Part 11 (2/2)

”All I can say is, Sir Thomas, that voices, not my own, whisper constantly in my ear that the shadow of the three giant towers upon Richmond Hill lies across your path.”

Poor thing, she was almost hysterical in those times, and I paid little heed to her words. As for the scoop, no other paper had even hinted at Rolston's revelation. I had faithfully kept my word to Morse, not forgetting that he had promised to explain everything--in September.

As the train swung out of Liverpool Street and Pat and Arthur were ragging each other as to who should have the _Times_ first, I experienced a sense of mental relief. Only a few hours now and the great question of my life would be settled, once and for all. No more doubts, no more uncertainties.

During the last three months, Arthur and Pat had left me very much to myself. They had behaved with the most perfect tact and kindness, Arthur, as I have said, having obtained for me the invitation to Cerne.

Now, after we had traveled for a couple of hours and the luncheon baskets had been opened, old Pat lit a cigar and looked across at me.

His big, brown face was grave, and he played with his mustache as if in some embarra.s.sment.

He and Arthur glanced at each other, and I understood what was in their minds.

”Look here, you fellows,” I said, ”about the sacred Brotherhood--what is it in Spanish?”

”Santa Hermandad,” said Arthur.

”Well, you've kept your oath splendidly. I cannot thank you enough. I have had the running all to myself--as far as you two are concerned, for twelve weeks.”

”Yes, twelve weeks,” Pat replied, with a sigh. ”We've kept out of the way, old fellow, and I tell you it's been hard!”

Arthur nodded in corroboration, and somehow or other I felt myself a cur. Since boyhood we three had been like brothers, and it was a hard fate indeed that led us to center all our hopes upon something that could belong to one alone.

Despite what must have been their burning eagerness to know how things stood, both of them were far too delicate-minded and well-bred to ask a question. I knew it was up to me to satisfy them.

”Without going into details,” I said, ”I'll tell you just how it is, how I think it is, for I may be quite wrong, and presuming upon what doesn't exist.”

I thought for a moment, and chose my words carefully. It was extremely difficult to say what I had to say.

”It comes to about this,” I got out at last. ”I've every reason to believe that she likes me. There's nothing decisive, but I've been given some hope. I very nearly put it to the test three months ago, but was interrupted and never had the chance again. At Cerne I'm going to try, finally. By hook or crook, in forty-eight hours, I'll have some news for you. And if I get the sack, then let the next man go in and win if he can, and I'll join the third in doing everything that lies in my power to help him.”

”I am next,” said Pat Moore, ”not that I've the deuce of a chance. But I think you've spoken like a d.a.m.n good sort, Tom, and we thank you. Arthur and I will do our best to keep every one else off the gra.s.s while you go in and try your luck. Faith! I'll make love to the duenna with the white hair meself and keep her out of the way, and Arthur here will consult with Morse upon the expediency of investing his large capital, which he hasn't got, in a Brazil-nut farm. Anyhow, Perth, who has been the safety bet with all the tipsters, won't be there. He's such a rotten shot that Sir Walter wouldn't dream of asking him. The bag has got to be kept up. For three years now, only Sandringham has beat it and a duffer at a drive would send the average down appallingly.”

”What about me?” I asked, with a sinking of the heart.

”G.o.d forgive me,” said Arthur, ”I've lied about you to Sir Walter like the secretary of a building society to a maiden lady with two thousand pounds. He was astonished that he had never heard of your shooting--of course, he knows all the shots of the day, and I had to tell him a fairy story about your late lamented father who was a Puritan and would never let his son join country house-parties because they played cards after dinner.”

I smiled, on the wrong side of my mouth. My dear old governor had been anything but a Puritan: I feared the scandal which would inevitably ensue when I went out for the first big drive.

”That's all right, Tom,” said Arthur, ”you'll simply have to sprain your ankle, or I'll give you a good hack in the s.h.i.+n privately if you like.

Sir Walter has only to send a wire to get a first-cla.s.s gun down. There are at least a dozen men I know who would almost commit parricide for the chance.”

After that, by general consent, the subject of the league was dropped.

We all knew where we were, and for the rest of the journey we talked of ordinary things.

It was a bright afternoon in early autumn when we stopped at the little local station and got into a waiting motor-car, while our servants collected our things and followed in the baggage lorry. For myself, I felt in the highest spirits as we buzzed along the three miles to Cerne Hall. There was a pleasant nip in the air; the vast landscape was yellow gold, as acre after acre of stubble stretched towards the horizon. Gray church towers embowered in trees broke the vast monotony, and I surrendered myself to a happy dream of Juanita, while Arthur and Pat talked shooting and marked covies that rose on either side as we whirred by.

When we arrived at Cerne Hall it was not yet tea-time, and everybody was out. The butler showed us to our rooms, all close together in the south wing of the fine old house, and I smoked a cigarette while Preston was unpacking.

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