Jacob's Ladder Part 37

"Don't be afraid," Hartwell rejoined. "It isn't loaded."

The prize fighter took a step forward.

"... ten," concluded Jacob, who had been counting all the time.

There was a sharp report and a yell of pain. The prize fighter, hopping on his right leg and holding his left ankle, seized a bar of the grating.

"If you don't let me out, you b--y b--s, I'll pound you both into a jelly!" he shouted. "I've a d.a.m.ned good mind to do it now! This'll cost you five hundred quid, this will! If I can't fight next Tuesday, it'll cost you a thousand. Open the b--y door!"

They let him out, and Jacob, through the aperture, watched the three men make slow progress to the boat, one on each side supporting the Glasgow Daisy, whose language the whole of the way was vociferous and obscene. Afterwards Jacob once more found time hanging heavily upon his hands. He sharpened his penknife and commenced to carve his initials on the wall. There were no signs of Lady Mary or any other visitors until after dinner. Then the Marquis came slowly down from the castle, paused to light a cigarette when he reached the boat, and paddled himself over, looking around all the time with the air of one enjoying the scenery and the beautiful evening. Finally he climbed the stone stairs and presented himself at the other side of the grating.

"Mr. Pratt," he said, "I am sorry that you did not appreciate our friends' little effort to provide you with some amus.e.m.e.nt in the way of your favourite sport."

"Thank you," Jacob replied, "I don't fight professional heavyweights."

"I am afraid," the Marquis observed with a sigh, "that this particular heavyweight will not be in fighting trim again for some months. A heavy responsibility for you, Mr. Pratt."

Jacob smiled.

"I didn't engage him," he said.

"In a sense, perhaps, you did not," the Marquis admitted, "but yours appears to be the hand which maimed him. The Glasgow Daisy, as I believe he is called in pugilistic circles, appears to be a person of considerable determination, not to say obstinacy. He declines to leave the Castle until he has received at least five hundred pounds on account of his injury. I left him arguing the matter with Mr.

Montague. The interview promised to be a stormy one."

Jacob laughed softly.

"I hope he gives them both a hiding," he remarked.

The Marquis coughed, and, coming a little nearer to the grating, scrutinised Jacob with some surprise.

"You seem to be keeping very fit," he observed.

"Doing me a lot of good, this change of diet," Jacob a.s.sured him. "We all eat too much."

"Nevertheless," the Marquis proceeded, "we feel that it is time our little enterprise was ended. I have a fancy to have you for a neighbour, Mr. Pratt."

"Very charming of you," Jacob replied. "So far as I have seen anything of the country around, I like it."

"That," the Marquis rejoined, "simplifies matters. The La.s.swade Moor Estate, adjoining mine, is yours for fifty thousand pounds. I have the agreement in my pocket. To-morrow the price will be fifty-five thousand, and the next day sixty thousand."

"When can I inspect the property?" Jacob asked.

The Marquis coughed.

"I fear," he replied, "that there will be no opportunity for anything of that sort. You must take my word for it that the land which, although fortunately unentailed, has been in the possession of my family for centuries, is in every respect desirable."

"Moorland and boulder-strewn heath, I suppose?" Jacob queried.

"It possesses the characteristics of common land," the other admitted.

"It would make an excellent golf links."

"Nothing doing," Jacob decided. "When I buy an estate, I shall want a house with it."

"A mansion suitable to your requirements could easily be built."

Jacob shook his head.

"The idea of building a modern house in such a spot," he said, "distresses me."

"I understand, then, that you decline to purchase my property?" the Marquis asked regretfully.

"In toto and absolutely," was the firm reply. "In other words, I am not having any."

"In that case," the visitor announced, after a brief pause, "it is my somewhat painful duty to tell you that we have decided to stop your daily supply of bread and water. You thrive too well on it."

"Just as you like," was the careless rejoinder. "I can do with or without food."

The Marquis contemplated his guest for several moments in silence.

"You will permit me to say, Mr. Pratt, that your courage moves me to the profoundest admiration," he declared at last. "I trust that after this little business negotiation is concluded, I shall have the privilege of your friendship for many years to come."

"You're rather boring me," Jacob told him mildly. "I want to get on with my initials. I'm doing them in Old English."

"I should be sorry to interfere with so courteous a duty," the Marquis replied--and departed.

CHAPTER XXII

From that time onward, notwithstanding Jacob's unbroken composure, time began to hang heavily. Towards evening, he pulled up one of his strings and found sandwiches and whisky enough to keep him going. He received no more visitors, friendly or otherwise, and he listened in vain until nightfall for the sound of Lady Mary's boat. In the morning, however, he was awakened early by the sound of her whistle below. The room was half full of grey mist. Leaning out of the aperture, he could scarcely distinguish her form as she stood up in the boat, and in the distance he could hear foghorns from pa.s.sing steamers blowing.

"How are you?" she asked anxiously.

"Right as a trivet," he a.s.sured her. "Wish I had a mirror, though, to see how I look in a beard."

She scrutinised his appearance and laughed softly, balancing herself easily against the oar which she had stretched out to the side of the tower. The moisture of the sea was upon her face and hair. A very becoming _peignoir_ imperfectly concealed her bathing dress.

"I never realised before what a spick-and-span person you were," she observed. "You are beginning to look a little dishevelled, aren't you?

Would you really like me to bring you a mirror and some shaving things?"

"Are you beginning to make fun of me?" he asked, leaning a little farther out.

She shook her head, and he realised suddenly that there was a note of tragedy underneath her a.s.sumed cheerfulness. He went on talking desperately, trying not to notice the quiver of her lips.

"Because if you are I shall slip down and do my famous dive act. I don't believe in your sunken rocks."