CHAPTER XII

MY LORD DICTATES A LETTER AND RECEIVES A VISITOR

My lord came sighing back to life. He opened his eyes wearily, and

turned his head. A faint feeling of surprise stole over him. He was in a

room he had never been in before, and by the window, busy with some

needlework, sat a little old lady who was somehow vaguely familiar.

"Who--are--you?" he asked, and was annoyed to find his voice so weak.

The little lady jumped, and came across to him.

"Praise be to God!" she ejaculated. "Likewise, bless the boy! The fever

is passed." She laid a thin hand on his brow, and smiled down into his

wondering eyes.

"As cool as a cucumber, dear boy. What a mercy!"

It was a long time since anyone had called Jack dear, or boy. He

returned the smile feebly and closed his eyes.

"I--do not--understand--anything," he murmured drowsily.

"Never trouble your head then. Just go to sleep."

He considered this gravely for a moment. It seemed sensible enough, and

he was so very, very tired. He shut his eyes with a little sigh.

* * * * *

When he awoke again it was morning of the next day, and the sun streamed

in the window, making him blink.

Someone rustled forward, and he saw it was the lady who had called him

dear and bidden him go to sleep.

He smiled, and a very thin hand came out of the bedclothes.

"But who are you?" he demanded a little querulously.

Miss Betty patted his hand gently.

"Still worrying your poor head over that? I am Di's Aunt Betty--though,

to be sure, you don't know who Di is!"

Remembrance was coming back to my lord.

"Why--why--you are the lady in the coach!--Tracy--I remember!"

"Well, I know nought of Tracy, but I'm the lady in the coach."

"And the other--"

"That was Diana Beauleigh, my niece--the pet. You will see her when you

are better."

"But--but--where am I, madam?"

"Now don't get excited, dear boy!"

"I'm thirty!" protested Jack with a wicked twinkle.

"I should not have thought it, but thirty's a boy to me, in any case!"

retorted Miss Betty, making him laugh. "You are in Mr. Beauleigh's

house--Di's father, and my brother. And here you will stay until you are

quite recovered!"

Jack raised himself on his elbow, grimacing at the pain the movement

caused him.

"Egad, madam! have I been here long?" he demanded.

Very firmly was he pushed back on to his pillows.

"Will you be still? A nice thing 'twould be if you were to aggravate

that wound of yours! You will have been here a week to-morrow. Bless my

heart, what ails the boy?" For Jack's face took on an expression of

incredulous horror.

"A _week_, madam? Never say so!"

"'Tis as true as I stand here. And a nice fright you have given us, what

with nearly dying, and raving about your Dicks and your Jims!"

My lord glanced up sharply.

"Oh! So I--talked?"

"Talk? Well, yes, if you can call all that mixture of foreign jargon

talking. Now you must be still and wait till the doctor comes again."

For a while Carstares lay in silence. He thought of Jim and smiled a

little. "I could not have thought of a better punishment had I tried,"

he told himself, and then frowned. "Poor fellow! He'll be off his head

with fright over me. Miss--er--Betty?"

"Well, and are you not asleep yet?"

"Asleep, Madam? Certainly not!" he said with dignity. "I must write a

letter."

"'Deed, an' you shall not!"

"But I must! 'Tis monstrous important, madam."

She shook her head resolutely.

"Not until Mr. Jameson gives permission," she said firmly.

Jack struggled up, biting his lip.

"Then I shall get up!" he threatened.

In an instant she was by his side.

"No, no! Now lie down and be good!"

"I will not lie down and be good!"

"Then I shan't let you touch a pen for weeks!"

Jack became very masterful and frowned direfully upon her.

"Madam, I insist on being allowed to write that letter!"

"Sir, I insist on your lying down!"

He controlled a twitching lip.

"Woe betide you unless you bring me pen and paper, Miss Betty!"

"But, dear boy, reflect! You could not use your arm."

"I will use it!" replied Jack indomitably, but he sank back on to the

pillows with his eyes closed and a tiny furrow of pain between his

straight brows.

