Page 32 of The Highwayman


  CHAPTER XXXII

  PERPLEXITIES OF CAPTAIN McBEAN

  Captain McBean and Mr. O'Connor halted steaming horses before the door ofTetherdown. The butler announced that Mr. Waverton had gone out, and thenimpressed by the evidence of haste and the martial elegance of McBean,suggested that my lady might receive the gentleman.

  "How? The animal has a mother?" says McBean in French, and shrugged andbeckoned the butler closer. "Now, my friend, could you make a guess whereI should look for Mr. Waverton?" and money passed.

  "Sir, Mr. Waverton rides over sometimes to the Hall at Highgate. MissLam--Mrs. Boyce's house;" the butler looked knowing.

  "Mrs. Boyce? Eh, is that Colonel Boyce's lady?"

  The butler smiled discreetly. "No, sir, to be sure. Young Boyce--youngMr. Boyce, sir."

  Captain McBean wheeled round in such a hurry that the butler was almostoverthrown. They clattered off.

  It was not till they were riding through the wood that McBean spoke:"Patrick, my man, would you say that Harry Boyce is the man to marrywisely and well?"

  "Faith, I believe he would not be doing anything wisely. That same ishis charm."

  "_Tiens_, it begins now to be ugly. Why must the boy be married at all,_mordieu_?"

  "It will be in his nature," says O'Connor. "And likely to a shrew."

  "If that were all! Ah, bah, they shall have no satisfaction in it. But nomore will I..."

  There were at the Hall two women who had almost become calm by minglingtheir distress and their tears. It's believed that they slept in eachother's arms, and slept well enough. In the morning another messenger wassent off to the Long Acre tavern. If he came back with no news it wasagreed they should move into town. They said no more of their fears. Eachhad some fancy that she was putting on a brave face for the other's sake.There is no doubt that they found the stress easier to bear forconsciousness of each other's endurance.

  So Mr. Hadley and his Susan were received by an atmosphere of gentlepeace. Much to Mr. Hadley's surprise, who would complain that ventureinto Alison's house was much like a post over against the Irish Brigade;for a man never knew how she would break out upon him, but could countupon it that she would be harassing.

  "We are so glad," says Susan.

  "She loves to march her prisoner through the town. It's a simple,brutish taste."

  "Oh. I am so, I believe," says Susan, and contemplated Mr. Hadley withplacid satisfaction.

  "She is too honest for you, Mr. Hadley," Alison said.

  "Oh Lud, yes, ma'am. The mass of her overwhelms me, and it's all plainvirtue--a heavy, solemn thing. Look you, Susan, you embarrass madame withyour revelations."

  "It is curious. He is always ill at ease when I am with him."

  "Because you make me tedious, child."

  "That's your vanity, Mr. Hadley." Alison tried to keep in tune with them.

  "Look you, Susan, I am cashiered by marriage. Once I was Charles. Now Iam without honour."

  "Mr. Geoffrey Waverton," quoth the butler.

  Alison's hand went to her breast and she was white.

  "Dear Geoffrey!" Mr. Hadley murmured. "I do not know when last I saw dearGeoffrey," and he turned a sardonic face to the door.

  Susan leaned forward. "Alison, dear--if you choose--" she began ina whisper.

  "Sit still," Alison muttered. "Stay, stay."

  Mr. Waverton came in with measured pomp, stopped short and surveyed thecompany and at last made his bow. "Madame, your most obedient. I fearthat I come untimely."

  Alison could not find her voice, so it was Mr. Hadley who answered, "Lud,Geoffrey dear, you're never out of season: like mutton."

  "I give Mrs. Hadley joy," says Geoffrey. "Such wit must be rare company."

  Alison was staring at him. "You have something to say to me? You mayspeak out. There are no secrets here."

  "Is it so, faith? Egad, what friendship! But you have always beenfortunate. And in fact I bring you news of more fortune. You are freeof your Mr. Boyce, ma'am. You are done with him. He has been picked updead." He smiled at Alison, Alison white and still and dumb. Mrs.Weston gave a cry and fell back in her chair and her fingers plucked ather dress.

  Mr. Hadley strode across and stood very close to Geoffrey. "Take care,"says he in a low voice.

  "Well. Tell all your story," Alison said.

  "They found him lying in the kennel in Long Acre," Geoffrey smiled. "Oh,there was some brawl, it seems. He was set upon by his tavern cronies ina quarrel about a wench he had. A very proper end."

  "Geoffrey, you are a cur," says Mr. Hadley in his ear.

  "You are lying," Alison cried.

  Mr. Waverton laughed and waved his hand. "Oh, ma'am, you are a chameleon.The other day you desired nothing better than monsieur's demise. Now atthe news of it you grow venomous. I vow I cannot keep pace with yourchanges. I must withdraw from your intimacy. 'Tis too exacting for mypoor vigour. Madame, your most humble."

