Charles Rex Part 50

"Well, you can't ask for anything better," maintained Saltash. "He's got his job, and he's not what you could call a family man. He's not a waster either, so you needn't put on any d.a.m.ned airs, _mon vieux_."

"I didn't!" said Bunny hotly.

Saltash laughed, and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Look here! I'm talking for the good of your soul. Don't take any more advice--certainly not Sheila Melrose's! You go straight ahead and marry her! You've got money, I know, but I hope you won't chuck your job on that account. Stick to it, and you shall have the Dower House to live in while I yet c.u.mber the ground, and Burchester Castle as soon as I'm under it!"

"What?" said Bunny. He turned almost fiercely. "Charlie! Stop it! You're talking rot. You always do. I don't want your beastly castle. You've got to marry and get an heir of your own. I'm d.a.m.ned if I'm going to be adopted by you!"

Saltash was laughing carelessly, mockingly, yet there was about him at the moment a certain royal self-a.s.surance that made itself felt. "You'll do as you're told, _mon ami_. And you'll take what the G.o.ds send without any cavilling. As for me, I go my own way. I shall never marry. I shall never have an heir of my own blood. Burchester means more to you than it does to me. Therefore Burchester will pa.s.s to you at my death. Think you and Toby will be happy here?"

"d.a.m.n it!" said Bunny, still fiercely disconcerted. "You talk as if you were going to die to-morrow."

"Oh, probably not," said Saltash airily. "But I doubt if I live to a rakish old age. I'm a man that likes taking chances, and those who dice with the high G.o.ds are bound to throw a blank some day." For a moment the mockery died down in his eyes, and he looked more nearly serious than Bunny had ever seen him. He patted the shoulder under his hand. "Life is rather a rotten old show when you've tried everything and come to the end," he said. "And you know for a d.a.m.n' certainty that you'll never taste any good fruit again. But you will never know what that feels like, _mon ami_. You've had the sense to play a straight game, and you'll find it pays in the long run. Jake taught you that, eh? You may thank your own particular lucky star that you had him for a brother-in-law instead of me."

"Don't talk rot!" said Bunny gruffly.

Saltash stretched up his arms with a laugh. "No, we'll talk sense--good square sense. I take it you'll continue to manage the estate for the present? If you get bored, we'll find an agent, but I'm satisfied with things as they are. We'll go round and have a look at the old Dower House to-morrow. It has a fairly decent position, you know,--overlooks Graydown. That ought to please you both."

Bunny turned upon him. "Oh, confound it, Charlie!" he said. "I can't talk about this. I couldn't possibly take it. You're too d.a.m.ned generous. I've never done anything to deserve it."

"Oh yes, you have!" said Saltash unexpectedly, "you've done a good many things for me. You have always been the _bon ami_ whatever I did--from your childhood upwards." His dark face laughed with friendly warmth into the boy's troubled eyes. "Always stuck up for me, haven't you, Bunny?" he said.

"Oh, but that's rot," objected Bunny. "A man is bound to stick up for his pals."

"Even though he knows they're not worth it?" laughed Saltash. "Yes, that's just what I like about you. It's the one point on which we touch.

But I'm not sure that even you would stick up for me if you knew precisely what sort of rotter you were sticking up for."

"Oh, shut up!" said Bunny.

"_Bien, mon cher!_ We return to your affairs. Have you put up the banns yet? I presume you will allow me to be best man? Get it over soon, I beseech you! I can't stay here indefinitely. As a matter of fact, I'm due in Scotland at the present moment. Can't you fix it up immediately?

And you can have the little car and leave of absence till you've got over it. Old Bishop can run this show till the winter. Maud can fit up the Dower House for you. And I shall feel at liberty to roam the desert once more--unenc.u.mbered."

"You're jolly decent to me!" said Bunny.

"Think so?" Saltash's brows twitched humorously. "I seem to be developing a taste for worthy deeds. But there's no reason on earth why you two shouldn't get married and done for as soon as possible. I'll see Larpent to-night and tell him, and you can go and see the parson about it to-morrow. You'll find Nonette won't put any obstacles in the way. She's a good child and does as she's told."

"No, Toby won't mind," Bunny said, with a sudden memory of her quick surrender flooding his soul. "By Jove, Charlie! You are a good sort to help me like this. There's no one else that can get things moving as you can."

"Oh, you can count on me for that," laughed Saltash. "I never was a drifter. Life is too short. We'll meet again to-morrow then. Come and dine if you like, and tell me what you've arranged! Good night!" He turned in his sudden fashion. "Good luck to you!"

He was gone upon the words, vanishing into the larches almost noiselessly as he had come, and Bunny was left alone.

He stood motionless at the gate for some time longer gazing out over the quiet, night-wrapt down. There was no elation in his att.i.tude, only a deep thoughtfulness. He had never understood Charlie though oddly enough he had always believed in him. But to-night for the first time a curious doubt pierced his mind--a doubt that recurred again and again, banishing all sense of exultation. Why had Charlie returned like this? Why was he so eager to meddle in this affair? Why so recklessly generous? He had a strong feeling that there was something behind it all, some motive unrealized, some spur goading him, of which he, Bunny, might not approve if he came to know of it. He wished he could fathom the matter. It was unlike Saltash to take so much trouble over anything. He felt as if in some inexplicable fashion he were being tricked.

He put the thought from him, but he could not drive it away. Just as he had felt himself baffled a little earlier by Toby, so now he felt the same inability to comprehend Saltash. He seemed to be groping at a locked door, feeling and feeling for a key, that always eluded him. And again he wished that Jake was within reach.

He turned homewards at length, dissatisfied and ill at ease, yet calling himself a fool for scenting a mystery that did not exist.

