 Chapter 26 My Lord Rides to Frustrate His Grace, Part I of Black Moth by George A. Tyre. My Lord yawned most prodigiously and let fall the spectator. His eyes roved towards the clock and noted with disgust that the hands pointed to half after five. He sighed and picked up the rambler. His host and hostess were visiting some miles distant and were not likely to be back until late. So my Lord had a long and dull evening in front of him, which he relished not at all. Lady O'Hara had tried to induce him to accompany them, promising that he would meet no one he knew, but he had for once been prudent and refused steadfastly. So my lady, after pouting crossly at him and assuring him that he was by far the most obstinate and disagreeable man that she had ever come across, not accepting her husband, who to be sure had been quite prodigiously annoying all day, relented, told him she understood perfectly and even offered to kiss him to make up for her monstrous ill-humour. Jack accepted the offer promptly, waved farewell to her from the porch, and returned to the empty drawing-room to wile away the time with two numbers of the spectator and his own thoughts till dinner, which was to be later than usual today on account of an attack of vapours which had seized the cook. His thoughts were too unpleasant to be dwelt on. Everything in his world seemed to have gone awry. So he occupied himself with what seemed to him a peculiarly uninteresting number of the spectator. The sun had almost disappeared, and very soon it became too dark to read. No candles having been brought as yet, my lord very unromantically, went to sleep in his chair. Whether he would have eventually snored is not known, for not more than a quarter of an hour afterwards the butler roused him with the magic words, "'Dinner is served, sir.' Car stares turned his head lazily. What's that you say, James? Dinner is served, sir,' repeated the man, and held the door wide for him to pass out. Faith! I'm glad to hear it. My lord rose leisurely and pulled his cravat more precisely into position. Although he was to be alone, he gave his costume a touch here and there, and flicked a speck of dust from one great cuff with his elegant lace handkerchief. He strolled across the old paneled hall to the dining-room and sat down at the table. The curtains were drawn across the windows, and clusters of candles and graceful silver holders were arranged on the table, shedding a warm light on the white damask and the shining covers. The footman presented a fish, and my lord permitted a little to be put on his plate. The butler desired to know if Mr. Carr would drink clare or burgundy or ale. Mr. Carr would drink clare. A sirloin of beef next made its appearance and went away considerably smaller. Then, before my lord was spread an array of dishes, partridges flanked one end, a pasty stood next, a cream, two chickens, a duck, and a ham of noble proportions. My lord went gently through. The butler desired to know if Mr. Carr would drink a glass of burgundy. He exhibited a dusty bottle. My lord considered it through his eyeglass and decided in favour. He sipped reflectively and waved the ham away. Meat-meats appeared before him and a soup, while plump pigeons were uncovered at Selbo. One was whipped deftly onto his plate, and as he took up his knife and fork to carve it, a great scuffling sounded without, angry voices being raised in expostulation, and above all a breathless, insistent appeal for Mr. Carr or Sir Miles. My lord laid down the knife and fork and came to his feet. It appears I am demanded, he said, and went to the door. It was opened for him at once, and he stepped out into the hall to find Mr. Bolley trying to dodge the younger footman, who was refusing to let him pass. At the side of Carstairs he stepped back respectfully. Mr. Bolley, hot, distraught, breathless, fell upon my lord. Thank God you are here, sir," he cried. Carstairs observed him with some surprise. Mr. Bolley had been so very frigid when last they had met. I am glad to be at your service, sir, he bowed. You have commands for me? We are in terrible trouble, almost moaned the other. Betty bad me come to find you, or failing you, Sir Miles, for none other can help us. Carstairs' glance grew sharper. Trouble? Not—but I forget my manners. We shall talk more at ease in here. He led Mr. Bolley into the morning-room. Bolley thrust a paper into his hands. Diana went riding this afternoon, and only her horse returned, with this attached to the pommel. Read it, sir, read it. Diana! Carstairs strode over to the light, and devoured the contents of the single sheet, with eager eyes. They were not long, and they were very much to the point. Mr. Bolley may happily recall to mind a certain Mr. Everard of Bath, whose addresses to Miss Bolley were cruelly repulsed. He regrets having now to take the matter into his own hands, and trust to further his acquaintance with Mr. Bolley at some future date, when Miss Bolley shall, he trusts, have become Mrs. Everard. Jack crumpled the paper furiously in his hand, grinding out a startling oath. Insolent cur! Yes, yes, sir, but what will that avail my daughter? I have come straight to you, for my sister is convinced you know this, Everard, and can tell me where to seek them. Carstairs clapped a hand on his shoulder. Never fear, Mr. Bolley. I pledge you my word she shall be found this very night. You know where he has taken her, you do? You are sure? Back to his earth I'll lay my life, till ever is custom. He strode to the door, flung it wide, and shot clear, crisp directions at the footman. See to it that my marriage saddled in ten minutes, and blew devil harness to your master's curicle. Don't stand staring, go, and send Salter to me. The footman scuttled away, pausing only to inform my lord that Salter was not in. Carstairs remembered that he had given Jim leave to visit his marry at Fittering, and crushed out another oath. He sprang up the stairs, Mr. Bolley following breathlessly. In his room, struggling with his boots, he put a few questions. Mr. Bolley related the whole tale, dwelling mournfully on the excellent references for Harper he had received from Sir Hugh Grandison. Jack hauled at his second boot. Tracey himself, of course, he fumed, adjusting his spurs. Pray, Mr. Carr, who is this scoundrel, and is it true that you know him? And over, answered Jack from the depths of the guarder-robe, damn the fellow, where has he put my cloak? This to the absent Jim, and not to the Duke. And over, not—surely not the Duke, cried Mr. Bolley. I