Second String Part 31

"That might be polite to you--in one sense; it might sound rather unjust to Harry," he answered.

"Am I the first person who has ever dared to make such an insinuation?

How shocking! But I've even dared to do it to Mr. Harry himself, and he hardly denied that he was an incorrigible flirt."

Andy knew that he was no match for her. For any advantage he could ever win from her, he must thank chance or surprise.

"Don't be so terribly strict, Mr. Hayes. If you were engaged, would you like every word--absolutely every word--you said to another girl to be repeated to your _fiancee_?"

Andy, always honest, considered. "Perhaps I shouldn't--and a few pretty speeches hurt n.o.body."

"Why, really you're becoming quite human! You encourage me to confess that Mr. Harry has made one or two to me--and I've not repeated them to Vivien. I'm relieved to find you don't think me a terrible sinner."

She was skilfully pressing for an indication of what he knew, of how much he had seen--without letting him, if he did know too much, have a chance of confronting her openly with his knowledge. Must he be considered in the game she was playing, or could he safely be neglected?

Andy's temper was rather tried. She talked of a few idle words, a few pretty speeches--ordinary gallantries. His memory was of two figures tense with pa.s.sion, and of a lover's kiss accepted as though by a willing lover.

"How far would you carry the doctrine?" he asked dryly.

There was a pause before she answered; she was shaping her reply so that it might produce the result she wanted--information, yet not confrontation with his possible knowledge.

"As far as a respectful kiss?" Peering through the darkness, she saw a quick movement of Andy's head. Instantly she added with a laugh, "On the hand, I mean, of course!"

"You won't ask me to go any further, if I admit that?" asked Andy.

"No. I'll agree with you on that," she said.

Mrs. Belfield suddenly woke up. "Yes, I'm sure Harry's looking pale,"

she remarked.

Isobel had got her information; she was sure now. The sudden movement of Andy's head had been too startled, too outraged, to have been elicited merely by an audacious suggestion put forward in discussion; it spoke of memories roused; it expressed wonder at shameless effrontery. Andy had revealed his knowledge, but he did not know that he had. He had parted with his secret; yet it had become no easier for him to meddle. If he had thought himself bound to say nothing, not to interfere, before, he would seem to himself so bound still. And if he tried to meddle, at least she would be fighting now with her eyes open. There might be danger--there could be no surprise.

When Harry Belfield put on her cloak for her in the hall, she whispered to him: "Take care of Andy Hayes! He did see us that first night."

Chapter XIV.

SAVING THE NATION.

On a fine afternoon Jack Rock stood smoking his pipe on the pavement of High Street. His back was towards the road, his face turned to his own shop-window, where was displayed a poster of such handsome dimensions that it covered nearly the whole of the plate gla.s.s, to the prejudice of Jack's usual display of mutton and beef. He took no account of that; he was surveying the intruding poster with enormous complacency. It announced that there would be held, under the auspices of the Meriton Conservative and Unionist a.s.sociation, an open-air Public Meeting that evening on Fyfold Green. Chairman--The Rt. Hon. Lord Meriton (his lordship was rarely "drawn;" his name indicated a great occasion).

Speakers--William Foot, Esq., K. C., M. P. (very large letters); Henry Belfield, Esq., Prospective Candidate etc. (letters not quite so large); and Andrew Hayes, Esq. (letters decidedly smaller, but still easily legible from across the street). Needless to say that it was the sight of the last name which caused Mr. Jack Rock's extreme complacency. He had put up the stakes; now he was telling himself that the "numbers"

were up for the race. Andy was in good company--too good, of course, for a colt like him on the present occasion; but in Jack's mind the race comprised more than one meeting. There was plenty of time for the colt to train on! Meanwhile there he was, on a platform with Lord Meriton, with Mr. Foot, King's Counsel, Member of Parliament (Jack's thoughts rehea.r.s.ed these t.i.tles--the former of which Billy had recently achieved--at full length, for all the world like the toastmaster at a public dinner), and Mr. Henry Belfield, Prospective Candidate etc. Mr.

Rock hurled at himself many contemptuous and opprobrious epithets when he recollected the career which he had once offered for the grateful acceptance of Andrew Hayes, Esq. To him the poster was a first and splendid dividend on the three thousand pounds which Miss Doris Flower had so prettily extracted from his pocket. Here was his return; he willingly left to Andy the mere pecuniary fruits of the investment.

