'Does Theo mean to leave Stanyon?' asked Miss Morville quickly.
'Why, yes!' answered the Earl. 'My affairs, you know, cannot be for ever left at a stand! He returns to Evesleigh tomorrow. Now, if only I could prevail upon Lucy to go to London—not that I wish to appear inhospitable —'
'Spare your breath!' recommended Ulverston. 'If he were not assured that I have no intention of leaving Stanyon at this present, your cousin would not stir from here, let me tell you!'
'You have both told me so, and I have nothing to do but to reply that you are very welcome—if mistaken!'
'That,' said the Viscount, 'we shall see, Ger!'
CHAPTER 19
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The Viscount was not the only person to look askance upon Martin's new valet. Turvey, when he undressed his master that evening, informed him that the Castle had a fresh inmate. His tone contrived to convey the additional information that Mr. Leek was scarcely the type of man with whom he was in the habit of associating. 'If I may venture to say so, my lord, a strange Individual for Mr. Martin to take into his service. Very different from Studley, who, although scarcely conforming to Our standards, I have always found to be a most respectable person. Besides having quite a Way with Mr. Martin's boots,' he added, as one giving honour where it was due. 'Of course, my lord, the same results as We achieve are not to be obtained, as I had occasion to tell him, through the use of mere blacking; but when one takes into account the very meagre means at his disposal he did very well—very well indeed! It is to be hoped Mr. Martin will not be disappointed in his new man. More I will not say.'
'Whatever else I may believe, that I do not!' said the Earl.
'I hope, my lord,' said Turvey, skilfully rolling the bandage he had removed from about the Earl's chest and shoulder, 'that I am not one to cast aspersions upon others; and if Studley's sudden removal from the Castle strikes me as being a peculiar circumstance, I am sure I should prefer to keep my reflections to myself, were I not deeply concerned with your lordship's welfare.'
'Thank you. I collect that Studley has gone to visit his father.'
'Yes, my lord—his ailing father,' said Turvey, dusting basilicum-powder over the healing wound. 'Very proper, I am sure—though how he became aware that his parent was in poor health I do not know. I fancy, my lord, that Dr. Malpas cannot but be pleased with the condition of your wound. If your lordship would be so obliging as to raise your left arm a trifle, I will replace the bandages!'
The Earl complied with this request, but he said: 'Out with it! What are you trying to tell me, Turvey? Do you suspect that Studley has no father?'
'On that head, my lord, I have no information, and shall keep an open mind. I was merely curious to know how the news of his parent's indisposition reached Studley.'
'Possibly through the medium of the post. Not too tight, if you please!'
Turvey slackened the bandage. 'I beg your lordship's pardon! I should myself have supposed that Studley must have received a letter from his parent were it not for the fact that when Chard rode to Grantham for the paregoric draught recommended by the doctor, he called at the receiving-office, and brought back to the Castle such letters as were there. There were only two, my lord: one for her ladyship, and one for the housekeeper. I trust the bandage is not now too tight?'
'Thank you, no. It is possible, you know, that, having been turned off by Mr. Martin, Studley sought for an excuse to explain his sudden departure. He might not wish it to be known that he had been dismissed.'
Turvey bowed slightly. 'Very understandable, I am sure, my lord. Particularly if he thought that no one would have believed it. I am told that Studley has been with Mr. Martin ever since he was a boy. Yes, my lord: remarkably attached to him, I am informed.' He then helped the Earl to put oh his night-shirt, and turned to pull back the bedclothes. 'Your lordship might desire me, before I myself retire to rest in the dressing-room, to turn the key in the lock of this door. Mr. Martin's new man—doubtless bewildered by the many galleries and corridors in the Castle, and anxious to acquaint himself with his surroundings—has, if I may say so, a tendency to prowl. Would your lordship care to have a pillow under the left shoulder?'
'No, thank you,' Gervase replied, stretching himself out in the huge bed. 'Nor should I care to have my door locked. Where does he prowl?'
