Part 16 (1/2)
”What's the matter?” said Mr. Carrington.
The excited young Pomeranian Briton, taking in his age and size at a single glance, shoved him aside with splendid violence. Mr. Carrington seemed to step lightly backward and forward in one movement; his left arm shot out; and there befell Mr. D'Arcy Rosenheimer what, in the technical terms affected by the fancy, is described as ”an uppercut on the point which put him to sleep.” He fell as falls a sack of potatoes, and lay like a log.
The keeper had just disengaged himself from the car and hurried forward.
”Do you want some too, my good man?” said Mr. Carrington in his most agreeable tone, keeping his guard rather low.
The keeper stopped short and looked down, with a satisfaction he made no effort to hide, at the body of his stricken employer which lay between them.
”I can't say as I do, sir,” he said civilly; and he backed away.
”Then perhaps you'll be good enough to tell me the name of this hulking young blackguard who a.s.saults quiet elderly gentlemen, taking const.i.tutionals, in this most unprovoked and wanton fas.h.i.+on,” said the higher mathematician in the same agreeable tone.
”a.s.saults?--'Im a.s.sault?--Yes, sir; it's Mr. D'Arcy Rosenheimer, of Great Deeping Court, sir,” said the keeper respectfully.
”Then tell Mr. D'Arcy Rosenheimer, when he recovers the few wits he looks to have, with my compliments, that he will some time this evening be summoned for a.s.sault. Good afternoon,” said Mr. Carrington, and he turned on his heel.
The keeper and the chauffeur stooped over the body of their young employer. Mr. Carrington did not so much as turn his head. He put his walking-stick under his arm, and rubbed the knuckles of his left hand with rueful tenderness. None the less he looked pleased; it was gratifying to a slight man of his sedentary habit to have knocked down such a large, round Pomeranian Briton with such exquisite neatness.
Wheeling their bicycles, Erebus and Wiggins walked beside him with a proud air. They felt that they shone with his reflected glory. It was a delightful sensation.
They had gone some forty yards, when Erebus said in a hushed, awed, yet gratified tone: ”Have you killed him, Mr. Carrington?”
”No, my child. I am not a pork-butcher,” said Mr. Carrington amiably.
”He _looked_ as if he was dead,” said Erebus; and there was a faint ring of disappointment in her tone.
”In a short time the young man will come to himself; and let us hope that it will be a better and wiser self,” said Mr. Carrington. ”But what was it all about? What did that truculent young ruffian want with Rupert?”
Erebus paused, looking earnestly round to the horizon for inspiration; then she dashed at the awkward subject with commendable glibness: ”It was a pheasant in Great Deeping wood,” she said. ”The Terror found it, I suppose. I had gone on, and I didn't see that part. But it was Wiggins the keeper caught. Of course--”
”I beg your pardon; but I should like that point a little clearer,”
broke in Mr. Carrington. ”Had you ridden on too, Rupert? Or did you see what happened?”
”Oh, yes; I was there,” said Wiggins readily. ”And the Terror found the pheasant in the wood and put it in his bicycle basket. And we had just got on our bicycles when the keeper came out of the wood, and I ran into him; and he collared me and took me up to the Court. I wasn't really frightened--at least, not much.”
”The keeper had no right to touch him,” Erebus broke in glibly.
”Wiggins never touched the pheasant; he didn't even go into the wood; and when I went into the hall, the hall of the Court, I found him and the keeper sitting there, and I let Wiggins out, of course, and then that horrid Mr. D'Arcy Rosenheimer who shoots nightingales, caught hold of me by the arm ever so roughly, and I slapped him just once. I should think that the mark is still there ”--her speed of speech slackened to a slower vengeful gratification and then quickened again--”and he began to thump me and the footman interfered, and I came away, and they came after us in the car, and you saw what happened--at least you did it.”
She stopped somewhat breathless.
”Lucidity itself,” said Mr. Carrington. ”But let us have the matter of the pheasant clear. Was the Terror exploring the wood on the chance of finding a pheasant, or had he reason to expect that a pheasant would be there ready to be brought home?”
Erebus blushed faintly, looked round the horizon somewhat aimlessly, and said, ”Well, there was a snare, you know.”
Mr. Carrington chuckled and said: ”I thought so. I thought we should come to that snare in time. Did you know there was a snare, Rupert?”
”Oh, no, he didn't know anything about it!” Erebus broke in quickly.
”We should never have thought of letting him into anything so dangerous! He's so young!”
”I shall be eleven in a fortnight!” said Wiggins with some heat.
”You see, we wanted a fur stole at Barker's in Rowington for a Christmas present for mother; and pheasants were the only way we could think of getting it,” said Erebus in a confidential tone.