Helena's Path Part 5

"Politely--but firmly," added Captain Irons.

"And what do you say, Mr. Stillford?"

"I'll go with these fellows anyhow--and see that they don't overstep the law. No more than the strictly necessary force, Colonel!"

"I begin to think that the law is rather stupid," said the Marchesa. She thought it stupid; Lynborough held it iniquitous; the law was at a discount, and its majesty little reverenced, that night.

Ultimately, however, Stillford persuaded the angry lady to--as he tactfully put it--give Lynborough a chance. "See what he does first. If he crosses the path now, after warning, your case is clear. Write to him again then, and tell him that, if he persists in trespa.s.sing, your servants have orders to interfere."

"That lets him bathe to-morrow!" Once more the Marchesa returned to her point--a very sore one.

"Just for once, it really doesn't matter!" Stillford urged.

Reluctantly she acquiesced; the others were rather relieved--not because they objected to a fight, but because eight in the morning was rather early to start one. Breakfast at the Grange was at nine-thirty, and, though the men generally went down for a dip, they went much later than Lord Lynborough proposed to go.

"He shall have one chance of withdrawing gracefully," the Marchesa finally decided.

Stillford was unfeignedly glad to hear her say so; he had, from a professional point of view, no desire for a conflict. Inquiries which he had made in Fillby--both from men in Scarsmoor Castle employ and from independent persons--had convinced him that Lynborough's case was strong. For many years--through the time of two Lynboroughs before the present at Scarsmoor, and through the time of three Crosses (the predecessors of the Marchesa) at Nab Grange, Scarsmoor Castle had without doubt a.s.serted this dominant right over Nab Grange. It had been claimed and exercised openly--and, so far as he could discover, without protest or opposition. The period, as he reckoned it, would prove to be long enough to satisfy the law as to prescription; it was very unlikely that any doc.u.ment existed--or anyhow could be found--which would serve to explain away the presumption which uses such as this gave. In fine, the Marchesa's legal adviser was of opinion that in a legal fight the Marchesa would be beaten. His own hope lay in compromise; if friendly relations could be established, there would be a chance of a compromise. He was sure that the Marchesa would readily grant as a favor--and would possibly give in return for a nominal payment--all that Lynborough asked. That would be the best way out of the difficulty. "Let us temporize, and be conciliatory," thought the man of law.

Alas, neither conciliation nor dilatoriness was in Lord Lynborough's line! He read the Marchesa's letter with appreciation and pleasure. He admired the curtness of its intimation, and the lofty haughtiness with which the writer dismissed the subject of his bathing. But he treated the doc.u.ment--it cannot be said that he did wrong--as a plain defiance.

It appeared to him that no further declaration of war was necessary; he was not concerned to consider evidence nor to weigh his case, as Stillford wanted to weigh her case. This for two reasons: first, because he was entirely sure that he was right; secondly because he had no intention of bringing the question to trial. Lynborough knew but one tribunal; he had pointed out its local habitation to Roger Wilbraham.

Accordingly it fell out that conciliatory counsels and Fabian tactics at Nab Grange received a very severe--perhaps indeed a fatal--shock the next morning.

At about nine o'clock the Marchesa was sitting in her dressing-gown by the open window, reading her correspondence and sipping an early cup of tea--she had become quite English in her habits. Her maid reentered the room, carrying in her hand a small parcel. "For your Excellency," she said. "A man has just left it at the door." She put the parcel down on the marble top of the dressing-table.

"What is it?" asked the Marchesa indolently.

"I don't know, your Excellency. It's hard, and very heavy for its size."

Laying down the letter which she had been perusing, the Marchesa took up the parcel and cut the string which bound it. With a metallic clink there fell on her dressing-table--a padlock! To it was fastened a piece of paper, bearing these words: "Padlock found attached to gate leading to Beach Path. Detached by order of Lord Lynborough. With Lord Lynborough's compliments."

Now, too, Lynborough might have got his flush--if he could have been there to see it!

"Bring me my field-gla.s.ses!" she cried.

The window commanded a view of the gardens, of the meadows beyond the sunk fence, of the path--Beach Path as that man was pleased to call it!--and of the gate. At the last-named object the enraged Marchesa directed her gaze. The barricade of furze branches was gone! The gate hung open upon its hinges!

