False Colours

“It ain’t that, Master Kit,” Challow said, shaking his head. “The mischief is I don’t know—not by a long chalk! That ain’t to say I haven’t had my suspicions, the same as Fimber has, but whenever his lordship goes off on one of his revel-routs he don’t take either of us with him, nor he don’t say where he’s off to. It queers me why he should tip us the double like he does, because there’s nothing we could do to stop him going the pace.”

Kit let this pass. He found nothing remarkable in Evelyn’s desire to shake off his fond but censorious guardians when he was bent on adventures of which they would strongly and vociferously disapprove; but as no useful purpose would be served by entering into discussion of this he merely said: “He may not tell you where he’s off to, but I’ll swear it’s a guinea to a gooseberry that you know!”

“Not properly I don’t, sir. I’ve got my reasons for thinking there’s a ladybird in Brighton he used to have dealings with, and another one at Tunbridge Wells. It did cross my mind, when he went off alone from Ravenhurst, that that’s where he was bound for. Well, I don’t mind owning to you, sir, that when he didn’t come home to London when he was looked for, what with her ladyship getting in a twitter, and him being engaged to dine at my Lord Stavely’s, I took it upon myself to hop on to the stage, and see if I couldn’t get news of him at the Wells. I didn’t say anything about it to her ladyship, nor to you neither, Mr Kit, because I’ll take my oath my lord ain’t there, nor hasn’t been. They hadn’t seen him at the Sussex, nor the Kentish, nor even the New Inn: that’s certain-sure! I got into talk with the ostlers, for if my lord had stabled his grays at any of the inns they wouldn’t have been forgotten, even if he was! You ain’t seen them yet, but I give you my word they’re complete to a shade! Perfect in all their paces! Four of the tidiest ones you ever clapped eyes on, sir!”

“What about the livery-stables?” interrupted Kit.

“No, sir—not at any which my lord would have trusted with that team. Naturally I thought of that, when I got to wondering if perhaps he’d set his peculiar up private, and wasn’t putting up at an inn at all.” He coughed discreetly, adding, on a note of apology: “If I’m not speaking too free, Master Kit!”

Kit paid no heed to this, but said, frowning ahead of him: “My brother wouldn’t have remained with one of his peculiars at such a time as this.”

“Just what I think myself, sir!” said Challow. “Not when he’s made up his mind to step into parson’s mousetrap he wouldn’t! He’s not of that cut—let alone the danger of it! Tunbridge Wells! Lord, I saw with my own eyes upwards of half-a-dozen people there that his lordship knew well!”

Kit nodded, and relapsed into silence. The problem of his erratic twin’s whereabouts seemed insoluble; for the only explanation that occurred to him was that Evelyn, who had certainly gone off to redeem Lady Denville’s brooch, must have found that Lord Silverdale had left Brighton, and had decided to follow him to his Yorkshire estates. But no sooner had he admitted this thought into his mind than he was struck by its improbability. If Evelyn, pressed for time, as he must have known he was, had undertaken such a journey, he would not have set forth in his phaeton. Nor could there have been any reason to account for his having taken such care to rid himself of his valet. It was equally unlikely that he would not have failed to apprise Lady Denville of his intention. He might well have driven himself to London—but why leave Challow behind?—and gone on from there by post-chaise; but that he had not done so was proved by the absence of his grays from their stable.

Kit was recalled from these ruminations by Challow, who presented him with a fresh problem. “Begging your pardon, Mr Kit,” said that worthy, “but what was you meaning to do at Ravenhurst?”

“Do?” repeated Kit, whose only thought so far had been to escape from a locality so fraught with peril as London. “I don’t know—what should I do? Fish—shoot a few wood pigeons and rabbits!”

“Ah!” said Challow, in the voice of one who had foreseen this answer. “I’m sure I wouldn’t want to “throw a rub in your way, sir, but if you want to gammon everyone into believing you’re his lordship you won’t go fishing! That ain’t by any means his lordship’s notion of sport!”

