Mr. Marx's Secret Part 23

For, bearing in mind the evident habits and last night's occupation of Silchester and de Cartienne, I had begun to wonder somewhat apprehensively what manner of man the master of such pupils might be. Now I felt sure that the idea which had first occurred to me had been the correct one, and that the doings of the night before were carried on altogether under the rose. The man James had all the appearance of a servant whom it would be easy to bribe. This without doubt had been done.

"Perhaps they haven't lived all their lives in the country, sir, as I have," I answered. "I have always been used to getting up early."

"So you are my new pupil?" he said. "Well, Mr. Morton, I'm very pleased to see you, and I have an idea that we shall get on very well together. I was going to walk down to the sea. Will you come with me?"

I followed him along the tortuous path to the sh.o.r.e, and on the way he questioned me about my acquirements, putting me through a sort of _viva-voce_ examination, the result of which appeared to satisfy him.

"This is quite a pleasant surprise to me," he said, as we turned back to the house. "You are almost as advanced as de Cartienne and far more so than Silchester. I suppose you mean to matriculate?"

I told him that I thought so, but he scarcely seemed to hear. Apparently his mind had wandered to some other subject and for nearly a quarter of an hour he remained absorbed. I learned afterwards that this was a habit of his.

With a start he came to himself, and, apologising for his absent-mindedness, led the way back to the house and into the breakfast-room. The cloth was laid for four and the urn was hissing upon the table; but there was no one else down.

"Is neither Lord Silchester nor Mr. de Cartienne up yet, James?" inquired Dr. Randall.

James believed not, but would ascertain. In a few moments he returned.

"Lord Silchester desires me to say that he was reading late last night, sir, and has overslept himself; but he will be down as soon as possible,"

James announced solemnly.

Remembering that James had been in attendance upon us in de Cartienne's rooms last night, I thought that this was rather cool. But it was no concern of mine and I held my peace.

Dr. Randall frowned slightly and looked vexed.

"It appears to me that Silchester does most of his reading at night," he remarked. "I could wish that the results of it were a little more apparent. And Mr. de Cartienne, James? Has he overslept himself, too?"

"Mr. de Cartienne will be here immediately, sir," the man announced.

We began breakfast. When we were about half-way through the meal, the door opened and de Cartienne appeared. He cast an apprehensive glance at me, and then, seeing that Dr. Randall greeted him as usual, looked relieved.

Presently the doctor left the table, bidding us join him in the study in half an hour. Directly the door had closed de Cartienne leaned back in his chair and laughed softly to himself.

"Whatever made you get up so early?" he asked, looking at me curiously.

"Gave me quite a turn when I heard that you were down and alone with Grumps; and Cis was in an awful funk. We were afraid that you might let out something about last night--accidentally, of course; and then there would have been the deuce to pay and no mistake. James, take my plate and bring me a brandy-and-soda. Take care the doctor doesn't see you."

"Whose servant is James?" I asked, as he disappeared--"yours or the doctor's?"

"The doctor imagines that he's his, I suppose; but he gets a lot more from Cis and me than Grumps pays him," de Cartienne explained carelessly.

"I knew him before he came here, and got him to apply for the situation by promising to double his wages."

"And the advantages?" I asked.

"Obvious enough, I should think. You've seen some of them already, and you'll see some more before you've been here long."

"I daresay. Perhaps it would be as well for me to tell you, de Cartienne, that what I have seen I don't like."

"Very likely not," he answered carelessly. "I thought directly I saw you that you were a bit of a prig--I beg your pardon, I should say, rather strait-laced. Still, I don't suppose you'll think it worth your while to interfere. You can go your way and Cis and I can go ours."

"That would make it a little dull for me," I said slowly. "Perhaps I am not quite so strait-laced as you seem to think. I suppose you would teach me how to play cards, if I desired to learn?"

"Oh, certainly! And how to use this also," he remarked, drawing a latchkey from his pocket and swinging it carelessly backwards and forwards.

"I think I will learn, then," I answered. "After all, this place would be ghastly dull if I didn't do as you fellows do."

He looked at me searchingly out of his keen dark eyes, but I sipped my coffee leisurely and seemed to be quite unconscious of his scrutiny.

