The Unknown Ajax

“No, dear aunt, of course you haven’t!” said Vincent. He sighed wearily. “I wondered if that was it. You have all my sympathy, Lieutenant—even though I must own I am devoutly thankful that you, and not I, have been his latest victim.”

“Vincent!” she cried indignantly. “Of all the ill-natured, false things to say! You know very well—”

“Be quiet!” interrupted his lordship harshly. “I will not endure any more of this nonsense! The boy doesn’t tell you what pranks he gets up to, ma’am, or me either! I’ve no doubt he plays all manner of tricks—all boys do so!— but let no one dare to tell me he has ever gone one inch beyond the line!” He glared at Ottershaw as he spoke, his breathing a little quickened, his face very grim.

“Eh, I know that, sir!” Hugo assured him, apparently taking this to himself. “Now, there’s no need for anyone to go giddy over the lad! And no need for you to think our Richmond’s being hidden from you, Ottershaw, just because his lordship don’t like getting visits at midnight from Riding-officers, and being told he’s to produce his grandson slap! Nor because I told you you’d do better to go away—which doesn’t mean that the lad’s not here! He’s here reet enough, but there are reasons why you’ve not just nicked the nick in choosing your time! The fact is there’s been a bit of an upset—”

“Why the devil couldn’t you have said so before?” demanded Vincent. “What sort of an upset?”

“Nay, I can’t explain it now! All I want—”

“Major Darracott!” suddenly interrupted the Lieutenant, “you are perhaps not aware that your cuff-band is bloodstained!”

The Major looked quickly at his wrist and then directed a quelling glance at Ottershaw. “Ay, well—never mind that! It’s of no consequence!”

“I must ask you to tell me, sir, how you come to have blood on your cuff, when you appear to have sustained no injury!”

He was somewhat taken aback by the Major’s response. Looking at him with a fulminating eye, the Major said, under his breath: “Sneck up, will you, dafthead?”

“Hugo, no!”Mrs. Darracott cried involuntarily, starting forward. “Richmond—? Not Richmond, Hugo, not Richmond! It isn’t true—it couldn’t be true!”

“No, no, it’s got nothing to do with Richmond!” said Hugo, in exasperated accents, adding bitterly to the Lieutenant: “Now see what you’ve done!”

“Whom has it to do with?” demanded Vincent. “Come, out with it!”

“If you must have it, our Claud’s met with an accident!” said Hugo, in a goaded voice. He looked at Lady Aurelia, and said apologetically: “I didn’t mean to say it in front of you, ma’am, and, what’s more, Claud’ll be reet angry with me for doing it! There’s no cause for alarm, mind, but happen if you’d go down to the morning-room, Vincent—”

“I will certainly go down. What happened? Did he cut himself?”

“Nay, it’s not exactly a cut,”replied the Major-evasively.

Lady Aurelia rose. She had scarcely taken her eyes from the Major from the moment that he entered the room, as he was perfectly well aware, but it was impossible to interpret that steady gaze. She said, with her accustomed calm: “I will accompany you, Vincent.”

“Well, I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” said Hugo. “He’d as lief you didn’t: he doesn’t want a fuss made, you see!”

“You would do better to remain where you are, Aurelia!” said his lordship, his voice a little strained. “Depend upon it, he’s done something foolish, which he doesn’t wish us to know! Elvira, I wish you will go back to bed, instead of standing there like a stock!”

“I will not go to bed!” declared Mrs. Darracott, with startling resolution. “If this insulting young man is determined to see my son, he shall see him! I will take you to him myself, sir, and when you have seen that he is precisely where I told you he was—in bed and asleep!—I shall expect an apology from you! An abject apology! Come with me, if you please!”

“Nay, ma’am, I’ll take him!” offered Hugo hastily.

“Thank you, I prefer to take him myself!” she said.

Ottershaw, glancing uncertainly from one face to the other, encountered yet another of the Major’s fulminating looks. This time it was accompanied by an unmistakeable sign to him not to go with Mrs. Darracott. He began to feel baffled. He had not expected to find that Major Darracott was in any way entangled in Richmond’s crimes, but he had very soon realized his mistake. He was a good deal shocked, even sorry, for it was abundantly plain that the Major was desperately trying to fob him off. Then, just as he had decided that the Major was recklessly aiding Richmond to escape from his clutch, it seemed as if it was not from him that this large and somewhat clumsy intriguer was trying to conceal something, but from Lady Aurelia, and Mrs. Darracott. That had puzzled Ottershaw; the signal that had just been made he found quite incomprehensible, for it almost seemed as if what the Major was trying to conceal could scarcely have anything to do with Richmond. Frowning, he stood listening to the Major’s efforts to get rid of Mrs. Darracott. It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps he was only anxious to spare her the shock of witnessing her son’s inevitable exposure. If that were so, Ottershaw was very willing to further the scheme. He said: “If you will take me to Mr. Darracott’s room, sir, there is no need for Mrs. Darracott to come with us.”

“That is for me to decide!” said Mrs. Darracott, flushed and very bright-eyed. “I, and no one else, will take you, sir!”

The Major gave it up. “Nay, he’s not in his room!” he disclosed. “He’s downstairs.” Looking extremely guilty, he said: “Seemingly, my grandfather ordered him off to bed, but—well, he came downstairs instead! We’ve been playing piquet.”

“Major Darracott, do you tell me that he has been with you all the evening?” demanded Ottershaw. “Take care how you answer me, sir! I have very good reason to suppose that Mr. Richmond Darracott, until less than an hour ago, was not in the house at all!”

“Nay, you can’t have,” replied the Major. “He’s been with me ever since he was sent off to bed—and, what’s more, he’d no thought of leaving the house, for he’s having such a run of luck as I never saw! Pretty well ruined me, the young devil!”

“Well!” exclaimed Mrs. Darracott. “I must say, Hugo, I think it was very wrong of you to encourage Richmond to sit up late when you know how bad it is for him! And as for gambling with him—Well, I shall say nothing now, except that I didn’t think it of you!” Her voice broke, and tears started to her eyes as she directed a look of wounded reproach at Hugo. He hung his head, looking very like an overgrown schoolboy detected in crime. Mrs. Darracott, the top of whose head perhaps reached the middle of his chest, said with cold severity: “You will now oblige me by going downstairs again, and desiring Richmond to come to me here immediately!”

The expression of dismay on Hugo’s face lured Lieutenant Ottershaw into banishing doubt. Certainly betrayed him into abandoning the dogged deliberation which made him formidable; the light of triumph was in his eye as he said, on a challenging note: “Well, sir?”

“Nay, I can’t do that! I mean—I don’t think—” Hugo stammered, looking wildly round for succour. “Well,— well, for one thing—happen he won’t care to leave our Claud!” His guileless blue eyes, meeting Ottershaw’s in seeming horror, took due note of the fact that that dangerously level-headed young man had at last allowed himself to be coaxed into an unaccustomed state of cocksure excitement. He said, as one driven from his last defensive position: “The fact is—he’s just a bit on the go!”

“Do you mean that Richmond is drunk?”cried Mrs. Darracott. “Oh, how could you? I thought you were so kind, and good, and trustworthy! ”

“In that case, Major Darracott, I will go to him!”said Ottershaw. “You are sure, no doubt, that Mr. Richmond Darracott is drunk, and not wounded? ”

“No, no, he’s not—” Hugo checked himself suddenly, an arrested look on his face. “Now, wait a minute!” he said. “Wounded, did you say?”

“The Lieutenant, coz,” interposed Vincent, “was good enough to inform us, before you came upstairs, that Richmond had been shot by one of the men under his command, not an hour since. He appears—perhaps