Cursed by a Fortune Part 33

"Oh, my dear, and me this figure!" cried the lady, and for the next ten minutes there was a hurried sound of dressing going on.

"Look sharp," said Wilton. "I'll go down and let them in. You'd better rouse up Cook and Samuel; they'll want something to eat."

"I won't be two minutes, my dear. Take them in the library; the wood ashes will soon glow up again. My own darlings! I am glad."

Mrs Wilton was less, for by the time the heavy bolts, lock, and bar had been undone, she was out of her room, and hurried to the bal.u.s.trade to look down into the hall, paying no heed to the cool puff of wind that rushed upward and nearly extinguished the candle her husband had set down upon the marble table.

"My own boy!" she sighed, as she saw Claud enter, and heard his words.

"Thankye," he said. "Gone to bed soon."

"The usual time, my boy," said Wilton, in very different tones to those he had used at their last meeting. "But haven't you brought her?"

"Brought her?"

"Yes; where's Kate?"

"Fast asleep in bed by now, I suppose," said the young man sulkily.

"Oh, but you should have brought her. Where have you come from?"

"Fast train down. London. Didn't suppose I was going to stop here, did you, to be kicked?"

"Don't say any more about that, my boy. It's all over now; but why didn't you bring her down?"

"Oh, Claud, my boy, you shouldn't have left her like that."

"Brought her down--Kate--shouldn't have left," said the young man, excitedly. "Here, what do you both mean?"

"There, nonsense; what is the use of dissimulation now, my boy," said Wilton. "Of course we know, and--there--it's of no use to cry over spilt milk. We did not like it, and you shouldn't have both tried to throw dust in our eyes."

"Look here, guv'nor, have you been to a dinner anywhere to-night?"

"Absurd, sir. Stop this fooling. Where did you leave Kate?"

"In bed and asleep, I suppose."

"But--but where have you been, then?"

"London, I tell you. Shouldn't have been back now, only I couldn't find Harry Dasent. He's off somewhere, so I thought I'd better come back. I say, is she all right again?"

"I knew it! I knew it!" shrieked Mrs Wilton. "I said it from the first. Oh, James, James!--The pond--the pond! She's gone--she's gone!"

"Who's gone?" stammered Claud, looking from father to mother, and back again.

"Kate, dear; drowned--drowned," wailed Mrs Wilton.

"What!" shouted Claud.

"Look here, sir," said his father, catching him by the arm in a tremendous grip, as he raised the candle to gaze searchingly in his son's face; "let's have the truth at once. You're playing some game of your own to hide this--this escapade."

"Guv'nor!" cried the young man, catching his father by the arm in turn; "put down that cursed candle; you'll burn my face. You don't mean to say the little thing has cut?"

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

James Wilton stood for a few moments staring searchingly at his son.

Then, in a sudden access of anger, he rushed to the library door, flung it open, came back, caught the young man by the shoulders, and began to back him in.

"Here, what are you doing, guv'nor? Leave off! Don't do that. Here, why don't you answer my question?"

"Hold your tongue, idiot! Do you suppose I want all the servants to hear what is said? Go in there."

He gave him a final thrust, and then hurried out to hasten upstairs to where Mrs Wilton stood holding on by the heavy bal.u.s.trade which crossed the hall like a gallery, and rocking herself to and fro.

"Oh, James, I knew it--I knew it!" she sobbed out. "She's dead--she's dead!"

"Hush! Hold your tongue!" cried her husband. "Do you want to alarm the house? You'll have all the servants here directly. Come along."

He drew her arm roughly beneath his, and hurried her down the stairs into the library, thrust her into her son's arms, and then hurried to the hall table for the candle, ending by shutting himself in with them.

"Oh, Claud, Claud, my darling boy!" wailed Mrs Wilton.

"If you don't hold your tongue, Maria, you'll put me in a rage," growled Wilton, savagely. "Sit in that chair."

"Oh, James, James, you shouldn't," sobbed the poor woman, "you shouldn't," as she was plumped down heavily; but she spoke in a whisper.

"Done?" asked Claud, mockingly. "Then, now p'raps you'll answer my question. Has she bolted?"

"Silence, idiot!" growled his father, so fiercely that the young man backed away from trim in alarm. "No, don't keep silence, but speak.

You contemptible young hound, do you think you can impose upon me by your question--by your pretended ignorance? Do you think you can impose upon me, I say? Do you think I cannot see through your plans?"

"I say, mater, what's the guv'nor talking about?" cried Claud.

"She's dead--she's dead!"

"Who's dead? What's dead?"

"Answer me, sir," continued Wilton, backing his son till he could get no farther for the big table. "Do you think you can impose upon me?"

"Who wants to impose on you, guv'nor?"

"You do, sir. But I see through your miserable plan, and I tell you this. You can't get the money into your own hands to make ducks and drakes of, for I am executor and trustee and guardian, and if there's any law in the land I'll lock up every shilling so that you can't touch it. If you had played honourably with me you would have had ample, and the estate would have come to you some day, cleared of inc.u.mbrances, if you had not killed yourself first."

"I don't know what you're talking about," cried Claud, angrily. "Who's imposing on you? Who's playing dishonourably? You behaved like a brute to me, and I went off to get out of it all, only I didn't want to be hard on ma, and so I came back."

"Oh, my darling boy! It was very, very good of you."