April Lady

She sank down on the sofa, wavering between tears and laughter. “Oh, how stupid I have been! I thought—Oh, never mind that! Dy, has the luck changed at last? Tell me how it was! Where have you been? How—Oh, tell me everything!”

“Chester, for the King’s Plate,” he replied, eyeing her uneasily. She seemed to him to be in queer stirrups, and he was just about to ask her if she felt quite the thing when a happy explanation occurred to him. “I say, Nell, you haven’t sprained your ankle, have you?” he demanded, grinning at her.

“Sprained my ankle? No!” she answered, a good deal surprised.

“What I mean is—in the family way?”

She shook her head, colouring. “No,” she said sadly.

“Oh! Thought that must be it.” He saw that her face was downcast, and said bracingly: “No need to be moped! Plenty of time yet before you need think of setting up your nursery. I shouldn’t wonder at it if you were like Mama.”

“Yes, that is what she thinks, but—Oh, never mind that! Tell me how this all came about!”

He sat down beside her. “Lord, it was the oddest thing! A fifteen to one chance, Nell! And I’d no more notion of laying my blunt on it than the man in the moon! Well, I didn’t know the horse existed, and as for backing it—! Anyone would have laid you odds there was only one horse entered that could beat Firebrand, and that was Milksop. But what do you think happened to me?” She shook her head wonderingly, and he gave a chuckle. “Sort of thing that only comes to a man once in a lifetime. It was on Saturday night that it started. I thought I might take a look-in at the—well, it don’t signify telling you the name of the place: you wouldn’t know it! It’s a club I go to now and again. Anyway, I called for a tankard there, drank it off, and damme if there wasn’t a great cockroach in the pot!”

“Ugh!” exclaiming Nell, shuddering.

“Yes, I didn’t like it above half myself,” agreed the Viscount. “But the queer thing about it was that it wasn’t dead! Seemed a bit lushy when I tipped it out on to the table, but, dash it, what could you expect? It got quite lively after a while, and so we matched it against a spider that—a friend of mine—picked off its web.”

“Cockroaches and spiders?” interrupted Nell, aghast.

“Oh, lord, yes: dozens of ‘em! The place is full of them!”

“But, Dysart, how very shocking! It must be a sadly dirty house!”

“Yes, I expect it is,” he agreed. “In fact, I know it is, but that don’t signify! The thing is, most of the company fancied the spider. Well, I did myself, to tell you the truth, for it was a stout-looking runner, with a set of capital legs to it. I didn’t back it, of course, because the cockroach was my entry, but I never thought to see the cockroach win.”

“And it did?” Nell asked anxiously.

“Won by half the length of the course!” said the Viscount. “That was the table. We had ‘em lined up, and I must say I thought my entry was still a trifle bosky, and I daresay he was, but no sooner did I give him the office —with a fork—than off he went, in a fine burst, straight down the course for the winning-post! Mind you, the spider had it in him to beat him: devilish good mover, I give you my word! The trouble with him was that he was a refuser. If he didn’t fold his legs up under him, he went dashing off in circles. Now, young Johnny Cockroach jibbed a trifle, but every time I used my persuader on him, off he went again at a slapping pace, and always straight ahead! You wouldn’t have thought, to look at him, that he was such a good mover. A daisy-cutter, is what I thought, and so he was, but a regular Trojan, for all that!”

“Oh, Dy, how absurd you are!” Nell exclaimed, laughing. “And you won all that money on the creature?”

“No, no, of course I didn’t! That was only funning! I didn’t win much more than a pony on him.”

“What happened to him?” Nell could not help asking.

