II.--THE CAPTAIN FROM BATH.
Extract from the Memoirs of GABRIEL FOOT, Highwayman.
Our plan of attack upon Nanscarne House was a simple one.
The old baronet, Sir Harry Dinnis, took a just pride in his silver-ware. Some of it dated from Elizabeth: for Sir Harry"s great-great-grandfather, as the unhappy alternative of melting it down for King Charles, had taken arms against his Majesty and come out of the troubles of those times with wealth and credit.
The house, too, was Elizabethan, shaped like the letter L, and, like that letter, facing eastward. The longer arm, which looked down the steep slope of the park, contained the entrance-hall, chapel, dining-hall, princ.i.p.al living-rooms, and kitchens.
The ground-floor of the other (and to us more important) arm was taken up by the housekeeper"s rooms, audit-room and various offices, the butler"s bedroom, and the strong-room, where the plate lay.
On the upper floor a long gallery full of pictures ran from end to end, with a line of doors on the southern side, all opening into bedrooms, except one which led to the back-stairs.
Now, properly speaking, the strong-room was no strong-room at all.
It had an ordinary deal door and an ordinary country-made lock.
But in some ways it was very strong indeed. The only approach to it on the ground-floor lay through the butler"s bedroom, of which you might call it but a cupboard. It had no window, and could not therefore be attacked from outside. The very small amount of light that entered it filtered through a pane of gla.s.s in the wall of the back-staircase, which ran up close behind.
I have said enough, I hope, for any reflective man to draw the conclusion that, since we desired no unpleasantness with the butler (a man between fifty and sixty, and notoriously incorruptible), our only plan was to make an entrance upstairs by the long window at the end of the picture gallery or corridor--whichever you choose to call it--descend the back-stairs, remove the pane of gla.s.s from the wall, and gain the strong-room through the opening.
The house was dark from end to end, and the stable clock had just chimed the quarter after midnight, when I went up the ladder.
I never looked for much carefulness in this honest country household, but I did expect to spend twenty minutes on the heavy lead-work of the lower panes, and it seemed as good as a miracle to find the lattice unlatched and opening to the first gentle pull. I pressed it back; hitched it under a stem of ivy that the wind might not slam it after me; and, signalling down to Jimmy at the foot of the ladder to wait for my report, pulled myself over the sill and dropped softly into the gallery.
And then somebody stepped quickly from behind the heavy window curtain, reached out, shut the lattice smartly behind me, and said composedly--
"Show a light, Jenkins, and let us have a look at the gentleman."
Though it concerned my neck, I was taken too quickly aback to stir; but stood like a stuck pig, while the butler fumbled with his tinder-box.
"Light _all_ the candles!"
"If it please you, Sir Harry," Jenkins answered, puffing at the tinder.
The first thing I saw by the blue light of the brimstone match was the barrel of old Sir Harry"s pistol glimmering about six inches from my nose. On my left stood a long-legged footman, also with a pistol.
But all this, though discomposing, was no more than I had begun to expect. What really startled me, as old Jenkins lit the candles, was the sight of two women standing a few paces off, beneath a tall picture of a gentleman with a big lace collar. One of them, a short woman with a bunchy shape, I recognised for the housekeeper.
The other I guessed as quickly to be Sir Harry"s daughter, Mistress Kate--a tall and slender young lady, dark-haired, and handsome as any man could wish. She was wrapped in a long travelling-cloak, the hood of which fell a little off her shoulders, allowing a glimpse of white satin. A train of white satin reached below the cloak, and coiled about her pretty feet.
Now, the change from darkness to very bright light--for Jenkins went down the gallery lighting candle after candle, as if for a big reception--made us all wink a bit. And excitement would account for the white of the young lady"s cheeks--I dare say I had turned pretty pale myself. But it did not seem to me to account for the look of sheer blank astonishment--no, it was more than this; a wild kind of wonder would be nearer the mark--that came into her eyes and stayed there. And I didn"t quite see why she should put a hand suddenly against the wainscot, and from sickly white go red as fire and then back to white again. If they were sitting up for housebreakers, I was decidedly a better-looking one than they had any right to expect.
The eyes of the others were fastened on me. I was the only one to take note of the girl"s behaviour: and I declare I spared a second from the consideration of my own case to wonder what the deuce was the matter with her.
"Well, upon my soul!" cried Sir Harry, with something between a laugh and a sniff of disgust; and the footman on the other side of me echoed it with a silly cackle. "He certainly doesn"t look as if he came from Bath!"
"Sir," I expostulated--for when events seem likely to prove overwhelming, I usually find myself clutching at my original respectability--"Sir, although the force of circ.u.mstances has brought me thus low, I am by birth and education a gentleman. Having told you this, I trust that you will remember it, even in the heat of your natural resentment."