Apparently he was satisfied, for I saw the hard lines of his mouth relax a little and he smiled--a disagreeable smile of contemptuous triumph.

"I've no doubt you'll prove an apt pupil," he remarked. "Have you finished? If so, we'll go and have a cigarette in my room before we start work with Grumps."

"Does the doctor allow smoking?" I asked.

"To tell you the truth, Morton, we've never asked him. What the eye doesn't see, the heart doesn't grieve over, you know. We go on that principle, and smoke in our rooms with the doors shut and windows open.

Come along!"

CHAPTER XXIX.

A DINNER-PARTY SUB ROSA.

In less than a week's time I was master of the state of affairs at Borden Tower. Dr. Randall, with the best possible intentions, was the worst possible man that could have been chosen for the guardianship of two such pupils as Lord Silchester and Leonard de Cartienne. He was a scholar and a pedant, utterly unsuspicious and ignorant of the ways of the world, himself so truthful and honourable that he could scarcely have imagined deceit possible in others, and certainly not in his own wards. Of the servants, James and his wife were the only ones in authority, and they were the tools of de Cartienne.

The latter I could not quite understand. The only thing about him perfectly clear was that he was just the worst companion possible for Silchester. For the rest, he was so clever that his presence here at all as a pupil seemed unnecessary. He appeared to be rich and he took a deep interest of some sort in Cecil. Seemingly it was a friendly interest, but of that I did not feel a.s.sured. At any rate, it was an injurious a.s.sociation for Cecil, and I determined to do everything in my power to counteract it.

To strike at once, to attempt to show him the folly of the courses into which he was being led, I saw would be futile. I must have time and opportunity. Any violent measures in such a case would be worse than useless. My only course, obnoxious though it was, was to join them in their pursuits and try to gain some sort of influence over Cecil, while I kept him as far as possible from falling into further mischief.

Accordingly, on the first evening after my arrival at Borden Tower, I was initiated into the mysteries of poker and Prussian bank, and on subsequent occasions I either joined them or looked on. The result in the main was pretty much as I had expected. De Cartienne won always when the stakes were very large, and Lord Silchester when they were scarcely worth having.

The earlier part of the day was by far the pleasanter to me. In the morning we worked with Dr. Randall; in the afternoon we always walked or rode--in either case, a visit to the "Rose and Crown" was an invariable part of the programme--and in the evening, after dinner, we were supposed to read until ten o'clock, although the manner in which we really spent that portion of the day was far less profitable.

I had intended paying a special visit to Miss Milly Hart on my own account; but either by accident or design--at the time I was not sure which--de Cartienne always seemed to frustrate my plans. Even to myself I would not acknowledge that I had any other motive save pure curiosity; but I was still determined by some means or other to see a photograph of the missing Mr. Hart. The strange disappearance of the one in the sitting-room at the inn--it had never been found--puzzled me, and whenever I caught myself thinking of the incident, it was always in connection with Leonard de Cartienne. It seemed very absurd, when I considered the matter calmly, but nevertheless I could not escape from it. It haunted me, as ideas sometimes will.

One afternoon, about two months after my arrival at Borden Towers, Cecil and I were reading together in the study--or, rather, I was endeavouring to encourage one of his rare fits of industry by helping him through a stiff page of Livy--when the door opened suddenly and de Cartienne entered with an open telegram in his hand. Seeing me, he stopped short and frowned.

"Hallo, Len! What's up?" Cecil exclaimed. "What have you got there? A telegram?"

De Cartienne nodded and, after a moment's hesitation, handed it over.

"It's from Fothergill," he explained. "He is coming over to-night, and wants us to dine with him."

"Should like to awfully," Cecil said, "but I don't see how we can. Old Grumps wouldn't let us go, of course, and I don't see how we can manage it without his knowing."

"Don't you? Well, I do," de Cartienne remarked drily. "Grumps is going over to Bels...o...b.. this evening to take the chair at the literary society there. He'll have to dine at six and leave at a quarter to seven. I know that, because I heard him give his orders. That will leave us plenty of time to get down into the town by eight o'clock; and we shall be all right for coming back, of course."

"That's capital!" declared Cecil, shutting up his Livy with a bang. "We will have our revenge on old Fothergill to-night. Just what I've been looking forward to."

De Cartienne shrugged his shoulders.