"I told you so!" scolded Miss Betty, not without a note of triumph in

her voice, and proceeded to rearrange the disorderly coverlet.

The blue eyes opened wide, pleadingly.

"Madam, indeed 'tis very important."

She could not withstand that look.

"Well," she compromised, "I'll not let you write yourself, that's

certain--but could you not dictate to me?"

Jack brightened, and caught her hand to his lips.

"Miss Betty, you are an angel!" he told her.

"Ah now, get along with you!" She hurried away to fetch paper and ink.

When she returned she found him plucking impatiently at the sheet, and

frowning.

"I am ready," she said.

"Thank you, madam. 'Tis very kind in you--"

"Nonsense!"

He laughed weakly.

"I want you to write to my servant, to bid him bring my baggage to the

nearest inn--"

"That will I not! I shall tell him to bring it here."

"But, Miss Betty, I cannot possibly trespass upon--"

"Will you have done? Trespass indeed!"

"I perceive I shall be much put upon," sighed Jack, and watched her

lightning smile.

"You BOY! Will you dictate?"

"Very well, ma'am. No, I have changed my mind. I'll have it writ to a

friend, please: 'Dear Miles.... True to my promise.... I write to

you.... In case ... you should be worried ... over my disappearance ...

be it known ... that I am at'--pray, madam, where am I?"

"Horton Manor, Littledean," she replied, writing it down.

"Thank you. 'I had the misfortune to injure my shoulder in a--"

"'And arm,'" put in the scribe, inexorably.

"'And arm, in a fight ... and a certain very ... kind lady--'"

"I refuse to write that rubbish! 'One of the ladies whom I rescued--'"

"Good heavens, madam, you've not put that?" cried Jack horrified.

She smiled reassuringly.

"I have not. I have put: 'My nurse is writing this for me.'"

"Madam, you are of a teasing disposition," reproved my lord.

"M--yes--'When you take Jenny--over to Trencham ... will you please tell

Jim to bring my baggage ... here at once?' Have you that, Miss Betty?"

"Yes."

"Remember me to Lady ... Molly, I beg ... and accept my apologies ...

and thanks.'" He paused. "Will you sign it J.C., please, and address it

to Sir Miles O'Hara, Thurze House, Maltby?"

"Sir Miles O'Hara! Is he your friend, Mr.--Mr.--I do not know your

name."

"Car--" began Jack, and stopped, biting his lip. "Carr," he continued

imperturbably, "John Carr. Do you know O'Hara, Miss Betty?"

"Me? No! Will he come to see you, do you think?"

"If you let him in, madam!"

"Gracious! Well, well! I'll tell Thomas to ride over with this at once."

"Miss Betty, you are marvellously good. I vow I can never thank--"

"Bless the boy! And what about yourself, pray? I shudder to think of

what might have happened to Di if you had not come up! 'Tis we can never

thank you enough."

Jack reddened boyishly and uncomfortably.

"Indeed, you exaggerate--"

"Tut, tut! Well, go to sleep, and never worry about anything till I

return. And you won't try and get up?"

He shook with laughter.

"I swear I will not! Even an you never return, I will lie here, wasting

away--" But he spoke to space, for with a delighted laugh she had left

the room.

It was not until late that afternoon that O'Hara arrived, and he was

conducted, after a brief conversation with Diana and her father, to my

lord's room, where Miss Betty received him with her cheery smile and

jerky curtsey.

"You'll not excite Mr. Carr?" she said, but was interrupted by my lord's

voice from within, weak but very gay.

"Come in, Miles, and never listen to Miss Betty! She is a tyrant and

denies me my wig!"

O'Hara laughed in answer to Miss Betty's quizzical smile, and strode

over to the bed. He gripped my lord's thin hand and frowned down at him

with an assumption of anger.

"Young good-for-nought! Could ye find nought better to do than to smash

yourself up and well-nigh drive your man crazy with fright?"

"Oh, pshaw! Did you find Jim?"

O'Hara looked round and saw that Miss Betty had discreetly vanished. He

sat gingerly down on the edge of the bed.

