CHAPTER 14.

  George's idea was to get home. Quick. There was no possible chanceof a second meeting with Maud that night. They had met and hadbeen whirled asunder. No use to struggle with Fate. Best to give inand hope that another time Fate would be kinder. What George wantednow was to be away from all the gay glitter and the fairylike toutensemble and the galaxy of fair women and brave men, safe in hisown easy-chair, where nothing could happen to him. A nice sense ofduty would no doubt have taken him back to his post in order fullyto earn the sovereign which had been paid to him for his servicesas temporary waiter; but the voice of Duty called to him in vain.If the British aristocracy desired refreshments let them get themfor themselves--and like it! He was through.

  But if George had for the time being done with the Britisharistocracy, the British aristocracy had not done with him. Hardlyhad he reached the hall when he encountered the one member of theorder whom he would most gladly have avoided.

  Lord Belpher was not in genial mood. Late hours always made hishead ache, and he was not a dancing man; so that he was by nowfully as weary of the fairylike tout ensemble as was George. But,being the centre and cause of the night's proceedings, he wascompelled to be present to the finish. He was in the position ofcaptains who must be last to leave their ships, and of boys whostand on burning decks whence all but they had fled. He had spentseveral hours shaking hands with total strangers and receiving witha frozen smile their felicitations on the attainment of hismajority, and he could not have been called upon to meet a largerhorde of relations than had surged round him that night if he hadbeen a rabbit. The Belpher connection was wide, straggling overmost of England; and first cousins, second cousins and even thirdand fourth cousins had debouched from practically every county onthe map and marched upon the home of their ancestors. The effort ofhaving to be civil to all of these had told upon Percy. Like theheroine of his sister Maud's favourite poem he was "aweary,aweary," and he wanted a drink. He regarded George's appearance asexceedingly opportune.

  "Get me a small bottle of champagne, and bring it to the library."

  "Yes, sir."

  The two words sound innocent enough, but, wishing as he did toefface himself and avoid publicity, they were the most unfortunatewhich George could have chosen. If he had merely bowed acquiescenceand departed, it is probable that Lord Belpher would not have takena second look at him. Percy was in no condition to subject everyonehe met to a minute scrutiny. But, when you have been addressed foran entire lifetime as "your lordship", it startles you when awaiter calls you "Sir". Lord Belpher gave George a glance in whichreproof and pain were nicely mingled emotions quickly supplanted byamazement. A gurgle escaped him.

  "Stop!" he cried as George turned away.

  Percy was rattled. The crisis found him in two minds. On the onehand, he would have been prepared to take oath that this man beforehim was the man who had knocked off his hat in Piccadilly. Thelikeness had struck him like a blow the moment he had taken a goodlook at the fellow. On the other hand, there is nothing which ismore likely to lead one astray than a resemblance. He had neverforgotten the horror and humiliation of the occasion, which hadhappened in his fourteenth year, when a motherly woman atPaddington Station had called him "dearie" and publicly embracedhim, on the erroneous supposition that he was her nephew, Philip.He must proceed cautiously. A brawl with an innocent waiter, comingon the heels of that infernal episode with the policeman, wouldgive people the impression that assailing the lower orders hadbecome a hobby of his.

  "Sir?" said George politely.

  His brazen front shook Lord Belpher's confidence.

  "I haven't seen you before here, have I?" was all he could findto say.

  "No, sir," replied George smoothly. "I am only temporarily attachedto the castle staff."

  "Where do you come from?"

  "America, sir."

  Lord Belpher started. "America!"

  "Yes, sir. I am in England on a vacation. My cousin, Albert, ispage boy at the castle, and he told me there were a few vacanciesfor extra help tonight, so I applied and was given the job."

  Lord Belpher frowned perplexedly. It all sounded entirelyplausible. And, what was satisfactory, the statement could bechecked by application to Keggs, the butler. And yet there was alingering doubt. However, there seemed nothing to be gained bycontinuing the conversation.

  "I see," he said at last. "Well, bring that champagne to thelibrary as quick as you can."

  "Very good, sir."

  Lord Belpher remained where he stood, brooding. Reason told him heought to be satisfied, but he was not satisfied. It would have beendifferent had he not known that this fellow with whom Maud hadbecome entangled was in the neighbourhood. And if that scoundrelhad had the audacity to come and take a cottage at the castlegates, why not the audacity to invade the castle itself?

  The appearance of one of the footmen, on his way through the hallwith a tray, gave him the opportunity for further investigation.

  "Send Keggs to me!"

  "Very good, your lordship."

  An interval and the butler arrived. Unlike Lord Belpher late hourswere no hardship to Keggs. He was essentially a night-bloomingflower. His brow was as free from wrinkles as his shirt-front. Hebore himself with the conscious dignity of one who, while he wouldhave freely admitted he did not actually own the castle, wasnevertheless aware that he was one of its most conspicuousornaments.