While she still looked, three figures came across the lens. A very large stout shape--a short spare form--a tall, lithe, very lean figure. They were just reaching the gate, coming from the direction of the sea. The two first were strangers to her; the third she had seen for a moment the afternoon before on Sandy Nab. It was Lynborough himself, beyond a doubt. The others must be friends--she cared not about them. But to sit here with the padlock before her, and see Lynborough pa.s.s through the gate--a meeker woman than she had surely been moved to wrath! He had bathed--as he had said he would. And he had sent her the padlock. That was what came of listening to conciliatory counsels, of letting herself give ear to dilatory persuasions!

"War!" declared the Marchesa. "War--war--war! And if he's not careful, I won't confine it to the path either!" She seemed to dream of conquests, perhaps to reckon resources, whereof Mr. Stillford, her legal adviser, had taken no account.

She carried the padlock down to breakfast with her; it was to her as a Fiery Cross; it summoned her and her array to battle. She exhibited it to her guests.

"Now, gentlemen, I'm in your hands!" said she. "Is that man to walk over my property for his miserable bathing to-morrow?"

He would have been a bold man who, at that moment, would have answered her with a "Yes."

_Chapter Five_

THE BEGINNING OF WAR

An enviable characteristic of Lord Lynborough's was that, when he had laid the fuse, he could wait patiently for the explosion. (That last word tends to recur in connection with him.) Provided he knew that his adventure and his joke were coming, he occupied the interval profitably--which is to say, as agreeably as he could. Having launched the padlock--his symbolical ultimatum--and a.s.serted his right, he spent the morning in dictating to Roger Wilbraham a full, particular, and veracious account of his early differences with the Dean of Christ Church. Roger found his task entertaining, for Lynborough's mimicry of his distinguished opponent was excellent. Stabb meanwhile was among the tombs in an adjacent apartment.

This studious tranquillity was disturbed by the announcement of a call from Mr. Stillford. Not without difficulty he had persuaded the Marchesa to let him reconnoiter the ground--to try, if it seemed desirable, the effect of a bit of "bluff"--at any rate to discover, if he could, something of the enemy's plan of campaign. Stillford was, in truth, not a little afraid of a lawsuit!

Lynborough denied himself to no man, and received with courtesy every man who came. But his face grew grim and his manner distant when Stillford discounted the favorable effect produced by his appearance and manner--also by his name, well known in the county--by confessing that he called in the capacity of the Marchesa's solicitor.

"A solicitor?" said Lynborough, slightly raising his brows.

"Yes. The Marchesa does me the honor to place her confidence in me; and it occurs to me that, before this unfortunate dispute----"

"Why unfortunate?" interrupted Lynborough with an air of some surprise.

"Surely it is--between neighbors? The Castle and the Grange should be friends." His cunning suggestion elicited no response. "It occurred to me," he continued, somewhat less glibly, "that, before further annoyance or expense was caused, it might be well if I talked matters over with your lordship's solicitor."

"Sir," said Lynborough, "saving your presence--which, I must beg you to remember, was not invited by me--I don't like solicitors. I have no solicitor. I shall never have a solicitor. You can't talk with a non-existent person."

"But proceedings are the natural--the almost inevitable--result of such a situation as your action has created, Lord Lynborough. My client can't be flouted, she can't have her indubitable rights outraged----"

"Do you think they're indubitable?" Lynborough put in, with a sudden quick flash of his eyes.

For an instant Stillford hesitated. Then he made his orthodox reply. "As I am instructed, they certainly are."

"Ah!" said Lynborough dryly.

"No professional man could say more than that, Lord Lynborough."

"And they all say just as much! If I say anything you don't like, again remember that this interview is not of my seeking, Mr. Stillford."

Stillford waxed a trifle sarcastic. "You'll conduct your case in person?" he asked.

"If you hale me to court, I shall. Otherwise there's no question of a case."

This time Stillford's eyes brightened; yet still he doubted Lynborough's meaning.

"We shouldn't hesitate to take our case into court."

"Since you're wrong, you'd probably win," said Lynborough, with a smile.

"But I'd make it cost you the devil of a lot of money. That, at least, the law can do--I'm not aware that it can do much else. But as far as I'm concerned, I should as soon appeal to the Pope of Rome in this matter as to a law-court--sooner in fact."

Stillford grew more confidently happy--and more amazed at Lynborough.

"But you've no right to--er--a.s.sert rights if you don't intend to support them."