CHAPTER V--FAMILY AFFAIRS
Daniel Lane left the Residency with curiously mixed feelings; and as hemade his way through the sun-scorched streets, he found some difficultyin bringing his thoughts to bear upon the afternoon's business. He feltthat he had talked too much: it was almost as though he had faithlesslygiven away secrets that were sacred. Lord Blair and young Helsinghamwere hardly possessed of ears in which to repeat the confidences of thedesert; and as for Lady Muriel, he was not in a position to say whethershe had received his words with real understanding or not.
He had enjoyed his luncheon, and he was obliged to confess to himselfthat dainty dishes and a handsome table were by no means to be despised.On the other hand, he had been conscious of an artificiality, a sort ofpose in much that was said or done at the Residency. His long absencesfrom his countrymen had made him rather critical, and seemed now toreveal what might otherwise have passed undetected.
On the previous evening Muriel Blair had appeared to him--in herdiamonds and frills and high-heeled shoes--to constitute as artificial apicture as could well be imagined; and he was disconcerted by the factthat nevertheless she had looked delightful. And today he had overheardfragments of her conversation with Rupert Helsingham, and had beenalternately charmed and distressed by the manner in which they exhibitedto one another their familiarity with all that was thought to representmodern culture and refinement of taste. It had seemed to be such emptywit; and yet the effect was often, as though by accident, quite close tothe truth.
"Epstein is plain-spoken by implication"; ... "dear Augustus John! He'sa striking instance of the power of matter over mind"; ... "I alwaysenjoy the Russian dancers: they are so stupid"; ... "the trouble withEnglish Art is that it is so Scotch"; ... and so forth.
It was the wit of a certain section of London society, and it troubledhim because it was restless and superficial; and he did not want to findan attractive girl, such as Muriel Blair, to be a kind of dragon-fly ofa summer's day. He would like to take her right out of her environment;and yet--oh, he could not be bothered with her!
With an effort he collected his thoughts, and, standing still at thestreet corner, studied his notebook and his watch. The first thing to bedone was to go to find his cousin, to whom he had already sent a notesaying that he would call upon him in the early afternoon, a time of daywhen at this season of the year most reasonable people remained withindoors. He had long dreaded the visit to this unknown relative; and nowafter the tussle of the previous night, he felt keenly the awkwardnessof the situation. However, the painful family duty could not be shirked,and the sooner it was over the better.
He turned off to his left, and walked quickly over to the barracks,which were not far distant; and at the gates he enquired his way to theofficers' quarters.
"Who d'you want to see, mate?" said a young corporal who sat in theshadow of the archway, picking his teeth.
Daniel told him.
"Oh, 'im!" chuckled the soldier. "Are you the man from Kodak's? I 'eardhim a-cursin' and a-swearin' this morning when 'e smashed 'is camera.Just 'ere, it was. 'E'll give you 'Ell!--'e says the strap broke. It'salways somebody else's fault with 'is Lordship."
Daniel smiled. "A bit impatient like, is he?" he asked. He saw no pointin explaining his identity.
"Impatient!" laughed the corporal. "Twice already 'e's sent for thewhole shop. You'll catch it, mate, I warn yer!"
Daniel followed the direction indicated to him, and crossing the flamingcompound, soon reached the entrance of his cousin's rooms. Here asoldier-servant took in his name, and, quickly returning, ushered himthrough the inner doorway.
Lord Barthampton had risen from his chair, and was standing in whatappeared to be interested expectation of the meeting with his unknownrelation. His tunic was unfastened, and his collarless shirt was open atthe neck, revealing a pink, hairy chest. His heavy red face was dampwith perspiration, and it was evident that he was feeling the effects ofa large luncheon. He had a big lighted cigar in his hand, and on a tablebeside him there were glasses, a decanter, and a syphon. The _SportingTimes_ and _Referee_ lay on the floor at his feet.
As Daniel appeared in the doorway his manner suddenly changed, and hisbloodshot blue eyes opened wide under frowning eyebrows. He slowlyreplaced the cigar in his mouth and thrust his hands into his pockets.