  "Not yet," Alison cried.

  "Let him go, ma'am," Mr. Hadley broke in sharply. "Go home, sirrah.You'll not wait long before you hear from me."

  "From which hand?" Geoffrey flicked at the empty sleeve. "Nay, faith, itsuits madame well, the left-handed champion."

  Mr. Hadley turned on his heel. "Pray, ma'am, leave us. This is becomemy affair."

  "I have not done with him yet," Alison said.

  But the door was opened for the servant to say: "Captain Hector McBean,Mr. Patrick O'Connor," and with a clank of spurs and something of amilitary swagger the little man and the long man marched in.

  Captain McBean swept a glance round the room.

  "So," says he with satisfaction and made a right guess at Alison. "Mrs.Boyce, I am necessitated to present myself. Captain McBean."

  "What, more champions!" Geoffrey laughed. "Oh, ma'am, you have toogeneral a charity. My sympathy is in your way," and he made his bow andwas going off.

  "_Mordieu_, you relieve me marvellously," says McBean, and O'Connor puthis back against the door.

  Mr. Waverton waved O'Connor aside.

  "You'll be Mr. Waverton?" said O'Connor.

  "Od's life, sir, stand out of my way." But O'Connor laughed and McBeantapped the magnificent shoulder. Mr. Waverton swung round.

  "Hark in your ear," says McBean. "You're a lewd, cowardly scoundrel, Mr.Waverton."

  Mr. Waverton glared at him, stepped back and turned on Alison. "Pray,ma'am, control your bullies. I desire to leave your house!"

  "Let him be, sir," Alison stood up. "Leave us, if you please, I have tospeak with him."

  "You have not," McBean frowned. "The affair is out of your hands. Come,sir, march. There's a pretty piece of turf beyond the gates. Your friendthere may serve you."

  "Not I, sir," Mr. Hadley put in. "I have myself a meeting to require ofMr. Waverton."

  "So? I like the air here better and better, _pardieu_. Well, Mr.Waverton, we'll e'en walk out alone."

  "Your bluster won't serve you, sirrah. If you be a gentleman, which youmake incredible, you may proceed in order and I'll consider if I may doyou the honour to meet you."

  "Gentleman? Bah, I am Hector McBean, Captain in Bouffiers' regiment.Come, sir, now are you warmer?" He struck Mr. Waverton across the eyes.

  Mr. Waverton, drawing back, turned again upon Alison: "My God, did youbring your bullies here to murder me?"

  "I did not bid you here," Alison said.

  "_Lache_," says Mr. O'Connor with a shrug.

  "_En effet_," says McBean and sat down. "Observe, Waverton: I have givenyou the chance to take a clean death. You have not the courage for it._Tant mieux_. You may now hang."

  Mr. Waverton again made a move for the door, but Mr. O'Connor stoodsolidly in the way. "Attention, Waverton. You have bungled your business,as usual. Your fellow Ned Boon hath been taken and lies in Newgate. Hehas confessed that he and his gang were hired for this murder by acertain Geoffrey Waverton."

  "It is a lie!"

  "Waverton--I have a whip as well as a sword."

&nb
sp; "I do not concern myself with you, sir," says Mr. Waverton withdignity. "You are repeating a lesson, I see. But I advise you, I shallnot permit myself to be slandered. This fellow Ned Bone--Boon--what ishis vulgar name? I know nothing of him. If he pretends to any knowledgeof me, he lies."

  "You told me that you had hired men to spy upon Mr. Boyce," Alison said.

  Mr. Waverton laughed. "Oh, ma'am, I thank you for a flash of honesty.Here's the truth then. In madame's interest, I had arranged with her thata party of fellows should watch her scurvy husband. She suspected him ofvarious villainies, infidelity, what you will. And, egad, I dare to sayshe was right. But I have no more concern in it. So you may his back toyour employers, Captain Mac what's your name, and advise them that I amnot to be bullied. I shall know how to defend myself."

  Alison came nearer Captain McBean. "Sir, this is a confection of lies. Itis true the man told me he was planning a watch on Mr. Boyce. But not ofmy will. And when I knew I did instantly give Mr. Boyce warning."

  "I shall deal with you in good time," McBean frowned. "_Dieu de dieu!_ Ido not excuse you. Attention, Waverton! You lie stupidly. Your bullies,_mordieu_, blunder in your own style. It would not content them to murderMr. Boyce. They must have his father too. They could not do theirbusiness quietly nor finish it. The rogue Ben was caught and the Colonelhas only a hole in his shoulder. You may know that he is not the man toforgive you for it. So, Waverton. You have suborned murder and furnishedevidence to hang you for it. You must meddle with Colonel Boyce to makesure that his Whiggish party who hold the government shall not spare you.You set every Jacobite against you when you struck at Harry. Howeverthings go now there'll be those in power urgent to hang you. Go home andwait till the runners take you off to Newgate. March!"

