?’ Sir Anthony was all polite interest. ‘Fortunate, indeed!’ He looked across the room at Prudence, tranquilly regarding him. ‘Do you credit me with any wits or bone?’ he asked.
Prudence smiled. ‘Now how am I to answer that?’
‘I beg you won’t flatter me,’ said Sir Anthony sardonically.
‘Impossible!’ murmured Robin. ‘Prue, we distress the large gentleman.’
‘You do. You may say that you annoy me.’ Sir Anthony turned to face him. ‘You drag your sister from scrape to scrape.’
Robin bowed. ‘And out of them, sir. Do me that much justice.’
‘Why, what’s this?’ Prudence came to lay a hand on Sir Anthony’s arm. ‘You don’t know me, Tony, if you think I am dragged anywhere.’
He looked down at her with no smile in his eyes. ‘Ay, I’ll believe you went on that mad errand of your own free will.’
Robin’s brows went up; the laugh died on his lips. The gentleman was seriously annoyed, it seemed. Prudence met the hard look squarely. ‘You’re angry with me, Tony? Why?’
‘You can’t guess? It did not occur to you that I might wish to be told of this escapade?’
‘Yes, it occurred to me. But I have told you, Tony, that I do not desire to see you tread our maze.’
‘I’ve the right, I think, to choose for myself. You must still exclude me?’
‘You said that you would hold back from us,’ she said.
‘You mistake, my dear. I said that I would wait to claim you. No more. Mr and Miss Merriot desire no interference or aid in their schemes. Accept my thanks for the compliment.’
‘Tare an’ ’ouns, I believe you’re disappointed you’d no share in it!’ Robin exclaimed.
‘Well, why not?’ said Sir Anthony coolly.
‘My dear sir, you’re not an adventurer. But egad, if I’d guessed this I’d have taken you along. Oh, but conceive Sir Anthony Fanshawe masked upon the high road!’
The stern look abated somewhat. ‘My good boy, must you always harp upon my respectability? I confess I’m hurt. I was always accounted a useful man in a fight.’ He took Prudence’s hand. ‘I wish I could make you understand that I desire nothing better than to walk the maze at your side. You can’t credit it?’
‘Yes, sir, but can you not understand that I would do my uttermost to keep you free of the dangers that surround us? You shall not be angry with me for that.’
‘Give me your word that this shall be the last scrape you enter into without my knowledge.’
There was a serious look for this. Robin spoke from the window. ‘He has the right, I believe, Prue. If he aspires to wed you he must needs share your fortunes.’
‘That,’ said Sir Anthony, ‘is the only sensible thing I have heard you say so far, young man. Come, Prue!’
‘If I must, sir,’ she said reluctantly. But –’ she paused. ‘Oh, it’s a man’s reasoning, and I must still play the man. I promise, Tony.’
‘The storm blows over,’ said Robin. ‘So you guessed the whole affair, O mountain?’
‘It was not very difficult,’ Sir Anthony pointed out.
‘Egad, I hope there are no more of that opinion!’
‘You have to remember that I know something of you. But I’m in the dark. What possessed Letty to elope a second time? I could have sworn she had not a jot of tenderness left for Markham.’
Robin frowned. ‘There’s more to it than that,’ he said.
It was at this moment that my Lord Barham swept into the room. My lord waved a hand in recognition of Sir Anthony, but swooped upon his son. ‘My Robin!’ he cried. ‘Superb! A time-thrust worthy of myself ! I have the whole from John. I knew I might rely on you!’
Sir Anthony cast up his eyes, and retired to the fireplace. ‘I might have known!’ he said. ‘Of course I should have known!’
My lord’s eagle eye was upon him. ‘I assume this gentleman to be in your confidence, my children. I admit him into mine. Sir Anthony, you behold in my son a master-swordsman. I permit myself to take pride in him. A time-thrust – the most dangerous, difficult thrust of all! I kiss your hands, my Robin! I remember that I taught you that pass.’
‘The honours would appear to be divided,’ murmured Sir Anthony, unable to repress a twinkle. ‘Sir, I am wholly at a loss. I wish some one would enlighten me. Do I understand that you planned this affair, my lord?’
My lord was surprised. ‘But can you ask?’ he said.
‘I suppose there is not the need. But I should like to know how you had wind of the elopement.’
