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Lady O’Hara Retires
For a long minute silence reigned, all three actors in the little comedy listening to the heavy footsteps retreating down the passage, Carstares with one arm still around my lady’s waist and a rather strained look on his face. Molly instinctively felt that something beyond her ken was in the air, and glanced fearfully up at the white face above her. The expression in the blue eyes fixed on her husband made her turn sharply to look at him. She found that he was staring at my lord as though he saw a ghost: She wanted to speak, to relieve the tension, but all words stuck in her throat, and she could only watch the denouement breathlessly. At last O’Hara moved, coming slowly towards them, reading John’s countenance. Some of the wonder went out of his face, and, as if he sensed the other’s agony of mind, he smiled suddenly and laid his hands once more on the straight, stiff shoulders.
“Jack, ye rascal, what do ye mean by hugging and kissing me wife under me very eyes?”
Molly all at once remembered the position of her “Cousin Harry’s” arm, and gave a little gasp, whisking herself away.
My lord put out his hands and strove to thrust his friend off.
“Miles, don’t forget—don’t forget—what I am!”
The words were forced out, but his head was held high.
“Tare an’ ouns, man! And is it meself that’ll be caring what ye may or may not be? Oh, Jack, Jack, I’m so pleased to see ye, that I can scarce realise ’tis yourself I am looking at! When did ye come to England, and what-a-plague are you doing in that costume?” He jerked his head to where John’s mask lay, and wrung the hand he held as though he would never stop.
“I’ve been in England a year. As to the mask—!” He shrugged and laughed.
Lady O’Hara pushed in between them.
“But please I do not understand!” she said plaintively.
Carstares bowed over her hand.
“May I be permitted to thank you for your kindly intervention, my lady? And to congratulate Miles on his marriage?”
She dimpled charmingly and curtsied. Her husband caught her round the waist.
“Ay, the saucy minx! Oh, me cousin Harry, forsooth! If it had been anyone but Jack I should be angry with ye, asthore, for ’twas a wicked thrick to play entirely!”
She patted his hand and smiled across at Jack.
“Of course, I would never have done such a forward thing had I not known that he was indeed a gentleman—and had he not saved me from sudden death!” she added as an afterthought.
Miles looked sharply round at her and then at Carstares.
“What’s this?”
“My lady exaggerates,” smiled my lord. “ ’Tis merely that I had the honour to catch her as she fell down the steps this morning.”
O’Hara looked relieved.
“Ye are not hurt, alanna?”
“Gracious, no! But I had to do something to show my gratitude—and I was sure that you would never expose my fraud—so I—But,” as a sudden thought struck her, “you seem to know my highwayman!”
“Sure an’ I do, Molly. ’Tis none other than Jack Carstares of whom ye’ve often heard me speak!”
She turned round eyes of wonderment upon my lord.
“Can it be—is it possible that you are my husband’s dearest friend—Lord John?”
Jack flushed and bowed.
“I was once—madam,” he said stiffly.
“Once!” she scoffed. “Oh, if you could but hear him speak of you! But I’ll let you hear him speak to you, which perhaps you’ll enjoy more. I know you’ve a prodigious great deal to say to one another, so I shall run away and leave you alone.” She smiled graciously upon him, blew an airy kiss to her husband and went quickly out of the room.
Carstares closed the door behind her and came back to O’Hara, who had flung himself back into his chair, trying, manlike, to conceal the excitement he was feeling.
“Come, sit ye down, Jack, and let me have the whole story!”
My lord divested himself of his long cloak and shook out his hitherto tucked-up ruffles. From the pocket of his elegant scarlet riding coat he drew a snuffbox, which he opened languidly. With his eyes resting quizzically on O’Hara’s face, he took a delicate pinch of snuff and minced across the room.
Miles laughed.
“What’s this?”
“This, my dear friend, is Sir Anthony Ferndale, Bart.!” He bowed with great flourish.
“Ye look it. But come over here, Sir Anthony Ferndale, Bart., and tell me everything.”
Jack perched on the edge of the desk and swung his leg.
“Well really, I do not think there is much to tell that you do not already know, Miles. You know all about Dare’s card-party, for instance, precisely six years ago?”
“ ’Tis just exactly what I do not know!” retorted O’Hara.
“You surprise me! I thought the tale was rife.”
“Now, Jack, will ye have done drawling at me? Don’t be forgetting I’m your friend—”
“But are you? If you know the truth about me, do you feel inclined to call me friend?”
“There never was a time when I would not have been proud to call ye friend, as ye would very well have known, had ye been aught but a damned young hothead! I heard that crazy tale about the card-party, but do ye think I believed it?”
“It was the obvious thing to do.”
“Maybe, but I fancy I know ye just a little too well to believe any cock-and-bull story I’m told about ye. And even if I had been fool enough to have believed it, do ye think I’d be going back on ye? Sure, ’tis a poor friend I’d be!”
Jack stared down at the toe of his right boot in silence.
“I know something more than we guessed happened at that same party, and I have me suspicions, but ’tis your affair, and whatever ye did ye had your reasons for. But, Jack, why in the name of wonder must ye fly off to the devil alone knows where, without so much as a goodbye to anyone?”
Carstares never
