Blind Policy Part 33

Then he loosed his hold of her gloved hand, dropping back and raising his hat as the carriage rolled on.

He stood and watched it for a few minutes till it had pa.s.sed out of sight, and then drawing himself up, feeling that a breach of invigorating life had run through his being, he turned to walk back across the path, and found himself nearly confronting the man who had occupied so much of his waking thoughts, and whose eyes now seemed to flash as they gazed fiercely in his.

"Well," said Chester to himself, as he set his teeth hard, "I am ready for the worst. Am I to learn the mystery of the big house now?" And he took a step forward to meet the man he felt to be the great enemy of both their lives.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

THE GAME IS UP.

To Chester's surprise James Clareborough's face hardened and grew stony as they approached, and the next moment he had pa.s.sed him without a word or the slightest sign of recognition, and when, stung by jealous solicitude for the woman he loved, Chester turned and followed, he saw his enemy take another direction to that in which Marion was being driven.

Then days pa.s.sed--then weeks; and in spite of constant watchfulness Chester could not get a glimpse of her who filled his thoughts. The reason was patent--the family had left town, and he had once more to track them out. But this was easy, and in a day or two he was down at the nearest spot where he could un.o.bserved obtain lodgings, ostensibly trout fishing the stream that meandered by The Towers, the Clareboroughs' Kentish estate.

Still he could not obtain a second interview. He knew, though, that which filled him with exultation and patience to wait--he was loved.

There were troubles at The Towers in the lower stratum, all connected with speculation; and, though money was worthless in these days in Chester's eyes, the speculation affected his fate.

It was in this wise:--

Roach looked puffy, and especially so beneath the eyes, where a couple of pendulous bags disfigured his important-looking countenance.

Unkind people would have said that the flushed aspect was due to drinking, but he was perfectly steady as he got out of a hansom cab, in company with Arthur, after a short run up to town, where they had arrived by a fast train that afternoon, and taking the two small, light portmanteaus which the driver handed down, each threw his overcoat across his arm, and they walked together round the corner into Highcombe Street, made for the Clareboroughs' town house, tried the area gate, which, as they expected, was locked, and went up the steps to the front door.

"How do you feel, Arthur?" whispered Roach.

"Right as the mail, old man. Now then, no gammon. You keep your p.e.c.k.e.r up, and do the talking, and I'll do the business. There's nothing to mind."

"Nothing to mind?" said Roach, as he raised his hand towards the servants' bell, but did not ring.

"Only the handcuffs if we don't do what we want and clear off."

Roach groaned.

"Don't be a fool, old man," whispered the footman. "As I told you, we must do it now. The game's up, and you know what Jemmy is. There'll be no mercy, so let's make our hay while the sun shines. Pull the bell."

With trembling hand Roach rang the servants' bell, and then drew a deep breath.

"That's right, old man, pull yourself together. Think it's going to be a lark, and after it a fortune for us both."

"Yes, I'm going to be firm now," growled Roach, hoa.r.s.ely. "It's our only chance, Orthur, so stand by me."

"Like an iron post, old man. That's the way, jolly's the style. Here she comes."

They caught a glimpse of the housekeeper at the side window, and directly after the door was open.

"Good-morning, ma'am," began the butler.

"Good-morning, Mrs Barron, ma'am," said Arthur.

She looked sternly from one to the other, without making way for them to enter.

"Why are you two men up in town?" she said harshly.

"Well, the fact is, ma'am, I had a little bit o' business to do about my savings in the sweet threes, and as the gentlemen were all in Paris, and the ladies were not expecting any company, I made so bold as to ask Mrs James Clareborough to spare me till to-morrow night and let Orthur come with me, for I don't like going through money matters without a witness."

"Oh," said the housekeeper, speaking with her lips very close together, but without drawing back. "Then why have you both come here? This is not a broker's."

"No, ma'am, of course not," said Arthur, with a little laugh.

"I was not speaking to you, sir," said the housekeeper, turning upon him suddenly. "Have the goodness to keep your place."

"Certainly, ma'am. Beg pardon, ma'am."

"Now, Mr Roach; what do you want here?"

"Want here, ma'am?" stammered the butler; "want here? Why, I can't go to my broker without my warrants."

The housekeeper's pale face looked more pinched than ever as she gazed searchingly at the other, who looked completely taken aback; and then she darted a sharp glance at Arthur, who evidently expected it and did not look, but busied himself in bringing a little bit of vanity well into sight, the said piece of vanity taking the shape of a couple of bronze fox-head cuff studs, which he drew beyond the sleeves of his coat.

"You can go down into your pantry and get what you require," said the housekeeper, coldly, and she made way for the butler to enter. Arthur was about to follow. "No," she said sharply, "you can wait."

"Wait--here, ma'am?"

"Yes," said the housekeeper, decisively, and she made as if to shut the door. "Or, no; you can sit down inside."

Arthur brightened up, and stepped in jauntily, the housekeeper closing the door.

"You need not take your portmanteau down with you, Roach."

"No, ma'am, of course not," said the butler, respectfully.

"Here, I'll mind that, Mr Roach, sir," said the footman, stepping forward to take the valise, after standing his own on end.

The butler was a few steps in the hall, the housekeeper between them, and a little on Arthur's right, as he took a step forward, taking his overcoat from his arm and shaking it out the while, as if about to double it afresh. Then, quick as thought, he stepped aside, threw it over the woman's head, and twisted it together. "Now, old man; her legs, sharp!"

Roach stood for a moment as if bewildered. Then at an oath from his companion, he stepped forward, threw his arms round the struggling woman's legs, lifted her up, and in spite of her smothered cries bore her right to the end of the pa.s.sage.

"Down with her; pantry," said the footman, sharply, and they carried her quickly down the bas.e.m.e.nt to the butler's pantry, where they laid her on the table.

"Fetch the trunks, old man," said Arthur, loudly. "I can manage.

Quiet, you old cat, or I'll choke you!"

He tightened the coat with a couple, of twists as he spoke, but the faint cry continued.

"Bah! let her squeak; she might howl for a month, and no one could hear."