  Mr. O'Connor opened the door with alacrity.

  "I am not afraid of you," Waverton cried. "And you, madame, you, thewidow--be sure if I am attacked, your loose treachery shall not win youoff. What I have done--you know well it was done for you and in commercewith you." Mr. O'Connor took him by the arm. "Don't presume to touch me!"he called out, trembling with rage. Mr. O'Connor propelled him out.

  "I believe Patrick will cut the coat off his back," said McBean pensivelyand then laughed a little. He brushed his hand over his face and stood upand marched on Alison. "Now for you," he said. "I beg leave of thecompany." He made them a bow and waved them out of the room.

  "Sir, Mr. Boyce?" Mrs. Weston said faintly.

  "Madame, Mr. Boyce is not dead. He lies wounded. I make no apology,_pardieu_! It is imperative to frighten the Waverton out of thecountry--since he would not stand up to be killed. You, madame," heturned frowning upon Alison, "you must have him no more in yourneighbourhood."

  Alison bent her head. Mr. Hadley came forward. "Captain McBean, you taketoo much upon yourself."

  "I'll answer for it at my leisure, sir."

  "Pray go, Charles," Alison said gently. So they went out, Mrs.Weston upon Susan's arm, and Captain McBean and Alison were leftalone, the fierce little lean man stretching every inch of himagainst her rich beauty.

  "You do me some wrong, sir," Alison said.

  "Is it possible?" McBean's chest swelled to the sneer.

  "Pray, sir, don't scold. It passes me by. Nay, I cannot answer you. Ihave no defence, I believe. Be sure that you can say nothing to make myhurt worse."

  "How long shall we go on talking about you, madame?"

  Alison flushed dark, and turned away and muttered something.

  "What now?" McBean said. In another moment he saw that she was crying.Some satisfaction perhaps, no pity, softened his stare....

  She turned, making no pretence to hide her tears. "I beg of you--take meto Mr. Boyce."

  "I said, madame, Mr. Boyce is not yet dead." The sharp, precise voicespared her nothing. "I do not know whether he will live." Alison gave achoking cry. "I do not now know whether he would desire to live."

  "What do you mean?" A madness of fear, of love perhaps, distorted herface.

  "You well know. When I rode out this morning, I had it in mind to killthe Waverton and conduct you to Mr. Boyce. But I did not guess thatWaverton would refuse to be killed like a gentleman or that I should findyou engaged in the rogue's infamy."

  "But that is his lie! Ah, you must know that it is a lie. You heard howhe turned on me, and his vileness."

  "_Bien_, you have played fast and loose with him. I allow that. It doesnot commend you to me, madame."

  "I'll not bear it," Alison cried wildly. "Oh, sir, you have no right. Mr.Boyce would never endure you should treat me so."

  "_Dieu de dieu_! Would you trade upon Harry's gentleness now? Aye,madame, he would not treat you so, _mordieu_. He would see nothing, knownothing, believe nothing. And let you make a mock of him again. But ifyou please, I stand between him and you."

  "You have no right," Alison muttered.

  "It is you who have put me there. You, madame, when you played him falsewith this Waverton."

  "That is a lie--a lie," she cried.

  "Oh, content you. You are all chastity. I do not doubt it. But you droveHarry away from you. You admitted your Waverton to intimacy--you let himhope--believe--bah, what does it matter? You were in his secrets. Youknew he put bullies upon Harry. Now he has failed and you are in a frightand want your Harry again. Permit me, madame, not to admire you."

  "What do you want of me?" Alison said miserably.

  "I cannot tell. I want to know what I am to do with Harry. And you--youare another wound."

  Alison shuddered. "For God's sake take me to him. I will content him."

  "Yes. For how long?"

  "Oh, I deserve it all. I cannot answer you. And yet you are wrong. I amnot such as you think me. I have never had anything but contempt for Mr.Waverton. If he were not what he is, he must have known that. He came tome after I left Harry. He told me that he was having Harry spied upon.The moment he was gone I wrote to Harry and gave him warning and beggedhim come back to me. He has never answered me. And I--oh--am I to speakof Harry and me?"

  "If you could I should not much believe you. From the first, madame, Ihave believed you."

  "It was I who drove him away from me. I have been miserable for it eversince. I humbled myself."

  Captain McBean held up his hand. "I still believe you. Pray, orderyour coach."

  "Where is he?"

  "He lies at his father's lodging. Observe, madame: I have said--he isnot yet dead. Whether he lives rests, I believe to God, upon what youmay be to him."

  "Then he will be well enough," she sobbed as she laughed.

  "Oh! I believe in your power," says McBean with a twist of a smile.

  She stayed a moment by the door and flung her arms wide. "What I am--itis all for him."

  Captain McBean left alone, took snuff. "A splendid wild cat--and thatmouse of a Harry," says he.

 
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