“How should I know? Went back to his stable, I daresay: I wasn’t paying much heed to him. Or to any of it, if it comes to that. Well, what I mean is, never thought another thing about it, once the race was won. There wasn’t any reason why I should. But, Nell, when I went to bed on Sunday night, I pulled back the clothes, and damme if there wasn’t a cockroach right in the middle of the bed! How I came to be such a gudgeon as not to see then what it meant still has me in a puzzle. I didn’t. It wasn’t till Monday that it fairly burst on me. I went just to see how they were betting their money at Tatt’s, and who should be there but old Jerry Stowe? No, you don’t know him—not the kind of fellow you would know, but he’s a mighty safe man at the Corner, I can tell you. Did him a trifling service once: no great matter, but to hear him you’d think I’d saved his life! Well, the long and short of it was that he told me in my ear to put all my blunt on Cockroach for the King’s Plate at Chester! That fairly sent me to grass, I can tell you! I hadn’t even heard of the tit: didn’t mean to bet on the race at all, because I’ve no fancy for an odds-on chance, and to my mind there wasn’t a horse entered, barring Milksop, that could beat Firebrand. But, of course, as soon as Jerry tipped me the office that settled it: taking one thing with another, I could see Cockroach was a certainty. The only trouble was, how the deuce was I to raise enough mint- sauce to make the thing worth while?” He paused, frowning. The amusement was quenched in Nell’s eyes, which were fixed on his face in painful enquiry. “Did something I’ve never done before, and never thought I should do,” he said, shaking his head. “Too damned ramshackle by half! Mind, if I hadn’t known the horse couldn’t lose I wouldn’t have done it!”

She smiled faintly: “What did you do, Dy? Tell me—pray!”

“Borrowed a monkey from Corny,” he replied briefly.

“O-h-h!” It was a long sigh of unutterable relief. “Is that all? I thought you meant you had done something— something shocking!”

“Well, if you don’t know that it’s shocking to go breaking shins amongst your friends it’s time someone told you!” said the Viscount severely. “What if the horse hadn’t won? A pretty Captain Sharp I should have looked!”

“Yes, yes, but I am persuaded Mr. Fancot wouldn’t have thought so, or cared a jot!”

“No, of course he wouldn’t, but that don’t make it any better! Worse, in fact. I don’t mind owing blunt to the regular brags, or to a parcel of tradesmen, but I’m not the sort of rum ‘un that sponges on my friends, I’ll have you know!”

She was abashed, and docilely begged his pardon. He regarded her frowningly, and suddenly said: “If you didn’t kick up all that dust because you knew I’d won the money at Chester races, how did you think I’d come by it?”

She hung her head, blushing. “Oh, Dysart, I have been so foolish!”

“I daresay, but that don’t tell me anything! What made you fly into that odd rage? You aren’t going to tell me you thought I’d held up a coach and robbed some stranger?”

“No—worse!” she whispered, pressing a hand to one hot cheek.

“Don’t be such sapskull! I should like to know what you imagine would be worse than that!” he said impatiently.

“Oh, Dysart, forgive me! I thought you had taken the necklace!”

“No, you didn’t. I particularly told you I hadn’t made off with your precious jewels, so stop bamming me!”

“Not my jewels—the Cardross necklace!”

“What?”

She quailed involuntarily.

“You—thought—I—had—stolen—the Cardross necklace?” said the Viscount, with awful deliberation. “Are you run quite mad, girl?”

“I think I m-must have run m-mad,” she confessed. “It was because you held me up! I never should have thought it if you hadn’t meant to seize my jewels, and sell them for me! I thought—”

“I want to hear no more of what you thought!” interrupted Dysart terribly. “Good God, are you going to sit there telling me you believed me capable of making off with something that don’t belong to either of us?”

“No, no! I mean—I wondered if perhaps you thought it was mine! And you knew I didn’t care for it, so—”

“—so I prigged it while you were out of the way—a thing worth the lord only knows how many thousands of pounds!” he cut in wrathfully. “Just to pay your trumpery debt, too! Oh, no! I was forgetting! Not just to pay your debt, was it? I gave you three centuries—devilish handsome of me, by God!—and pouched over seven thousand! Do you happen to know what I did with the thing? Did I sell it to some fence or other, or did I lodge it with a spouter? I don’t wonder at it that I found you in such a grand fuss! The only thing that