Part 40 (1/2)

”Now then, Dolly Varden, you keep your thieving tongs away from my scarfpin, old lady!” exclaimed this enthusiast to a magpie which perched upon his shoulder and immediately made a peck at the small pearl in his necktie. ”Awfullest old thief and vagrant that ever sprouted a feather, this beauty,” he explained to Cleek as he smoothed the magpie's head. ”Steal your eye teeth if she could get at them, and goes off on the loose like a blessed wandering gypsy. Lost her for three days and nights a couple of weeks ago, and the Lord knows where the old vagrant put in her time. What's that? The white stuff on her beak? Blest if I know. Been pecking at a wall or something, I reckon, and--hullo! There's Carruthers and his little lords.h.i.+p strolling about hand in hand. Let's go and have a word with them. Strathmere's amazingly fond of my mice and birds.”

With that he walked away with the mice and the monkeys and the squirrel clinging to him, and those of the birds that were not perched upon his shoulders or his hands circling round his head with a flurry of moving wings. Cleek followed. A word in private with the Honourable Felix was accountable for his appearance in the grounds with the boy, and Cleek was anxious to get a good look at him without exciting any possible suspicion in Lady Essington's mind regarding the ”Lieutenant's” interest in him.

He was a bonny little chap, this last Earl of Strathmere, with a head and face that might have done duty for one of Raphael's ”Cherubim”

and the big ”wonder eyes” that make baby faces so alluring.

”Strathmere, this is Lieutenant Deland, come all the way from India to visit us,” said the Honourable Felix, as Cleek went down on his knees and spoke to the boy (examining him carefully the while).

”Won't you tell him you are pleased to see him?”

”Pleased to see oo,” said the boy, then broke into a shout of glee as he caught sight of young Essington with the animals and birds.

”Pitty birdies! pitty mouses! Give! give!” he exclaimed eagerly, stretching forth his little hands.

”Certainly. Which will you have, old chap--magpie, parrakeet, pigeon, monkey, or mice?” said young Essington, gayly. ”Here! take the lot and be happy!” Then he made as if to bundle them all into the child's arms, and might have succeeded in doing so, but that Cleek rose up and came between them and the boy.

”Do have some sense, Essington!” he rapped out sharply. ”Those things may not bite nor claw you, but one can't be sure when they are handled by some one else. Besides, the boy is not well and he ought not to be frightened.”

”Sorry, old chap--always puttin' my foot into it. But Strathmere likes 'em, don't you, bonny boy? and I didn't think.”

”Take them back to the stables and let's have a go at billiards for an hour or two before tea,” said Cleek, turning as Essington walked away, and looking after him with narrowed eyes and lips indrawn. When man and birds were out of sight, however, he made a sharp and sudden sound, and almost in a twinkling his ”Indian servant” slipped into sight from behind a nearby hedge.

”Get round there and examine those birds after he's left them,” said Cleek, in a swift whisper. ”There's one--a magpie--with something smeared on its beak. Find out what it is and bring me a sample. Look sharp!”

”Right you are, sir,” answered in excellent c.o.c.kney the undersized person addressed. ”I'll spread one of me famous 'Tickle Tootsies'

and nip in and ketch the bloomin' 'awk as soon as the josser's back is turned, guv'ner. I'm off, as the squib said to the match when it started blowin' of him up.” Then the face disappeared again, and the child and the two men were again alone together.

”Good G.o.d, man!” exclaimed the Honourable Felix in a lowered voice of strong excitement. ”You can't possibly believe that he--that dear, lovable boy----Oh, it is beyond belief!”

”Nothing is 'beyond belief' in _my_ line, my friend. Recollect that even Lucifer was an angel _once_. I know the means employed to bring about this”--touching softly the three red spots on his little lords.h.i.+p's neck--”but I have yet to decide how the thing is administered and by whom. Frankly I do not believe it is done with a bird's beak--though that, too, is possible, wild as it seems--but by this time to-morrow I promise you the riddle shall be solved. Sh-h! Don't speak--he's coming back. Take the boy into your own room to-night, but leave the door unfastened. I'm coming down to watch by him with you. Let him first be put into the regular nursery, however, then take him out without the knowledge of any living soul--of _any_, you hear?--and I will be with you before midnight.”

That night two curious things happened: The first was that at a quarter to seven, when Martha, the nursemaid, coming up into the nursery to put his little lords.h.i.+p to bed, found Lieutenant Deland--who was supposed to be dressing for dinner at the time--standing in the middle of the room looking all about the place.

”Don't be startled, Nurse,” he said, as he looked round and saw her.

”Your master has asked me to design a new decoration for this room, and I'm having a peep about in quest of inspiration. Ah, Strathmere, 'Dustman's time,' I see. Pleasant dreams to you, old chap. See you in the morning when you're awake.”

”Say good night to the gentleman, your lords.h.i.+p,” said the nurse, laying both hands on his shoulders and leading him forward, whereupon he began to whine sleepily: ”Want Sambo! Want Sambo!” and to rub his fists into his eyes.

”Yes, dearie, Nanny'll get Sambo for your lords.h.i.+p after your lords.h.i.+p has said good night to the gentleman,” soothed the nurse; and held him gently until he had done so.

”Good night, old chap,” said Cleek. ”h.e.l.lo, Nurse, got a sore finger, have you, eh? How did that happen? It looks painful.”

”It is, sir, though I can't for the life of me think whatever could have made a thing so bad from just scratching one's finger, unless it could have happened that there was something poisonous on the wretched magpie's claws. One never can be sure where those nasty things go nor what they dip into.”

”The magpie?” repeated Cleek. ”What do you mean by that, Nurse? Have you had an unpleasant experience with a magpie, then?”

”Yes, sir, that big one of Mr. Essington's: the nasty creature that's always flying about. It was a fortnight ago, sir. Mistress'

pet dog had got into the nursery and laid hold of Sambo--which is his lords.h.i.+p's rag doll, sir, as he never will go to sleep without--tore it well nigh to pieces did the dog; and knowing how his lords.h.i.+p would cry and mourn if he saw it like that, I fetched in my work-basket and started to mend it. I'd just got it pulled into something like shape and was about to sew it up when I was called out of the room for a few minutes, and when I came back there was that wretched Magpie that had been missing for several days right inside my work-basket trying to steal my reels of cotton, sir. It had come in through the open window--like it so often does, nasty thing. I loathe magpies and I believe that that one knows it. Anyway, when I caught up a towel and began to flick at it to get it out of the room, it turned on me and scratched or pecked my finger, and it's been bad ever since. Cook says she thinks I must have touched it against something poisonous after the skin was broken. Maybe I did, sir, but I can't think what.”