Part 21 (1/2)

As he did so he heard a loud noise, as of harsh, rattling winds in the next room, and he knew that Sir Raffle had come back from the Treasury. There was a creaking of boots, and a knocking of chairs, and a ringing of bells, and then a loud angry voice,--a voice that was very harsh, and on this occasion very angry. Why had not his twelve-o'clock letters been sent up to him to the West End? Why not?

Mr. Eames knew all about it. Why did Mr. Eames know all about it? Why had not Mr. Eames sent them up? Where was Mr. Eames? Let Mr. Eames be sent to him. All which Mr. Eames heard standing with the cigar in his mouth and his back to the fire. ”Somebody has been bullying old Buffle, I suppose. After all he has been at the Treasury to-day,”

said Eames to himself. But he did not stir till the messenger had been to him, nor even then, at once. ”All right, Rafferty,” he said; ”I'll go in just now.” Then he took half-a-dozen more whiffs from the cigar, threw the remainder into the fire, and opened the door which communicated between his room and Sir Raffle's.

The great man was standing with two unopened epistles in his hand.

”Eames,” said he, ”here are letters--” Then he stopped himself, and began upon another subject. ”Did I not give express orders that I would have no smoking in the office?”

”I think Mr. Kissing said something about it, sir.”

”Mr. Kissing! It was not Mr. Kissing at all. It was I. I gave the order myself.”

”You'll find it began with Mr. Kissing.”

”It did not begin with Mr. Kissing; it began and ended with me. What are you going to do, sir?” John Eames had stepped towards the bell, and his hand was already on the bell-pull.

”I was going to ring for the papers, sir.”

”And who told you to ring for the papers? I don't want the papers.

The papers won't show anything. I suppose my word may be taken without the papers. Since you're so fond of Mr. Kissing--”

”I'm not fond of Mr. Kissing at all.”

”You'll have to go back to him, and let somebody come here who will not be too independent to obey my orders. Here are two most important letters have been lying here all day, instead of being sent up to me at the Treasury.”

”Of course they have been lying there. I thought you were at the club.”

”I told you I should go to the Treasury. I have been there all the morning with the chancellor,”--when Sir Raffle spoke officially of the chancellor he was not supposed to mean the Lord Chancellor--”and here I find letters which I particularly wanted lying upon my desk now. I must put an end to this kind of thing. I must, indeed. If you like the outer office better say so at once, and you can go.”

”I'll think about it, Sir Raffle.”

”Think about it! What do you mean by thinking about it? But I can't talk about that now. I'm very busy, and shall be here till past seven. I suppose you can stay?”

”All night, if you wish it, sir.”

”Very well. That will do for the present.--I wouldn't have had these letters delayed for twenty pounds.”

”I don't suppose it would have mattered one straw if both of them remained unopened till next week.” This last little speech, however, was not made aloud to Sir Raffle, but by Johnny to himself in the solitude of his own room.

Very soon after that he went away, Sir Raffle having discovered that one of the letters in question required his immediate return to the West End. ”I've changed my mind about staying. I shan't stay now. I should have done if these letters had reached me as they ought.”

”Then I suppose I can go?”

”You can do as you like about that,” said Sir Raffle.

Eames did do as he liked, and went home, or to his club; and as he went he resolved that he would put an end, and at once, to the present trouble of his life. Lily Dale should accept him or reject him; and, taking either the one or the other alternative, she should hear a bit of his mind plainly spoken.

CHAPTER XVI.

DOWN AT ALLINGTON.