‘How you do talk,’ said Noel admiringly. ‘Just like a book. I wonder you don’t write one.’
‘I shall, when I’m thirty. Nobody ought to write books before they’re thirty. I hate precocity. Now then, out with it, Noel, how did you get all that cash?’
‘Well, if you really want to know, an aunt of mine has died. She has left me some money.’
‘That’s just an ordinary lie, of course. Legacies never happen to people one knows. It’s like seeing ghosts or winning the Irish Sweep, one never meets the people who have, only people who know people who have. So how much did she leave you?’
‘Three thousand three hundred and fourteen pounds.’
‘Just say that again.’
‘Three thousand three hundred and fourteen pounds.’
‘Did I hear you say three thousand three hundred and fourteen pounds?’
‘You did.’
‘Honest to God?’
‘Honest to God.’
‘D’you think the aunt was in full possession of her faculties when she made that will?’
‘There’s no doubt that she was.’
‘Such a very odd sum. Well now, Noel, my dear old boy, you have my warmest congratulations. And what about the fourteen pounds?’
‘What about them?’
‘Hadn’t it occurred to you that three thousand three hundred pounds rolls off the tongue much easier without that niggly little fourteen tacked on to it? Sounds more really, I should have said – the fourteen rather spoils it. Actually fourteen pounds is the exact sum I owe my landlady by a curious coincidence.’
‘Oh, it is is it?’ said Noel in a voice of boredom. ‘Now shall I tell you what I said to myself when the lawyer rang me up about all this? I said, no cash presents to any of the boys, and that I keep to, so lay off will you?’
‘That was exceedingly sensible of you. So now you intend to devote the whole of this little nest-egg to the pursuit of heiresses?’
‘I should very much like to find a nice girl and marry her, if that’s what you mean.’
‘It’s such a fearful gamble. Much better put the money on a horse and be out of your misery at once.’
‘I’m not in any misery at all. I intend to lead a soft, luxurious life for the next six months or so, at the rate of six thousand six hundred and twenty-eight pounds a year.’
‘And after that a soft uxorious life at an even better rate. I’m bound to say it’s quite a pleasing outlook – only you don’t know any heiresses.’
‘Not at present. I thought perhaps you did.’
‘Pass the brandy, old boy.’
‘In that case,’ said Noel, summoning the waiter. ‘I’ll have my bill, please – in that case I think I shall have to be going. I’ve watched you drinking that very expensive brandy for quite long enough.’
‘Hold on,’ said Jasper in an aggrieved tone of voice, ‘give a chap time to think, I’ve just had an idea – pass the brandy, old boy.’ He helped himself, carelessly splashing the brandy into his glass. ‘The Jolly Roger,’ he said.
‘What Jolly Roger?’
‘It’s a public-house in Chalford where I once stayed when I was shooting the moon. Pretty little place, pretty little barmaid, I remember – Minnie or Winnie or some name like that.’
‘Thanks, I know plenty of pretty little barmaids myself. It’s not what I’m looking for at present. I think I shall have to be going.’
‘Suppose you allow me to finish what I was saying.’
‘I beg your pardon.’
‘About a mile from Chalford village are the lodge gates of Chalford Park, and there lives the girl whom I believe to be England’s largest heiress – Eugenia Malmains. I couldn’t make a pass at her then because she was under the age of consent; it was about four years ago. She must be quite seventeen by now though. Nobody knows anything about her because she lives with her grandparents who are batty – she’s fairly batty herself I believe.’
‘That’s nothing. She couldn’t be battier than the girls one meets about the place in London. I don’t think it sounds worth investigating, but I might go down to the pub for a week-end sometime – where is Chalford?’
‘About ten miles away from Rackenbridge, that’s the station. Best train in the day is the 4.45 from Paddington.’
‘Well, many thanks, old boy. See you before long, I hope.’
‘I hope so. Thank you very much for my good dinner.’
They spoke with nonchalance. Neither, however, was the least deceived as to the other’s intentions, nor was Noel at all surprised when, arriving at Paddington next day to catch the 11.50 to Rackenbridge, he saw Jasper waiting for him on the platform.
Sadly he lent the requisite pound for Jasper’s ticket, drearily he followed him into a first-class luncheon car. Poor young men who have just received notice of agreeable but moderate legacies should know better than to ring up Jasper Aspect.
‘I’ve no one to blame but myself,’ thought Noel, gloomily.
2
‘Britons, awake! Arise! oh, British lion!’ cried Eugenia Malmains in thrilling tones. She stood on an overturned wash-tub on Chalford village green and harangued about a dozen aged yokels. Her straight hair, cut in a fringe, large, pale-blue eyes, dark skin, well-proportioned limbs and classical features, combined with a certain fanaticism of gesture to give her the aspect of a modern Joan of Arc.
She was dressed in an ill-fitting grey woollen skirt, no stockings, a pair of threadbare plimsolls, and a jumper made apparently out of a Union Jack. Round her waist was a leather belt to which there was attached a large bright dagger.
Noel Foster and Jasper Aspect were taking a short walk round the village waiting
