Nell, of Shorne Mills Part 72

"Affable is the wrong word; it means condescension, doesn't it? And Lord Angleford was anything but condescending. He might have known me for years, if one judged by the tone of his voice and manner; and, as I said, I'm more than repaid."

"Well, I'm glad to hear he made a favorable impression on you," d.i.c.k said. "I haven't had the pleasure of making his acquaintance yet; but I shall probably see him before I go. But your success doesn't end here, Falconer. I'm told that you are going to play at Cleavemere Court. By George! if you knock them there as you did here--which, of course, you will do--your fortune's made. The d.u.c.h.ess has no end of influence, and you'll be paragraphed in the papers, and get engagements at the houses of other swells, and before we know where we are, we shall see 'Senor Falconer's Recitals at St. James' Hall,' advertised on the front page of the _Times_. And serve you right, old man, for if ever a man deserved good luck, it is you. Eh, Nell?"

"Yes, yes," said Nell.

"And did you see his lordship, our all-puissant earl, my child?"

"Yes," she said, beginning to tremble--but, indeed, she had been trembling all through the conversation. How should she be able to get away from the house--the place which belonged to Drake? "Yes, I saw him.

d.i.c.k, did a man--a man with a slight figure something like yours--pa.s.s you just before we came up?"

"No," he said.

"Are you sure? He must have pa.s.sed by you."

"A figure like mine, did you say? Yes; I'm quite sure he didn't. I have too keen an eye for grace of form to let such a figure pa.s.s unnoticed."

"It may have been a servant or one of the guests," Falconer said.

"Oh, draw it mild!" remonstrated d.i.c.k. "Do I look like a flunkey or a groom? What is it you think you have seen?"

"A man was standing looking in at one of the windows of the inner side of the wing," said Nell. "We thought it was you; but, when Mr. Falconer called, the man, whoever he was, turned and walked into the shrubbery."

"A 'particular friend' of one of the maids, I dare say," remarked d.i.c.k easily. "And I've no doubt you have broken up a very enjoyable spooning.

Now, would you like----Now what is it?"

For Nell had stopped short, and had seized his arm.

"There!" she exclaimed, in a whisper. "There he is again--that is the man!"

They had come to the lodge by this time, and Nell was gazing rather nervously toward the big gates.

"Where?" asked d.i.c.k. "I can see no one. Nell, you have had too much champagne. You'll be seeing snakes presently if you don't mind. Where is he?"

Nell laughed, but a little shakily.

"He has gone, of course. He went quickly through the gate."

"And why shouldn't he?" said d.i.c.k, with a yawn. "Oh, Falconer! when I think of the cool tankard into which I shall presently plunge my beak----What's come to you, Nell? It isn't like you to 'get the nerves.'"

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

The man whom Nell and Falconer had mistaken for d.i.c.k pa.s.sed through the lodge gates, and, turning to the right, walked quickly, but not hurriedly, beside the high park fencing, and presently came up with a dogcart which was being walked slowly along the road.

The cart was a very shabby one, but the horse was a very good one, and looked as if it could stretch itself if it were required to do so. In the cart was a young man in clerical attire. He looked like a curate, and his voice had the regulation drawl as he leaned down and asked:

"Well, Ted?"

The man addressed as Ted shook his head.

"The girl was right," he said, with an air of disappointment. "She's got 'em all on."

"Then it's no use trying it to-night," said the curate. "Perhaps a little later? It must be darkish for some time."

Ted shook his head again.

"No use! Too risky. It will be hours before they all go to bed and the house is quiet; the servants always keep it up after a big affair like this; some of 'em won't go to bed at all, perhaps. Besides, I was spotted just now."

The Parson, as he was called by the burgling fraternity, of which he and Ted were distinguished members, swore under his breath.

"How was that?" he asked.

"I was looking in at one of the windows of the servants' quarters, getting a word or two with the girl, when a couple of the swells came along. They saw me, and mistook me for some one by the name of d.i.c.k, and called to me. I walked off as quickly as I could, and I swear they didn't see my face, neither then nor just now, when, as luck would have it, they caught sight of me going out of the gates. They went into the lodge with the young fellow they'd mistaken me for."

The Parson swore again.

"What's to be done? Did you see the things?"

Ted nodded emphatically.

"Yes! They're the best swag I've ever seen. There's a fortune in them; and, if we had any luck, we might get a few more in addition."

"They'll be in the bank to-morrow," said the Parson gloomily. "These swells know how to take care of their jewelry, especially when they're family diamonds like these. We've lost our chance for the present, Ted.

Jump up."

But Ted shook his head.

"Not yet. The girl promised to meet me if she could, and I reckon she'll try to." He smiled and smoothed his mustache. "You drive on slowly and wait for me at the turn of the road. I'll come to you, say, in a quarter of an hour."

The dogcart went on, and Ted followed until he came to a small gate in the park fencing, and, opening this, he stood just inside it. His hand went to his pocket for his pipe, but, with the smoker's sigh, he dropped it back again, for he could not risk striking a match.

After he had been waiting there for a few minutes he heard footsteps and the rustle of a skirt among the undergrowth, and presently a woman stole out from the darkness, and, running up to the man, clutched his arm, panting and trembling with fear and excitement.

Now, when Lord and Lady Wolfer had started for the Continent, on the day of what may be called their reconciliation, Burden, her maid, had refused to go. She was a bad sailor, and hated what she called "foreign parts"; and she begged her mistress to leave her behind. Lady Wolfer, full of sympathy in her newly found happiness, had not only let the girl off, but had made her a handsome present, and given her an excellent written character.

Burden took a holiday, and went home to her people, who kept what is called a "sporting public" in the east of London.

Sport, like charity, is made to cover a lot of sins; and Burden, while a.s.sisting in the bar of the pub, made the acquaintance of several persons who were desirable neither in the matter of morals nor manners.

One of these was a good-looking young fellow who went by the name of Ted. He was supposed to be a watchmaker and jeweler by trade--a working jeweler--but he spent most of his time at the public which Burden now adorned, and though he certainly did not carry on his trade there, always appeared to have as much money as leisure.

Cupid, who seems to be indifferent to his surroundings, hovered about the smoky and beery regions of the Blue Pig, and very soon worked mischief between Burden and Ted.

He was pleasant spoken as well as good-looking, and had a free-and-easy way, was always ready with an order for the play or one of the music halls, and--in short, Burden fell in love with him. But when he asked her to marry him, Burden, who was a respectable girl, and, as Lady Wolfer's maid, had held a good position for one of her cla.s.s, began to make inquiries.