know of none other—at last! He emerged, and tossed a heavy, many-caped coat onto the bed. Now, sir, your attention for one moment. He was buckling on his sword as he spoke, and not looking at the other man. Tracey will have borne die, Miss Bolley off to Andorra Court, seven miles beyond Wynchham to the south-west. Your horse, I take, it is not fresh—he knew Mr. Bolley's horse. I have ordered the curicle for you. I will ride on it once by shortcuts, for there is not a moment to be lost. The Duke of Andover—interrupted Mr. Bolley—the Duke of Andover. Why, do you think he purposes to marry my daughter? Jack gave a short, furious laugh. I, as he married all the others—Mr. Bolley winced. Sir, pray, why should you say so? I perceive you do not know his grace. Perchance you have heard of Devil Belmenois? Then the little man paled. Good God, Mr. Bolley, tis not he. Car-stairs caught up his hat and whip. I, Mr. Bolley, tis indeed he. Now perhaps you appreciate the necessity for haste. Mr. Bolley's eyes were open at last. For God's sake, Mr. Carr, after them. Tis what I intend, sir. You will follow as swiftly as possible? Yes, yes, but do not wait for anything. Can you reach Andover in time? I reach Andover to-night, was the grim answer. And you, sir, you know the road? I will find out. Only go, Mr. Carr, do not waste time. I implore you. CHAPTER XXVI. MY LORD RIDES TO FRESHTRAIGHT HIS GRACE. PART II. OF BLACKMOTH BY GEORGET HIRE. Jack struggled into his riding-coat, clapped his hat onto his head, and with his grace of Andover's sword tucked beneath his arm went down the stairs three and four at a time, and hurried out onto the drive, where the groom stood waiting with Jenny's bridle over his arm. Carr stares cast a hasty glance at the girths and sprang up. The mare sidled and fidgeted, fretting to be gone, but was held in with a hand of iron while her master spoke to the groom. You must drive Mr. Bolley to Andover Court as fast as you can. It is a matter of life and death. You know the way? The amazed groom collected his wits with difficulty. Roughly, sir. That will do, Mr. Bolley will know. Drive your damnedest man. Sir Miles won't mind. You understand? Jack's word was the law in the O'Hara household. Yes, sir, answered the man, and touched his hat. On the word he saw the beautiful straining mare leap forward, and the next instant both horse and rider were swallowed in the gloom. While I'm darned, exploded the groom and turned to fetch the curicle. Across the stretch of moorland went Jack at a gallop, Jenny speeding under him like the wind, and seeming to catch something of her master's excitement. Low over her neck he bent, holding the duke's sword across his saddle-bows with one hand and with the other guiding her. So he covered some three miles. He reigned in then and forced her to canter, saving her strength for the long distance ahead of them. She was in splendid condition, gloring in the unrestrained gallop across the turf, and although she was too well mannered to pull on the rain, car-stairs could see by the eager twitching of her ears how she longed to be gone over the ground. He spoke soothingly to her and guided her onto the very lane where Diana had ridden that afternoon. She fell into a long, easy stride that seemed to eat up the ground. Now they were off the lane, riding over a field to join another road leading west. A hedge cut them off, but the mare gathered her legs beneath her and soared over, alighting as gracefully as a bird and skimming on up the road. Her responsive ears flickered as he praised her and pulled her up. Easy now, Jenny, easy. She was trembling with excitement, but she yielded to his will and trotted quietly for perhaps another half-hour. Car-stairs rose and fell rhythmically in the saddle, taking care to keep his spurred heels from her glossy sides. He guessed the time to be about seven o'clock, and his brows drew together worriedly. Jenny was made of steel and lightning, but would she manage it? He had never tested her powers as he was about to now, and he dared not allow her much breathing space. Every minute was precious if he were to reach Andover before it was too late. Assuming that Tracy had captured Diana at four or thereabouts, he reckoned that it should take the heavy coach four hours or more to reach Andover. Jenny might manage it in two-and-a-half hours, allowing for shortcuts, in which case he ought to arrive not long after the others. He was tortured by the thought of Diana at the mercy of a man of Tracy's caliber, Diana in terror, Diana despairing. Unconsciously he pressed his knees against the smooth flank, and once more Jenny fell into that long, swift stride. She seemed to glide over the ground with never a jar or a stumble. Car-stairs was careful not to irk her in any way, only keeping a guiding, restraining hand on the rain, and for the rest letting her go as she willed. On and on they sped, as the time lagged by, sometimes through leafy lanes, at others over fields and rough tracks. Not for nothing had car-stairs roamed this country for two years. Almost every path was familiar to him. He never took a wrong turn, never swerved, never hesitated. On and on passed sleeping villages and lonely homesteads, skirting woods, riding up hill and down dale, never slackening his hold on the rain, never taking his eyes off the road before him, except now and then to throw a glance to the side on the lookout for some hidden bypass. On the first hour a dull pain in his shoulder reminded him of his wound, still troublesome. He set his teeth and pressed on still faster. The mare caught her foot on a loose stone and stumbled. His hand held her together, the muscles standing out like ribbed steel, his voice encouraged her and he made her walk again. This time she did not fret against the restraint. He shifted the sword under his bridle hand and passed the right down her steaming neck, crooning to her softly beneath his breath. She answered with a low, throbbing whinny. She could not understand why he desired her to gallop on, braving unknown terrors in the dark. All she could know was that it was his wish. It seemed also that he was pleased with her. She would have cantered on again, but he made her walk for perhaps another five minutes, until they were come to a stretch of common he knew well. It was getting late, and he pressed her with his knee, aduring her to do her best, and urged her to a gallop, leaning right forward, the better to pierce the darkness ahead. A gorse bush loomed before them, and Jenny shyded it, redoubling her