The Black Moth

When the lawyer dared openly to ask if he had had any dealings withhighwaymen of late, he was properly and thoroughly affronted.

The lawyer became suddenly more at ease. He eyed Mr. Chadberspeculatively, holding a pinch of snuff to one thin nostril.

"Perhaps you have staying here a certain--ah--Sir--Anthony--Ferndale?"he hazarded.

The gentle air of injury fell from Mr. Chadber. Certainly he had, andcome only yesterday a-purpose to meet his solicitor.

The lawyer nodded.

"I am he. Be so good as to apprise Sir Anthony of my arrival."

Mr. Chadber bowed exceeding low, and implored the lawyer not to remainin the draughty coffee-room. Sir Anthony would never forgive him an heallowed his solicitor to await him there. Would he not come to SirAnthony's private parlour?

The very faintest of smiles creased the lawyer's thin face as he walkedalong the passage in Mr. Chadber's wake.

He was ushered into a low-ceilinged, pleasant chamber looking out on tothe quiet street, and left alone what time Mr. Chadber went in search ofSir Anthony.

The room was panelled and ceilinged in oak, with blue curtains to thewindows and blue cushions on the high-backed settle by the fire. A tablestood in the centre of the floor, with a white table-cloth thereon andplaces laid for two. Another smaller table stood by the fireplace,together with a chair and a stool.

The lawyer took silent stock of his surroundings, and reflected grimlyon the landlord's sudden change of front. It would appear that SirAnthony was a gentleman of some standing at the Chequers.

Yet the little man was plainly unhappy, and fell to pacing to and fro,his chin sunk low on his breast, and his

hands clasped behind his back.He was come to seek the disgraced son of an Earl, and he was afraid ofwhat he might find.

Six years ago Lord John Carstares, eldest son of the Earl of Wyncham,had gone with his brother, the Hon. Richard, to a card party, and hadreturned a dishonoured man.

That Jack Carstares should cheat was incredible, ridiculous, and atfirst no one had believed the tale that so quickly spread. But he hadconfirmed that tale himself, defiantly and without shame, before ridingoff, bound, men said, for France and the foreign parts. Brother Richardwas left, so said the countryside, to marry the lady they were both inlove with. Nothing further had been heard of Lord John, and the outragedEarl forbade his name to be mentioned at Wyncham, swearing to disinheritthe prodigal. Richard espoused the fair Lady Lavinia and brought her tolive at the great house, strangely forlorn now without Lord John'smagnetic presence; but, far from being an elated bridegroom, he seemedto have brought gloom with him from the honeymoon, so silent and sounhappy was he.

Six years drifted slowly by without bringing any news of Lord John, andthen, two months ago, journeying from London to Wyncham, Richard's coachhad been waylaid, and by a highwayman who proved to be none other thanthe scapegrace peer.

Richard's feelings may be imagined. Lord John had been singularlyunimpressed by anything beyond the humour of the situation. That,however, had struck him most forcibly, and he had burst out into a fitof laughter that had brought a lump into Richard's throat, and a freshache into his heart.

Upon pressure John had given his brother the address of the inn, "incase of accidents," and told him to ask for "Sir Anthony Ferndale" ifever he should need him. Then with one hearty handshake, he had gallopedoff into the darkness....

The lawyer stopped his restless pacing to listen. Down the passage wascoming the tap-tap of high heels on the wooden floor, accompanied by aslight rustle as of stiff silks.

The little man tugged suddenly at his cravat. Supposing--supposingdebonair Lord John was no longer debonair? Supposing--he dared notsuppose anything. Nervously he drew a roll of parchment from his pocketand stood fingering it.

A firm hand was laid on the door-handle, turning it cleanly round. Thedoor opened to admit a veritable apparition, and was closed again with asnap.

The lawyer found himself gazing at a slight, rather tall gentleman whoswept him a profound bow, gracefully flourishing his smartthree-cornered hat with one hand and delicately clasping cane andperfumed handkerchief with the other. He was dressed in the height ofthe Versailles fashion, with full-skirted coat of palest lilac lacedwith silver, small-clothes and stockings of white, and waistcoat offlowered satin. On his feet he wore shoes with high red heels and silverbuckles, while a wig of the latest mode, marvellously powdered andcurled and smacking greatly of Paris, adorned his shapely head. In thefoaming lace of his cravat reposed a diamond pin, and on the slim hand,half covered by drooping laces, glowed and flashed a huge emerald.

The lawyer stared and stared again, and it was not until a pair of deepblue, rather wistful eyes met his in a quizzical glance, that he foundhis tongue. Then a look of astonishment came into his face, and he tooka half step forward.

"Master Jack!" he gasped. "Master--_Jack_!"

The elegant gentleman came forward and held up a reproving hand. Thepatch at the corner of his mouth quivered, and the blue eyes danced.

"I perceive that you are not acquainted with me, Mr. Warburton," hesaid, amusement in his pleasant, slightly drawling voice. "Allow me topresent myself: Sir Anthony Ferndale, _a vous servir_!"

A gleam of humour appeared in the lawyer's own eyes as he clasped theoutstretched hand.

"I think you are perhaps not acquainted with yourself, my lord," heremarked drily.

Lord John laid his hat and cane on the small table, and looked faintlyintrigued.

"What's your meaning, Mr. Warburton?"