CHAPTER TWO.
THE DAY AFTER.
Raynier awoke in his club chambers the next morning, feeling, as he putit to himself, exceedingly cheap.
When we say awoke, rather are we expressing a recurring process whichhad continued throughout the few remaining night hours since, by forceof circumstances and the swaying of the crowd, he had become separatedfrom his companions, and had wisely found his way straight to bedinstead of to the Peculiar Club. On this at any rate he congratulatedhimself; and yet hardly any sleep had come his way. The howling ofpatriotic roysterers had continued until morning light, and, moreover,his head was buzzing--not by reason of last night's revelry, for in suchhe never got out of hand, but an ugly lump on one side of his forehead,and a swelled eye, reminded him that it is hard to rescue a maltreatedstranger from the brutality of a London mob, and emerge unscathedoneself.
"Well, I do look a beauty," he soliloquised as he stood before hisglass, surveying the damage. "I shall have a bump the size and colourof a croquet ball for the next fortnight, and an eye to match. How aman of my age and temperament could have cut in with those young asseslast night, I can't think. Might have known what the upshot would be.And now I've got to go down to Worthingham to-day. Wonder what niceremark Cynthia will have to make. Perhaps she'll give me the chuck.The fact of my being mixed up in a street row may prove too much for herexceeding sense of propriety." And a faintly satirical droop curleddown the corners of the thinker's mouth.
Having fomented his bruises, and tubbed, and otherwise completed histoilet Raynier went down to breakfast, soon feeling immeasurably thebetter for the process. But in the middle a thought struck him; struckhim indeed with some consternation. The malacca cane--the instrumentwith which he had almost certainly saved the life of the assailedOriental, and which he had put into the hands of the latter as a weapon.It was gone, and--it was a gift from his _fiancee_.
Apart from such association he was fond of the stick, which was ahandsome one and beautifully mounted. How on earth was he to recoverit? His initials were engraved on the head; that, however, wouldfurnish but faint clue. How should he find the man whom he hadbefriended--and even if he did, it was quite possible that the other hadlost possession of the stick during the scrimmage. It might or mightnot find its way to Scotland Yard, but to ascertain this would taketime. He could make inquiries at the police stations adjacent to thescene of last night's _emeute_, or advertise, but that too would taketime and he was urgently due at the abode of his _fiancee_ that veryday, for his furlough was rapidly drawing to a close, and his return toIndia a matter of days rather than of weeks.
Herbert Raynier served his country in the capacity of an Indiancivilian, but most of his time of service had been passed in hot Plainsstations, engendering an amount of constitutional wear and tear whichcaused him to look rather more than his actual age, such being in factnearly through the thirties, but the sallowness of his naturally darkcomplexion had given way to a healthier bronze since he had come home onfurlough five months back. By temperament he was a quiet man, andsomewhat reserved, and this together with the fact that his countenancewas not characterised by that square-jawed aggressiveness which is oftenassociated in the popular estimation with parts, led people to suppose,on first acquaintance, that there was not much in him. Wherein theywere wrong, although at the present moment there were chances of suchlatent abilities as he possessed being allowed to stagnate under sheer,easy-going routine: a potentiality which he himself recognised, and thatwith some concern. Physically he stood about five foot ten in hisboots, and was well set up in proportion. He was fond of sport, thoughnot aspiring to anything beyond the average in its achievement, and wasnot lacking in ideas nor in some originality in the expression of thesame.
As he sat finishing his after-breakfast cheroot in the club smoking-roomthere entered two of his brethren-in-arms of the night before.
"There you are, Raynier, old chap. That's all right. Why didn't youroll up at the Peculiar after the fun? We were all there--Steele andWaring were doosid uneasy about you--thought you'd come to grief, that'swhy we thought we'd look in early and make sure you hadn't."
"Early?"
"Why, yes. It's only eleven. But I say, you jolly old cuckoo. You_have_ got a damaged figurehead."
"Yes, it's a bore," pronounced Raynier, pushing the bell, to order"pegs." "And the worst of it is I've got to go down to the country thisafternoon--to an eminently respectable vicarage, too."
"Remedy's easy. Don't go."
"That's no remedy at all. I must."
"Stick a patch over the eye, then."
"But he can't stick a patch over his head as well," said the other.
"You two chaps have come off with hardly a scratch," said Raynier--"andyet you were just as much in the thick of it as I was."
"So we were. But I say, Raynier, I believe it's a judgment on a staidold buffer like you for `mafeking' around with a lot of lively sparkslike us. Ha--ha--that wasn't bad, I say, don't-cher-know. `Mafeking!'See it? Ah--ha--ha!"
"Oh, go away. It's an outrage. At how many people's hands have youcourted destruction by firing that on them this morning?"
"Not many. But it's awfully good, eh, old sportsman? Why I inventedit."
"Then you deserve death," returned Raynier. "Oh, Grice, take him away,and drown him, will you; but stay--let him have his `peg' first--sincehere it comes."
"Anyone know what became of that interesting stranger?" went on Raynier,after the necessary pause.
