CHAPTER TEN
ANOTHER STRAND IN THE WEB
The arrival of Mrs. Raynor and the General upon the scene, with HarryRaynor in their wake, gave a different atmosphere, so to speak, toCleek's thoughts, and he threw himself, heart and soul, into gettinginto the good graces of the family. He did not much fancy Mr. HarryRaynor, who was too self-assertive to be pleasant company to a maturedman of the world, and just at the age which may be best described in thequotation, "young enough to know everything."
Nevertheless, he had made up his mind to secure an invitation to stayovernight at Wuthering Grange, in order that he might have a peep atLord St. Ulmer, and he knew that it was only by making himself a booncompanion of the young man that he could hope to secure it. About threeand twenty, the idol of an adoring mother, if not of his father, thatgentleman was of the type that favour the ladies of the ballet withtheir attentions, and prefer chorus girls, stage doors, and late suppersto home amusements and the like; and it was not long before Cleek hadhim nicely "managed" and in the desired frame of mind.
A casual remark about a certain dashing musical-comedy actress who hadsprung into sudden prominence set the ball rolling; then Cleek expressedin confidence a burning desire to know the lady and deep disappointmentover the fact that he knew no one who was in a position to introducehim; and in ten minutes' time he had his fish hooked.
"I say, you know, I'll give you an introduction to her like a shot, oldchap, if you really do want to know her," young Raynor imparted to himin deep confidence as he led him outside and got him away from theladies. "Know her like a book! Rippin' sort! Introduce you any time youlike. My hat! yes!"
"Really?" said Cleek with every appearance of boundless delight. "Youknow her--you actually know her?"
"Yes, rather! Know the whole blessed shoot of 'em from FlossieTwinkletoes down. Get reams of letters from 'em and bushels ofphotos--all autographed. I say, come up to my den and have a peep. Younever saw such a gallery!"
Cleek admitted to himself when he saw them that he never had, for theroom was literally smothered under photographs of actresses, gymnasts,ladies of the music-hall persuasion, and public characters in general.
"Always sport my oak, you know," said the young man with a laugh and awink, as he locked the door behind him. "Pater might see 'em, and thenthere would be a time of it. Awful old muff, the pater; good sort, youknow, but he'd have this lot in the fire in less than no time if heknew. Fearful old fossil. Flowers, fruits, rubber at whist, pipe, and anold army friend--that's his idea of life."
Cleek felt like taking him by the back of the neck and kicking him. Hedidn't, however. He had other fish to fry; and he succeeded so well thatbefore he left that room he had an invitation to stop the night, and ashe had brought no evening clothes with him, the offer of a suit to meetthe emergency.
"Look here, I'll tell you what, Barch," said Raynor when this invitationand this offer were accepted, turning round as he spoke--he was at awindow which overlooked the drive up from the gates of the Grange "chapslike us don't want to sit in a drawing-room and waste time with a pairof prunes and prisms like Lady Katharine Fordham and that prig of aLorne girl. If you're in for a lark, we'll slip out and I'll show you abit of life on the sly. I like you-- I'm blest if I don't; so if you'regame for a kick up, I'll let you into a secret and give you the time ofyour life. Now, then, listen here, old chap."
He stopped abruptly as a sudden grating sound of wheels rose from thedrive, and looking down, he saw that a vehicle had swung in through thegates and was advancing toward the house.
"Oh Lord! that settles it; now we're in for a visitation!" he said withan expression of deep disgust. "There's that prig of a chap, GeoffClavering, driving in. Can't stick that fellow at any price!"
Geoff Clavering! Cleek rose as he heard the name, walked to the window,and looked out. So, then, he had not been so far out in his reckoningafter all. Geoff Clavering had come at last to seek an interview withthe girl of his heart.
Why the boy had delayed until now Cleek could not guess, unless it wasbecause of a shrinking dread of going abroad anywhere at such a time;but that he had nerved himself to come at last for something more than amere call was apparent at first glance; for his face was white andstrained, and it was evident, even from this distance, that he waslabouring under strong excitement.
Undoubtedly there would be, as he had surmised, a private interviewarranged between those two people, and undoubtedly he must manage tooverhear it. What a pity that this should have happened at thisparticular time, that young Clavering should have arrived while he wasup here, out of the way of seeing what happened when Geoff and LadyKatharine first met!
A glance, a movement, a hundred different things, might tell him what hewanted to know if he were there at that moment of first meeting. Butperhaps it was not yet too late. The carriage hadn't reached theentrance of the house as yet; perhaps, if he hurried, if he went atonce----
"I say, let's go down, Raynor," he said desperately. "I don't knowwhat's come over me, but my head's suddenly begun to swim, and I'mafraid I shall keel over if I don't get out in the air. We can let thelark you were speaking of rest until afterward. Come on, will you? ByJove! you know, I'm in a fearful way."
