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Mr. Marx's Secret

Page 36

by E. Phillips Oppenheim


  CHAPTER XXXV. AN INVITATION.

  We drove straight into the courtyard, having no groom with us and enteredthe house from the back. As we passed the little room on the ground floorgiven up for our sole use as a repository for cricket-nets,fishing-tackle, guns, spare harness, and such like appliances, I openedthe door, intending to hang my whip up. To my surprise de Cartienne wasthere in an old coat, with his sleeves turned up, cleaning a gun. Helooked up and greeted us as we entered.

  "What a time you men have been! What have you been up to in LittleDrayton?"

  "Oh, we had lunch with your friend Fothergill and shacked about," Cecilanswered. "Tell you what, Len, he's a very decent fellow."

  De Cartienne was examining the lock of his gun with great attention, andin the dusk I could not catch his expression.

  "Oh, Fothergill's all right!" he answered. "You didn't find him veryhungry for his winnings, did you?"

  "I should think not," Cecil replied enthusiastically. "Why, I believe hewas actually annoyed with himself for having won at all. I've given himmy I O U's."

  "He'll most likely tear them up," de Cartienne remarked. "He's beastlyrich and he can't want the money."

  "Where did you drop across him, Len?" asked Cecil, seating himself upon achest and lighting a cigarette.

  "He's a friend of my governor's. I've known him ever since I was a kid,"de Cartienne answered slowly. "There, I think that'll do!" criticallylooking at the gleaming muzzle which he held in his hand.

  "Why this sudden fit of industry?" inquired Cecil, yawning. "Going to doany shooting?"

  De Cartienne nodded and began deliberately pulling the gun to pieces.

  "Yes; I've had a long day indoors to-day and I mean to make up for it bypotting some wild duck to-morrow. Hilliers told me that he'd heard ofsome very fair sport round by Rushey Ponds last week. You'd better comewith me."

  "Thanks, I'll see," Cecil answered. "I'm not very keen on wild duckpotting."

  "Haven't you been out all day, then, de Cartienne?" I asked--"not even toDrayton?"

  "Not outside the house," he answered. "Do I look like it?"

  He pointed to his slippered feet, his old clothes, and held up his hands,black with oil and grease, I took in the details of his appearance,feeling a little bewildered. It seemed barely possible that he could havebeen in Little Drayton an hour ago.

  The dressing-bell rang out and we hurried off to our rooms, for Dr.Randall, easy-going enough in some things, was strictness itself withregard to our punctuality at dinner-time. But no sooner had I seen deCartienne safely in his room than I softly made my way downstairs againand crossed the yard to the stables.

  It was as I had expected. The stall in which de Cartienne kept his marewas carefully closed, but through the chinks I could see that a lamp wasburning inside.

  I tried the door softly, but it was locked. Then I knocked. There was noanswer. Turning away, I entered the next stall and, mounting astep-ladder, looked over the partition.

  I saw very much what I had expected to see--de Cartienne's thoroughbredmare splashed all over with mud and still trembling with nervous fatigue,and by her side Dick, the stable-boy, holding a wet sponge in his handand looking up at me with a scared, disconsolate expression.

  "Oh, it be you, be it, Muster Morton?" he exclaimed rather sullenly.

  I looked down at Diana.

  "How came she in that exhausted condition?" I asked. "And why have youlocked the door?"

  Dick hesitated, and I tossed him a half-crown.

  "The truth now, Dick," I said. "And I won't let Mr. de Cartienne knowthat I've seen her."

  He brightened up at once and pocketed the half-crown.

  "That's kind o' yer, sir!" he exclaimed, evidently much relieved. "All Iknow, sir, is that Muster de Cartienne he come in riding like mad alongthe Drayton Road 'bout 'arf an hour ago, and he says to me, 'Dick, takeDiana, lock her up in the stable and don't let no one know as she's beenout. Just attend to her yourself and rub her down carefully, for I'vebeen obliged to ride fast.' And with that he guv me summut and hoff hewent into the 'ouse."

  "Thank you, Dick," I said, getting down from the ladder, "that's all Iwanted to know." And I crossed the yard to the house again and hurriedupstairs to change my things.

  We had two deliveries of letters at Borden Tower, and just as we wereleaving the dinner-table that evening the late post arrived. There was aletter for me, a somewhat unusual occurrence, and a single glance at thearms and the bold, characteristic handwriting set me longing to open it,for it was from Mr. Ravenor. As soon as the cloth was cleared I did so.

  "My dear Philip," it commenced, "I am thinking of travelling for several years, perhaps for longer, and should like to see you before I go. Come and stay here for a few days. I am writing Dr. Randall and also Cecil, who will accompany you. You will leave Borden Tower to-morrow and I will send to Mellborough to meet the 5.18. Bring some clothes, as there will be some people stopping here.--Yours,

  "Bernard Ravenor."

  I looked up from the letter with a great sense of relief and met Cecil'sdelighted gaze.

  "Hurrah, old chap!" he exclaimed, only half under his breath. "Won't wehave a rare old time?"

  "Cave!" I whispered, for the doctor was looking our way.

  "More vacation," he remarked, in a grumbling tone, which was made up for,however, by a good-natured smile. "Upon my word, I don't know how Mr.Ravenor imagines you're ever going to learn anything! However, I supposeyou must go."

  De Cartienne looked up inquiringly.

  "We're going to stay at Ravenor Castle for a week," Cecil explained."We're off to-morrow."

  I leaned forward and watched de Cartienne's face intently. There was anexpression in it which I could not analyse. It might have been pleasure,or apprehension, or indifference. Though I watched him narrowly, I couldnot make up my mind whether he was more dismayed or gratified at theprospect of our visit.

 

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