pace. With hand and voice he soothed her, and on they sped. He judged the time to be now about half past eight, and he knew that they must make the remaining miles in an hour. Even now the coach might have arrived, and beyond that he dared not think. Another half hour crept by, and he could feel the mare's breath coming in short and fast, and reigned in again, this time to a canter. He was off the moor now, on a road he remembered well, and knew himself to be not ten miles from Wincham. Five more miles as the crow flies. He knew he must give Jenny another rest, and pulled up, dismounting and going to her head. Her legs were trembling, and the sweat rolled off her satin skin. She dropped her nose into his hand, sobbingly. He rubbed her ears and patted her, as she lipped his cheek lovingly, breathing more easily. Up then again and forward once more, skimming over the ground. Leaving Wincham on his right, car stairs cut west and then northwest, on the high road now, leading to Andover, only two miles to go. Jenny stumbled again and broke into a walk. Her master tapped her shoulder and she picked up her stride again. She was almost winded and he knew it, but he had to force her onwards. She responded gallantly to his hand, although her breath came sobbingly and her great, soft eyes were blurred. At last the great iron gates were in view. He could see them through the dusk firmly shut. He pulled up and walked on, looking for a place in the hedge where Jenny might push through. CHAPTER XXVII. His grace of Andover made a sign to the footmen, and with a sinking heart Diana watched them leave the room, discreetly closing the door behind them. She affected to eat a peach, skinning it with fingers that were stiff and wooden. Tracy leaned back in his chair, surveying her through half-shed eyelids. He watched her eat her peach and rise to her feet, standing with her hand on the back of the high, carved chair. She addressed him nervously and with would-be lightness. Well, sir, I have eaten and I protest I am fatigued. Pray have the goodness to conduct me to your housekeeper. My dear, he drawled, nothing would give me greater pleasure, always supposing that I possessed one. She raised her eyebrows haughtily. I presume you have at least a maid-servant, she inquired. If I am to remain here I would retire. You shall, child, all in good time, but do not be in a hurry to deprive me of your fair company. He rose as he spoke, and taking her hand led her dumbly to a low-backed satis at the other end of the great room. If you have ought to say to me, your grace, I beg that you will reserve it until to-morrow. I am not in the humour to-night. He laughed at her. Still so cold, child. I am not like to be different, sir," his eyes glinted. You think so? I shall show you that you are wrong, my dear. You may loathe me, you may love me, but I think you will lose some of that icy indifference. Allow me to point out to you that there is a couch behind you. I perceive it, sir. Then be seated. It is not worth the while, sir. I am not staying. He advanced one step towards her, with that in his face that made her sink hurriedly on to the couch. He nodded, smiling. You are wise, Diana. Why so free with my name, sir? This with icy sweetness. Tracy flung himself down beside her, his arm over the back of the settee in the fingers of his drooping hand just touching her shoulder. It was all the girl could do to keep from screaming. She felt trapped and helpless, and her nerve was in pieces. Nay, sweet, and end to this quibbling. But think you, is it worth your while to anger me? She sat rigid and silent. I love you. I, you shudder. One day you will not do that. You call this love, your grace, she cried out between scorn and misery. Something near it, he answered impeturably. God help you, then, she shivered, thinking of one other who had loved her so differently. But like you will, was the pleasant rejoinder. But we wander from the point. It is this. You shall retire to your chamber at once, armed with the key, and you will swear to marry me to-morrow. Very white she made as if to rise. The thin fingers closed over her shoulders, forcing her to remain. No, my dear, sit still. Her self-control was slipping away from her. She struggled to be free of that hateful hand. Oh, you brute! You brute! Let me go! When you have given me your answer, sweetheart. It is no, she cried, a thousand times no. Think! I have thought. I would rather die than wed you. Very possibly. But death will not be your lot, my pretty one, heard the sinister voice in her ear. Think carefully before you answer, or it not better to marry me with all honour than to— You devil! she panted, and looked wildly around for some means of escape. The long window was open, she knew, for the curtain blew out into the room. But his grace was between it and her. You begin to think better of it, child? Remember, to-morrow will be too late. This is your chance now. In truth—he took a pinch of snuff—in truth it matters not to me whether you will be a bride or no. With a sudden movement she wrenched herself free and darted to the window. In a flash she was up and had caught her as she reached it, swinging her round to face him. Not so fast, my dear, you do not escape me so. His arm was about her waist, drawing her irresistibly towards him. Sick with fear she struck madly at the face bent close to hers. Let me go! How dare you insult me so? Oh, for God's sake, let me go! He was pressing her against him, one hand holding her wrist behind her in a grip of iron, his other arm about her shoulders. For my own sake I will keep you," he smiled, and looked gloatingly down at her beautiful agonised countenance, with its wonderful eyes gazing imploringly at him, and the sensitive mouth acquiver. For one instant he held her so, and then swiftly bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. She could neither struggle nor cry out. A deadly faintness assailed her and she could scarcely breathe. By God it is too late, he swore. You had best give in, madam, not can avail you now. And then the unexpected happened. Even as in her last desperate effort to free herself she moaned the name of him whom she deemed hundreds of miles away across the sea, a crisp voice vibrating with a species of cold fury, sounded directly behind them. You delude yourself, Belmenois," it said, with a deadly quiet. With an oath Tracey released the girl and wheeled to face the intruder. Framed by the dark curtains, drawn sword in hand, murder in his blue eyes, stood my lord. CHAPTER XXVII. Diana, almost