Part 12 (1/2)
”Indeed you are not doing that. I am very, very glad to see you, Mr.
Brendon. You are going to stop for dinner? We always dine in the middle of the day.”
”May I?”
”You must. And tea also. Come up to Uncle Bendigo now. I'll leave you with him for an hour. Then dinner will be ready. Giuseppe always joins us. You won't mind?”
”The last of the Doria! I've probably never shared a meal with such high company!”
She led him up the flight of stairs to the old sailor's sanctum.
”Mr. Brendon to see us, Uncle Ben,” she said, and Mr. Redmayne took his eye from the big telescope.
”A blow's coming,” he announced. ”Wind's s.h.i.+fted a point to southward. Dirty weather already in the Channel.”
He shook hands and Jenny disappeared. Bendigo was pleased to see Brendon, but his interest in his brother had apparently waned. He avoided the subject of Robert Redmayne, though he revealed other matters in his mind which he approached with a directness that rather astonished the detective.
”I'm a rough bird,” he said, ”but I keep my weather peeper open, and I didn't find it difficult to see when you were here in the summer, that my fine niece took your fancy. She's the sort, apparently, that makes men lose their balance a bit. For my part I never had any use for a woman since I was weaned, and have always mistrusted the creatures, seeing how many of my messmates ran on the rocks over 'em. But I'm free to grant that Jenny has made my house very comfortable and appears to feel kindly to me.”
”Of course she does, Mr. Redmayne.”
”Hold on till I've done. At this minute I'm in sight of a very vexatious problem; because my right hand--Giuseppe Doria--has got his eyes on Jenny; and though he's priceless as a single man and she's invaluable as a single woman, if the beggar gets round her and makes her fall in love with him presently, then they'll be married next year and that's good-bye to both of 'em!”
Mark found himself a good deal embarra.s.sed by this confidence.
”In your place,” he said, ”I should certainly drop Doriaa pretty clear hint. What is good form in Italy he knows better than we do, or ought to, seeing he's a gentleman; but you can tell him it's d.a.m.ned bad form to court a newly made widow--especially one who loved her husband as your niece did, and who has been separated from him under such tragic circ.u.mstances.”
”That's all right; and if there was only one in it I might do so; though for that matter I'm afraid Doria isn't going to stop here much longer in any case. He doesn't say so, but I can see it's only Jenny who is keeping him. You've got to consider her too. I'm not going to say she encourages the man or anything like that. Of course she doesn't. But, as I tell you, I'm pretty wide awake and it's no good denying that she can endure his company without hurting herself. He's a handsome creature and he's got a way with him, and she's young.”
”I rather thought he was out for money--enough money to reestablish the vanished glories of his race.”
”So he was and, of course, he knows he can't do that with Jenny's twenty thousand; but love casts out a good many things besides fear.
It blights ambition--for the time being anyway--and handicaps a man on every side in the race for life. All Doria wants now is Jenny Pendean, and he'll get her if I'm a judge. I wouldn't mind too much either, if they could stop along with me and go on as we're going; but of course that wouldn't happen. As it is Doria has come to be a friend. He does all he's paid to do and a lot more; but he's more a guest than a servant, and I shall miss him like the devil when he goes.”
”It's hard to see what you can do, Mr. Redmayne.”
”So it is. I don't wish to come between my niece and her happiness, and I can't honestly say that Doria wouldn't be a good husband, though good husbands are rare everywhere and never rarer than in Italy, I believe. He might change his mind after they'd been wed a year and hanker for his ambitions again and money to carry them out.
Jenny will have plenty some day, for there's poor Bob's money sooner or late, I suppose, and there'll be mine and her Uncle Albert's so far as I know. But, taking it by and large, I'd a good bit sooner it didn't happen. I'll tell you these things because you're a famous man, with plenty of credit for good sense.”
”I appreciate the confidence and can return a confidence,” answered Brendon after a moment's reflection. ”I do admire Mrs. Pendean. She is, of course, amazingly beautiful, and she has a gracious and charming nature. With such distinction of character you may rest a.s.sured that nothing will happen yet a while. Your niece will be faithful to her late husband's memory for many a long month, if not forever.”
”I believe that,” answered Bendigo. ”We can mark time, I don't doubt, till the turn of the year or maybe longer. But there it is: they are thrown together every day of their lives and, though Jenny would hide it very carefully from me, and probably from herself also as far as she could, I guess he's going to win out.”
Brendon said no more. He was cast down and did not hide the fact.
”Mind you, I'd much prefer an Englishman,” admitted the sailor; ”but there's n.o.body to make any running in these parts. Giuseppe's got it all his own way.” Then he left the subject. ”No news, I suppose, of my poor brother?”
”None, Mr. Redmayne.”
”I'd pinned my faith that the whole horrid thing might be capable of explanation along some other lines. But the blood was proved to be human?”
”Yes.”