Jacob's Ladder Part 38

"I forbid you to try," she said firmly.

"I am in your hands," he acquiesced.

"I couldn't come last night," she explained. "That beast of a Montague watched me all the evening.--Now let me get your breakfast up, in case we are interrupted."

There followed five minutes of the new sport, after which Jacob found himself with a thermos flask filled with coffee, a packet of hard-boiled eggs, and more sandwiches.

"I should think that ought to see you through," she said. "Things will probably happen to-day."

"What sort of things?" he demanded eagerly.

She shook her head.

"I shan't tell you anything! Only I'm doing my best."

He leaned a little farther out of the aperture.

"You're an amazing person," he declared. "I can't tell you, Lady Mary, how grateful I feel to you. You've enabled me to keep my end up. I should have hated being robbed by those blackguards--Hartwell and Montague, I mean," he concluded hastily.

She sighed.

"Really, I have been rather unselfish," she ruminated. "I suppose we should all have been quite flush for a month or two if this little adventure had come off."

"Adventure?" Jacob repeated dubiously.

"That's just how it seems to father," she continued. "I suppose you wonder I'm not more embarra.s.sed when I speak about him. I'm not a bit.

As he remarked himself, he's only trying to modernise the predatory instincts of a governing clan."

"That's how he looks at it, is it?" Jacob murmured.

She nodded.

"It's in the atmosphere up here."

"How's the Glasgow Daisy?" he enquired, after a moment's awkward pause.

"Broken ankle," she told him. "They're in a terrible state. He'll have to cancel all his fights, and I heard Mr. Montague say last night that it will cost them the best part of a thousand pounds to settle with him.... Listen!"

A moment's silence, then Lady Mary settled down to her oars.

"Voices!" she exclaimed. "I'm off."

Jacob looked through the aperture on the landward side and saw pleasant things. First of all, through the mist, loomed up the figure of Montague, approaching at the double. Behind came Felixstowe, rapidly gaining upon him.

"Hi, you," the latter cried, as Montague stooped to unfasten the boat, "let that rope alone!"

Montague turned around and hesitated. His pursuer stood by his side.

"I'll relieve you, my pretty fellow," he said. "Hand over the key of the tower. Come along, now. Three seconds."

Montague contemplated Felixstowe's somewhat weedy but not unathletic form, exceeded the time and fell with his head in the water. His a.s.sailant took the key from his pocket as he staggered to his feet, unfastened the rope and paddled across the channel. A moment later there were hasty steps upon the stone stairs and the door with its iron grating was unlocked. Jacob advanced to meet his friend.

"Jacob, old thing!"

"Felix! By Jove, I'm glad to see you!"

The two men shook hands. There was a moment's silence, a slightly dubious atmosphere. Welcome though it was, Felixstowe's intervention had its embarra.s.sing side.

"You're looking pretty fit, old chap, except that you need a barber,"

the latter remarked.

"Thanks to Lady Mary," Jacob told his deliverer. "She's been feeding me with a fishing rod from the seaward side."

"Good little sport! It was she who sent me the telegram--put me up to the game, in fact. I warned you, Jacob."

"I didn't exactly expect to meet Mr. Montague up here!" was the somewhat grim reply.

"Most likely spot in the United Kingdom!--Shall we beat it? Got a car waiting, and we can catch the morning train from the junction if we hurry."

They descended the steps in silence, and Jacob drew a little breath of relief as they entered the boat. Montague was sitting upon the sands with both hands pressed over his eye, as they landed. He shrank back when he saw Jacob.

"What's become of the other one?" Jacob enquired.

"Your man Dauncey came up with me," Lord Felixstowe explained. "I rang him up directly I got Mary's telegram. We met Hartwell just starting to follow Montague. I hung round long enough to see that he was getting what he deserved, and then I came on."

They met a triumphant Dauncey, a moment or two later.

"Given him his gruel?" Lord Felixstowe asked pleasantly.

"He's lying in the blackberry bushes," was the grim reply.

They approached the front door, where the motor-car was standing. The Marquis strolled out to meet them, with a pleasant smile. He was entirely free from embarra.s.sment and he addressed Jacob courteously.

"Mr. Pratt," he said, "the fortune of war has changed. Breakfast is served in the dining-room. Might I suggest a bath and a shave?"

Jacob lost his head.

"You d.a.m.ned rascal!" he exclaimed.

The Marquis's eyebrows were slightly elevated. Otherwise he was unmoved.

"My dear sir," he rejoined, with a gently argumentative air, "of course I am a rascal. Every one of my family, from the days of the Highland robber who founded it, has been a rascal. So are you a rascal, when the opportunity presents itself. We all fight for our own hand in varying ways. A touch of my ancestry has evolved this little scheme, whose lamentable failure I deplore. A touch of your ancestry, my dear Mr. Pratt, would without a doubt induce you to dispose of some of those wonderful oil shares of yours in a hurry to a poorer man, if you thought their value was going to decline. Just now I am faced with failure. I do not lose my temper. I offer you freshly broiled trout, a delicious salmon, some eggs and bacon, and hot coffee."

Jacob looked at Lord Felixstowe, and Lord Felixstowe looked at him. Up from the landing stage came Lady Mary, singing gaily.

"What about it, old dear?" Felixstowe asked. "We can catch the eleven-twenty."

"Call it tribute," the Marquis suggested ingratiatingly, "the tribute of the beaten foe. My servant shall attend you at the bathroom, Mr.

Pratt. Do not keep us waiting longer than you can help. And remember, between ourselves--between gentlemen--not a word about the matter to the Marchioness or Lady Mary."