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"Oh, dash it all! Can nothing be done to stop it?"
"Much, I hope. Tell Howard what you know, and he will start for the Continent at once to verify it. Meanwhile, may I invite a friend to come here tomorrow?"
"Need you ask? We can put up six more at a pinch. But I can't get over Montecastello's infernal impertinence. Yet, it's fully in accordance with Italian standards of right and wrong. Your young count or princeling can live like a pig until matrimony crops up. Then he becomes mighty particular. The bride must bring not only her dowry, but an unblemished record as well. I suppose, in the long run, it is a wise thing. Were it not for some such proviso, half the aristocracy of Europe would disappear in two generations."
Power pa.s.sed no comment; but he sent the following letter by the night post:
"Dear Mr. Lindsay.--Miss Nancy Marten, who is staying at Valescure Castle, near this house, has honored me by asking my advice and help in a matter that concerns herself and you. She has done this because I am her friend, and was her mother's friend years ago in Colorado. Can you get leave from your regiment for a few days, and come here? I believe you army men can plead urgent private affairs, and there is little doubt as to the urgency and privacy of this request. I make one stipulation. You are not to communicate with Miss Nancy Marten until you have seen me.
"Sincerely yours, "JOHN DARIEN POWER."
He pa.s.sed a troubled and sleepless night. Dacre's careless if heated words had sunk deep. They chimed in oddly with a thought that was not to be stilled, a thought that had its genesis in a faded letter written twenty years ago.
When Howard went to London next day he took with him a cablegram, part in code and part in plain English. It's text was of a peculiarity that forbade the use of a village postoffice; for it ran, when decoded:
"MacGonigal, Bison, Colorado.--Break open the locked upper right-hand drawer of the j.a.panese cabinet in sitting-room, Dolores, and send immediately by registered mail the long sealed envelop marked 'To be burnt, unopened, by my executors,' and signed by me."
Then followed Power's code signature and his address.
A telegram arrived early. It read:
"Will be with you 4.30 today. LINDSAY."
So the witches' caldron was a-boil, and none might tell what strange brew it would produce.
Lindsay came. Nancy had described him aptly. The British army seems to turn out a certain type of tall, straight, clean-limbed, and clear-eyed young officer as though he were cast in a mold. Power appraised him rightly at the first glance--a gentleman, who held honor dear and life cheap, a man of high lineage and honest mind, a Scot with a fox-hunting strain in him, a youngster who would put his horse at a shire fence or lead his company in a forlorn hope with equal nonchalance and determination--not, perhaps, markedly intellectual, but a direct descendant of a long line of cavaliers whose all-sufficing motto was, "G.o.d, and the King."
The two had a protracted discussion. Power felt that he must win this somewhat reserved wooer's confidence before he broached the astounding project he had formed.
"I take it," he said, at last, seeing that Lindsay was convinced he meant well to Nancy, "I take it Lord Colonsay cannot supplement the small allowance he now makes you?"
"No. It's not to be thought of. Scottish estates grow poorer every decade. Even now Dad makes no pretense of supporting a t.i.tle. He lives very quietly, and is hard put to it to give me a couple of hundred a year."
"Then I can't see how you can expect to marry the daughter of a very rich man like Hugh Marten."
"Heaven help me, neither do I!"
"Yet you have contrived to fall in love with her?"
"That was beyond my control. She has told you what happened. I fought hard against what the world calls a piece of folly. I--avoided her.
There is, there can be, no sort of engagement between us, unless----"
"Unless what?"
"Oh, it is a stupid thing to say, but you American millionaires do occasionally get hipped by the other fellow. If Marten came a cropper, I'd have my chance."
Power laughed quietly. "You are a true Briton," he said. "You think there is no security for money except in trustee stocks. Well, I won't disturb your faith. Now, I want you to call on Mr. Marten tomorrow and ask him formally for his daughter's hand."
"Then the fat _will_ be in the fire." Evidently, Philip and Nancy were well mated.
"Possibly; but it is the proper thing to do."
"But, Mr. Power, you can't have considered your suggestion fully.
Suppose Mr. Marten even condescends to listen? His first question floors me. I have my pay and two hundred a year. I don't know a great deal about the cost of ladies' clothes, but I rather imagine my little lot would about buy Nancy's hats."