unable to believe her eyes, dizzy with the suddenness of it all, stumbled blindly towards him, crying, Thank God! Thank God! Oh, Jack! He caught her in his arms, drawing her gently to the couch. Dear heart, you never doubted I should come. I thought you in France, she sobbed and sank down amongst the cushions. Car stares turned to meet his grace. Tracey had recovered from the first shock of surprise and was eyeing him through his quizzing-glass. This is an unexpected pleasure, my lord. He drawled with easy insolence. Diana started at the mode of address and looked up at car stares bewildered. I perceive your sword in the corner behind you, your grace, snapped Jack, and flung over to the door, twisting the key round in the lock and slipping it into his breech's pocket. To Diana he was a stranger, with no laugh in the glittering blue eyes and none of the almost finnicking politeness that usually characterized his bearing. He was very white, with lips set in a hard, straight line and his nostrils slightly expanded. His grace shrugged a careless refusal. My dear car stares, why should I fight you? he inquired, seemingly not in the least annoyed by the other's intrusion. I had anticipated that answer, your grace, so I brought this. As he spoke Jack drove the sword he held into the wood floor where it stayed, quivering. Nonchalantly Tracey took it in his hand and glanced at the hilt. His fingers tightened on it convulsively and he shot a piercing glance at Jack. I am entirely at your service, he said very smoothly and laid the sword on the table. Some of the glare died out of my lord's eyes and a little triumphant smile curved the corners of his mouth. Quickly he divested himself of his fine velvet coat, his waistcoat and his scabbard and pulled off the heavy riding-boots caked with mud. He proceeded to tuck up his ruffles, awaiting his grace's convenience. As one in a dream Diana saw the table pushed back, the paces measured and heard the ring of steel against steel. My lord opened the attack after a few moments cautious circling, lunging swiftly and recovering, even as the duke countered and delivered a lightning riposte in quant. My lord parried gracefully in tears and chuckled softly to himself. With parted lips and wide eyes the girl on the couch watched each fresh lunge. A dozen times it seemed as though car stairs must be run through, but each time by some miraculous means he regained his opposition and the duke's blade met steel. Once indeed, thrusting in court, Tracey's point, aimed too high, flashed above the other's guard and ripped the cambrick shirt at the sleeve. My lord retired his foot nimbly, parried and reposted with a straight thrust, wrist held high, before Tracey could recover his opposition. The blades clashed as a fort met foible, and my lord lunged straight at his opponent's breast. Diana shut her eyes, expecting every moment to hear the dull thud of Tracey's body as it should fall to the ground. It did not come, but instead there sounded a confused stamping and scraping of blades, and she looked again to find the duke disengaging over my lord's supple wrist and being parried with the utmost ease and dexterity. Car stairs knew that he would not be able to last long, however. His shoulder, fretted by the ride, was aching intolerably, and his wrist seemed to have lost some of its cunning. He was conscious of a singing in his head which he tried in vain to ignore, but his eyes glowed and sparkled with the light of battle and the primitive lust to kill. The duke was fencing with almost superhuman skill, moving heavily and deliberately, seemingly tireless. Car stairs, on the other hand, was swift and light as a panther, grace in every turn of his slim body. He fainted suddenly inside the arm, deceiving the parade of tears. His grace fell back apace, parrying in court, and as John, with a quick twist, changed to court also in the blades crossed, Tracy lunged forward the length of his arm, and a deep red splash stained the whiteness of my lord's sleeve at the shoulder. Diana gave a choked cry, knowing it to be the old wound, and the duke's blade came to rest upon the ground. You are satisfied? He asked coolly, but panting a little. My lord reeled slightly, controlled himself, and brushed his left hand across his eyes. On guard, was all he replied, ignoring a pleading murmur from the girl. Tracy shrugged, meeting car stairs' blade with his, and the fight went on. Tracy's eyes were almost shut, it appeared to Diana, his chin thrust forward, his teeth gripping the thin, lower lip. To her horror she saw that car stairs was breathing in gas, and that his face was ashen and hue. It was torture to her to sit so impotent, but she held herself in readiness to fly to his rescue should the need arise. Suddenly my lord fainted on both sides of the arm, and ripped open the duke's sleeve, causing a steady trickle of blood to drip down onto the floor. Tracy took no notice, but countered so deftly that John's blade wavered, and he staggered back. For an instant it seemed as though the end had come, but somehow he steadied himself, recovering his guard. Diana was on her feet now, nearly as wide as her lover, her hands pressed to her breast. She saw that John's point was no longer so purposeful, and the smile had gone from his lips. They were parted now, the upper one rigid, and a deep furrow cut into his brow. Then, startling in the stillness of the great house, came the clanging of a bell, pulled with some violence. Car stairs' white lips moved soundlessly, and Diana, guessing it to be her father, moved, clinging to the wall towards the door. A moment later along the passage came the sound of steps, a gay, boisterous voice was raised, followed by a deeper, graver one. His grace's face became devilish in its expression, but car stairs took no notice, seeming not to hear. Only he thrust, with such skill, that his grace was forced to fall back apace. The loud voices demanded to know what was toward in the locked room, and Diana, knowing that my lord was nearly spent, beat upon the panels. Quickly, quickly, she cried, break through for heaven's sake, whoever you are, to his locked. Good God, to the woman! exclaimed the voice. Listen, Dick, why, why, to the fight! Oh, be quick! implored poor Diana. And then came the deeper voice. Stand away, madam, we will burst the lock. She moved quickly aside, turning her attention once more to the duel by the window, as Andrew flung his shoulder against the stout wood. At the third blow the lock gave, the door flew wide, and Lord Andrew