Part 16 (1/2)

”Nothing,” Peter admitted drearily. Hilary's shame before him could hardly now add to the badness of the situation, as it had once done; the badness of situations has a limit, and this one had reached its limit some three hours since, just before he had laughed in Lord Evelyn's drawing-room.

”Oh,” said Peter, very tired suddenly, ”never mind me; what does that matter? The point is ... well, you see the point, naturally.”

Yes, Hilary saw the point. With a faint groan he ran his fingers through his hair and began to pace up and down the room in agitation.

He said, ”That brute Cheriton.... An execrable bounder; I always knew it.

What _right_ had he?... It's too horrible, too abominable.... Just when we were doing our best to get the thing onto straight lines....” He wheeled about and paced back again, with quick, uneven steps. Between him and the motionless Peter, Peggy stood, looking from one to the other. Her merry eyes were quite grave now. The situation was certainly appalling.

”We must leave Venice,” said Peggy, on a sigh. That seemed, certainly, the only thing to be done.

Hilary groaned again.

”Oh, Lord, what are we let in for? What will be the result, if he prosecutes? It may be utter ruin.... I know nothing of these things.

Of course, in justice nothing could be done to us--for, after all, what harm have we done? Anyone may insert advertis.e.m.e.nts for pay, and it only amounted to that.... But justice isn't taken into much account in the law-courts.... It is a horrible, cast-iron system--the relic of a barbarous age.... I don't know what we mayn't be in for, or how we shall come out of it. You don't know either, Peter; you know nothing of law--nothing. It mustn't come into court; that is unthinkable. We will make full apologies--any rest.i.tution within our power that Lord Evelyn demands.... I shall go there; I shall see him about it, and appeal to his better feelings. He has been a friend of mine. He has always been good to you, Peter. The memory of your mother.... Appeal to that. You must go to him and see what can be done. Yes, it had better be you; he has a kinder feeling for you, I believe, than for me.”

”He has no kind feeling for me,” said Peter dully. ”He is more annoyed with me than with you.”

Hilary jerked his head impatiently.

”Nonsense. You want to s.h.i.+rk; you want to leave me to get out of the mess for myself. Oh, of course, you're not legally involved; I am aware of that; you can leave the sinking s.h.i.+p if you choose, and save yourself.”

Peggy said, ”Don't be ridiculous, darling. Peter's doing his best for us, as he always has,” and came and stood at her brother-in-law's side, kind and big and comforting, with a hand on his arm.

Hilary went on querulously, ”I'm asking Peter to do a simple thing--to use his friends.h.i.+p with the Urquharts to help me out of this mess. If you don't want to see Lord Evelyn, Peter, you can go to Denis. He's a friend of yours; he's--he's your kind of step-brother. You can easily persuade him to get the thing hushed up. You've always pretended that he was a friend of yours. Go and see him, then, for heaven's sake, and help us all out of this miserable predicament.”

Peter was still silent, staring down at the dark ribbon of s.h.i.+ning water that lapped against two old brick walls, a shut lane full of stars.

Peggy, her hand on his arm, said gently, ”Oh, Peter'll do his best for us, of course he will, won't you, Peter.”

Peter sighed very faintly into the dark night.

”I will do anything I can, naturally. It won't be much, you know.”

”You will go to the Urquharts to-morrow morning, and appeal to them?”

said Hilary.

”Yes,” said Peter. ”I will do that.”

Hilary breathed a sigh of relief, and flung himself into a chair.

”Thanks, Peter. I believe that is the best we can do. You will persuade them at least to be just, not to push the matter to unfair extremes.... _Oh, my G.o.d, what a life!_” His beautiful, unhappy face was hidden in his hands; he shuddered from head to foot, feeling horribly sick. The Margerison organism was sensitive.

Peggy, bending over him, drew caressing fingers through his dark hair and said, ”Go to bed, you poor old dear, and don't worry any more to-night.

Worry won't help now, will it?”

”Bed?” said Hilary. ”Bed? What's the use of that? I shouldn't sleep a wink. I have a frightful head, and I must go and find Vyvian and tell him.”

Peggy sniffed. ”Much Vyvian'll care! He's been in bad odour all his life, I should fancy. One more row won't bother _him_ much. I wish it would; it would be almost worth while to be upset if Guy Vyvian was going to be upset too--the waster. Well, I wonder anyhow will this show that silly little Rhoda what sort of a creature she's been making a golden calf of.... Well, go and wake Vyvian, then, darling, and then come and tell me what he said to it. Peter, you're dropping to sleep as you stand.”