CHAPTER X

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 snuff-box, 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 good-bye to

anyone?"

Carstares never raised his eyes from the contemplation of that boot. He

spoke with difficulty.

"Miles--in my place--would you not have done the same?"

"Well--"

"You know you would. Was it likely that I should inflict myself on you

at such a time? What would you have thought of me had I done so?"

O'Hara brought his hand down smartly on the other's knee.

"I'd have thought ye less of a young fool! I would have gone away with

ye, and nothing would have stopped me!"

Jack looked up and met his eyes.

"I know," he said. "'Twas the thought of that--and--and--I could not be

sure. How should I know whether you would even receive me? Last

night--last night--I was horribly afraid...."

The hand on his knee tightened.

"Ye foolish boy! Ye foolish boy!"

Bit by bit he drew the story of the past six years out of Carstares, and

though it was a very modified version, Miles understood his friend well

enough to read between the lines.

"And now," said Jack, when the recital was over, "tell me about

yourself. When did you marry the attractive lady whom I have just been

kissing?"

"Ye rogue! I married Molly three years ago. 'Tis a real darling she is,

isn't she? And upstairs there's a little chap--your godson."

"You lucky fellow! My godson, you say? Could you not find anyone more

worthy for that? I want to see him."

"So ye shall presently. Have ye seen Richard?"

"A year ago I held up his coach. 'Twas dark, and I could scarce see him,

but I thought he seemed aged."

"Aged! Ye wouldn't be afther knowing him! 'Tis an old man he is. Though

I swear 'tis no wonder with that hussy about the house! Lord, Jack, you

were well out of that affair with her ladyship!"

Carstares nursed his foot reflectively.

"Lavinia? What ails her?"

"Nought that I know of, save it be her shrewish temper. 'Tis a dog's

life she leads poor Dick."

"Do you mean to say she does not love Dick?"

"I cannot say--sometimes she's as affectionate as you please, but at

others she treats him to a fine exhibition of rage. And the money she

spends! Of course, she married him for what she could get. There was

never anything else to count with her."

Jack sat very still.

"And anyone but a young fool like yourself would have seen that!"

A gleam of amusement shot into the wistful blue eyes.

"Probably. Yourself, for instance?"

O'Hara chuckled.

"Oh, ay, I knew! 'Twas the money she was after all along; and now

there's not so much, it seems, as Dick won't touch a penny that belongs

to you."

"M'm. Warburton told me. Foolish of him."

A grunt was the sole response.

Jack's eyes narrowed a little as he gazed out of the window. "So Lavinia

never cared? Lord, what a mix-up! And Dick?"

"I'm afraid he still does."

"Poor old Dick! Devil take the woman! Does she bully him? I know what he

is--always ready to give in."

"I am not so sure. Yet I'll swear if 'twere not for John his life would

be a misery. He misses you, Jack."

"Who is John?"

"Did not Warburton tell you? John is the hope of the house. He's four

and a half, and as spoilt a little rascal as you could wish for."

"Dick's child? Good Lord!"

"Ay, Dick's child and your nephew." He broke off and looked into the

other's face. "Jack, cannot this mystery be cleared up? Couldn't ye go

back?" He was clasping Jack's hand, but it was withdrawn, and the eyes

looking down into his were suddenly bored and a little cold.

"I know of no mystery," said Carstares.

"Jack, old man, will ye be afther shutting me out of your confidence?"

A faint, sweet smile curved the fine lips.

"Let us talk of the weather, Miles, or my mare. Anything rather than

this painful subject."

With an impatient movement O'Hara flung back his chair and strode over

to the window with his back to my lord. Jack's eyes followed him

seriously.

"If ye cannot trust me, sure I've no more to say, thin!" flashed O'Hara.

"It seems ye do not value your friends too highly!"

My lord said never a word. But the hand that rested on the desk clenched

suddenly. O'Hara wheeled about and came back to his side.

"Sure, Jack, I never meant that! Forgive me bad temper!"

Carstares slipped off the table and straightened himself, linking his

arm in the Irishman's.

"Whisht, Miles, as you'd say yourself," he laughed, "I know that. 'Tis

not that I don't trust you, but--"

"I understand. I'll not ask ye any more about it at all. Instead, answer

me this: what made ye come out with unloaded pistols?"

The laugh died out of Carstares' face.

"Oh, just carelessness!" he answered shortly, and he thought of the

absent Jim with a tightening of the lips.

"'Twas that very same reason with meself thin!" Jack stared at him.

"Miles, don't tell me yours were unloaded, too?"

"'Deed an' they were! Ecod, Jack! 'tis the best joke I've heard for a

twelvemonth." They both started to laugh. "Sure 'twas bluff on my part,

Jack, when I told ye yours was unloaded. And me lady was determined to

set you free from the moment I told her all about it this morning. We

were sure ye were no ordinary highwayman, though I was a fool not to

have known ye right away. But now I have found ye out, ye'll stay with

us--Cousin Harry?"

"I cannot thank you enough, Miles, but I will not do that. I must get

back to Jim."

"And who the devil is Jim?"

"My servant. He'll be worried nigh to death over me. Nay, do not press

me, I could not stay here, Miles. You must see for yourself 'tis

impossible--Jack Carstares does not exist; only Anthony Ferndale is

left."

"Jack, dear man, can I not--"

"No, Miles, you can do nothing, though 'tis like you to want to help,

and I do thank you. But--oh well! ... What about my mare?"

"Plague take me if I'd not forgotten! Jack, that scoundrel of mine let

her strain her fetlock. I'm demmed sorry."

"Poor Jenny! I'll swear she gave him an exciting ride, though."

"I'll be trying to buy her off ye, Jack, if I see much of her. 'Tis a

little beauty she is."

"I'm not selling, though I intended to ask you to keep her, if--"

A quick pressure on his arm arrested him.

"That will do! I'm too heavy for her anyway."

"So was that devil of a groom you put on her."

"Ay. I'm a fool."

"I always knew that."

"Whisht now, Jack! Ye'll have to take one of my nags while she heals, if

ye won't stay with us. Can ye trust her to me for a week, do ye

suppose?"

"I don't know. It seems as though I must--oh, I retract, I retract. You

are altogether too large, the day is too hot, and my cravat too nicely

tied--Egad, Miles! I wish--oh, I _wish_ we were boys again, and--Yes.

When may I see your son and heir?"

"Sure, ye may come now and find Molly, who'll be aching for the sight of

you. Afther you, Sir Anthony Ferndale, Bart!"