Fifteen
Challenge to Mr Merriot
There was no means of telling what John, that stolid creature, made of the situation. His young master and mistress suspected him of being deeper in the old gentleman’s secrets than they were, but he had never a word to say on the matter. When my lord had made his first startling appearance they came home and told him of it, and awaited some show of surprise. It was not forthcoming. John gave a grunt and said that he had doubted but that the old gentleman would arrive soon. As to the manner of his arrival, John seemed to think it natural enough, and he never failed thereafter to give my lord his title. The old gentleman had greeted him with an affectionate smile, and a hand carelessly outflung. John had looked beneath his brows and said gruffly that the affair of Master Robin must be seen to. He further volunteered the opinion that Robin’s present guise was unseemly. As for Miss Prue, the sooner she was got out of this coil the better. John had a grim way with him, but they had none of them the need ever to stand in doubt of his devotion. Nothing could abate the supreme belief in himself that my lord held, but certainly he used fewer extravagancies with his servant than with his children, and would condescend to listen to John’s disapproving words. But not even John could hope to make much impression on that magnificent mind. My lord waved a hand, and promised ultimate success.
‘You’re playing a game I don’t understand, my lord,’ John said severely. ‘It’s more of your play-acting, for sure, but why you should do it, sir, I can’t see.’
‘I plan a great coup,’ my lord assured him. ‘There must never be aught crude in my actions, John. There has never been. I go warily, and I contrive. Oh, but I contrive a tour de force ! Continue to watch over my children!’
‘It’s well there’s someone to do it, my lord,’ said John. ‘For it’s little care of them you’d be taking. Masquerades and the like!’
‘My John, you are foolish. You lack understanding. My wing is spread over the children, as ever.’
‘There’s this Miss Grayson,’ John continued, entirely ignoring his lordship. ‘Master Robin must needs set his fancy on her. I’d a word or two with Sir Humphrey’s man, and it’s little hope there is that he’d countenance such a marriage.’
The old gentleman half closed his eyes. ‘He shall countenance it, John. If I were to fail in my claim, which is not possible, he should countenance it. You shall all of you dance to my piping.’ He smiled with delight at the thought. In some things he had the mind of a child.
‘There’s one that won’t dance to your piping, my lord,’ was John’s parting shot. ‘And that’s Miss Prue’s sleepy gentleman!’
My lord wasted as much as three minutes on the consideration of this announcement, but arrived at the conclusion that there could be no truth in it. He could never be got to doubt his own powers.
It was understood in polite circles that Mr Rensley had had disturbing news from his lawyers regarding the claim. It was soon bruited abroad that these men thought some inquiry should be made into his lordship’s past before he should be positively declared Tremaine of Barham. My lord seemed to be quite content with this decision. He smiled, and put his finger-tips together as his habit was, and begged the lawyers to make what enquiries they would. Meanwhile he continued to parade the town.
Mr Rensley was soon infuriated to find that his supposed cousin’s past was hidden in an obscurity there seemed to be no hope of piercing. Inquiries led precisely nowhere. It was true that a Mr Challoner had once kept a gaming-house in Munich, and it was believed he had gone thence to Rome. But there could be found no trace of him in that ancient city. Indeed, how should there be? Had these seekers after truth mentioned the name of a German baron who had stayed in Rome some years ago they might have learned something of considerable interest from those who remembered that remarkable gentleman. But the seekers, unfortunately, had never heard of the baron, and they were forced to abandon the search for truth.
My lord was understood now to have two children. He spoke of them enthusiastically upon all occasions. Sir Anthony, hearing him, said humorously: ‘It seems you are to be congratulated, sir.’
‘You have said it!’ His lordship turned his compelling gaze upon the immovable large gentleman. ‘My daughter – my Prudence! A Venus!’ He looked soulful. ‘I say it who should not. She favours her mother, my poor Maria. A statue carved in ivory and rose! A goddess, with a voice of gold! Soon you shall see her,’ he promised.
‘Egad, we’re agog to, sir!’ said Mr Molyneux, smothering a grin. ‘And is your son thus godlike too?’
‘My little Robin!’ sighed his lordship. ‘He has not the height for it, alack! But he is well enough. To see him in the duello is to say he is incomparable. I pine to clasp them to me once more.’
‘And – if one is permitted to ask,’ said Sir Anthony, observing a speck of dust on his great cuff through a levelling quizzing-glass. ‘Where are these two paragons?’
‘It is permitted. They stay with a friend in France. I send for them when this business is at an end.’
‘Did you ever see or hear the like?’ demanded Sir Raymond Orton when the old gentleman had gone.
‘A most remarkable man,’ said Sir Anthony, and yawned behind his scented handkerchief.
Prudence herself, encountering my lord at Lady Elton’s rout one evening, was informed that she too should have the felicity of meeting his daughter. She bowed politely, and professed herself to be enchanted by the prospect.
A new piece of information was very soon passed from mouth to mouth. It appeared that no one could discover whence my lord had sprung when he came to make his claim. It had been supposed that he came from France, but no trace of him could be found either at Calais or on the packet boat. He seemed to have sprung up out of the earth in a manner most mysterious, and he could not be identified with any traveller from France for weeks past.
It was Mr Devereux who conceived the brilliant notion that my lord had not been in France at all, but even this flash of insight failed to lead anywhere.
Prudence, remembering past traffickings, guessed that my lord had been a passenger on one of those crafts that carefully avoid all ports and King’s ships, but put into land in odd out-of-the-way coves under cover of night. But this she kept to herself.
Mr Devereux begged her to say whether or no she credited my lord’s claim. She laughed, and tapped her riding whip against her boot. ‘Why, sir, it’s not for me to hazard an opinion. But it seems to me that his lordship was born to the part.’
‘True, very true,’ nodded Mr Devereux. ‘Charles was saying only this moment he has more the manner of it than our friend Rensley.’
‘He could scarcely have less,’ said Prudence dryly.
There was a heavy footstep behind her. By an evil chance Mr Rensley had entered the room at that instant, and was bearing down upon the group by the fire. He came fresh from a gloomy interview with his lawyer; he was conscious that everywhere his chances were being discussed. And now he entered White’s to hear a young upstart from the country pass disparaging remarks upon himself. He strode therefore straight up to Prudence, and with a look in his eyes not at all pleasant, rapped out: ‘Who could not have less of what, my fine sir?’
It was evident that Rensley had heard all. Mr Devereux coughed and gazed at the ceiling, reflecting that it was like Rensley to choose a suckling for his prey.