was precipitated into the room. And the two by the window fought on, unheating, faster and faster. Well, I'm damned, said Andrew, surveying them. He walked forward interestingly, and at the same moment caught sight of Jack's face. He stared in amazement and called to Richard. Good Lord! Here, Dick, come here! Surely it's—who is that man? Diana saw the tall gentleman, so like her lover in appearance, stepped forward to the young rake's side. The next events happened in a flash. She heard a great cry, and before she had time to know what he was doing, Richard had whipped his sword from its scabbard and had struck up the two blades. In that moment the years rolled back and, recognizing his brother, Jack gassed furiously. Damn you, Dick! Out of the way! Tracy stood leaning on his sword, watching, his breath coming in gassed, but still with that cynical smile on his lips. Richard, seeing that his brother would fly at the Duke again, closed with him, struggling to rest the rapier from his weakened grasp. You fool, John! Leave go! Leave go, I say! With a twist he had the sword in his hand and sent it spinning across the room, as, without a sound, my lord crumpled up and fell with a thud to the floor. CHAPTER XXVIII. With a smothered cry Diana flew across the room to where my lord lay in a pitiful little heap, but before her was Richard. He fell on his knees beside the still figure, feeling for the wound. Diana, on the other side, looked across at him. Tis his shoulder, sir, an old wound. Oh, he is not—he cannot be dead! Richard shook his head dumbly and gently laid bare the white shoulder. The wound was bleeding very slightly, and they bound it deftly, betwixt them, with their united handkerchiefs and an napkin seized from the table. Tis exhaustion, I take it, round Richard, his hand before the pale lips. He is breathing still. Over her shoulder Diana shot an order. One of you men, please, fetch water and cognac. At once, madam, responded Andrew promptly and hurried out. She bent once more over my lord, gazing anxiously into his face. He will live, you are sure? He must have rid all the way for malt-beaf for me. She caught her breath on a sob, pressing one lifeless hand to her lips. For you, madam? Richard looked in carefully. She blushed. Yes, he—we—I— I see, said Richard gravely. She nodded. Yes, and—and the Duke caught me and brought me here, and—and then he came and saved me. The air blowing in from the window stirred the ruffles of my lord's shirt, and blew a strand of her dark hair across Diana's face. She caught it back, and Richard stared at her with a puzzled air. Pardon me, sir, but you are so like him. I am his brother, answered Richard, shortly. Her eyes grew round with surprise. His brother, sir, I never knew Mr. Carr, had a brother. Mr.—who? asked Richard. Carr. It is not his name, is it? I heard the Duke call him car-stairs, and—my lord. He is the Earl of Wincham, answered Richard, stretching out a hand to relieve Andrew of the jug of water he was proffering. Good gracious! gasped Diana. But he said he was a high woman. Quite true, madam. True, but how ridiculous, and how like him. She sowed a handkerchief in the water, and bathed my lord's forehead. He is not coming to in the least, she said nervously. You are sure it is not—quite. He'll come round presently. You said he had ridden far. He must have, sir. I wish he were not so pale. He was staying with the O'Hara's at Maltby. But the O'Hara's? Yes, and he must have ridden from there, and his wound still so tender. Again she kissed the limp hand. Over by the window his grace, his breath recovered, was eyeing Andrew through his quizzing-glass. May I inquire what brings you here? He asked sweetly. And why you saw fit to bring the saintly Richard? I came because it suited me to do so. I never dreamed you were here. Upon my soul I did not. Where, then, did you think I was? I thought about you at all, my dear fellow. I'm not your squire. Why is Richard here? Lord, what a catechism! He is here because he brought me with him on his way to Wincham. Have you any objection? It would be useless, shrugged Tracy. Have I killed that young fool? Andrew looked over him and discussed. No, you have not. You have barely touched him, thanks be. Dear me! Why this sudden affection for car-stairs? Andrew swung round on his heel, remarking over his shoulder. He may be a cheat, but he's a damned fine fellow. By God, he nearly pinked you as I entered. He chuckled at the memory of that glorious moment. He nearly pinked me a dozen times, replied Tracy, binding his arm round more tightly. He fights like ten devils, but he was fatigued. He followed Andrew across the room and stood looking down at his unconscious foe. Diana's eyes challenged him. Stand back, your grace. You have no more to do here. He drew out his snuff-box and took a pinch. So that is how the matter lies, my dear. I did not know that. You pretend that it would have made a difference in your treatment of me? Not the slightest, child, he replied, shutting the box with a snap. It has merely come as a slight surprise to me. It seems he has the luck this round. He walked away again as another great bell-pill sounded through the house. Andrew, pouring cognac into his glass, paused, with bottle held in mid-air. Thunder and turb! We are like to be a party! Who now? He set the glass down and lunged out of the room, bottle in hand. They heard him give an astonished cry and a loud laugh, and the next moment O'Hara strode into the room, booted and spurred and enveloped in a heavy surcoat. He came swiftly upon the little group about my lord, and went down on one knee beside him. His eyes seemed to take in everyone at a glance. Then he looked across at Richard. Is he alive? Richard nodded, not meeting the hard, anxious gaze. O'Hara bent over his friend. He has been wounded. Diana answered this. Only slightly surmiles, but twice his shoulder again. He was tired after the ride. Mr. Carstairs thinks he has fainted from exhaustion. O'Hara very gently slipped one arm beneath my lord's shoulders and the other under his knees, rising with him as easily as if he were carrying a baby. He walked over to the couch, lowering his burden on to the cushions that Diana placed to receive him. He will be easier there, he said, and looked across at her. You are quite safe, child. Quite—quite—he came just in time and fought for me. She dabbed openly at her eyes. I—I love him so, Sir Miles, and now I hear that he is an Earl, she sighed. Well, child, we'll make no difference, I take it. I hope he'll make