“Who;—I?” said Doodles. “No; I don’t know her particularly. I did meet her once before, just once—in a casual way.”
“Captain Booddle and me is very good friends,” said Sophie. “He come to my house and behave himself very well; only he is not so handy a man as your brother, Sir ’Oo.”
Archie trembled, and he trembled still more when his brother, turning to him, asked him if he knew the woman.
“Yes; he know the woman very well,” said Sophie. “Why do you not come any more to see me? You send your little friend; but I like you better yourself. You come again when you return, and all that shall be made right.”
But still she did not go. She had now seated herself on a gun-case which was resting on a portmanteau, and seemed to be at her ease. The time was going fast, and Sir Hugh, if he meant to eat his chops, must eat them at once.
“See her out of the hall, into the street,” he said to Archie; “and if she gives trouble, send for the police. She has come here to get money from me by threats, and only that we have no time, I would have her taken to the lockup house at once.” Then Sir Hugh retreated into the dining-room and shut the door.
“Lockup-ouse!” said Sophie, scornfully. “What is dat?”
“He means a prison,” said Doodles.
“Prison! I know who is most likely be in a prison. Tell me of a prison! Is he a minister of state that he can send out order for me to be made prisoner? Is there lettres de cachet now in England? I think not. Prison, indeed!”
“But really, Madame Gordeloup, you had better go; you had, indeed,” said Archie.
“You, too—you bid me go? Did I bid you go when you came to me? Did I not tell you, sit down? Was I not polite? Did I send for a police? or talk of lockup-ouse to you? No. It is English that do these things; only English.”
Archie felt that it was incumbent on him to explain that his visit to her house had been made under other circumstances—that he had brought money instead of seeking it; and had, in fact, gone to her simply in the way of her own trade. He did begin some preliminaries to this explanation; but as the servant was there, and as his brother might come out from the dining-room—and as also he was aware that he could hardly tell the story much to his own advantage, he stopped abruptly, and, looking piteously at Doodles, implored him to take the lady away.
“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind just seeing her into Mount Street,” said Archie.
“Who; I?” said Doodles, electrified.
“It is only just round the corner,” said Archie.
“Yes, Captain Booddle, we will go,” said Sophie. “This is a bad house; and your Sir ’Oo—I do not like him at all. Lockup, indeed! I tell you he shall very soon be locked up himself. There is what you call Davy’s locker. I know;—yes.”
Doodles also trembled when he heard this anathema, and thought once more of the character of Jack Stuart and his yacht.
“Pray go with her,” said Archie.
“But I had come to see you off.”
“Never mind,” said Archie. “He is in such a taking, you know. God bless you, old fellow; goodbye! I’ll write and tell you what fish we get, and mind you tell me what Turriper does for the Bedfordshire. Goodbye, Madame Gordeloup—goodbye.”
There was no escape for him, so Doodles put on his hat and prepared to walk away to Mount Street with the Spy under his arm—the Spy as to whose avocations, over and beyond those of her diplomatic profession, he had such strong suspicions! He felt inclined to be angry with his friend, but the circumstances of his parting hardly admitted of any expression of anger.
“Goodbye, Clavvy,” he said. “Yes; I’ll write; that is, if I’ve got anything to say.”
“Take care of yourself, captain,” said Sophie.
“All right,” said Archie.
“Mind you come and see me when you come back,” said Sophie.
“Of course I will,” said Archie.
“And we’ll make that all right for you yet. Gentlemen, when they have so much to gain, shouldn’t take a No too easy. You come with your handy glove, and we’ll see about it again.” Then Sophie walked off leaning upon the arm of Captain Boodle, and Archie stood at the door watching them till they turned out of sight round the corner of the square. At last he saw them no more, and then he returned to his brother.
And as we shall see Doodles no more—or almost no more—we will now bid him adieu civilly. The pair were not ill-matched, though the lady perhaps had some advantage in acuteness, given to her no doubt by the experience of a longer life. Doodles, as he walked along two sides of the square with the fair burden on his arm, felt himself to be in some sort proud of his position, though it was one from which he would not have been sorry to escape, had escape been possible. A remarkable phenomenon was the Spy, and to have walked round Berkeley Square with such a woman leaning on his arm, might in coming years be an event to remember with satisfaction. In the meantime he did not say much to her, and did not quite understand all that she said to him. At last he came to the door which he well remembered, and then he paused. He did not escape even then. After a while the door was opened, and those who were passing might have seen Captain Boodle, slowly and with hesitating steps, enter the narrow passage before the lady. Then Sophie followed, and closed the door behind her. As far as this story goes, what took place at that interview cannot be known. Let us bid farewell to Doodles, and wish
