Part 23 (1/2)

At this--put point-blank--the stranger stared, and the decanter which he had reached for, to fill up again, was held arrested in mid-air.

”Well, I'll get to it,” he said, following out his immediate purpose, and tossing off a good half of the same. ”I've been knocking about all my life--and it _has_ been a life, mind you--and now I want to squat.

Some nice, bright, pleasant neighbourhood where there's good company and a bit of sport to be had; like this, for instance.”

”Quite natural,” said the Squire pleasantly. ”Made your pile, I suppose, and want to settle down and enjoy it.”

The other winked.

”Not much 'pile,'” he said. ”For the rest you're right. I do want to enjoy it--if by 'it' you mean life--and it strikes me this is just the corner of this little island to do it in.” And down went the remainder of the gla.s.s.

The Squire was relieved to find that the liquor had no effect upon the man whatever, for though he had lowered practically a tumbler of it neat, and within a very short interval of time, he talked with the same easy, confident drawl, nor did his speech show any signs of thickening.

The said speech, by the way, was correct, and not by any means that of an uneducated person.

”And--the business?”

”That's it, Squire. I want a nice snug little box, where I can smoke my pipe in peace and stable a horse or two, and have a day's shooting now and again, and throw a fly when I want. That's reasonable, isn't it?”

”Quite. But, then--I'm not a house agent.”

”Ha--ha--ha! Capital joke--capital! Well, for once in your life you shall be one--”

”Eh?”

”--And find me exactly what I want. I think the terms are easy. Only there is another trifling detail I forgot. You were mentioning a 'pile'

just now. Well, I haven't made any pile--rather the other way on. Now, that modest establishment I suggest will want a little keeping up--a banking account, you understand.”

”Yes; it would want that.”

”Well, then, you could arrange all that for me too,” rejoined the stranger airily, though at heart somewhat disconcerted by the old diplomat's coolness. ”Come, now; the terms are not hard. What do you think?”

”Shall I tell you what I think?”

”Do.”

”I think you must be an escaped lunatic.”

”Ah, you think that, do you? Well, I'm not going to lose my temper with you, Squire; in fact, I admire your gameness. But it's of no use. I like this part of the country, and I'm here to stay. When I've prospected around a little more I'll tell you which place I'll take, and how much it will require to keep up.”

”Yes? Pray be modest when you do.”

The other laughed. The mild sarcasm tickled him, and he felt so sure of his ground.

”I think I am, all things considered,” he said. ”Of course, we can break off the deal--right now. You are all right for your life, but what price when your son Wagram has to pack up and go, as, of course, he will? You have another son?”

”No.”

”What? Oh, Squire! Ah, I see. You don't own him, and all that sort of thing. Well, I'm not surprised, and I don't blame you, for he's a hard case. Upon my word, he's a devilish hard case--one of the hardest cases I've ever struck, and that's saying a gaudy good deal. Well, now, I know exactly where to put my finger on him, and when Wagram has to pack, why, then, the other one--Everard--comes in. It'll all be his then, and won't he make things hum!”

”I should think he most probably would, unless he's vastly changed since I last saw him,” smiled the old man, as if his visitor had just vented some pleasant witticism.