"What d'you want?" he muttered.
"Well, Cousin Charles ..." said Daniel. He held out his hand, but LordBarthampton made no responding movement.
"So _you_ are Daniel, are you!" he ejaculated. "I might have guessed it.I'd heard that you were a sort of prize-fighting vagabond. What d'youwant to see me for?"
"First of all," the visitor replied, "to say I'm sorry about last night.I didn't know till afterwards who you were."
His cousin grunted like a pig. "You took an unfair advantage of me," hesaid. "You could see I was a bit tight. In England we don't think it'ssporting to knock a man down when he's full of whiskey; but youAmericans don't seem to know...."
Daniel smiled. "I'm English too, you know."
"Yes, in a way I suppose you are," he grumbled, dropping into anarm-chair. "We're both Lanes; but your mother was a Yankee, and you'vespent half your life over there. You had no right to hit me."
"I didn't hit you," said Daniel, with a broad smile. "I only shook you;and I'll do it again if you don't offer me a chair."
Charles Barthampton stared at him, and, taking the cigar out of hismouth, blew a cloud of smoke from between his lips. "There's a chairbehind you," he replied, rudely. "You can sit in it if it doesn't makeyou stay too long."
Daniel fetched the chair, and, placing it immediately in front of hiscousin, sat himself down. "This is a bad start, cousin," he said. "I'vetold you I'm sorry; but you know quite well it was your own fault."
"I tell you I was tight," he answered petulantly. "And besides, whatright had you to be with Lizette? She belongs to the regiment."
"She was good enough to have supper with me," Daniel answered, and therewas an unmistakable menace in his voice. "Please leave her out of thequestion."
Lord Barthampton laughed. "I suppose you feel a bit struck on her thismorning."
Daniel suddenly rose to his feet; and his cousin, startled by the lookin his face, sprang from his chair, and placed his hand on the bell onthe wall behind him.
"Sit down, _Cousin_ Daniel," he sneered, "or I'll ring the bell and haveyou thrown out by the guard."
Daniel shrugged his shoulders, and resumed his seat. "There's nothing tobe timid about," he replied, "if you're careful what you say. I tell youagain I apologize for my part in last night's affair: I'm always ashamedof myself when I'm rough with anybody. I've come here to talk aboutfamily business, so you'd better sit down too."
He pulled out his pipe, and began to fill it, while Charles Barthampton,with an awkward air of unconcern, sat heavily down once more.
"Family business, is it?" he growled. "I suppose you're going to claimsome money or something. Well, your name was mentioned in my father'swill, if you want to know, but he didn't leave you anything."
"He sent me a copy of the will last year, just before he died," Danielanswered, unmoved.
His cousin glanced quickly at him. "Did he really?" he remarked. "Thatwas odd, as he left you nothing; but he was a bit strange always. Idon't see what it had got to do with you, though. Your father, hisbrother, died years ago, didn't he? And your mother hardly knew him."
Daniel lit his pipe. "You forget," he said, "that your father and I hada couple of months shooting together on the Peace River, three or fouryears ago, while you were in India. We became good friends, and I sawhim in England afterwards."
Lord Barthampton nodded, and was silent. He puffed viciously at hiscigar; then, as though deciding that there might be some call fordiplomacy, he pointed to the table. "Have a drink?" he said.
"No, thanks," his visitor answered.
"Well, what the Hell _do_ you want?" He was becoming exasperated.
Daniel looked gravel
y at him. "I want you to turn over a new leaf," hesaid. "Now that you've inherited the property, and now that you're headof the family, you've got a lot of responsibilities."
"That's my own business, not yours," muttered his cousin, again gruntingloudly.
"No, it's my affair, too," Daniel answered. "You're not married; youhave no son. As things stand at present I'm the next of kin. I'm yourheir."