CHAPTER XI

SUSPICION

The Graydown Stables were always a model of well-ordered efficiency, and it had ever been Bunny's pride to show them to his friends. But he awaited General Melrose and his daughter on the following afternoon in a mood of some impatience. He had arrived early in the hope of finding Toby at liberty, but his young _fiancee_ was nowhere to be found. She had gone out riding, Maud said, immediately after luncheon, and he realized with some disgust that he had forgotten to tell her on the previous day of his coming.

"She will be in to tea, dear," Maud said, and he was obliged to content himself with the prospect of seeing her and acquainting her with Saltash's energetic interest on their behalf after the visitors had gone.

He had never felt less in the mood for entertaining casual friends than he felt on that sunny afternoon in September as he lounged in the wide stable-yard and waited for them. He had always liked Sheila Melrose, they had a good deal in common. But curiously enough it was that very fact that made him strangely reluctant to meet her now. In some inexplicable fashion, he found her simple directness disconcerting. Toby's words stuck obstinately in his mind, refusing to be dislodged. "She likes you well enough not to want you to marry me." He realized beyond question that those words had not been without some significance. It might be just instinct with her, as Toby had declared, but that Sheila regarded his engagement as a mistake he was fairly convinced. That she herself had any feeling for him beyond that of friendship he did not for a moment imagine. Bunny had no vanity in that direction. There was too much of the boy, too much of the frank comrade, in his disposition for that. They were pals, and the idea of anything deeper than palship on either side had never seriously crossed his mind. He was honest in all his ways, and his love for Toby--that wild and wonderful flower of first love--filled all his conscious thoughts to the exclusion of aught beside. The odd, sweet beauty of her had him in thrall. She was so totally different from everyone else he had ever encountered. He felt the lure of her more and more with every meeting, the wonder and the charm.

But Sheila did not want him to marry her, and a very natural feeling of irritation against her possessed him in consequence. Doubtless Sheila had a perfect right to her opinions, but she might keep them to herself.

Between Saltash's headlong resolve to help and Sheila's veiled desire to hinder, he felt that his course was becoming too complicated, as if in spite of his utmost efforts to guide his own craft there were contrary currents at work that he was powerless to avoid.

He had an urgent desire for Toby that afternoon, and he was inclined somewhat unreasonably to resent her absence. But when at length the hoot of the General's car warned him of his visitors' advent as they turned in at the gate, he was suddenly conscious of a feeling of relief that he was alone. Toby was not at her ease with them. She fancied they disapproved of her, and whether the fancy were justified or not he was glad that she was not there to meet them. He determined to get the business over as quickly as possible.

Sheila in her dainty summer attire was looking even prettier than usual, and almost against his will Bunny noted the fact. Against his will also, his barely-acknowledged feeling of resentment vanished before he had been five minutes in her company. Sheila's charms went beyond mere prettiness.

She had the tact and ready ease of manner which experience of the world alone can impart. She was sympathetic and quick of understanding. Without flattering, she possessed the happy knack of setting those about her at their ease. It was very rarely that she was roused to indignation; perhaps only Saltash knew how deep her indignation could be. And he was not the man to impart the knowledge to anyone else.

So on that warm September afternoon in her gracious way she restored Bunny's good humour and reinstated their friendship without effort, without apparent consciousness of any strain upon it. They went through the stables, and Bunny displayed his favourites with an enthusiasm of which he had not believed himself capable a little earlier. The stud had always been his great delight from boyhood, and both the General and his daughter took a keen interest in all they saw.

The time pa.s.sed with astounding rapidity, and the chiming of the great stable-clock awoke Bunny at length to the fact that the afternoon was practically over.

"Maud will think we are never going in to tea," he said, with a laugh, turning back from the gate into the training field where they had been inspecting some of the colts. "You'll come round to the house, won't you?

She is expecting you--said I was to be sure to bring you in."

Sheila smiled and accepted the invitation. "We were hoping to see Mrs.

Bolton to say good-bye," she said. "Is Miss Larpent not here to-day?"

"Yes, she's out riding," Bunny said. "She may be in any moment. It's a pity Jake is away. He is expected back some time next week."

"Yes, I'm sorry to have missed him," said the General. "Tell him that I've enjoyed seeing the animals, and I think he has a very fine show! I never could understand how Saltash could bring himself to part with the stud."

"He's so seldom at home," said Bunny. "Yachting is much more in his line--though as a matter of fact he is at the Castle just now, came back yesterday."

"Is he indeed? Are you sure of that?" Sheila spoke with surprise. "I thought he meant to be away much longer."

"His intentions never last more than a couple of days," remarked the General with a touch of acidity. "Nothing he does ever surprises me."

"He's a very good chap," began Bunny. "He's been no end decent to me.

Why,--" he broke off suddenly--"Hullo! There he is! And--Toby!"

Two figures had come suddenly round the corner of some stables, walking side by side. Both were in riding-dress, but the day being hot, the girl had discarded her long coat and was carrying it without ceremony over her arm. Her silk shirt was open at the neck, her soft hat pushed jauntily down on the side of her head. She was laughing as she came, and she looked like a merry little cow-boy straight from the prairies.

The man who moved beside her was laughing also. There was no grace about him, only that strange unstudied kingliness that had earned for him the t.i.tle of "Rex." He was swift to see the advancing visitors and swept the hat from his head with a royal gesture of greeting.

Toby's face flushed deeply; she looked for the moment inclined to run away. Then with an impulse half-defiant, she restrained herself and caught back the smile that had so nearly vanished. She slapped the switch against her gaitered leg with boyish swagger and advanced.

A quick frown drew Bunny's forehead as he observed her att.i.tude. He spoke impetuously, almost before they met.