you happy. She smiled through her tears very confidently. O'Hara turned and faced Richard, who was standing a little in the rear, watching his brother's face. He met O'Hara's scathing looks squarely. Well— Not! answered the Irishman cuttingly, and walked over to where Lord Andrew was arguing hotly with his brother. Carstairs returned to my lord's side and stood looking silently down at him. Diana suddenly gave a little joyful cry. He is coming round. He moved his head. Oh, Jack, my dear one, look at me. She bent over him with eyes alight with love. My lord's eyelids flickered and opened. For a moment he stared at her. Why—Diana! She took his head between her hands and kissed him full on the mouth. Then she raised his head to look into the blue eyes. My lord's arm crept round her and held her tight against him. After a moment she disengaged herself and stood aside. Jack's eyes, still a little bewildered, fell upon his brother. He struggled up on his elbow. Am I dreaming, Dick? His voice was full of a great joy. Richard went quickly to him, trying to put him back on the cushions. My dear Jack, no, no, lie still. Lie still! cried my lord, swinging his feet to the ground. Not a bit of it. I am well enough but a trifle dizzy. How in thunder did you come here? Surely twice you who knocked up my sword. Yes? Interfering young cub, give me your arm a minute. But why do you want to get up? pleaded a soft voice in his ear. So that I can take you in my arms, sweetheart, he answered and proceeded to do so. Then his glance, wandering round the room, alighted on the heated group by the table. Andrew, vociferously indignant, tracy, cooly, sarcastic, and o'hera furious. Terran-owns! ejaculated my lord. Where did they all spring from? I don't quite know, laughed Diana. Sir Miles came a few minutes ago, and the other gentleman came with Mr. Carstairs. I, I remember him. Tizandru, a-dick. Zones, how he has grown. But what in the world are they all fighting over? Miles! Miles, I say! O'hera wheeled around, surprised. Ah-ha! You're up, are ya? He crossed to his side. Then sit down. Since you are also insistent, I will. How did you come here? O'hera went round to the back of the couch to arrange a cushion beneath the hurt shoulder, and leaned his arms upon the back, looking down with a laugh in his eyes. Faith! I roared! But how did you know? Where— Twas all on account of that young rascal David, he said, Molly fretted and fumed all the way to the Fraser's, bowing the child would be neglected, and what not, and we'd not been in the house above an hour or so. When up she jumps and says, she knows that something has happened at home, and nothing will suffice, but that I must drive her back. We arrived just as Bully was setting out. He told us the whole tale, and of course I had Blue Peter saddled in the twinkly of an eye and was off after ya. But what with taking wrong turns and me horse not happening to be made of lightning, I couldn't arrive until now. You cannot have been so long after me, said Jack, for I wasted full half an hour outside here, trying to find an opening in the hedge for Jenny to get through. She is now stalled in a shed at the bottom of the lawn with my cloak over her. I'll swear she's thirsty, too. I'll see to that, promised O'Hara. Andrew came across the room and bowed awkwardly to my lord, stammering a little. Car stares held out his hand. Lord Andy, I scarcely knew you. After a moment's hesitation Andrew took the outstretched hand and answered laughingly. But my lord had not failed to notice the hesitation, short though it had been. I beg your pardon, I had forgot, he said stiffly. Andrew sat down beside him rather red about the years. Oh, stuff that, Jack. I'm a clumsy fool, but I did not mean that. Richard stepped forward into the full light of the candles. If you will all listen to me one moment, I shall be greatly obliged," he said steadily. Lord John started forward. Dick, he cried warningly, and would have gone to him but for O'Hara's hand on his shoulder, dragging him back. I'll now, be easy, growled Miles. Let the man say it. Hold your tongue, O'Hara. Dick, wait one moment. I want to speak with you. I've never glanced at him. I'm about to tell you something that should have been told seven years ago. Once and for all, I forbid it," snapped my lord, trying to disengage himself from O'Hara's grip. Miles lent over him. See here, my boy, if you don't keep a still tongue in your head it's myself that'll be gagging you, and that's that." My lord swore at him. Diana laid a gentle end on his arm. John, please be still. Why should not Mr. Carstairs speak? You don't know what he would do, fumed Jack. In fact, Miss Bully, Sir Miles and Andrew are completely in the dark. Drawed the duke. Shall I tell the tale, Richard? CHAPTER XXVIII. IN WHICH WHAT THREATENED TO BE A TRAGEDY TURNS TO COMEDY, PART II, OF BLACKMOTH BY GEORGET HIGHER, read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Thank you. I shall not require your assistance," was the cold rejoinder. But I must ask you to be quiet, John. I will not. You must—that will do," decided O'Hara, and placed a relentless hand over his mouth. Go on, Carstairs. For the sake of Miss Bully, I will tell you that seven years ago my brother and I went to a card-party. I cheated. He took the blame. He has borne it ever since because I was too much a coward to confess. That is all I have to say. T'was for that you wanted to see me on Friday, shot out, O'Hara. Richard nodded dully. Yes, I was going to tell you then. Hmm! I'm glad you decided to play the man's part for once. With a furious oath Jack wrenched himself free and rounded on his friend. You take too much upon yourself, O'Hara. He rose unsteadily and walked to Richard's side. Dick has told you much, but not all. You none of you know the reasons we had for acting as we did. But you know him well enough to believe that it needed very strong reasons to induce him to allow me to take the blame. If any one has ought to say in the matter I shall be glad if he will say it to me, now. His eyes flashed menacingly as they swept the company and rested for an instant on O'Hara's unyielding countenance. Then he turned and held out his hand to his brother with his own peculiarly wistful smile. Can you bear to speak to me? muttered Richard with face averted. God, Dick, don't be ridiculous. He grasped the unwilling hand. You would have done the same for me. You pressed forward. Well, I can see no use in raking up old scores. After all, what does it matter? It's buried and finished. Here's