Then Hampton put the Captain through his facings as to time and distance and exact places that had been passed, and ended by expressing an opinion that he could have kicked his hat as fast on foot. Whereupon the Captain begged him to try, and hinted that he did not know the country. In answer to which Hampton offered to bet a five-pound note that young Jack Runce would say that the pace had been slow. Jack was the son of the old farmer whom the Senator had so disgusted, and was supposed to know what he was about on a horse. But Glomax declined the bet saying that he did not care a ⸻ for Jack Runce. He knew as much about pace as any farmer, or for the matter of that any gentleman, in Ufford or Rufford, and the pace for forty minutes had been very good. Nevertheless all the party were convinced that the “thing” had been so slow that it had not been worth riding to;—a conviction which is not uncommon with gentlemen when they have missed a run. In all this discussion poor Larry took no great part though he knew the country as well as anyone. Larry had not as yet got over the awe inspired by the lord in his black coat.
Perhaps Larry’s happiest moment in the evening was when Runciman himself brought in the soup, for at that moment Lord Rufford put his hand on his shoulder and desired him to sit down—and Runciman both heard and saw it. And at dinner, when the champagne had been twice round, he became more comfortable. The conversation got upon Goarly, and in reference to that matter he was quite at home. “It’s not my doing,” said Lord Rufford. “I have instructed no one to keep him locked up.”
“It’s a very good job from all that I can hear,” said Tom Surbiton.
“All I did was to get Mr. Masters here to take up the case for me, and I learned from him today that the rascal had already agreed to take the money I offered. He only bargains that it shall be paid into his own hands—no doubt desiring to sell the attorney he has employed.”
“Bearside has got his money from the American Senator, my lord,” said Larry.
“They may fight it out among them. I don’t care who gets the money or who pays it as long as I’m not imposed upon.”
“We must proceed against that man Scrobby,” said Glomax with all the authority of a Master.
“You’ll never convict him on Goarly’s evidence,” said the Lord.
Then Larry could give them further information. Nickem had positively traced the purchase of the red herrings. An old woman in Rufford was ready to swear that she herself had sold them to Mrs. Scrobby. Tom Surbiton suggested that the possession of red herrings was not of itself a crime. Hampton thought that it was corroborative. Captain Battersby wanted to know whether any of the herrings were still in existence, so that they could be sworn to. Glomax was of opinion that villainy of so deep a dye could not have taken place in any other hunting country in England.
“There’s been strychnine put down in the Brake too,” said Hampton.
“But not in cartloads,” said the Master.
“I rather think,” said Larry, “that Nickem knows where the strychnine was bought. That’ll make a clear case of it. Hanging would be too good for such a scoundrel.” This was said after the third glass of champagne, but the opinion was one which was well received by the whole company. After that the Senator’s conduct was discussed, and they all agreed that in the whole affair that was the most marvellous circumstance. “They must be queer people over there,” said Larry.
“Brutes!” said Glomax. “They once tried a pack of hounds somewhere in one of the States, but they never could run a yard.”
There was a good deal of wine drank, which was not unusual at Lord Rufford’s dinners. Most of the company were seasoned vessels, and none of them were much the worse for what they drank. But the generous wine got to Larry’s heart, and perhaps made his brain a little soft. Lord Rufford remembering what had been said about the young man’s misery tried to console him by attention; and as the evening wore on, and when the second cigars had been lit all round, the two were seated together in confidential conversation at a corner of the table. “Yes, my lord; I think I shall hook it,” said Larry. “Something has occurred that has made the place not quite so comfortable to me; and as it is all my own I think I shall sell it.”
“We should miss you immensely in the hunt,” said Lord Rufford, who of course knew what the something was.
“It’s very kind of you to say so, my lord. But there are things which may make a man go.”
“Nothing serious, I hope.”
“Just a young woman, my lord. I don’t want it talked about, but I don’t mind mentioning it to you.”
“You should never let those troubles touch you so closely,” said his lordship, whose own withers at this moment were by no means unwrung.
“I dare say not. But if you feel it, how are you to help it? I shall do very well when I get away. Chowton Farm is not the only spot in the world.”
“But a man so fond of hunting as you are!”
“Well;—yes. I shall miss the hunting, my lord—shan’t I? If Mr. Morton don’t buy the place I should like it to go to your lordship. I offered it to him first because it came from them.”
“Quite right. By the by, I hear that Mr. Morton is very ill.”
“So I heard,” said Larry. “Nupper has been with him, I know, and I fancy they have sent for somebody from London.
