The Red Derelict Part 13

He was advancing towards her, evidently making for a gate that led into the ride of a wood. He had a rabbit rifle in his hand, the same weapon that had figured in the adventure. She was on her feet in a moment.

"Oh, Mr Wagram, how good of you!" she began in her impulsive way.

"Clytie has just had two orders--both through your recommendation."

"I am always pleased to be of use to anybody when it is within my power."

What was this? Had the very heavens fallen? His tone was icy. He had just formally touched her outstretched hand--no more than the barest courtesy demanded.

"It was very, very good of you all the same," she pursued lamely.

"Pray don't mention it," he replied, lifting his hat with a movement as though to resume his way, which she could not ignore.

She remounted her bicycle, and well, indeed, was it for her that the road was clear, as she whirled along mechanically with pale face and choking a sob in her throat. What did it mean? What had she done?

What could she have done? The G.o.d at whose shrine she worshipped was displeased--sorely and grievously displeased. Yet why, why? To this she could find no answer--no, none.

And the sunshine had gone out of the day.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

CONCERNING TWO CLAIMS.

"G.o.d bless my soul!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the old Squire in a startled tone. Then relapsing into mirth: "Is it meant for a joke?"

"What?" asked Wagram, who was engaged in the same occupation-- investigating letters which had just come by the afternoon post.

"This," said the Squire, handing across the letter he had been reading.

"Why, it's too comical. I never heard of such preposterous impudence in my life." And he began to pace up and down the hall.

Wagram took the letter, and the first glance down it was enough to make him thoroughly agree with his father, except that he felt moved to even greater anger. For the heading showed that it emanated from the office of Pownall and Skreet, Solicitors, Ba.s.singham, and its burden was to claim the sum of one thousand pounds damages "on behalf of our client, Miss Delia Calmour, by reason of certain severe bodily injuries received by her from a certain ferocious and dangerous animal, your property, suffered to be at large at such and such a time and place, the latter a public highway." And so on.

"Is it a joke, Wagram?" repeated the old Squire.

"If so, it's an uncommonly bad one," was the answer; "in fact, rotten.

No, I wouldn't have believed it of the girl--really, I wouldn't."

His father smiled slightly, but refrained from retorting: "What did I tell you?"

"And yet the other day," he pursued, "she came in among us all, and we treated her as one of ourselves. Yet all the time she was scheming a plan of vulgar and most outrageous blackmail."

"That's the worst part of it," said Wagram with some bitterness. "See what comes of thinking oneself too knowing. I could have sworn the girl was a good girl and honest; she had honest eyes."

"Honest! You can't mention the word in connection with that low-down, scheming, blackmailing brood."

"Well, there you have me, father, I admit," answered Wagram. "You advised me against them, and I took my own line. I sing small."

"Oh, that's no matter. The question is: What are we going to do? Take no notice?"

"I should send her the money."

"What! Why, Wagram, it's preposterous. Why, on your own showing the girl wasn't hurt at all. A thousand pounds?"

"Still, I should send it. We shouldn't feel it. I expect these people are in desperate straits, and I've known that enviable condition myself."

"Send it? Great heavens, Wagram! A thousand pounds for that old sot to soak on?"

"No, no. Send it so that n.o.body has the handling of it but the girl herself. She behaved very pluckily, remember. I'm almost sure she saved my life."

"Yes; but if you hadn't come to her rescue it wouldn't have been in danger, as I said before," replied the Squire somewhat testily.

"Well, perhaps not; but the situation was inevitable. I couldn't slink away and leave her to be hacked to death by the brute."

"All right. I'll leave it to you, Wagram. Do as you think fit."

"Very well," was the answer as he busied himself again with his letters.

Then he repressed a quick whistle of astonishment.

"Pownall and Skreet again. Another thousand pounds!" he mentally e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. And, in fact, it was just that; and this time the claim was made on himself on behalf of "our client, Mr Robert Calmour, by reason of injuries sustained in the unprovoked savage and brutal a.s.sault committed by you upon him, on the public highway," at such and such a time and place.