The other uttered a short laugh. "Oh, I see," he scoffed. "You'rebanking on my drinking myself to death, or something, before I canbecome a proud father, eh? You wanted to have a look at me: and Isuppose you're disappointed to find I'm in the pink. You'd rather fancyyourself as Daniel Lane, Earl of Barthampton." He made a gesture ofcontempt. "A pretty sight you'd make in the House of Lords! I wonderthey even let you into the barracks!"
Daniel laughed with genuine amusement. "They thought I'd come to mendyour camera."
Lord Barthampton suddenly leapt to his feet. "God!" he exclaimed. "Wherethe Hell is that man?" He rang the bell furiously. "Why the blasted Helldon't they come when I send for them?"
"Are you in a hurry to have it mended?" asked Daniel mildly.
"Of course I am!" snapped his cousin.
"Then why didn't you take it round to the shop, yourself, instead ofgoing into tantrums like a baby?"
His Lordship stood stock still, and stared at Daniel, like an infuriatedbull. "I wish to God I knew why you were sitting here in my room!" heroared. "Why don't you go?"
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in!" he snorted.
The knock was repeated.
"Come in, confound you!" he shouted, and thereat a soldier entered. "Areyou deaf? Send somebody over to the camera place at once, and tell themthat if they don't attend to my orders I'll break every damned thing inthe shop. D'you hear?"
"In other words," said Daniel, turning to the soldier, "say LordBarthampton presents his compliments, and would be very grateful if theywould hustle a bit."
His cousin turned on him as the soldier, prompted by natural tact,speedily left the room. "Will you kindly mind your own business!" hesnapped.
"How Lord Barthampton behaves _is_ my business," Daniel answeredsternly. "Now, sit down there," he added peremptorily, "and listen tome."
The infuriated man stood where he was, breathing hard and biting at hiscigar.
"Sit down, I said!" Daniel repeated; and now there was a ring of commandin his voice at which the other started. He evidently had not forgottenlast night.
"Oh, very well," he replied, and flung himself into his chair.
Daniel leant forward and drew a long, type-written letter from hispocket. "This," he said, "is a copy of your father's last letter to me."
"If he promised you any money," the other interjected, "you won't getit."
Daniel took no notice. "I won't trouble you with the first pages of theletter," he remarked. "They just tell an old man's disappointment in hisson, and his fears that you will not only ruin yourself, but also sullythe name and squander the estate. 'Now, Daniel,' he writes, 'I am goingto put the matter entirely into your hands, and to rely on your honourto carry out my wishes. In spite of my son's shortcomings I love him forhis mother's sake, and it is my earnest desire that he should be aworthy representative of our line. If, however, you find that he ishopelessly going to the bad, I herewith place the documentary evidencein your hands by means of which you can turn him out in favour ofyourself.'"
"What's he mean?" exclaimed his cousin, half rising from his chair."It's forgery--it's a trick or something!" His voice was unsteady.
Daniel, pipe in mouth, continued quietly to read: "'I regret to saythat, as these papers will show, my son was born out of wedlock. You areaware, no doubt, that I met my wife in South Africa, when I had a farmthere, some years before I even expected to come into the title; but,except you and I, no living person knows that Charles was born sixmonths before our marriage. I now leave the secret entirely in yourdiscretion, knowing that you will only reveal it if you feel that Ishould wish you to do so.'"
"It's a lie!" shouted Lord Barthampton. "It's blackmail!"
"No," said Daniel. "There's no getting over it. The documents are all inorder. You're only Lord Barthampton on sufferance."
His cousin sank back in his chair. His cigar had gone out, and he flungit on the ground. Then he leant forward and rested his head in hishands, scratching his red ear with one finger. In this attitude heappeared fat, unpleasant, and altogether devoid of dignity.
At length he looked up, sullenly, with a sort of cunning in his face."How much do you want for those papers?" he asked.
Daniel sucked at his pipe for a few moments. "I want rather a stiffprice," he declared at length.
"What?" said his cousin, in a dull voice.
Daniel fixed his eyes upon him. "Your reformation," he said.