"Ay. I took the mare over as soon as I had your letter--and a fine scare

you gave me, Jack, I can tell you! She recognised him, and I accosted

him."

"I'll swear you did not get much satisfaction from Jim!" said my lord.

"Did he look very foolish?"

"To tell ye the truth, I thought the man was half daft, and wondered

whether I'd been after making a mistake. But in the end I got him to

believe what I was trying to tell him, and he has taken the mare, and

will bring your baggage along this evening. By the way, John, I told him

of our little meeting, and of your pistols being unloaded. He said 'twas

his fault, and ye never saw aught to touch his face! Put out was not the

word for it."

"I suppose so. Look here, Miles, this is a damned funny affair!"

"What happened to you exactly?"

"'Tis what I am about to tell you. After I had left you, I rode on quite

quietly for about an hour, and then came upon Miss Beauleigh's coach

stopped by three blackguards who were trying to drag her to another

coach belonging to the gentleman who conducted the affair. So, of

course, I dismounted, and went to see what was to be done."

"You _would_ be after poking your nose into what didn't concern ye. Four

men, and ye had the audacity to tackle them all? 'Tis mad ye are

entirely!"

"Of course, if you had been in my place you would have ridden off in

another direction--or aided the scoundrels?" was the scathing reply.

O'Hara chuckled.

"Well, go on, Jack. I'm not saying I don't wish I had been with ye."

"'Twould have been superb. I suppose Miss Beauleigh has told you most of

the tale, but there is one thing that she could not have told you, for

she did not know it: the man I fought with was Belmanoir."

"Thunder and turf! Not the Duke?"

"Yes. Tracy."

"Zounds! Did he know ye?"

"I cannot be certain. I was masked, of course, but he said he thought he

did. 'Twas at that moment he fired his pistol at me."

"The dirty scoundrel!"

"M'm--yes. 'Tis that which makes me think he did not know me. Damn it

all, Miles, even Tracy would not do a thing like that!"

"Would he not? If ye ask me, I say that Tracy is game enough for any

kind of devilry."

"But, my dear fellow, that is too black! He could not try to kill in

cold blood a man he had hunted with, and fenced with-and--and--no man

could!"

O'Hara looked extremely sceptical.

"Because ye could not yourself, is not to say that a miserable spalpeen

like Belmanoir could not."

"I don't believe it of him. We were always quite friendly--if it had

been Robert now--But I am not going to believe it. And don't say

anything to these people, O'Hara, because they do not know Devil. I

gather from what Miss Betty says, that he calls himself Everard. He met

the girl--Diana--at Bath; you know his way. She'd none of him: hence the

abduction."

"Heavens, but 'tis a foul mind the man's got!"

"Where women are concerned, yes. Otherwise--'tis not such a bad fellow,

Miles."

"I've no use for that kind of dirt myself, Jack."

"Oh, I don't know. I daresay we are none of us exactly saints." He

changed the subject abruptly. "How is Jenny?"

"Rather off her feed; missing you, I expect. I left her with your man.

He should be arriving soon, I should think. I don't fancy he'll waste

much time."

"Neither do I. Poor fellow, he must have worried terribly over his

worthless master."

"Sure, his face was as white as your own when I told him ye were

wounded!"

Carstares turned his head quickly.

"What's this about my face? Just be so kind as to hand me that mirror,

Miles."

O'Hara laughed and obeyed, watching my lord's close scrutiny of his

countenance with some surprise.

"Interesting pallor, my dear friend, interesting pallor. Nevertheless, I

am glad that Jim is on his way." He met O'Hara's eyes as he looked up,

and his lips quivered irrepressibly.

"You think me very vain, Miles?"

"Is it a pose of yours, John? Is it Sir Anthony Ferndale, Bart?"

"No. I believe it is myself. You see, when one has but one's self to

live for and think for--one makes the most of one's self! Hence my

vanity. Take the mirror away, please--the sight of my countenance

offends me!"

"Sure, ye are free with your orders, me lord!" said O'Hara, putting the

glass down on the table. "And, while I think of it--what might your name

be now?"