Kit, who had momentarily forgotten Evelyn’s dislike of fishing, felt much inclined to damn his lordship. He quelled the impulse, but said, with a touch of exasperation: “You’ve only to add that as I’m nothing like as good a shot as my brother, land must therefore not take a gun out, to tip me a final settler! Don’t put yourself to the trouble of doing it, but tell me instead what the devil I am going to do!”

“Now, now!” responded Challow, indulgently chiding. “There’s no call for you to take a pet, Master Kit! All I’m saying is that if you do take a gun out you don’t want anyone to go with you—no loader, nor Mr Willey, which is my lord’s new gamekeeper. You ain’t seen him yet, nor he won’t know you from my lord, if he don’t see you shooting.”

“Thank you!” said Kit, a reluctant grin banishing his frown. “Stop depressing my pretensions, and tell me who is likely to recognize me at Ravenhurst!”

“I been thinking of that, sir, and it don’t seem to me that anyone will, barring Mrs Pinner—and seeing as how she lives in the cottage by the west gates now I dare say you could keep out of her way.”

He sounded doubtful, but Kit had no doubt at all that there was no possibility of keeping out of his old nurse’s way. He exclaimed: “Keep out of Pinny’s way? I don’t mean to try! If I can’t trust her, there’s no one, not even my mother, whom I can trust!”

That’s true enough,” agreed Challow. “What’s more, sir, if anyone was to get a suspicion you wasn’t his lordship—not that I think anyone will, for the new butler, which my lord engaged a year ago, when it got to be beyond old Mr Brigg to be jauntering up and down from London, ain’t never laid eyes on you, and he don’t know his lordship very well neither, for, barring the couple of nights we spent at Ravenhurst a fortnight back, my lord hasn’t been next or nigh the place since he was here in November, with a party, for the shooting—however, if he did happen to be more of a downy one than I take him for, he won’t think no more about it when me, and Fimber, and Mrs Pinner carry on as though everything was natural and above-board. Well, why should he, Master Kit? No one that didn’t know you like we do would ever think of you taking it into your head to run a rig like this!”

Kit opened his mouth to refute the suggestion that he had ever taken any such idea into his head, but shut it again, as he remembered that it had been his own light-hearted words which had put it into his mama’s head.

Perceiving that the unwonted frown had deepened on his young master’s brow, Challow said encouragingly: “Now, you don’t need to get into the hips, sir, only because I’ve dropped a warning in your ear! You carry it with a high hand, and you’ll do!”

It seemed, when they reached Ravenhurst, that he was right. Since his arrival was unexpected, he found the great gates shut. Tugby, whom he had known all his life, came out of the lodge, looking startled, when Challow blew a sharp summons on the yard of tin, but as soon as he saw Kit he hurried forward to open the gates, ejaculating, “My lord! Well, I never did!”

“Didn’t expect to see me again so soon, did you?” said Kit cheerfully.

“No, that I didn’t, my lord! But I’m mighty glad you’ve come back. We don’t see enough of you these days.” He set wide one half of the gate, and returned to pull back the other, looking up at Kit, and saying: “And have you had word from Mr Christopher, my lord? I hope he’s well?”

“Yes: he’s in prime twig—and sends his remembrances to all his old friends here.”

“Ah, we want him home, don’t we, my lord?” said Tugby. “It don’t seem right to see you here without him.”

Driving through the park, along the well-kept avenue, very much the same thought was in Kit’s mind. Ravenhurst was the home of his boyhood, and he loved it; but all his memories of it were so inseparably linked with his twin that the place seemed empty without him, and even a little strange.

Half-ashamed to find himself sentimentalizing, he tried to shake off his depression, and to take pleasure instead in seeing that although it had seldom been visited since his father’s death everything was in excellent order. But when he entered the house the feeling of emptiness was oppressive, and made him regret that he had come back to it alone. It had little to do with Evelyn, as he realized. When the family was in residence, upwards of twenty indoor servants were employed; and he could scarcely remember a time when no guests had been entertained there; and since the household had always known when to expect my lord and my lady he had never before found the saloons and the drawing-rooms shrouded in holland covers. He thought it was enough to cast the most cheerful person into gloom, and wondered for how long he would be obliged to remain there. He also