The Masqueraders

‘You amaze the large gentleman, sir,’ said Robin dryly. ‘I am not altogether surprised.’

Sir Anthony swung round. ‘Were you in this?’ he asked, and there was that in his voice which made Prudence grimace oddly. ‘Am I to believe you were party to such a scheme?’

‘Acquit me, kind sir. My indignation almost equalled yours.’

Sir Anthony looked at him a moment, and appeared to be satisfied. He turned back to my lord, who was still dwelling fondly on his son’s prowess. ‘You must explain a little further, sir, if you please. I suppose you had some reason for this.’

The compelling gaze rested on him. ‘Certainly!’ said my lord. ‘Be very sure of it. I regard the whole affair as one of my chefs d’æuvres.’

‘Do you indeed?’ Sir Anthony was again sardonic. ‘Make it plain to me, sir. I beg of you! I am unable to appreciate it at present.’

Prudence interposed. ‘You had best be frank with Tony, sir. He knows us for escaped Jacobites.’

My lord appeared to censure the term. ‘My child, I live in the present, not in the past. Not even I could save the Prince’s affairs from being bungled: I reject his whole cause. It was a venture not worthy of me. Do not call me a Jacobite.’

‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ Prudence bowed. ‘Say then only that Sir Anthony knows the truth concerning us.’

‘I deplore the indiscretion,’ said my lord. He became reproachful. ‘Never divulge more than is necessary, my Prudence. Surely I taught you that lesson many years ago!’

‘To be frank, sir, the gentleman had already guessed it.’

Robin arose from his seat by the window. ‘No matter. The whole scheme was complicated beyond your imagination, Sir Anthony.’

‘Subtle,’ amended his lordship.

‘Tortuous, sir. You’re to know, Fanshawe, that my father was unwise enough to set his name to a certain treasonable letter.’

‘An indiscretion,’ said my lord. ‘I admit it. But it was not my own name, Robin. Do not forget that.’

Sir Anthony was surprised. ‘I had not thought that of you, my lord. It seems unlike you.’

My lord was at once benevolent. ‘You are blessed with a good understanding, my dear sir. I have admitted an indiscretion. One is sometimes carried away by one’s enthusiasms. You see that even I can make mistakes. A lesson may be learned from that.’

‘Give me leave, sir,’ interrupted Robin. ‘This letter, Sir Anthony, came into the hands of the late Mr Markham, who thought to sell it to my father at a fabulous price. You take me?’

Sir Anthony nodded. ‘There’s a ray of daylight,’ he said.

‘There shall be more. My father held in his possession a letter writ by Sir Humphrey Grayson, containing half-promises to help the Prince’s cause. It does not surprise you?’

‘Only that your father should have the letter. The rest I knew.’

‘Then there is nothing in the world to surprise you. When you know my father better you will know that he would of course hold the letter.’

‘Don’t cry God forfend, sir!’ Prudence said on a chuckle. ‘Spare our filial feelings!’

My lord held up his hand. ‘My daughter, Sir Anthony must surely realise that it is a privilege to know me.’

Sir Anthony’s mouth twitched at the corners. ‘I wonder if Markham thought so?’ he said. ‘Proceed, Robin. I begin to understand.’

‘My father, sir, exchanged letters, and that is all there is to it. He assures me that there were at least a dozen other ways of getting Markham’s paper from him, but this one appeared to him to be the neatest.’

‘Of course,’ said his lordship. ‘It needs no explanation. I was able thus to rid myself for ever of my Munich friend, and to present my son to Miss Grayson in the role of a hero. I surpassed myself.’ He became aware of Sir Anthony’s wondering gaze upon him, and waved his handkerchief gracefully. ‘You are spell-bound. I expected it. You can never before have seen my like.’

‘Never, upon my honour!’ said Sir Anthony emphatically.

‘And you never will again, my son,’ said his lordship with a touch of vicarious regret.

‘Thank God fasting,’ advised Robin.