My lord gazed at him. ‘Wind of it? I planned it!’ he said magnificently.
The smile died on Sir Anthony’s lips; he stopped twirling his quizzing-glass. He opened his mouth to speak, and shut it again, as though he could find no words.
‘You amaze the large gentleman, sir,’ said Robin dryly. ‘I am not altogether surprised.’
Sir Anthony swung round. ‘Were you in this?’ he asked, and there was that in his voice which made Prudence grimace oddly. ‘Am I to believe you were party to such a scheme?’
‘Acquit me, kind sir. My indignation almost equalled yours.’
Sir Anthony looked at him a moment, and appeared to be satisfied. He turned back to my lord, who was still dwelling fondly on his son’s prowess. ‘You must explain a little further, sir, if you please. I suppose you had some reason for this.’
The compelling gaze rested on him. ‘Certainly!’ said my lord. ‘Be very sure of it. I regard the whole affair as one of my chefs d’æuvres.’
‘Do you indeed?’ Sir Anthony was again sardonic. ‘Make it plain to me, sir. I beg of you! I am unable to appreciate it at present.’
Prudence interposed. ‘You had best be frank with Tony, sir. He knows us for escaped Jacobites.’
My lord appeared to censure the term. ‘My child, I live in the present, not in the past. Not even I could save the Prince’s affairs from being bungled: I reject his whole cause. It was a venture not worthy of me. Do not call me a Jacobite.’
‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ Prudence bowed. ‘Say then only that Sir Anthony knows the truth concerning us.’
‘I deplore the indiscretion,’ said my lord. He became reproachful. ‘Never divulge more than is necessary, my Prudence. Surely I taught you that lesson many years ago!’
‘To be frank, sir, the gentleman had already guessed it.’
Robin arose from his seat by the window. ‘No matter. The whole scheme was complicated beyond your imagination, Sir Anthony.’
‘Subtle,’ amended his lordship.
‘Tortuous, sir. You’re to know, Fanshawe, that my father was unwise enough to set his name to a certain treasonable letter.’
‘An indiscretion,’ said my lord. ‘I admit it. But it was not my own name, Robin. Do not forget that.’
Sir Anthony was surprised. ‘I had not thought that of you, my lord. It seems unlike you.’
My lord was at once benevolent. ‘You are blessed with a good understanding, my dear sir. I have admitted an indiscretion. One is sometimes carried away by one’s enthusiasms. You see that even I can make mistakes. A lesson may be learned from that.’
‘Give me leave, sir,’ interrupted Robin. ‘This letter, Sir Anthony, came into the hands of the late Mr Markham, who thought to sell it to my father at a fabulous price. You take me?’
Sir Anthony nodded. ‘There’s a ray of daylight,’ he said.
‘There shall be more. My father held in his possession a letter writ by Sir Humphrey Grayson, containing half-promises to help the Prince’s cause. It does not surprise you?’
‘Only that your father should have the letter. The rest I knew.’
‘Then there is nothing in the world to surprise you. When you know my father better you will know that he would of course hold the letter.’
‘Don’t cry God forfend, sir!’ Prudence said on a chuckle. ‘Spare our filial feelings!’
My lord held up his hand. ‘My daughter, Sir Anthony must surely realise that it is a privilege to know me.’
Sir Anthony’s mouth twitched at the corners. ‘I wonder if Markham thought so?’ he said. ‘Proceed, Robin. I begin to understand.’
‘My father, sir, exchanged letters, and that is all there is to it. He assures me that there were at least a dozen other ways of getting Markham’s paper from him, but this one appeared to him to be the neatest.’
‘Of course,’ said his lordship. ‘It needs no explanation. I was able thus to rid myself for ever of my Munich friend, and to present my son to Miss Grayson in the role of a hero. I surpassed myself.’ He became aware of Sir Anthony’s wondering gaze upon him, and waved his handkerchief gracefully. ‘You are spell-bound. I expected it. You can never before have seen my like.’
‘Never, upon my honour!’ said Sir Anthony emphatically.
‘And you never will again, my son,’ said his lordship with a touch of vicarious regret.
‘Thank God fasting,’ advised Robin.
Sir Anthony laughed suddenly. ‘No, it is a privilege,’ he said. ‘I would not forgo your acquaintance, sir, for the worlds. My horizon broadens every hour.’