'That, my lord, I am not in a position to say,' said Turvey, tucking in the blankets. 'One of the two occasions when I encountered him, he appeared to be acquainting himself with the bedchambers opening on to this gallery. He explained to me that he was trying to find Mr. Martin's room. Is there anything further I can do for your lordship?'
'Only one thing! Do not alarm the Servants' Hall with this story!'
'Your lordship need feel no apprehension. I should think it most improper to impart my reflections to any but your lordship,' responded Turvey, with hauteur. 'It would be idle to deny, however, that a good deal of comment has been provoked amongst the staff, no one being able to understand what should have prevailed upon Mr. Martin to have hired this Leek. I need scarcely say that I have discouraged all attempts to discover what may be my opinion. I shall continue to do so. Good-night, my lord!'
He then withdrew to the adjoining room, leaving the Earl to digest his sinister tidings.
Upon the following morning, Theo took his leave of his cousin, saying, with his slight smile: 'You are so well- guarded I may abandon you with a quiet mind! Don't overtax your strength! Ulverston, I rely upon you to remember you are under oath to send me word if—if Gervase should suffer a relapse!'
'Ay, you may depend upon me!' the Viscount said. 'As for relapses—pooh! If you had ever campaigned with Ger, you would know he has a stronger constitution than any of us!'
He repeated this observation when, later in the day, Miss Morville tried to dissuade her patient from emerging from the seclusion of his own bedchamber. Her efforts were quite unsuccessful, and the Viscount told her privately that she was wasting her time. 'All you'll get is a soft answer, ma'am. Never knew such an obstinate fellow as Ger! He don't look it, and the lord knows he don't sound it, but don't you let him humbug you! Besides, it won't hurt him, y'know. Wouldn't think it to look at him, but the time he got that nasty slash on his arm he had it stitched up, and never told a man-jack of us how bad it was.'
'I was not thinking so much of that,' confessed Miss Morville. 'It may be foolish of me, but while he is confined to his room it must surely be impossible for anyone to hurt him!'
'He ain't going to be hurt,' said the Viscount confidently. 'Best thing now would be for an attempt to be made on him. Can't leave the thing as it is, y'know! Got to catch our fine gentleman red-handed, ma'am. Now, you ain't the blabbing sort, so I'll tell you this: young Martin can't stir an inch without having Chard on his heels! Good man, Chard!'
'Good God! Is he spying on Martin? Does Martin know it?'
'Lord, no! No one knows it but Chard and me!' said the Viscount. 'Except you, of course. The thing is, I can't watch Martin, and it must be plain to everyone but dear old Ger that someone ought to. So I set Chard on to it. Good notion, don't you think?'
'Excellent!' said Miss Morville, in rather a hollow voice.
'You see,' explained his lordship kindly, it won't do to let the thing alone. Only let Martin try to do Ger a mischief
'Yes, but—' She stopped, and closed her lips firmly on some unexpressed thought.
The Viscount, tolerant of feminine weakness, advised her to put it out of her mind. Miss Morville, after a short struggle with herself, again refrained from speech.
The Earl left his room some time after noon. His toilet had occupied him for longer than was usual, since he was obliged to move his left arm with caution, and refused to abate one jot of his meticulous neatness. He bore with patience such suggestions from Turvey as that he should make his appearance in his dressing-gown; but when the valet went so far as to beg him to leave the arrangement of his cravat in his hands, patience failed, and he spoke softly but so very much to the point that it needed only a look from him, some minutes later, to dissuade Turvey from offering to escort him to whichever of the saloons he chose to sit in.
Leaving his henchman the personification of cold disapproval, he strolled down the gallery in the direction of the Grand Stairway. As he approached the door which led to the stair up which Martin had told him he had come, on the night of the storm, it opened, and a portly man, dressed in an ill-fitting suit of black clothes, peeped into the
