The Unknown Ajax (30 page)

“Hugo. I want to speak to you,” he replied.

There was the sound of an impatient exclamation, followed by the rattle of curtain-rings along a rod, and a creak which indicated that Richmond had got out of bed. The key turned in the well-oiled lock, and the door was pulled open.

“What the devil do you want?” Richmond said crossly. “I thought you knew I hate to be disturbed at night!”

“I do,” said Hugo. “It had me in a bit of a puzzle to understand why, too. Nay, don’t stand there holding the door! I’m coming in, and it’s not a bit of use scowling at me. You can get back into bed, and we’re going to have a talk, you and I.”

“At this hour?” Richmond ejaculated. “I’ll be damned if I do!”

“I don’t know about that, but I do know that I’ll toss you into bed if you don’t do as you’re bid,” responded Hugo, wresting the door from his hold and shutting it. He held up the candlestick, and looked round. The room was a large one, with a four-poster bed standing out into it. A glance showed Hugo that the curtains had been thrust back from one side, and the bedclothes flung off. Not far from it, a chair stood, with a coat thrown carelessly on to it. Hugo’s gaze alighted on this, and travelled to where a pair of breeches and a shirt lay untidily on the floor. “You did undress in a hurry, didn’t you?” he said.

Richmond, climbing into bed again, linked his hands behind his head, and said, with a yawn: “I wish you will say what you want, and go away! I shan’t get a wink of sleep now: I never can, if I’m wakened.”

Hugo set his candle down on the table beside the bed, and lightly clasped the other which stood there. He said, smiling: “Nay, lad, I don’t think you were asleep: your candle’s still warm.”

“I suppose I had just dropped off. That’s worse! O God, you sit on the bed?” Hugo paid no heed to this complaint (for which there was some justification, as his weight bore the springs down ominously), but said: “Richmond, my lad, you’ve not been to sleep at all, and those clothes you’ve just stripped off weren’t the ones you were wearing at dinner, so let’s have no more humbug! Not half an hour ago you were playing hide-and-seek over at the Dower House! And from the hasty way you got between sheets I think you’d a shrewd notion you’d be receiving a visit from me.”

Richmond’s eyes gleamed under his down-dropped lids. “Oh, have you seen the ghost, cousin?”

“No.”

Richmond chuckled. “Didn’t I hoax you? I made sure I should! What made you suspect—Oh, I suppose it was what Claud said!”

“You didn’t hoax anyone, and it wasn’t me you were trying to hoax, was it?” “Of course it was! I saw you set out, and guessed what you meant to do, so I followed you. Didn’t you think I made a good ghost? I think I did!”

“Nay, you didn’t follow me. You were there before me,” replied Hugo. “You came round the corner of the house, and you couldn’t have crossed the path between the shrubbery and the house unbeknownst to me.”

“But I could get into the garden from the shrubbery, and keep under cover there until the house shut me from your view.”

“Ay, you could have done that,” agreed Hugo. “Did Spurstow tell you that I visited the place before, on the same errand?”

Richmond laughed. “Of course!”

“And that Ottershaw was watching the house himself?” “No, is he?”

“Come, lad, you knew that!”

“How should I know it?” Richmond countered.

“Probably because Spurstow told you, and if it wasn’t he I’ve a notion you’ve other sources of information. Between the pair of you, you’ve scared Ottershaw’s men, but when you set out to scare him you made a back-cast, Richmond: he wasn’t scared, and he wasn’t deceived. If I hadn’t stopped him he might well have caught you.” “Not he! Much good would it have done him if he had, too!”

“So I told him,” said Hugo. “It would have done him no good, but it would have done you no good either.”

“Why, is there a law against bamboozling Excisemen?” asked Richmond, opening his eyes wider.

Hugo looked rather gravely down at him. “For what purpose?” “Oh, just kicking up a lark!”

“Is that why you did it?”

“Yes, of course: why else should I do it?” Richmond said impatiently. “That’s what I don’t know, lad, but I think you’re too old to be kicking up that sort of a lark.” The impish gleam had faded from Richmond’s dark eyes; the look he shot at Hugo was one of smouldering resentment. “Maybe! What the devil else have I to do? In any event, what concern is it of yours? I wish you will go away!”