"The Indian Johnny? Not much. We all got mixed up in the mob, and whatwith all the `bokos' that were hit, and the claret flying, and then thebobbies rushing the lot, none of us knew what had happened to anyoneelse until we all found ourselves snug and jolly at the Peculiar." Andthen followed an animated account of wounds and casualties received anddoughty deeds effected.
"We thought you were taking care of the Indian Johnny, Raynier,"concluded Grice, "and that was why you didn't turn up."
"I wish I knew where to lay finger on the said Indian Johnny," was therejoinder.
"Why? Was he some big bug?"
"I don't know. But he's got my stick--or had it."
"Rather. And didn't he just lay about with it too. Looked as if he wasquite accustomed to that sort of thing."
"The worst of it is I rather value it," went on Raynier. "In fact I'dgive a trifle to recover it. Given me, you understand."
"Oh--ah--yes, I understand," said the other, with a would-be knowingwink.
"Why not try the police stations?" suggested the self-styled creator ofthe above vile pun. "The darkey may have been run in with a lot morefor creating a disturbance."
"Or the pawnbrokers," said Grice--"for if it was captured by the enemy,why that honest fellow-countryman would lose no time in taking abee-line for the nearest pawnshop with it. All that yelling must havebeen dry work."
"But, I say, old chappie. What a juggins you were to give it him,"supplemented the other, sapiently.
"Oh, he didn't know how to use his fists, and the poor devil wasabsolutely defenceless. And a good `Penang lawyer' in a row of thatkind is a precious deal better than nothing at all."
"The darkey seemed to find it so," said he named Grice. "Why it mighthave been a sword the way he laid about with it. I bet that chap's goodat single-stick. Wonder who he is. Some big Rajah perhaps. I sayRaynier, old chap. You'll have some of his following finding you outdirectly, with no end of lakhs of rupees, as a slight mark of gratitude,and all that sort of thing. Eh?"
"If so the plunder ought to be divided," cut in the other gilded youth."We all helped to pull him through, you know."
"All right, so it shall," said Raynier, "when it comes. As to whichdoesn't it occur to you fellows that `some big Rajah' is hardly likelyto be found frisking around in the thick of an especially tough Londoncrowd all by his little alones? But if he'd find me out only to returnmy stick it would be a `mark of gratitude' quite sufficient for presentpurpos
es."
"Why don't you buy another exactly like it, old chap?" said Grice, whoknew enough about his friend to guess at the real reason of the latter'ssolicitude on account of the lost article. "Nobody would know thedifference."
Here was something of an idea, thought Raynier. But then the mountingand the engraving--that would take time, even if he could get it doneexactly like the other, which he doubted. It was not alone on the scoreof an unpleasant moment with the donor that his mind misgave him. Shewould be excusably hurt, he reflected, remembering that the thing musthave been somewhat costly, and under the circumstances represented acertain amount of self-denial. Decidedly he was in a quandary.
"Well, ta-ta, old chap," said Grice, as the two got up to go. "We'lltry and find out something about the Rajah--in fact it's our interest todo so, having an eye to those lakhs of rupees."
"Yes--and let me know when you've made an end of Barker, here, as you'rebound to do if he fires off that `Mafeking' outrage much more."
"Raynier's jealous," said that wag. "I say, don't go firing it off asyour own down in the country, Raynier."
"No show for me, because about one hundred thousand people scatteredover the British Isles have awoke this morning to invent the sameinsanity."
Speeding along in the afternoon sunshine, looking out upon the countrywhirling by, pleasant and green in its rich dress of early summer,Raynier was conscious of a feeling of relief in that he was leavingbehind him the heat and dust of London, likewise the racket and uproarof a city gone temporarily mad; albeit a more or less profuse display ofbunting in every station the express slid through, notified that thedelirium was already spreading throughout the length and breadth of theland. He had the compartment to himself, which was more favourable tothe vein of thought upon which he had embarked. When he had arrivedhome five months previously he had no more notion of returning anengaged man than he had of building a balloon and starting upon a voyageof discovery to Saturn. Yet here he was, and how had it come about? Hesupposed he ought to feel enraptured--most men of his acquaintancewere--or pretended to be--under the circumstances. Yet he was not. Howon earth had he and Cynthia Daintree ever imagined that they were suitedto go through life together, the fact being that there was no one pointupon which they agreed? But now they were under such compact, hard andfast; yet--how had it come about? Her father, the Vicar of Worthingham,had been a sort of trustee of his, long ago, and on his arrival inEngland had invited him to spend as much of his furlough at thatexceedingly pretty country village as he felt inclined. And he had feltinclined, for he knew but few people in England, and the quiet beauty ofEnglish rural scenery appealed to his temperament, wherefore,Worthingham Vicarage knew how to account for a good deal of his time,and so did the Vicar's eldest daughter. Here, then, was the answer tohis own retrospective question--not put for the first time by any means.Propinquity, opportunity, circumstances and surroundings favourable tothe growth and development of such--idiocy--he was nearly saying. Allof which points to a fairly inauspicious frame of mind on the part of aman who in half an hour or so more would meet his _fiancee_.