The Unknown Ajax

glib lies he is telling that unfortunate Exciseman now?”

“It is a very distressing reflection that any gentleman of birth—and particularly one whose military rank is distinguished—should have been obliged to lend himself to so disreputable a business,” pronounced her ladyship, with undiminished severity. “It is, however, to his credit that he appears at least to know what is his duty to his Family, and although I am far from approving of his conduct I cannot deny that I regard his arrival at Darracott Place as the greatest piece of good fortune that has befallen the Family for very many years. As to whether the Family is deserving of its good fortune—that is a subject upon which I prefer to remain silent!”

This measured speech not unnaturally reduced its auditors to speechless discomfort; and when Hugo presently came back into the room, he found his actors so apparently petrified into the positions in which he had left them that he grinned, and said: “Eh, you look just like a set of waxworks!”

“Not waxworks, coz: puppets!” retorted Vincent. “What unnatural antics must we next perform?”

“Hugo, have they gone?” Anthea asked anxiously.

“Oh, yes, they’ve gone, lass!” He smiled cordially upon Lady Aurelia. “Thanks to you, ma’am! I’m reet grateful to you. Nay, till you came in there was no deciding which was the best actor amongst the lot of you! Myself, I couldn’t make up my mind between Claud and Richmond, but, eh, when you took command, there was—”

“Yes, dear cousin,” interrupted Anthea firmly, “we are well aware that everyone, except you, acted to admiration, but what we are desirous of knowing is how you contrived to rid us of Ottershaw.”

“Oh, there was no difficulty about that, lass, once her ladyship’s guns had broken the square!” he assured her. “You might say that I’d nothing to do but to harass the retreat.”

“I might, but it is very unlikely that I shall,” she retorted. “Hugo, are we safe?”

“Nay, love, don’t look so fatched! We shall be safe enough, once we’ve tied up a few knots, which we’ll do easily, never fear!” he assured her.

“Did you succeed in convincing that damned, obstinate tide-watcher!” demanded Vincent.

“Nay, I’m not one to level at the moon. Happen he’ll suspect to the end of his days that he was made a Maygame of, poor lad! But what with her ladyship setting him in a quake, and me telling him that you’d so much influence, ma’am, that if he’d caught our Richmond redhanded you’d have seen to it the whole business was hushed-up, he didn’t know which way to turn. He’s no turn-tail, but he knew well he’d exceeded his commission, and when he saw I knew it too, there was naught he could do but retire—the position being untenable, as you might say! I don’t know much about Preventive work, but I do know that unless they find a smuggler in actual possession of run goods the Preventives are pretty well hamstrung—even when they’ve been nose-led after a decoy-train of rascals rigged out in smocks to deceive them, and leading a string of ponies carrying nothing more than loads of faggots. They know full well they’ve been bamboozled, but it’s no crime to carry faggots across the country in the middle of the night, so the poor devils have naught to do but own themselves gapped. Well, it was plain enough that, whatever Ottershaw had seen, he hadn’t seen our Richmond in possession of anything other than a load of devilry. All he was doing tonight was trying to catch the lad, or at any road to discover how he was contriving to flit in and out of the Dower House, no matter how strong a guard was set on it. He’d no more intention of executing that warrant than he had of getting the lad shot. Once that had happened, he may have felt there was naught to do but go through stitch with the business, or he may have gambled on the chance that if he found the lad here, wounded, he could scare him into making a confession. If he couldn’t do that, he knew he’d be taken at fault, so you can’t but allow he’s got plenty of courage. I must say, it went to my heart to cheat him, poor lad! However, a back-cast won’t harm him, for he didn’t handle the business well, and happen he’ll do better in future.” His rueful grin dawned. “It was a reet shame,” he confessed. “I gave him a dressing, just as I would any skelterbrained subaltern that had plunged stickle-butt into trouble all because he was too pot-sure, and that took the last bit of fight out of him. So I told him when he was fairly down that I knew it was our Richmond’s mischief that had led him into the hobble, and I’d do my best to bring him safely home, and no one the wiser as long as he kept his tongue between his teeth. So we’ll hope that’s buttoned the thing up, which there’s no reason to think it won’t—once he knows that young scamp’s not here any longer to plague the life out of him.”

