April Lady

‘If you ain’t stale-drunk in the morning, come round to my place, and I’ll dashed well show you how cowhearted I am!’ promised Mr Hethersett, stung by these opprobrious terms. ‘It’ll be bellows to mend with you, what’s more! I’ve seen you sport your canvas at Jackson’s, and when it comes to handy-blows you ain’t any better than a moulder!’

‘Now, by God – !’ ejaculated the Viscount, squaring up to him.

The jarvey called out approvingly: ‘A mill, a mill!’ Nell flung herself between the two incensed gentlemen; and Mr Fancot, who had been standing wrapped in thought, suddenly announced his intention of driving to Watier’s in the hack, and disappeared round the back of the coach.

‘Dysart, how dare you be so uncivil!’ Nell said hotly. ‘Pray don’t heed him, Felix! I was never so mortified! Dysart, if you say another word to Felix –’

‘It don’t signify!’ interrupted Mr Hethersett, who had had time to recollect the impropriety of engaging in fisticuffs in a lady’s presence. ‘Forgot myself!’ he looked at the Viscount. ‘If you want to fight, you can tell me so tomorrow! I’m going to escort her ladyship home now.’

‘Oh, no, you ain’t!’ retorted the Viscount. ‘I am going to take her home! Yes, and I’m dashed well going to tell Cardross what sort of a May-game you’ve been playing, my buck!’

‘Oh, dear, what are we to do?’ said Nell distractedly. ‘Felix, there are a couple of men coming towards us!’

‘Good God! There’s nothing for it: we shall have to take him along with us. Get into the hack, cousin!’

‘Take him with us! But if Cardross sees him in this shocking state – !’

r /> ‘Lord, Giles knows what he is!’ said Mr Hethersett impatiently.

‘Good heavens!’ said Nell rather faintly. ‘Then that must have been what he meant! How very dreadful!’

‘Here, wait a bit!’ suddenly said the Viscount. ‘Where’s Corny? Can’t leave Corny behind: it’s his birthday!’

‘Well, thank goodness he has gone at least!’ said Nell, as Mr Hethersett handed her up into the coach. ‘If only we could persuade Dy – Oh!’

‘Good God, what’s the matter?’ demanded Mr Hethersett, as she recoiled from the vehicle.

‘He hasn’t gone!’ said Nell despairingly. ‘He’s inside, and I think he’s fallen asleep!’

‘Well, I’ll be gormed!’ exclaimed the jarvey, peering into the coach. ‘’E must have crope round when I wasn’t a-watching of ’im, and got in by t’other door. Now we’ll ’ave to ’aul ’im out again!’

‘No, no, pray don’t!’ begged Nell, hurriedly getting into the coach. ‘Only let us go away from here!’

‘But I can’t let you drive about the town with a couple of ensign-bearers!’ expostulated Mr Hethersett. ‘Oh, my God, if it ain’t Bottisham bearing down on us! Well, that settles it: we can’t stay here another moment! Here, Dysart, stop looking for Fancot under the hack! He’s in it!’ With this, he thrust the Viscount into the coach, gave a hurried direction to the jarvey, climbed into the coach himself, and slammed the door.

Fourteen

It seemed at first as though the drive to Grosvenor Square was to be enlivened by a brawl, for although the Viscount’s mind had been diverted by the loss of his friend, this aberration was but of short duration. No sooner had he satisfied himself that Mr Fancot was still with them than he discovered that Mr Hethersett was also with them, and took instant exception to his presence. However, before he could attempt to carry out his promise to throw him out Mr Fancot, roused by the jolting of the wheels over the cobblestones, woke up, and demanded to know where he was.

‘Never mind that!’ said the Viscount. ‘Here’s this curst fellow, Hethersett, got in with us! Help me to throw him out, will you?’

‘No, no, can’t do that!’ said Mr Fancot, who was filled with a large tolerance. ‘Very good sort of a man! Didn’t know I’d invited him, but very glad he came.’

‘You didn’t invite him! Nobody invited him!’ said the Viscount.

‘Must have,’ said Mr Fancot. ‘Wouldn’t have come if I hadn’t. Polite to a point! Happy to take a glass of wine with him.’

‘Well, if ever I saw old Corny so castaway!’ exclaimed Dysart. ‘Dashed if he ain’t as drunk as a wheelbarrow!’

‘Yes, but at least he is perfectly amiable!’ said Nell. ‘He doesn’t say outrageous things, or try to throw people into the street!’

This unfortunate remark reminded the Viscount that his purpose was still unaccomplished, but just at that moment Mr Fancot began to warble an entirely unintelligible ditty. Since he was apparently afflicted with tone-deafness this musical interlude was a severe trial to the rest of the company, and caused the Viscount to forget Mr Hethersett again. ‘Stop it, Corny!’ he said indignantly.

‘Chip-chip, cherry-chip, fol-di-diddle-di-dee!’ sang Mr Fancot.

‘That’s not right!’ said Dysart scornfully. ‘It don’t even make sense!’ He then upraised his powerful baritone, and favoured the company with the correct version, which, as far as his sister could discover, differed hardly at all from his friend’s. But Mr Hethersett, unmoved by Mr Fancot’s outburst, was powerfully affected by the Viscount’s. No sooner did the refrain of Chip-chow, cherry-chow, fol-lol-di-riddle-low break upon his ears than Nell felt him stiffen, and heard him utter an exclamation under his breath.

The Viscount beguiled the rest of the way with song, and was still singing when Cardross’s astonished butler admitted the party into the house.