Thus immensely gratified, Jack refused to own that he was surprised. The autumn campaign had now been in progress nearly three weeks, and, although Andy had not been heard before in Meriton, reports of his doings had come in from outlying villages with which Jack had business dealings. Nay, Mr. Belfield of Halton himself, who had braved the evening air by going to one meeting to hear his son, found time to stop at the shop and tell Jack that he had been favourably impressed by Andy.

"No flowers of rhetoric, Jack," he said with twinkling eyes, "such as my boy indulges in, but good sound sense--knows his facts. I shouldn't wonder if the labourers like that better. He knows what their bacon costs 'em, and how many loaves a week go to a family of six, and so on.

I heard one or two old fellows saying 'Aye, that's right!' half a dozen times while he was speaking. I wish our old friend at the grammar school could have heard him!"

"Yes, Mr. Belfield; the old gentleman would have been proud, wouldn't he?"

"And you've a right to be proud, Jack. I know what you've done for the lad."

"He's a good lad, sir. He comes to supper with me every Sunday, punctual, when he's in Meriton."

"You've every reason to hope he'll do very well--a sensible steady fellow! It'd be a good thing if there were more like him."

Then c.h.i.n.ks and the Bird had made an excursion on their bicycles to hear Andy, and brought back laudatory accounts--this though c.h.i.n.ks was suspected of Radical leanings, which he was not allowed by his firm to obtrude. And old c.o.x had heard him and p.r.o.nounced the verdict that, though he might be no flyer like Mr. Harry, yet he had the makings of a horse in him. "Wants work, and can stand as much as you give him," said Mr. c.o.x.

Immersed in a contemplation of the placard and in the reflections it evoked, Mr. Rock stepped backwards into the road in order to get a new view of the relative size of the lettering. Thereby he nearly lost his life, and made Andy present possessor of a tidy bit of money for which, in the natural course, he would have to wait many years. (This is trenching on old Jack's darling secret.) The agitated hoot of a motor-car sent him on a jump back to the pavement, just in time. The car came to a standstill.

"I didn't come all this way on purpose to kill you, Mr. Rock!"

Jack had turned round already, in order to swear at his all but murderer, who might reasonably have pleaded contributory negligence.

Angry words died away. A small figure, enveloped in a dust cloak, wrapped about the head with an infinite number of yards of soft fabric, sat alone in the back of the car. The driver yawned, surveying Meriton with a scornful air, appearing neither disturbed by Mr. Rock's danger nor gratified by his escape.

"It's so convenient," the small figure proceeded to observe, "when people have their names written over their houses. Still I think I should have known you without that. Andy has described you to me, you see."

"Why, it's never--?" The broadest smile spread on Jack Rock's face.

"Oh yes, it is! I always keep my word. I'm taking a holiday, and I thought I'd combine my visit to you with--" She suddenly broke off her sentence, and gave a gurgle. Jack thought it a curiously pleasant sound.

"Why, there it is!" the Nun gurgled, pointing a finger at the wonderful placard in Jack's window.

"You're--you're Miss Flower?" gasped Jack.

"Yes, yes--but look at it! Those three boys! Billy, and Harry--and Andy!

Andy! Well, of course, one knows they do do things, but somehow it's so hard to realise. I shall certainly stay for the meeting! Seymour, let me out!"

Seymour got down in a leisurely fashion, hiding a yawn with one hand and a cigarette in the other. "I suppose there isn't a hotel in this place, Miss Flower?" he remarked. (Seymour always called the Nun "Miss Flower,"

never merely "Miss.")

"Oh yes; the Lion, Seymour. Excellent hotel, isn't it, Mr. Rock? Kept by Mr. Dove, who's got a son named the Bird; and the Bird's got a friend named c.h.i.n.ks, and--"

"Well, you do beat creation!" cried Jack. "How do you--?"

"Secret sources of information!" said the Nun gravely. "Have I got to go to the Lion, Mr. Rock? Or--or what time do you have tea?"

"You'll have tea with me, miss?" cried Jack.

"At what hour will you require the car, Miss Flower?" asked Seymour.

"You're goin' to the meetin', miss? Tell the young chap to be round at six, and mind he's punctual."

"Do as Mr. Rock says, Seymour," smiled the Nun. It was part of the day's fun to hear Seymour ordered about--and called a young chap!--by the butcher of Meriton. But she could not get into the house without another look at the poster. "Billy, Harry--and Andy! I wonder if those boys really imagine that what they say or think matters!"

Miss Flower was already a privileged person. Jack had no rebuke for her profanity. She took his arm, saying,