There was a tiny pause, several pairs of eyes instinctively turning towards Lord Darracott. He gave no sign of having heard what Hugo had said, still sitting immobile, and staring straight ahead. Anthea glanced from him to Richmond, no longer tense, but sitting rather limply, his right elbow on the table, and his brow dropped on to his hand; her eyes travelled to Vincent, reading the look of strain on his face; and suddenly she began to laugh rather tremulously, realizing that the only one whose nerves were not in some way or other disordered from the ordeal they had passed through was the one on whom the success of an enterprise fraught with peril had depended, and thinking how ridiculous it was that he should rejoin his shattered accomplices as placidly as though he had done nothing more than escort two harmless morning-callers to the door. She saw that he was looking at her in mild surprise, and said: “Oh, Hugo, Hugo! I don’t know what to say to you!”

“Well, we’ve no time to waste on any more talk now, love, so happen that’s just as well,” he replied matter- of-factly. “We must dispose of Richmond’s clothes, and clear up all this mess. Nay, then, Polyphant! don’t stand gauping! There’s work to be done!”

Polyphant, who had indeed been standing staring at him, gave a start, and recalled his scattered wits. “Yes, sir—to be sure! I fear I was indulging in reflection—I will remove the bowls first, and then Mr. Claud will be comfortable again!”

“You’ll find the swabs I squeezed in my hand behind the sofa cushions,” Hugo warned him. “Vincent, will you see all these clothes disposed of? I’ve been trying to decide what had best be done with Richmond, and it seems to me that we’ll have to put him to bed in Claud’s room, for that wound of his must be attended to, and since it’s Claud who’s supposed to be the wounded one we mustn’t have any bloodstains anywhere but on his sheets. Now, there’s no need to start shuddering, lad! I’m not asking you to sleep on them!”

“No, and it wouldn’t be any use if you did ask me to!” Claud informed him, pausing in his struggles to unwind the bandages from round his slim person. “Dashed if I ever met such a fellow as you are!”

“How seldom it is that I find myself in accord with you, brother!” remarked Vincent. He looked at Hugo, and said, with a wry smile: “You irritate me intensely, you know. I have little doubt that you always will, but if ever I should get into a tight corner I do hope to God you will be at hand to pull me out of it, coz!”

“Never mind throwing the hammer at me!” replied Hugo, unmoved by this tribute, “if you want to throw it at anyone, throw it at Claud, because he’s the one who saved our groats!” His eyes were on Richmond, and he went to him, saying: “I think I’ll carry you up to bed, lad, before I do aught else.”

Richmond lifted his head with an effort. The fire had gone out of his eyes, and with the passing of danger the spirit that had upheld him so indomitably had sunk, allowing his physical weakness at last to overcome him. He managed to smile, and to say, in the thread of a voice: “A close-run thing ...! Thank you—so very grateful—so sorry, Hugo—Grandpapa ...”

Hugo caught him, as he collapsed, and lifted him up in his arms. “Eh, poor lad, I ought to have got him to bed sooner, instead of standing there chattering!” he said remorsefully. “Anthea, run upstairs to see if the coast is clear, will you, love?” He looked at Lady Aurelia. “I take it you warned his mother, ma’am?”

“Certainly,” she replied. “She was cast into very natural affliction, and dared not come down to this room for fear that her agitation might overcome her, and so betray you all, but I left her in Mrs. Flitwick’s care, and have no doubt that she will be more composed by now.”

“I’m very much obliged to you, ma’am,” he said. “Breaking it to her was the thing I dreaded most.”

“An unpleasant task,” she agreed. “I am happy to have been able to relieve you of it, for, however little I may approve of your conduct this evening I must own myself to be deeply grateful to you for all that you have done, and, I may add, very conscious of the magnanimity you have shown.”

“Nay—!” begged the Major, reddening.

She said graciously: “You have no need to blush, my dear Hugo. I do not mean to flatter you, and will only say that I have from the beginning of our acquaintance believed you to be a most estimable young man. I have little doubt that when you have overcome your tendency to levity you will do very well at Darracott Place.”

Fortunately, since Hugo was showing signs of acute embarrassment, Anthea had by this time come back into the room, to report that it was safe to carry Richmond upstairs. Lord Darracott rose stiffly from the chair into which he had sunk, and looked at Hugo, saying, as though the words were forced from him: “I am obliged to you,