"John Carr--a slip of the tongue on my part, stopped in time. I hear my

mentor returning--and--Miles!"

"Well?"

"Come again!"

"Come again! My dear boy, ye'll be sick of the sight of me soon! I shall

be here every day."

"Thanks! It will take a good deal to sicken me, I think." He bit his

lip, turning his head away as Miss Betty came into the room.

"I'm afraid that you ought to leave my patient now, Sir Miles," she

said. "He has had enough excitement for one day, and should sleep." She

glanced at the averted head inquiringly. "I doubt he is tired?"

Jack turned and smiled at her.

"No, Miss Betty, I'm not. But I know you will refuse to believe me."

"My dear boy, do you know you have black lines beneath your eyes?"

"More remarks about my face!" he sighed, and glanced at O'Hara, who had

risen.

"You are quite right, Miss Beauleigh, I must go. May I come again

to-morrow?"

"Surely," she beamed. "We shall be delighted to welcome you."

O'Hara bent over the bed.

"Then _au revoir_, Jack. My lady sent her love to her 'Cousin

Harry'--the saucy puss!"

"Did she? How prodigious kind of her, Miles! And you'll give her mine,

and kiss her--"

"Yes?" said O'Hara with dangerous calm. "I'll kiss her what?"

"Her hand for me!" ended Carstares, bubbling over. "Good-bye, and thank

you--"

"That will suffice!" said Miles, cutting him short.

He bowed to Miss Betty and left the room.

The business-like little lady fluttered over to the bedside and

rearranged the pillows.

"Well, and are you satisfied?"

"Madam, most extraordinarily so, I thank you. I shall be getting up

soon."

"H'm!" was all she vouchsafed, and left him to his meditations.

As she had foreseen, he dozed a little, but his shoulder would not allow

him to sleep. He lay in a semi-comatose condition, his eyes shut, and a

deep furrow, telling of pain, between his brows.

The sound of a shutting door made him open his eyes; he turned his head

slightly and saw that Jim Salter was standing in the middle of the room

looking at him anxiously.

My lord returned his gaze crossly, and Jim waited for the storm to

break.

Carstares' heart melted, and he managed to smile.

"I'm monstrous glad to see you, Jim," he said.

"You--you can't mean that, sir! 'Twas I left your pistols unloaded."

"I know. Damned careless of you, but it's the sort of thing I should do

myself, after all."

Jim advanced to the bedside.

"Do you mean you forgive me, sir?"

"Why, of course! I could not have fired on my best friend in any case."

"No, sir, but that don't make it any better."

"It doesn't, of course, and I was rather annoyed at the time--Oh, devil

take you, Jim, don't look at me like that! I'm not dead yet!"

"If--if you had been killed, sir--'twould have been my fault."

"Rubbish! I'd a sword, hadn't I? For heaven's sake don't worry about it

any more! Have you brought all my baggage?"

"Yes, sir. It shan't occur again, sir."

"Certainly not. Jenny is well?"

"Splendid, sir. Will you still trust me with your pistols, sir?"

Carstares groaned.

"Will you have done? 'Twas an accident, and I have forgotten it. Here's

my hand on it!" He grasped Jim's as he spoke, and seemed to brush the

whole subject aside.

"Have you disposed of that horrible coat you tried to make me wear the

other day?"

"I gave it to the landlord, sir."

"I should have burned it, but perhaps he liked it."

"He did, sir. Will you try to go to sleep now?"

"If you had a shoulder on fire and aching as mine does, you wouldn't ask

such a ridiculous question," answered Jack snappishly.

"I'm sorry, sir. Is there aught I can do?"

"You can change the bandages, if you like. These are prodigious hot and

uncomfortable."

Without another word Salter set about easing his master, and he was so

painstaking and so careful not to hurt the ugly wound, and his face

expressed so much concern, that Carstares controlled a desire to swear

when he happened to touch a particularly tender spot, and at the end

rewarded him with a smile and a sigh of content.

"That is much better," he said. "You have such a light touch, Jim."

The man's face reddened with pleasure, but he said nothing, and walked

away to the window to draw the curtains.