“Happen I will, when you stop trying to stall me off, and give me a plain answer,” Hugo replied, a little sternly. “I’ve a notion you’re in dangerous mischief. If I’m right, you’re likely to find yourself floored at all points, for Ottershaw’s not the clodhead you think him. Don’t play off your cajolery on me, but tell me the truth! Have you embroiled yourself in the smuggling trade?”

Richmond sat up with a jerk. “Well, upon my word—! What next will you ask me? Just because I cut a lark with that stiff-rumped Exciseman you seem to think I’m as good as rope-ripe! Why should I take to free-trading, pray?”

“For sport,” replied Hugo, smiling faintly. “Because it’s a dead bore to have nothing to do but mind your book—which I’ve yet to see you do!—and dance attendance on your grandfather. I own, the life you’re made to lead would be out of cry to me, as it is to you. If you’re helping to run contraband goods, it’s because you like the adventure, not for gain.” His smile broadened as he saw Richmond glance strangely at him. “Well, has that hit the needle?” Richmond lay down again, this time on his side, pillowing his cheek on his hand. “Lord, no! I played ghost for sport. Famous sport it was, too! You should have seen those cowhearted dragoons huddling together! I made ’em take to their heels once. However, if Ottershaw’s rumbled me there’s no sense in continuing. I won’t do it again: are you satisfied?” Hugo shook his head. “Not quite. What makes you lock your door every night?” “How do you know that I do?” Richmond countered quickly, up in arms. “Eh, there’s no secret about it! Everyone in the house knows it. You take precious good care no one should come near you once you’ve gone to bed, don’t you?”

“Yes, and you’ve been told why!”

“I’ve been told that if you’re roused you don’

t drop off to sleep again, and I think—not to take packthread, you young gull-catcher!—that that’s humdudgeon!”

Richmond gave a little chuckle. “Oh, no! Not wholly! But there are nights when I don’t sleep much. If you must know, when that happens I can’t lie counting the minutes: I get up, and go out, if there’s moonlight. And sometimes I go out with Jem Hordle, fishing. Well, that’s why I take care no one shall come tapping at my door! If my mother knew, or Grandpapa—Lord, what a clutter there would be! They want to keep me wrapped in lambswool: you know that! As for taking the Seamew out at night—particularly since my uncle and Oliver were drowned—if either of them so much as suspected I did that—oh, I’d be so watched and guarded I should run mad!”

Hugo said nothing for a moment or two, but sat looking down at Richmond with a slight frown in his eyes. The explanation was reasonable, but he thought the boy was on the defensive, watching him from under his lashes, a guarded look on his face, a hint of tauntness about him.

It was Richmond who broke the silence, saying sweetly: “May I try now if I can go to sleep, cousin?”

“I suppose so,” Hugo answered, getting up. He hesitated, and then said: “You’ve told me you’re not meddling in contraband, and I hope that was the truth, because if it wasn’t you won’t be the only one to fall all-a-bits. You’ve listened to a deal of loose talk about free-trading, lad, but if it were to come out that you’d had a hand in such dealings there’s no one who would be more over-powered than your grandfather.”

“Oh, go to the devil!” snapped Richmond, with a spurt of temper. “You needn’t be afraid! Do you mean to tell him that you think I’m a free-trader? I wish I may be present! No, I don’t, though: I hate brangles! As for what I choose to do when I can’t sleep, you’ve no right to scold: you’re not my guardian, or—or even head of the family—yet!” “Nay, did I do that?” asked Hugo, mildly surprised.

There was an angry flush on Richmond’s cheek, but it faded. He muttered: “No—I beg pardon! But I can’t endure—oh, well, it’s no matter!”

Hugo picked up his candlestick saying, with his slow grin: “Can’t endure to be interfered with, eh? It’s high time you learned discipline, you meedless colt—military discipline! I’m not the head of the family, but happen I’ll help you to that pair of colours, if you don’t bring yourself to ruin before I’ve a chance to do it.”

Richmond smiled wryly. “Thank you! You can’t do it, however. When I’m of age—oh, talking pays no toll! I shall be at Oxford then, I daresay.”