My lord smiled graciously. ‘That was inevitable,’ he said. ‘It could not be otherwise.’
Sir Anthony walked to the window and back again, struggling with varied emotions. At last he turned, and made a gesture of despair. ‘Sir, you demoralize me. Until the privilege of knowing you was conferred upon me I protest I led a sober life, and my opinions were all respectable. I find myself walking now in your train, sir, caught up in I know not what lawless schemes, and I perceive with horror that the day approaches when I shall be lost to all sense of propriety and order.’
My lord acknowledged a compliment. ‘I had once some acquaintance with a Jesuit father,’ he said reminiscently. ‘That was in the days of my youth. I profited by it. Yes, I learned some few things.’
‘More than the Jesuit father taught you, I’ll lay my life,’ said Robin.
‘Yes,’ admitted his lordship. ‘But then, my son, his brain had its limits.’
‘Have you limitations, my lord?’ asked Sir Anthony.
My lord looked at him seriously. ‘I do not know,’ he said, with a revealing simplicity. ‘I have never yet discovered them.’
Came my Lady Lowestoft into the room in a fine bustle. Her sharp eyes darted from one guest to the other. ‘Tiens! Such a party!’ She untied the strings of her mantle, and cast it from her. ‘Robert, I know very well you have done some wickedness! Your children of a certainty did not visit friends at Barnet last night.’ She pointed an accusing finger. ‘It is my belief Robin killed the Markham – by your orders, Robert! It is a scandal! a madness! I gasp at it!’
‘A time-thrust,’ nodded my lord. ‘Superb!’
‘What’s that? What is it, a time-thrust?’ cried my lady.
‘You would not understand, my dear Thérèse. It is to lunge as your opponent lunges – you may judge how ticklish! – to parry his blade as you come through, and to pass on with not the smallest check to – the heart, was it not, my son?’
‘Then it is true!’ said my lady. She seemed to have no interest in the brilliance of Robin’s sword-play, unlike Sir. Anthony, who was looking at Robin with an appraising, marvelling eye. ‘Good God, Robert, what shall come of this?’ She pounced on Sir Anthony. ‘And you! Do not tell me you had a hand in this too!’
‘Alack, ma’am, no.’
My lady put her hands to her temples. ‘The head turns on my shoulders. Of a certainty we are all mad!’ She sat down weakly. ‘You want to end at Tyburn, all three?’ she demanded.
‘I’m inclined to think the honour of being executed on Tower Hill must be conferred upon the old gentleman at least,’ said Prudence. ‘Tyburn might do for us, I suppose.’
‘You are ridiculous, Thérèse.’ My lord was severe. ‘What have the Merriots to do with duels and masked men?’
‘I may be ridiculous,’ said my lady, ‘but this I say! the sooner you end this masquerade the better now. Mark me well! We will retire to Richmond, my children. Then if the wind of suspicion should blow your way – eh, but Robert shall send word, and you vanish!’
‘I will go further th
an that,’ interposed Sir Anthony. ‘I’ve to visit my sister, Lady Enderby, in Hampshire next week. I desire to take Mr Merriot along with me.’
Prudence shook her head. My lord rose, and picked up his hat. ‘Do not meddle in my plans,’ he advised them all. ‘Go to Richmond if you will, but await there my orders. It is not possible that suspicion should fall upon my son.’
He was right thus far, but he had reckoned without Miss Grayson. Prudence, summoned to make a deposition, could tell the gentlemen of the Law very little. Her evidence was admirably given; nothing could exceed the tranquillity of her bearing, nor the frankness of her replies. She was complimented on her share of the night’s work, disclaimed gracefully, and departed.
Miss Grayson’s evidence was of another colour. She had a worried father in support, but her self-possession was, under the circumstances, almost as creditable as Mr Merriot’s. She listened acutely to the conflicting stories of the coachman and the postilion, and adapted her own as best she might to theirs. The tale as told by these lackeys would perhaps have surprised Robin and John. The postilion was inclined to grant Robin a height he lacked; the coachman, more cautious on this point, waxed impassioned on the subject of the unparalleled ferocity displayed by both men. The third man was the most cautious of all. He said that one man had fired at him before he could raise his blunderbuss, but although he had been forced to surrender it he had not thought the masked men ferocious. Pressed further, he deposed that the smaller man had told the lady to keep Mr Markham covered with his own pistol, which she had done.
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