my hand on it, Dick. Lord, I couldn't turn my back on the man I've lived on for years. He laughed irrepressibly and rung Richard's hand. My Lord's eyes were on O'Hara, pleading. Reluctantly the Irishman came forward. It is only fair to tell you, Richard, that I can't see eye to eye with Andrew here. However, I'm not denying that I think a good deal better of you now than I did seven years ago. Richard looked up eagerly. You never believed him guilty? O'Hara laughed. Hardly. You knew it was I? I had my suspicions, of course. I wish—oh, how I wish you had voiced them. O'Hara raised his eyebrows, and there fell a little silence. His grace of hand over broke it, coming forward in his inimitable way. He looked round the room at each member of the company. One, two, three, four, five, he counted. Andrew, tell them to lay covers for five in the dining-room. Aren't you staying? asked his brother, surprised. I have supped, replied Tracy Cooley. For a moment O'Hara's mouth twitched, and then he burst out laughing. Everyone looked at him inquiringly. Hey, God! he gasped. Oh, sink me, and I ever come across a more amusing villain! Lay covers for five! Oh, damn! Or should I have said six, continued his grace imperturbably. Am I not to have the honour of Mr. Bully's company? O'Hara checked his mirth. No, you're not. He was content to let me manage the business, and went back to Little Dean. I am sorry, bowed his grace, and turned to my Lord, who with his arm about Diana's waist was watching him arrogantly. I see how the land lies, he remarked. I congratulate you, John. I cannot help wishing that I had finished you that day in the road. Permit me to say that you fenced rather creditably. My Lord bowed stiffly. Of course, continued his grace smoothly, you also wish you had disposed of me. I sympathise. But however much you may inwardly despise and loathe me, you cannot show it, unless you choose to make yourself and me the talk of town, not forgetting Mr. Diana. Also, I abhor bad tragedy. So I trust you will remain here to-night as my guest. Uh, Andrew, pray do not omit to order bed-chamers to be prepared. Afterwards, you need never come near me again. In fact, I hope that you will not. My Lord could not entirely repress a smile. I thank your grace for your hospitality, which, I fear, he glanced down at Diana's tired face, I shall be compelled to accept. As to the rest, I agree. Like you, I dislike bad tragedy. Diana gave a tiny laugh. You are all so stiff, she said. I shall go to bed. I will take you to the stairs, then, said Jack promptly, and led her forward. She stopped as they were about to pass his grace and faced him. Tracy bowed very low. Good night, madam. Car stairs will know which room I had assigned to you. You will find a servant there. Thank you, she said steadily. I shall try to forget the happenings of this day, your grace. I see the truth in what you say. We cannot afford to let the world see that we are at enmity, lest it should talk. And I confess it freely. I find it less hard to forgive you the insults of—of today, since they brought Jack to me. And I had not been in such dire straits I might never have seen him again. In fact, bowed his grace, everything has been for the best. I would not say that, sir, she replied and went out. For a moment there was silence in the room. No one quite knew what to say. As usual, it was Tracy who came to the rescue, breaking an uncomfortable pause. I suggest we adjourn to the dining-room, he said. I gather we may have to wait some time before his lordship reappears. O'Hara, after you. One moment, replied Miles, Jack's mare's in the shed somewhere. I said I would see to her. Andrew, called his grace, when you have finished superintending the laying of supper, give orders concerning car stairs' mare. A casual ascent came from outside, and immediately afterwards Lord Andrew's voice was heard shouting instructions to someone, evidently some way off. On the whole the supper-party passed off quite smoothly. His grace was smilingly urbane, Andrew boisterous and amusing, and O'Hara bent on keeping the conversation up. Richard sat rather silent, but my lord, already deliriously happy, soon let fall his armor and joined in the talk, anxious to hear all the news of town for the last six years. O'Hara was several times hard-put to keep from laughing out loud at his thoughts. The humor of the situation struck enforceably. After fighting as grimly as these men fought, and after all that had transpired, that they should both sit down to supper as they were doing, told to him strongly. He had quite thought that my lord would incline to tragedy and refuse to stay an instant longer in the duke's house. It was not until midnight when everyone else had gone to bed that the brothers came face to face alone. The dining-room was very quiet now, and the table-board dissipated look with the remains of supper left on it. My lord stood absently playing with the long-handled punch-spoon, idly stirring the golden dregs at the bottom of the bowl. The girls shed their light full on his face, and Richard, standing opposite in the shadow, had ample opportunity of studying it. It seemed to him that he could not look long enough. Unconsciously his eyes savored every detail of the loved countenance and watched each movement of the slender hand. He found John subtly changed, but quite how he could not define. He had not aged much, and he was still the same laughter-loving jack of the old days, with just that intangible difference. O'Hara had felt it, too, a slight impenetrability, a reserve. It was my lord who broke the uncomfortable silence. As if he felt the other's eyes upon him, he looked up with his appealing whimsical smile. Double-take at Dick were as shy as two school boys. Richard did not smile, and his brother came round the table to his side. There's not to be said betwixt us two, Dick. It would be so damned unnecessary. After all, we always shared in one another's scrapes. He stood a moment with his hand on Richard's shoulder, then Richard turned to him. What you must think of me, he burst out. My God, when I realize! I know, believe me, Dick, I know just what you must have felt. But pray forget it. It's over now and buried. There was another long silence. Lord John withdrew his hand at last and perched on the edge of the table, smiling at Richard. I'd well nigh forgot that you were a middle-aged papa, a son. I, John, after you. I protest I am flattered. Lord, to think of you with a boy of your own. He laughed, twirling his eyeglass. At last Richard