"You speak almost as prettily as you write," he answered scornfully, pulling a letter from his pocket.
"This is beyond me," thought I; for of course I knew it could be no letter of mine. Besides, a glance told me that I had never set eyes on the paper or handwriting before. I think my next remark showed self-possession. "Would you be kind enough to explain?" I asked.
"I rather think that should be your business," said he; and faith, I allowed the justice of that contention, awkward though it was. But he went on, "It astonishes you, I dare say, to see this letter in my hand?"
It did. I acknowledged as much with a bow.
He began to read in an affected mimicking voice, "_My ever-loved Kate, since your worthy but wrong-headed father_--"
"Father!" It sounded like an echo. It came from the young lady, who had sprung forward indignantly, and was holding out a hand for the letter. "The servants! Have you not degraded me enough?"
She stamped her foot.
The old gentleman folded up the letter again, and gave it into her hand with a cold bow. She was handing it to me--Oh, the unfathomable depth of woman!--when he interfered.
"For your own delectation if you will, miss; but as your protector I must ask you not to give it back."
He turned towards me again. As he did so, I caught over his shoulder, or fancied I caught, a glance from Miss Kate that was at once a warning and an appeal. The next moment her eyes were bent shamefast upon the floor. I began to divine.
Said I, "If that"s a sample of your manner towards your daughter, even you, in your cooler moments, can hardly wonder that she chooses another protector."
"Protector!" he repeated, lifting his eyebrows; and that infernal footman cackled again.
"If you can"t behave with common politeness to a lady," I put in smartly, "you might at least exhibit enough of rude intelligence to lay hold of an argument that"s as plain as the nose on your face!"
"Gently, my good sir!" said he. "Do you know that, if I choose, I can march you off to jail for a common housebreaker?"
I should think I did know it--a plaguy sight better than he!
"To begin with," he went on, "you look like one, for all the world."
This was sailing too close for my liking.
"Old gentleman," said I, "you are wearisomely dull. Possibly I had better explain at length. To be frank, then, I had counted, in case of failure, to avoid all scandal to your daughter"s name. I had hoped (you will excuse me) to have carried her off and evaded you until I could present myself as her husband. If baffled in this, I proposed to make my escape as a common burglar surprised upon your premises. It seems to me," I wound up, including the three servants with an indignant sweep of the arm, "that you might well have emulated my delicacy! As it is, I must trouble you to recognise it."
"Heaven send," I added to myself, "that the real inamorato keeps his bungling foot out of this till I get clear!" And I reflected with much comfort that he was hardly likely to make an attempt upon premises so brilliantly lit up.
"In justice to my daughter"s taste," replied Sir Harry, "I am willing to believe you looked something less like a jail-bird when she met you in the Pump Room at Bath. You have fine clothes in your portmanteau no doubt, and I sincerely trust they make all the difference to your appearance. But a fine suit is no expensive outfit for the capture of an heiress. You may be the commonest of adventurers. How do I know, even, what right you have to the name you carry?"
If he didn"t, it was still more certain that I didn"t. Indeed he had a conspicuous advantage over me in knowing what that name was.
This very painful difficulty had hardly presented itself, however, before the girl"s wit smoothed it away. She spoke up,--looking as innocent as an angel, too.
"Captain Fitzroy Pilkington could add no l.u.s.tre to his name, father, by giving it to me. His family is as good as our own, and his name is one to be proud of."
"So it is, my dear," thought I, "if I can only remember it. So it"s Captain Fitzroy Pilkington I am--and from Bath. Decidedly I should have taken some time in guessing it."
"I suppose, sir, I may take it for granted you have not brought your credentials here to-night?" said the old boy, with a grim smile.
It was lucky he had not thought of searching my pockets for them.
"Scarcely, sir," I answered, smiling too and catching his mood; and then thought I would play a bold card for freedom. "Come, come, sir," I said; "I have tried to deceive you, and you have enjoyed a very adequate revenge. Do not prolong this interview to the point of inflicting torture on two hearts whose only crime is that of loving too ardently. You have your daughter. Suffer me to return to the inn in the village, and in the morning I will call on you with my credentials and humbly ask for her hand. If, on due examination of my history and circ.u.mstances, you see fit to refuse me--why then you make two lovers miserable: but I give you my word--the word of a Fitzroy Pilkington--that I will respect that decision. "Parcius junctas quatiam fenestras": or, rather, I will discontinue the practice altogether."
"William," said Sir Harry, shortly, to the footman, "show Mr.
Pilkington to the door. Will you take your ladder away with you, sir, or will you call for it to-morrow?"