The Talleyrand Maxim Part 12

Collingwood went away with that last intimation warm in his memory. He had an idea that the girl meant what she said--and for a moment he was sorry that he was going to India. He might have settled down at Barford there and then, and--but at that he laughed at himself.

"A young woman with several thousands a year of her own!" he said. "Of course, she'll marry some big pot in the county. They feel a little lonely, those two, just now, because everything's new to them, and they're new to their changed circ.u.mstances. But when I get back--ah!--I guess they'll have got plenty of people around them."

And he determined, being a young man of sense, not to think any more--for already he had thought a good deal of Nesta Mallathorpe, until he returned from his Indian travels. Let him attend to his business, and leave possibilities until they came nearer.

"All the same." he mused, as he drew near the town again, "I'm pretty sure I shall come back here next spring--I feel like it."

He called in at Eldrick's office on his way to the hotel, to take some doc.u.ments which had been preparing for him. It was then late in the afternoon, and no one but Pratt was there--Pratt, indeed, had been waiting until Collingwood called.

"Going back to town, Mr. Collingwood?" asked Pratt as he handed over a big envelope. "When shall we have the pleasure of seeing you again, sir?"

Something in the clerk's tone made Collingwood think--he could not tell why--that Pratt was fishing for information. And--also for reasons which he could not explain--Collingwood had taken a curious dislike to Pratt, and was not inclined to give him any confidence.

"I don't know," he answered, a little icily. "I am leaving for India next week."

He bade the clerk a formal farewell and went off, and Pratt locked the office door and slowly followed him downstairs.

"To India!" he said to himself, watching the young barrister's retreating figure. "To India, eh? For a time--or for--what?"

Anyway, that was good news, Pratt had seen in Collingwood a possible rival.

CHAPTER X

THE FOOT-BRIDGE

Collingwood's return to London was made on a Friday evening: next day he began the final preparations for his departure to India on the following Thursday. He was looking forward to his journey and his stay in India with keen expectation. He would have the society of a particularly clever and brilliant man; they were to break their journey in Italy and in Egypt; he would enjoy exceptional facilities for seeing the native life of India; he would gain valuable experience. It was a chance at which any young man would have jumped, and Collingwood had been greatly envied when it was known that Sir John Standridge had offered it to him.

And yet he was conscious that if he could have done precisely what he desired, he would have stayed longer at Barford, in order to see more of Nesta Mallathorpe. Already it seemed a long time to the coming spring, when he would be back--and free to go North again.

But Collingwood was fated to go North once more much sooner than he had dreamed of. As he sat at breakfast in his rooms on the Monday morning after his departure from Barford, turning over his newspaper with no particular aim or interest, his attention was suddenly and sharply arrested by a headline. Even that headline might not have led him to read what lay beneath. But in the same instant in which he saw it he also saw a name--Mallathorpe. In the next he knew that heavy trouble had fallen on Normandale Grange, the very day after he had left it.

This is what Collingwood read as he sat, coffee-cup in one hand, newspaper in the other--staring at the lines of unleaded type:

TRAGIC FATE OF YOUNG YORKSHIRE SQUIRE

"A fatal accident, of a particularly sad and disturbing nature, occurred near Barford, Yorkshire, on Sat.u.r.day. About four o'clock on Sat.u.r.day afternoon, Mr. Linford Pratt, managing clerk to Messrs. Eldrick & Pascoe, Solicitors, of Barford, who was crossing the grounds of Normandale Grange on his way to a business appointment, discovered the dead body of Mr. H. J.

Mallathorpe, the owner of the Normandale Estate, lying in a roadway which at that point is spanned, forty feet above, by a narrow foot-bridge. The latter is an ancient construction of wood, and there is no doubt that it was in extremely bad repair, and had given way when the unfortunate young gentleman, who was out shooting in his park, stepped upon it. Mr. Mallathorpe, who was only twenty-four years of age, succeeded to the Normandale estates, one of the finest properties in the neighbourhood of Barford, about two years ago, under somewhat romantic--and also tragic--circ.u.mstances, their previous owner, his uncle, Mr. John Mallathorpe, a well-known Barford manufacturer, meeting a sudden death by the falling of his mill chimney--a catastrophe which also caused the deaths of several of his employees. Mr. John Mallathorpe died intestate, and the estate at Normandale pa.s.sed to the young gentleman who met such a sad fate on Sat.u.r.day afternoon. Mr. H.J. Mallathorpe was unmarried, and it is understood that Normandale (which includes the village of that name, the advowson of the living, and about four thousand acres of land) now becomes the property of his sister, Miss Nesta Mallathorpe."

Collingwood set down his cup, and dropped the newspaper. He was but half way through his breakfast, but all his appet.i.te had vanished. All that he was conscious of was that here was trouble and grief for a girl in whom--it was useless to deny it--he had already begun to take a warm interest. And suddenly he started from his chair and s.n.a.t.c.hed up a railway guide. As he turned over its pages, he thought rapidly. The preparations for his journey to India were almost finished--what was not done he could do in a few hours. He had no further appointment with Sir John Standridge until nine o'clock on Thursday morning, when he was to meet him at the train for Dover and Paris. Monday--Tuesday--Wednesday--he had three days--ample time to hurry down to Normandale, to do what he could to help there, and to get back in time to make his own last arrangements. He glanced at his watch--he had forty minutes in which to catch an express from King's Cross to Barford. Without further delay he picked up a suit-case which was already packed and set out for the station.