  "You wished to see me, your lordship?"

  "Yes. Keggs, there are a number of outside men helping heretonight, aren't there?"

  "Indubitably, your lordship. The unprecedented scale of theentertainment necessitated the engagement of a certain number ofsupernumeraries," replied Keggs with an easy fluency which ReggieByng, now cooling his head on the lower terrace, would havebitterly envied. "In the circumstances, such an arrangement wasinevitable."

  "You engaged all these men yourself?"

  "In a manner of speaking, your lordship, and for all practicalpurposes, yes. Mrs. Digby, the 'ouse-keeper conducted the actualnegotiations in many cases, but the arrangement was in no instanceconsidered complete until I had passed each applicant."

  "Do you know anything of an American who says he is the cousin ofthe page-boy?"

  "The boy Albert did introduce a nominee whom he stated to be 'iscousin 'ome from New York on a visit and anxious to oblige. I trusthe 'as given no dissatisfaction, your lordship? He seemed arespectable young man."

  "No, no, not at all. I merely wished to know if you knew him. Onecan't be too careful."

  "No, indeed, your lordship."

  "That's all, then."

  "Thank you, your lordship."

  Lord Belpher was satisfied. He was also relieved. He felt thatprudence and a steady head had kept him from making himselfridiculous. When George presently returned with the life-savingfluid, he thanked him and turned his thoughts to other things.

  But, if the young master was satisfied, Keggs was not. Upon Keggs abright light had shone. There were few men, he flattered himself,who could more readily put two and two together and bring the sumto a correct answer. Keggs knew of the strange American gentlemanwho had taken up his abode at the cottage down by Platt's farm. Hislooks, his habits, and his motives for coming there had formed foodfor discussion throughout one meal in the servant's hall; astranger whose abstention from brush and palette showed him to beno artist being an object of interest. And while the solution putforward by a romantic lady's-maid, a great reader of novelettes,that the young man had come there to cure himself of some unhappypassion by communing with nature, had been scoffed at by thecompany, Keggs had not been so sure that there might not besomething in it. Later events had deepened his suspicion, whichnow, after this interview with Lord Belpher, had become certainty.

  The extreme fishiness of Albert's sudden production of a cousinfrom America was so manifest that only his preoccupation at themoment when he met the young man could have prevented him seeing itbefore. His knowledge of Albert told him that, if one so versed
asthat youth in the art of Swank had really possessed a cousin inAmerica, he would long ago have been boring the servants' hall withfictions about the man's wealth and importance. For Albert not tolie about a thing, practically proved that thing non-existent. Suchwas the simple creed of Keggs.

  He accosted a passing fellow-servitor.

  "Seen young blighted Albert anywhere, Freddy?"

  It was in this shameful manner that that mastermind was habituallyreferred to below stairs.

  "Seen 'im going into the scullery not 'arf a minute ago," repliedFreddy.

  "Thanks."

  "So long," said Freddy.

  "Be good!" returned Keggs, whose mode of speech among those of hisown world differed substantially from that which he considered itbecame him to employ when conversing with the titled.

  The fall of great men is but too often due to the failure of theirmiserable bodies to give the necessary support to their greatbrains. There are some, for example, who say that Napoleon wouldhave won the battle of Waterloo if he had not had dyspepsia. Nototherwise was it with Albert on that present occasion. The arrivalof Keggs found him at a disadvantage. He had been imprudent enough,on leaving George, to endeavour to smoke a cigar, purloined fromthe box which stood hospitably open on a table in the hall. But forthis, who knows with what cunning counter-attacks he might havefoiled the butler's onslaught? As it was, the battle was awalk-over for the enemy.

  "I've been looking for you, young blighted Albert!" said Keggscoldly.

  Albert turned a green but defiant face to the foe.

  "Go and boil yer 'ead!" he advised.

  "Never mind about my 'ead. If I was to do my duty to you, I'd giveyou a clip side of your 'ead, that's what I'd do."

  "And then bury it in the woods," added Albert, wincing as theconsequences of his rash act swept through his small form like somenauseous tidal wave. He shut his eyes. It upset him to see Keggsshimmering like that. A shimmering butler is an awful sight.

  Keggs laughed a hard laugh. "You and your cousins from America!"

  "What about my cousins from America?"

  "Yes, what about them? That's just what Lord Belpher and me havebeen asking ourselves."

  "I don't know wot you're talking about."

  "You soon will, young blighted Albert! Who sneaked that Americanfellow into the 'ouse to meet Lady Maud?"

  "I never!"

  "Think I didn't see through your little game? Why, I knew from thefirst."

  "Yes, you did! Then why did you let him into the place?"

  Keggs snorted triumphantly. "There! You admit it! It was thatfeller!"

