Part 19 (1/2)

”Well, get tea now, as quick as you can. I can't think where Mr Gallup can have got to.”

Miss Gallup lit a candle and went straight upstairs to her nephew's room. His clothes were still in the drawers as she, herself, had arranged them--but the suit-case, the smart new leather suit-case, with E. A. G. in large black letters upon its lid, was gone.

Miss Gallup sank heavily on a chair. What could it mean?

She immediately connected the advent of the strange young lady and the disappearance of her nephew's suit-case.

She took off her bonnet and cloak and did not put them away, but left them lying on her bed; a sure sign of perturbation with Miss Gallup, who was the tidiest of mortals.

She sought Em'ly-Alice in the bright little kitchen. ”What was the young lady like?” she asked.

”Oh a superior young person, Miss, all in black.”

”Young, was she?” Miss Gallup remarked suspiciously.

”Yes, Miss, quite young, I should say--about my own age; I couldn't see 'er face very well, but she did talk like the gentry, very soft and distinct.”

”Did Mr Gallup seem pleased to see her?”

”That I couldn't say, Miss, I'm sure. I left 'em together and come out and shut the door.”

Miss Gallup went back to the parlour shaking her head.

”There's a lot of them will be after him now 'e's stood for Parliament,” she reflected grimly; ”but I did _not_ think they'd have the face to track him to his aunt's house. She's hanging about the lanes for him now I'll warrant. Miss b.u.t.termish indeed!”

CHAPTER XIV

THE ELECTION

Eloquent had taken a small furnished house in Marlehouse, and was installed there with a housekeeper and manservant for the fortnight preceding the election. The Moonstone, chief, and in fact only, hotel in the town, was ”blue,” and although the proprietor would have been glad enough to secure Eloquent's custom, it was felt better ”for all parties” that he should make his headquarters elsewhere. He worked hard and unceasingly, his agent was equally tireless, and it was only at the last that Mr Brooke's supporters awoke to the fact that if he was to represent Marlehouse again no stone should be left unturned.

But it was too late: Mr Brooke, elderly, amiable, and lethargic, was quite incapable of either directing or controlling his more ardent supporters, and their efforts on his behalf were singularly devoid of tact. The Tory and Unionist ladies were grievous offenders in this respect. They started a house-to-house canva.s.s in the town, and those possessed of carriages or motors parcelled out the surrounding villages and ”did” them, their methods being the reverse of conciliatory.

Indeed, had Mr Brooke in the smallest degree realised how these zealous supporters were injuring his cause, his smiling optimism would have been sadly shaken.

The day after the accident Eloquent called at Marlehouse Infirmary to ask for Buz, and was informed that the arm had been set successfully, that it was a bad break, but that the Rontgen rays had been used, and it was going on satisfactorily.

He wondered if he ought to send flowers or fruit to the invalid, but a vivid recollection of the look in Buz's eyes as he watched him pack his suit-case decided him that any such manifestation of sympathy would be unsuitable. He then, although he was so rushed that he could hardly overtake his engagements, hired a motor to drive out to the Manor House, and so hurried the chauffeur that they fell straightway into a police trap and were ”warned.”

He asked for Mrs Ffolliot, and Fusby blandly informed him that she was in Marlehouse with Master Buz.

”Is Miss Ffolliot at home?” Eloquent asked boldly.

”Miss Ffolliot is out huntin' with the young gentlemen,” Fusby remarked stiffly.

So Eloquent was fain to get into his motor again, and quite forgot to look in on his aunt on the way back.

The night before the election there was a Liberal meeting in the Town Hall, and a certain section of the Tory party, a youthful and irresponsible section it must be confessed, had arranged to attend the meeting, and if possible bring it to nought. The ringleader in this scheme was a young man named Rabb.i.+.c.h, whose people some years before had bought a large property in a village about four miles from Redmarley.

Mr Rabb.i.+.c.h, senr., was an extremely wealthy man with many irons in the fire, a man so busy that he found little time to look after either his property or his family, and though he, himself, was generally declared to be a ”very decent sort” with no nonsense or ”side” about him, and of a praiseworthy liberality in the matter of subscriptions, his wife and children did not find equal favour either in the eyes of the villagers or those of his neighbours.