He was in Barford soon after two o'clock--in Eldrick's office by half-past two. Eldrick shook his head at sight of him.

"I can guess what's brought you down, Collingwood," he said. "Good of you, of course--I don't think they've many friends out there."

"I can scarcely call myself that--yet," answered Collingwood. "But--I thought I might be of some use. I'll drive out there presently. But first--how was it?"

Eldrick shook his head.

"Don't know much more than what the papers say," he answered. "There's an old foot-bridge there that spans a road in the park--road cut through a ravine. They say it was absolutely rotten, and the poor chap's weight was evidently too much for it. And there was a drop of forty feet into a hard road. Extraordinary thing that n.o.body on the estate seems to have known of the dangerous condition of that bridge!--but they say it was little used--simply a link between one plantation and another.

However;--it's done, now. Our clerk--Pratt, you know--found the body.

Hadn't been dead five minutes, Pratt says."

"What was Pratt doing there?" asked Collingwood.

"Oh, business of his own," replied Eldrick. "Not ours. There was an advertis.e.m.e.nt in Sat.u.r.day's papers which set out that a steward was wanted for the Normandale estate, and Pratt mentioned it to me in the morning that he thought of applying for the job if we'd give him a good testimonial. I suppose he'd gone out there to see about the preliminaries. Anyway, he was walking through the park when he found young Mallathorpe's body. I understand he made himself very useful, too, and I've sent him out there again today, to do anything he can--smart chap, Pratt!"

"Possibly, then, there is nothing I can do," remarked Collingwood.

"I should say you'll do a lot by merely going there," answered Eldrick.

"As I said just now, they've few friends, and no relations, and I hear that Mrs. Mallathorpe is absolutely knocked over. Go, by all means--a bit of sympathy goes a long way on these occasions. I say!--what a regular transformation an affair of this sort produces. Do you know, that young fellow, just like his uncle, had not made any will! Fact!--I had it from Robson, their solicitor, this very morning. The whole of the estate comes to the sister, of course--she and the mother will share the personal property. By that lad's death, Nesta Mallathorpe becomes one of the wealthiest young women in Yorkshire!"

Collingwood made no reply to this communication. But as he drove off to Normandale Grange, it was fresh in his mind. And it was not very pleasant to him. One of the wealthiest young women in Yorkshire!--and he was already realizing that he would like to make Nesta Mallathorpe his wife: it was because he felt what he did for her that he had rushed down to do anything he could that would be of help. Supposing--only supposing--that people--anybody--said that he was fortune-hunting!

Somewhat unduly sensitive, proud, almost to a fault, he felt his cheek redden at the thought, and for a moment he wished that old John Mallathorpe's wealth had never pa.s.sed to his niece. But then he sneered at himself for his presumption.

"a.s.s!" he said. "She's never even thought of me--in that way, most likely! Anyway, I'm a stupid fool for thinking of these things at present."

But he knew, within a few minutes of entering the big, desolate-looking house, that Nesta had been thinking of him. She came to him in the room where they had first met, and quietly gave him her hand.

"I was not surprised when they told me you were here," she said. "I was thinking about you--or, rather, expecting to hear from you."

"I came at once," answered Collingwood, who had kept her hand in his.

"I--well, I couldn't stop away. I thought, perhaps, I could do something--be of some use."

"It's a great deal of use to have just--come," she said. "Thank you!

But--I suppose you'll have to go?"

"Not for two days, anyway," he replied. "What can I do?"

"I don't know that you can actually do anything," she answered.

"Everything is being done. Mr. Eldrick sent his clerk, Mr. Pratt--who found Harper--he's been most kind and useful. He--and our own solicitor--are making all arrangements. There's got to be an inquest.

No--I don't know that you can do actual things. But--while you're here--you can look in when you like. My mother is very ill--she has scarcely spoken since Sat.u.r.day."

"I'll tell you what I will do," said Collingwood determinedly. "I noticed in coming through the village just now that there's quite a decent inn there. I'll go down and arrange to stay there until Wednesday evening--then I shall be close by--if you should need me."

He saw by her look of quick appreciation and relief that this suggestion pleased her. She pressed his hand and withdrew her own. "Thank you again!" she said. "Do you know--I can't quite explain--I should be glad if you were close at hand? Everybody has been very kind--but I do feel that there is n.o.body I can talk to. If you arrange this, will you come in again this evening?"

"I shall arrange it," answered Collingwood. "I'll see to it now. Tell your people I am to be brought in whenever I call. And--I'll be close by whenever you want me."

It seemed little to say, little to do, but he left her feeling that he was being of some use. And as he went off to make his arrangements at the inn he encountered Pratt, who was talking to the butler in the outer hall.

The clerk looked at Collingwood with an unconcern and a composure which he was able to a.s.sume because he had already heard of his presence in the house. Inwardly, he was malignantly angry that the young barrister was there, but his voice was suave, and polite enough when he spoke.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Collingwood," he said quietly. "Very sad occasion on which we meet again, sir. Come to offer your sympathy, Mr.

Collingwood, of course--very kind of you."