"In this changeable climate she would certainly catch a severe cold. But you are going to tell Mr. Marten that the day you and Nancy sign a marriage contract your father will settle half a million sterling on you, and half a million on Nancy. So the fat spilled in the fire should cause a really fine flare-up."
Military training confers calmness and self-control in an emergency; but the Honorable Philip Lindsay obviously thought that his new friend had suddenly gone mad.
"I really thought you understood the position," he began again laboriously. "I haven't gone into the calculation, but I should say, offhand, that our place in Scotland wouldn't yield half a million potatoes."
"To speak plainly, then, I mean to give you the money; but it must come through the Earl of Colonsay. Further, if Marten hums and haws about the amount, ascertain what sum will satisfy him. A million between you, in hard cash, ought to suffice, because Marten has many millions of his own."
Lindsay could not choose but believe; for Power had an extra measure of the faculty of convincing his fellow-men. He stammered, almost dumfounded:
"You make a most generous offer, an amazingly generous one. You almost deprive me of words. But I must ask--why?"
"Because, had life been kinder, Nancy would have been my daughter and not Marten's. Yours is a proper question, and I have answered it; so I hope you will leave my explanation just where it stands. I mean to enlighten you more fully in one respect. Your host, Mr. Dacre, is a well-known man, and you will probably accept what he says as correct.
After dinner I shall ask him to tell you that I can provide a million sterling on any given date without difficulty."
"Mad as it sounds, Mr. Power, I believe you implicitly."
"You must get rid of that habit where money is concerned. If you appease Mr. Marten, you will have control of a great sum, and you should learn at the outset to take no man's unsupported word regarding its disposal or investment."
Lindsay went to his room with the manner of a man walking on air.
Nothing that he had ever heard or read compared in any degree with the fantastic events of the last hour. He could not help accepting Power's statement; yet every lesson of life combated its credibility. It is not surprising, therefore, that he should be nervous and distrait when he reappeared; but Dacre soon put him at ease.
"Power has been telling me how he took your breath away, Mr. Lindsay,"
he said. "But that is a way he has. When you and he are better acquainted you will cease to marvel at anything he says, or does. On this one point, however, I want to speak quite emphatically. Mr. Power is certainly in a position to give you a million pounds if he chooses, and, bearing in mind the history of his early life, and the high esteem in which he held Nancy Marten's mother, I can sympathize with and appreciate the motives which inspire his present effort to secure that young lady's happy marriage."
But this incident is set down here merely to show how Power tried to make smooth the way by using his wealth. He himself placed no reliance in its efficacy. Lindsay went to Valescure Castle in high feather; but came back angered and perplexed. Marten had listened politely. There was not the least semblance of annoyance in his manner. He simply dismissed the suitor with quiet civility. When Lindsay, stung to protest, raised the question of finances, the other heard him out patiently.
"In different conditions I might have been inclined to consider your claim," he said, when Lindsay had made an end. "Allow me to congratulate you on your position, which renders you a suitable _parti_ for almost any alliance--except with my daughter. No, believe me, my decision is final," for he could not know how ironical was his compliment, and took the young man's uneasy gesture as heralding a renewal of the argument.
"Miss Marten is pledged elsewhere. She will marry Prince Montecastello."
"I have reason to know, sir, that the gentleman you have mentioned is utterly distasteful to Nancy," broke in the other.
Marten's face darkened; he lost some of his suave manner. "Have you been carrying on a clandestine courtship with my daughter?" he asked.
"No. A man bearing my name has no reason to shun daylight. That I have not sought your sanction earlier is due to the fact that I did not dream of marrying Nancy until a stroke of good fortune enabled me to come to you almost on an equal footing. Perhaps I have put that awkwardly, but my very anxiety clogs my tongue. Nancy and I love each other. She hates this Italian. Surely that is a good reason why you, her father, should not rule me out of court so positively."
Marten rose and touched an electric bell. It jarred in some neighboring pa.s.sage, and rang the knell of Lindsay's hopes.
"I think we understand each other," he said, with chilling indifference.
"My answer is no, Mr. Lindsay, and I look to you, as a man of honor, not to see or write to my daughter again."
Now, it is not in the Celtic nature to brook such an undeservedly contemptuous dismissal; but Power had counseled his protege to keep his temper, whatever happened. Still, he could not leave Marten in the belief that his stipulation was accepted.