"Very deep, Frank! You think I shall be on the road to recovery? Apretty conceit. Luckily, the happy moment has not yet come--and I do notthink it is like to. We appear to have arrived."
They were standing outside one of the tall houses where Fortescuelodged. He turned and grasped his friend's shoulders.
"Tracy, give up this mad life you lead! Give up the women and the drink,and the excessive gaming; for one day, believe me, you will overstepyourself and be ruined!"
The Duke disengaged himself.
"I very much object to being man-handled in the street," he complained."I suppose you still _mean_ well. You should strive to conquer thetendency."
"I wonder if you know how insolent is your tone, Belmanoir?" askedFortescue steadily.
"Naturally. I should not have attained such perfection in the art else.But pray accept my thanks for your good advice. You will forgive me an Ido not avail myself of it, I am sure. I prefer the crooked path."
"Evidently," sighed the other. "If you will not try the straight andnarrow way, I can only hope that you will fall very deeply and veryhonestly in love; and that the lady will save you from yourself."
"I will inform you of it when it comes to pass," promised his Grace."And now: good-night!"
"Good-night!" Frank returned the low bow with a curt nod. "I shall seeyou to-morrow--that is, this morning--at the Baths?"
"Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," was the smilingrejoinder. "Sleep soundly, Frank!" He waved an ironic farewell andcrossed the road to his own lodgings, which stood almost directlyopposite.
"And I suppose _you_ will sleep as soundly as if you had not a stain onyour conscience--and had not tried your uttermost to alienate the regardof the only friend you possess," remarked Frank bitterly
to thedarkness. "Damn you, Tracy, for the villain you are!" He walked up thesteps to his own front door and turned the key in the lock. He lookedover his shoulder as a door slammed across the street. "Poor Devil!" hesaid. "Oh, you poor Devil!"
CHAPTER VIII
THE BITER BIT
With John Carstares the winter had passed quite uneventfully. Hecontinued his highway robbery, but he made two bad blunders--not fromthe point of view of a thief, but from that of the gentleman in him. Thefirst was when he stopped an opulent-looking chariot, which he found tocontain two ladies, their maid and their jewels, and the second when theoccupant of a large travelling coach chanced to be an old gentleman whopossessed far greater courage than physical strength. On the firstoccasion my lord's dismay had been ludicrous, and he had hastily retiredafter tendering a naive apology. The old gentleman in the second episodehad defied him so gallantly that he had impulsively offered him the buttend of one of his pistols. The old man was so surprised that he allowedthe weapon to fall to the ground, where it exploded quite harmlessly,sending up a cloud of dust and smoke. Carstares then begged his pardonmost humbly, assisted him back into his coach, and rode off before theastonished Mr. Dunbar had time to collect his wits.
The robbing was not carried out in a very scientific manner, for, as hasbeen seen, Carstares could not bring himself to terrorise women or oldmen, and there only remained the young and the middle-aged gentlemen,one of whom Jack offered to fight for the possession of his jewels. Hischallenge was promptly accepted by the man, who happened to possess astrong sense of humour, and probably saw a chance of saving hisbelongings in the offer. He had been speedily worsted, but Carstares wasso pleased with a particularly neat thrust which he had executed, thathe forwent half the booty, and the pair of them divided the contents ofthe jewel-box by the roadside, the sporting gentleman keeping his mostvalued belongings and giving Jack the surplus. They parted on the verybest of terms, and all Carstares got out of the episode was a littlesword practice and a few trinkets.
When day came he was patrolling the west side of Sussex, beyondMidhurst, not because he thought it a profitable part, but because heknew and loved the country. One late afternoon towards the end of themonth he rode gaily into one of the small villages that nestle amongstthe Downs, and made his way down the quaint main street to the GeorgeInn, where he drew rein and dismounted. At his call an aged ostlerhobbled out of a side door, chewing an inevitable straw, and aftereyeing the newcomer and his steed for an appreciable length of time,evidently decided that they were worthy of his attention, for he cameforward, remarking that it had been a pleasant day.
Carstares agreed with him, and volunteered the information that it wouldbe another fine day to-morrow, if the sunset were to be trusted. To thisthe ostler replied that he, for one, never trusted to no red sunsets,and added darkly that there warn't nothing so deceitful to his manner o'thinking. He'd known it be such a red sunset as never was, and yet bea-pouring with rain all next day.... Should he take the mare?
Carstares shook his head.
"No, I thank you. I remain here but a few moments. I doubt she's thirstythough--eh, Jenny?"
"Water, sir?"
"For her, yes. For myself I fancy a tankard of your home-brewed ale.Stand, Jenny!" He turned away and walked up the steps to the inn door.
"Be you a-going to leave her there, sir--a-standing all by herself?"inquired the man, surprised.
"Why, yes! She's docile enough."
"Well! Seems to me a risky thing to leave a hoss--and a skittish hoss atthat--a-standing loose in the road. Ye won't be tying her to a post,master?"
Carstares leaned his arms on the balustrade and looked down at them.
"I will not. She'd be very hurt at such treatment, wouldn't you, lass?"
Jenny tossed her head playfully, as if in agreement, and the ostlerscratched his head, looking from her to my lord:
"A'most seems as if she understands what you be a-saying to her, sir!"