And from the effort to carry out the impression of extreme giddiness acurious thing came:
Clapping his hand to his head, and wheeling staggeringly round to makehis way to the door, he had the good or ill fortune to blunder against alittle table, upon which stood what was undoubtedly an earthenwaretobacco jar, and to send it crashing to the ground. Instantly and out ofit there rolled, on top of the quantity of spilled tobacco which hadoriginally been used to cover it, a little silver box, which flew openas it fell and disgorged a photograph, a couple of letters in a woman'shand, and a fragment of pink gauze.
Cleek had just stooped to pick these things up and to lay them back uponthe table, when a yet more curious thing happened.
"I say! You let those things alone!" snapped young Raynor excitedly; andspringing forward, whisked them out of his hand. But not before Cleekhad made a rather startling discovery: the letters were written in awoman's hand--a hand he recognized the instant he saw it--and thepicture which accompanied them was a photograph of Margot. He had nolonger a desire to hurry downstairs.
The rudeness of his act and of his manner of speaking seemed to dawnupon young Raynor almost as he snatched the photograph and letters, andhe hastened to apologize.
"I say, don't think me stable-bred, Barch," he said, a flush ofmortification reddening his face. "Didn't mean to rip out at you likethat, b'gad! Fact is, I was a bit excited; forgot for a moment thatyou're a pal. So don't get your back up, please."
"I haven't the slightest intention of doing so, dear chap," repliedCleek, who, it must be confessed, was a little shaken by the discovery."Every man has a right to cut up a bit rough when he thinks some otherfellow is going to pry into his secrets. And I reckon this is one ofyour pet mashes--eh, what?"
"Yes, something like that. The latest--and a ripper. French, you know.That's what rattled me for the moment. The dad loathes French women. I'mextra careful to keep this one's picture out of sight. I say! Don't knowwhat you'll think about my manners, but I forgot all about your askingto go down and get out into the air. Sorry, old chap! Come along! Takemy arm, and I'll help you."
As the breaking of the tobacco jar had deprived Raynor of again makinguse of that as a means of hiding the little silver box and its contents,he had, while speaking, crammed the letters, the photograph, and thescrap of pink gauze into an inside pocket of his coat, and now cameforward and took Cleek's arm with the amiable intention of leading himfrom the room.
There was, of course, in the circumstances nothing for it but to go,much as Cleek would have preferred to stop and trace the connectionbetween young Raynor and Margot; but he was far too careful in hismethods to cast any doubt regarding the genuineness of that suddenattack of a moment before by pretending that it had begun to abate, andtherefore yielded himse
lf to the inevitable.
But he had this consolation in doing it: not only would he now beenabled to witness the meeting between Geoff Clavering and LadyKatharine Fordham after all, but as a man who is ill is always more orless an object of sympathy and attention upon the part of women, heforesaw that he might induce Lady Katharine to hover round him, and thusbring Geoff Clavering within close range for easy and careful studying.Nor did he fear that he had lost all opportunity for pursuing thesubject of Harry Raynor's acquaintance with Margot. The mere fact thatthat young man had the contents of the little silver box upon his personmight easily cause an apprehensive inquiry regarding the risk ofcarrying them about where they might be dropped, and so brought to hisfather's attention; and from that inquiry it would be simple workgetting back to the subject itself without exciting any suspicionregarding his keen interest in it. He therefore allowed young Raynor tolead him from the room.
"Fearfully groggy, old chap, fearfully," he said in answer to youngRaynor's inquiry regarding how he felt as they went down the dim passagetoward the staircase; "head going round like a teetotum; hope I don'tkeel over and spoil the evening's sport by having to be put to bed likea kid. Don't want two sick men on one floor, do you, eh? Or is it onthis floor that Lord St. Ulmer's room is situated?"
"Yes, that one over there--second door from the wing staircase. Speaklow, old chap, or you may disturb him. Sleeps like a cat, they say--oneeye and both ears always open. Doesn't do anything but sleep, I imagine,day and night, from the way he keeps to his room. Hullo! I say! What'sit? Aren't going to crumple up, Barch, are you?"
This, because Cleek had suddenly lurched against the bannister at thehead of the stairs, and swung clean round until his back was restingagainst it.
"No--that is, I hope not; but I do feel rotten, old chap," replied he."Just half a second, will you?"
He lolled back his head, gave a sort of groan, and rapidly and silentlybegan to count the doors and to make sure of the location of Lord St.Ulmer's room. "All right; only a passing spasm, I reckon, old chap," hewent on as soon as he had discovered that his lordship's door was thethird from the end of the passage, and that his window would, therefore,be the second from the angle of the wing in the outer wall of the house."Come on--let's go down." And leaning heavily upon young Raynor, hedescended to the dining-room.