  Too late Albert saw his false move--a move which in a normal stateof health, he would have scorned to make. Just as Napoleon, minus astomach-ache, would have scorned the blunder that sent hisCuirassiers plunging to destruction in the sunken road.

  "I don't know what you're torkin' about," he said weakly.

  "Well," said Keggs, "I haven't time to stand 'ere chatting withyou. I must be going back to 'is lordship, to tell 'im of the'orrid trick you played on him."

  A second spasm shook Albert to the core of his being. The doubleassault was too much for him. Betrayed by the body, the spirityielded.

  "You wouldn't do that, Mr. Keggs!"

  There was a white flag in every syllable.

  "I would if I did my duty."

  "But you don't care about that," urged Albert ingratiatingly.

  "I'll have to think it over," mused Keggs. "I don't want to be 'ardon a young boy." He struggled silently with himself. "Ruinin' 'isprospecks!"

  An inspiration seemed to come to him.

  "All right, young blighted Albert," he said briskly. "I'll goagainst my better nature this once and chance it. And now,young feller me lad, you just 'and over that ticket of yours! Youknow what I'm alloodin' to! That ticket you 'ad at the sweep,the one with 'Mr. X' on it."

  Albert's indomitable spirit triumphed for a moment over hisstricken body.

  "That's likely, ain't it!"

  Keggs sighed--the sigh of a good man who has done his best to helpa fellow-being and has been baffled by the other's perversity.

  "Just as you please," he said sorrowfully. "But I did 'ope Ishouldn't 'ave to go to 'is lordship and tell 'im 'ow you'vedeceived him."

  Albert capitulated. "'Ere yer are!" A piece of paper changed hands."It's men like you wot lead to 'arf the crime in the country!"

  "Much obliged, me lad."

  "You'd walk a mile in the snow, you would," continued Albertpursuing his train of thought, "to rob a starving beggar of aha'penny."

  "Who's robbing anyone? Don't you talk so quick, young man. I'mdoing the right thing by you. You can 'ave my ticket, marked'Reggie Byng'. It's a fair exchange, and no one the worse!"

  "Fat lot of good that is!"

  "That's as it may be. Anyhow, there it is." Keggs prepared towithdraw. "You're too young to 'ave all that money, Albert. Youwouldn't know what to do with it. It wouldn't make you 'appy.There's other things in the world besides winning sweepstakes. And,properly speaking, you ought never to have been allowed to draw atall, being so young."

  Albert groaned hollowly. "When you've finished torkin', I wishyou'd kindly have the goodness to leave me alone. I'm not meself."

  "That," said Keggs cordially, "is a bit of luck for you, my boy.Accept my 'eartiest felicitations!"

  Defeat is the test of the great man. Your true general is not hewho rides to triumph on the tide of an easy victory, but the onewho, when crushed to earth, can bend himself to the task ofplanning methods of rising again. Such a one was Albert, thepage-boy. Observe Albert in his attic bedroom scarcely more than anhour later. His body has practically ceased to trouble him, and hissoaring spirit has come into its own again. With the exception ofa now very occasional spasm, his physical anguish has passed, andhe is thinking, thinking hard. On the chest of drawers is a grubbyenvelope, addressed in an ill-formed hand to:

  R. Byng, Esq.

  On a sheet of paper, soon to be placed in the envelope, are writtenin the same hand these words:

  "Do not dispare! Remember! Fante hart never won fair lady. I shall watch your futur progres with considurable interest. Your Well-Wisher."

  The last sentence is not original. Albert's Sunday-school teachersaid it to Albert on the occasion of his taking up his duties atthe castle, and it stuck in his memory. Fortunately, for itexpressed exactly what Albert wished to say. From now on ReggieByng's progress with Lady Maud Marsh was to be the thing nearest toAlbert's heart.

  And George meanwhile? Little knowing how Fate has changed in aflash an ally into an opponent he is standing at the edge of theshrubbery near the castle gate. The night is very beautiful; thebarked spots on his hands and knees are hurting much less now; andhe is full of long, sweet thoughts. He has just discovered theextraordinary resemblance, which had not struck him as he wasclimbing up the knotted sheet, between his own position and that ofthe hero of Tennyson's Maud, a poem to which he has always beenparticularly addicted--and never more so than during the days sincehe learned the name of the only possible girl. When he has not beenplaying golf, Tennyson's Maud has been his constant companion.

  "Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls Come hither, the dances are done, In glass of satin and glimmer of pearls. Queen lily and rose in one; Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls To the flowers, and be their sun."

  The music from the ballroom flows out to him through the motionlessair. The smell of sweet earth and growing things is everywhere.

  "Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, hath flown, Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone; And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown."

  He draws a deep breath, misled young man. The night is verybeautiful. It is near to the dawn now and in the bushes live thingsare beginning to stir and whisper.

  "Maud!"

  Surely she can
hear him?

  "Maud!"

  The silver stars looked down dispassionately. This sort of thinghad no novelty for them.