Part 44 (2/2)

There was a silence. Nicholas was watching Antony from under his s.h.a.ggy eyebrows. The man was actually hesitating, debating! What in the name of wonder did the hesitation mean? Surely the offer of the post of agent was infinitely preferable to that of under-gardener? If the latter had been accepted, why on earth should there be hesitation regarding the former?

So marvelled Nicholas, having, of course, no clue to the inner workings of Antony's mind. And even if he had had, the workings would have appeared to him illogical and unreasonable. It is truly not fully certain whether Antony understood them himself. He only knew that whereas it would be possible, though difficult, for him to remain in the neighbourhood of the d.u.c.h.essa as Michael Field, gardener, to remain as Antony Gray, gentleman, appeared to him to be impossible; though precisely why it should be, he could not well have explained to himself.

”I should prefer to decline the offer,” replied Antony quietly.

Nicholas's face fell. He was blankly disappointed, as blankly disappointed as a child at the sudden frustration of some cherished scheme. In twenty minutes Spencer Curtis, agent, would be blandly entering the library, and there would be no _coup de theatre_, such as Nicholas had pictured, to confront him.

”May I ask the reason for your refusal?” questioned Nicholas, his utter disappointment lending a flat hardness to his voice.

Antony shrugged his shoulders.

”Merely that I prefer to refuse,” he answered.

Nicholas's mouth set in grim lines. His temper, never a very equable commodity, got the better of his diplomacy.

”It is always possible for me to alter my will,” he remarked suavely.

Antony flashed round on him.

”For G.o.d's sake alter it, then,” he cried. ”The most fool thing I ever did in my life was to fall in with your mad scheme. Write to your solicitors at once.” He made for the door.

”Stop,” said Nicholas.

Antony halted on the threshold. He was furious at the situation.

”I have no intention of altering my will,” said Nicholas, ”I should like you clearly to understand that. I intend to abide by my part of the contract whether you do or do not now see fit to abide by your own.”

Antony hesitated. The statement had taken him somewhat by surprise.

”What do you mean?” he demanded.

”Precisely what I say,” retorted Nicholas. ”I have made you my heir, and I have no intention of revoking that decision. You agreed to work for me for a year. You can break your contract if you choose. I shall not break mine.”

”I can refuse the inheritance,” said Antony.

Nicholas laughed. ”If you choose to s.h.i.+rk responsibility and see the tenants remain the victims of Curtis's tenderness, you can do so. You have had experience of his ideas of fair play, and let me tell you that your experience has been of a remarkably mild order.”

”You can choose another agent,” said Antony shortly.

”I can,” said Nicholas, with emphasis on the first word. ”But I fancy William Gateley will find a twin to Curtis on my demise if you refuse the inheritance.”

Once more Antony hesitated.

”Find another heir, then,” he announced after a moment.

Nicholas shook his head. ”You hardly encourage me to do so. My present failure appears so palpable, I am not very likely to make a second attempt in that direction.”

Again there was a silence. Antony moved further back into the room.

”You rather force my hand,” he said coldly.

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