“I doubt it! In the meantime, lad, tread the lineway, and never mind if it’s a bore. I mislike the cut of that Riding-officer. He’s mighty suspicious of you, and though I wouldn’t say he was down to every move on the board, he’s by no means the sapskull you think him.” A little, confident smile curled Richmond’s mouth. “He’s been outjockeyed again and again—by what I’ve heard.” “Ay, and he’s not the man to cry craven,” said Hugo significantly. “He don’t love you, Richmond, and if he thought he could bowl you out he’d do it.”

“But he can’t.”

“I hope he can’t, but chance it happens that you find yourself in a hobble, don’t throw your cap after it, but come to me! I’ve been in more than one tight squeeze in my time.” “Much obliged to you!” Richmond murmured. “It’s midsummer moon with you, you know, but I’m persuaded you mean it kindly! Do go to bed, Hugo! I’m so very sleepy!”

Chapter 15

Richmond did not look, on the following morning, as though he could have been as sleepy as he said he was when Hugo left him. He went riding as usual before breakfast, but when his mother and his grandfather saw him each perceived immediately that he was heavy-eyed, and a little pale. He was subjected to a cross-fire of anxious solicitude on the one hand and rigorous interrogation on the other, and bore it with such patience that Hugo marvelled at his restraint. His eyes met Hugo’s once, in a look ridiculously compound of defiance and entreaty. He won no response, but derived considerable reassurance from his large cousin’s expression, which was one of bovine stupidity. Since he did not think that Hugo was at all stupid, he interpreted this as a sign that he had no immediate intention of disclosing the previous night’s events to Lord Darracott, and did not again glance in his direction.

That swift, challenging look had not, however, escaped his sister’s notice, and at the earliest opportunity she commanded Hugo to explain its meaning. Even less than Richmond was she beguiled by his air of childlike incomprehension. She said severely: “And pray don’t stare at me as though you were a moonling!”

“Nay, love, that’s not kind!” protested the Major, much hurt. “I know I’m not needle-witted, but I’m not a moonling!”

“You’re the slyest thing in nature!” his love informed him with great frankness. “But I myself am pretty well up to snuff, so don’t think to tip me a rise, if you please! You’ll make wretched work of it.”

Shocked by this forthright speech, he said: “Eh, you mustn’t talk like that, lass! You’ll be setting folks in a regular bustle! That’s a very ungenteel thing to say: even I know that!” “Forgive me, cousin!” she begged, primming up her mouth. “I meant, of course, that it is useless to think you can deceive me!”

“That’s much more seemly,” he said approvingly.

“Yes, but I now find myself at a loss to know how to advise you, in polite language, not to draw herrings across the track in the vain hope that you’ll persuade me to run counter!” she retorted.

“Oh, I’d never be able to do that!”

“Well, I’m happy to know you’re awake upon that suit, at all events!” She looked up into his face, smiling a little wistfully. “Don’t quiz me, Hugo! Why did Richmond look at you like that? As if he was afraid of you—afraid you were going to say something he didn’t wish you to! Tell me what it was—pray tell me, Hugo!”

He possessed himself of her hands, and held them clasped together against his chest. Smiling reassuringly down at her, he said: “Now, what’s made you so hot in the spur, love? And just what sort of a queer nabs do you think I am?”

“Oh, no, no, I don’t think that!” she said quickly.

“Well, I’d be a very queer nabs if I’d a secret with Richmond, and blabbed it to you!” he replied. “Nay then! don’t look so fatched! All Richmond was afraid of was that I might say something, in my dumpish way, which he’d as lief wasn’t said before his mother and the old gentleman. And I can’t say I blame him,” he added reflectively. “To hear the pair of them talk you’d think he was eight years old instead of eighteen!”

She nodded. “Yes, I know that. Do I seem a dreadful pea-goose? I daresay I am!” “You do and-all!” he told her lovingly.

“What a truly detestable creature you are!” she remarked. “I collect Richmond was not tossing restless in his bed, but was not, in fact, in his bed at all, but I promise you I don’t mean to enquire where he was, because from anything I have ever heard one should never, if one wishes to retain the least respect for them, enquire what gentlemen do when they have contrived to escape from their female relatives.”

Charmed by this large-mindedness, the Major said, with simple fervour: “I knew you’d make a champion wife, love!”

“On the contrary! My husband will live under the cat’s foot.” “I’m very partial to cats,” offered the Major hopefully.