"Oh, go to Hell!" was the reply, and Daniel rather liked him for it. Hefelt uncomfortable in a mentorial role.
"Look here," he said, "let's understand what your father meant."
Charles Barthampton got up and mixed himself a whiskey-and-soda. "Ifthat letter's genuine," he muttered, "there's no understanding him."
"Oh, yes, it's simple enough," replied Daniel. "You are his son, whetheryou're legitimate or not; and he didn't want to have your name, or his,or especially your mother's, dragged through the mud by letting out hissecret. So he wished you to inherit. But at the same time, he had a verySpartan sense of duty; and, as he was good enough to trust me, hethought I would act as a bit of a brake on you, if you knew that I couldhave you fired out if you didn't behave yourself."
"A dirty trick!" the other grunted, pacing up and down the room, hisfists clenched, and much of the colour gone from his face. He swunground on his heel, and stared at Daniel with fierce, bloodshot eyes."Oh, it'll be easy enough for you to find a pretext for outing me. I cansee already I'm done for. You've only got to say the word, but, by God!if you do turn me out"--he shook his fist in his cousin's face--"I'llsend a bullet through you."
Daniel put his hand to his hip-pocket, from which the butt of hisrevolver protruded. "I'm not a bad shot myself," he replied.
"Oh, really!" Barthampton ejaculated, with an explosive splutter, and,darting to the table, he pulled open a drawer and dived his hand intoit.
Instantly Daniel whipped out his revolver and covered him. "Stand backfrom that table!" he called out, and there was something very terriblein his voice.
His cousin's hand fell to his side, and he took a pace back. Stillcovering him, and not taking his eyes from him, Daniel leaned over thetable and felt for the revolver which lay there. Having found it, heslipped it into the pocket of his jacket.
"Now don't behave like a damned fool," he said. "Understand me: I am notgoing to turn you out. I haven't the slightest wish to do so. I don'twant the beastly estates, and I much prefer to be plain Daniel Lane. Bylaw I'm Lord Barthampton, not you; but by something that's above law, Imean fair-play, you are your father's son and the heir he wanted. Andnothing short of your utter damn-foolery will ever make me turn you out.D'you understand? But, mind you," and his voice resumed its gravity,"you've got to turn over a new leaf. You've got to give up your drinkand your pig ways, and your gambling, and your tantrums, and your women.You've got to be a considerate landlord to your tenants, and a goodcitizen, and a credit to your country, and your regiment, and yourfamily. And you've got to live within your income, and give generouslyto the poor. D'you hear me?--give generously to the poor. We shan't seemuch of each other, but from time to time I'll look you up, and I shallbe surprised if I don't find a great improvement in you."
Lord Barthampton stood in front of him, staring at him as at a ghost. Hewas visibly trembling, and his face had lost its colour. Very nearly hehad been a murderer. He appeared to be on the verge of collapse.
"D'you mean what you say?" he whispered. "How can I trust you?" Hismouth was so dry that his tongue clicked as he spoke.
"Your father trusted me," Daniel replied, and held
out his hand.
_A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY--BURNING SANDS_]
Very slowly his cousin responded, and a cold, trembling, clammy hand wasplaced in his own.
"Very well, then, good-bye, Cousin Charles. I'm off to the desert now. Idon't know when we'll meet again."
He took his cousin's revolver from his pocket and, putting it back inthe place where he had found it, closed the drawer. "May I take one ofyour cigars?" he asked. His pipe had gone out.
"Y-yes, of course," the wretched man replied, still standing like one ina dream.
Daniel took the cigar, lit it, and, turning round, walked out of theroom.
In the blazing sunlight outside he paused and stared across the dazzlingopen space, which, towards the west, led down to the Nile. A scorchingwind beat in his face, and blew the dust of his footsteps towards thebuilding which he had left. "Phew!" he whispered. "Thus goes tenthousand pounds a year and a peerage!"
He gazed across the river to the shimmering line of the desert whichcould be seen in the distance between the palms, and held out his handstowards it.