"Pownall and Skreet are having a merry innings," he thought to himself; and then he laughed, for a recollection of the said Mr Robert Calmour's frantic rebound from the gate when that worthy first came in contact with the ground-ash rushed overwhelmingly upon him. But astonishment underlay. So that was the ident.i.ty of the fellow he had thrashed!

Could it be Delia's brother? Why, it must be; and then he remembered the running epitome as to their family and its habits which Clytie had given him on the occasion of his call at Siege House. Well, the Calmours were on the war-path this time, and no mistake.

"What's the joke, Wagram?" said the old Squire, who was looking out of the window and had his back turned.

"Something reminded me of the cad I whacked the other day, and it was funny." He decided not to let his father into a knowledge of this other impudent demand. It he would know how to deal with himself. "Who are Pownall and Skreet?"

"Two rascally solicitors in Ba.s.singham."

"All right. You've left it to me now, father. Don't you worry any more about the affair; it's out of your hands."

"Oh, I shan't bother about it."

Soon after Wagram took up the rabbit rifle and strolled forth to try a long-distance shot or two; but his mind was full of the demand they had just received--that on behalf of Delia: to Bob's affair he did not give a further thought. He had felt interested in the girl; had thought to discern a great deal of good in her; had even been wondering what he could do to help her. He owned himself astonished--astonished and disgusted. Had it been the other the result would not have surprised him. Looking back, too, he thought to discern a potential slyness beneath Clytie's open ingenuousness; but as to this one he was disappointed.

Then he remembered that he had, in a way, taken her up, and through him Haldane. She was no fit companion for Yvonne, and at this thought his disgust deepened. Well, it would be easy to let Haldane judge for himself, and at sight of the lawyer's letter he knew what Haldane's judgment would be. Then, too, he recalled her demeanour on the occasion of last week's solemnity: how she had affected an interest in it, and so on. All acting, of course; possibly due to the acquiring of a cheap honour and glory among her own set as having been seen among the party at Hilversea Court. Innately very much of a misogynist, Wagram's bitterness in a matter of this kind needed no spur, no stimulant. He felt very bitter towards this girl with the straightforward eyes and appealing ways who had so effectually bamboozled him. It was no question of the amount--that, as he had said, they would not feel--it was the way in which the thing had been done. And, having arrived at this conclusion, he looked up, and there, skimming towards him on her bicycle, was the object of his cogitations. The method of that brief interview we know.

Thereafter Wagram resumed his way. It was only natural, he argued, that she should affect ignorance, utter innocence, as to what had transpired.

Another bit of acting. He hoped he had not been manifestly discourteous, but he could not have trusted himself to prolong the meeting. Now he would dismiss the matter from his mind. He had made a grievous error of judgment, and when the affair became known he would become something of a laughing-stock. For that, however, he cared nothing.

Delia, for her part, felt as if she had just received a blow on the head as she wheeled homeward in a semi-dazed condition. The sight of Bob in the doorway--Bob, perky, expansive, more raffish than usual--did not tend to soothe her either.

"Hullo! What's the row?" he cried as she pushed past him. "You're looking like a boiled owl. Too much of Haldane's champagne, eh?" For he delighted to tease Delia, did this amiable youth; she was putting on too much side of late, and wanted taking down a peg, he declared. With Clytie he had to mind his P's and Q's, as we have seen. Now the latter appeared to the rescue.

"Clear out, Bob," she said. "What a young cur you are! A jolly good licking would do you all the good in the world, and I wonder every day that someone or other doesn't give you one; only I suppose you keep your currishness for us."

"Oh, do you?" snarled Bob, in whom the words awoke a perfectly agonising recollection. "Who the deuce cares what you think or don't think?" he added, the sting of the allusion rendering him oblivious of the five shillings he had been intending to "borrow" from the--for the present-- earning one of the family. Besides, he would be flush enough directly, then he would be in a position to round upon Clytie for the domineering way in which she had been treating him of late. When he got his thousand pounds, or even half of it, he had a good mind to chuck his berth with Pownall and Skreet and clear off to South Africa, or somewhere, and make his fortune. When he got it!