smiled. To think of you, an uncle, he retorted, and suddenly all vestige of stiffness had fled. Next morning Richard went on to winch him, and Diana, Jack and O'Hara travelled back to Sussex. Jack would not go home yet. He protested that he was going to be married first and would then bring home his countess. But he had several instructions to give his brother concerning the preparation of his house. The last thing he requested Richard to do was to seek out a certain city merchant, Fudbee, by name, and to rescue a clerk, Chilter, from him, bearing him off to winch him. All this he called from the coach window just before they set off. Richard led Jenny, whom he was to ride home, up to the door of the vehicle, and expostulated. But what in thunder am I to do with the man? Give him to Warburton, advised Jack flippantly. I know he needs a clerk. He always did. But perhaps he will not desire to come. You do as I tell you, laughed his brother. I shall expect to find him at winch him when I arrive. Au revoir! He drew his head in, and the coach rumbled off. CHAPTER XXIX After spending a restless night, starting at every sound, and hearing the hours strike slowly away, Lady O'Hara arose, not a whip refreshed, and considerably more ill at ease than she had been before. During the night she had imagined all sorts of impossible horrors to have befallen her husband, and if, when the reassuring light of day had come, the horrors had somewhat dispersed, enough remained to cause her an anxious morning as she alternated between the hall window and the gate. No less worried was Jim Salter. He had returned from Fittering last night to find his master and Sir Miles gone, Lady O'Hara in a state of frightened bewilderment and the house in a whorl. No one, least of all poor Molly, seemed to know exactly where the two men had gone. All she knew was that they had come back upon a scene of turmoil, with Mr. Bowley in the midst of a small crowd of excited servants. Her husband had elbowed his way through, and into his ears had Mr. Bowley poured his story. Then O'Hara seemed to catch the excitement, and she had been hurried into the house with the hasty explanation that Jack was off after Devil, who had caught Diana, and he must come to the rescue. Ten minutes after she had an alarming vision of him galloping off down the drive, his sword at his side and pistols in the saddle-holsters. The poor little lady had sent an imploring cry after him, checked almost before it had left her lips. Afterwards she wished it had never been uttered, and rather hoped that it had escaped O'Hara's ears. Salter arrived not half an hour later, and his feelings when told that his beloved master had ridden off in search of a fight may be more easily imagined than described. He was all for setting out in his wake, but her ladyship strongly vetoed the plan, declaring that Sir Miles would be rescue enough, and she was not going to be left entirely without protectors. Jim was far too respectful to point out that there were five able-bodied men, not counting himself, in the house, but as his master had left no instructions for him he capitulated. He proved not but a Job's comfort to the next day, for when my lady pessimistically premised that both car-stairs and her husband were undoubtedly hurt, he did not, as she expected he would, strive to reassure her, but gave a gloomy ascent. Whereupon she cast an indignant glance in his direction and turned her back. At four in the afternoon they were both in the hall, anxiously watching the drive. To be sure, to his monstrous late, remarked Molly, with wide apprehensive eyes. Yes, my lady. If not were missed they should have been back by now, surely? Yes, indeed, my lady. Lady O'Hara stamped her foot. Don't say yes, she cried. Jim was startled. I beg pardon, my lady. You are not to say yes. After all, they may have gone a long way. They—uh—they may be tired. Jenny may have gone lame. Anything—anything may have happened. Yes, ma—I mean, certainly your ladyship, hastily amended, Jim. In fact, I should not be surprised, and they were not hurt at all. He shook his head despondently, but luckily for him the lady failed to notice it, and continued with an airy cheerfulness. For my husband has often told me what an excellent swordsman, what your car-stairs is, and—your ladyship forgets his wound. What she might have been constrained to reply to this is not known, for at that moment came the sound of coach-wheels on the gravel. With one accord she and Salter flew to the door, and between them wrenched it open, just as a gentleman's travelling coach, pestilioned by men in gold and black, emblazoned with the wincham arms, drew up at the door. My lady was down the steps in the twinkling of an eye, almost before one of the grooms had opened the door to offer an arm to my lord. Car-stairs sprang lightly out, followed by O'Hara, seemingly none the worse for wear. Molly ran straight into her husband's arms, regardless of the servants, hugging him. Jim Salter hurried up to my lord. You are not hurt, sir," he cried. Car-stairs handed him his hat and cloak. Not to speak of, Jim, but Everard Well-Nye finished me for all that. He laughed at Jim's face of horror and turned to Molly, who having satisfied herself that her husband was quite uninjured, and had never once been in danger of his life, had come towards him, full of solicitude for his shoulder. CHAPTER XXIX LADY O'HARA TRIEMPHANT PART II OF BLACK MOTH BY GEORGET HIRE READFULLY REVOX.ORGAN TO THE PUBLIC DOMAIN Oh, my dear Jack! Miles tells me you have hurt your poor shoulder again. And pray what has been done for it. I dare not one of you great men had the wit to summon a doctor, as indeed you should have done, for whist now a sore, adjured her husband, tis but a clean scratch after all. Take him into the house and give him something to drink. I swear, tis what he needs most. Molly pouted, laughed, and complied. Over the ale Jack related the whole escapade up to the moment when he had parted from Diana at Little Dean. Then Ohara took up the tale with a delightful chuckle. Sure, Molly, you never saw anything equal to poor old bully when his daughter had told him Jack's name. Faith, he didn't know what to do at all, he was so excited. And Miss Betty, I thought, would have had the vapours, from the way she flew from die to Jack and back again, in such a state of mind as you can't imagine. Molly, who had listened with round eyes, drew a deep ecstatic breath. Then she bounced up, clapping her hands, and proclaimed that she was right after all. What will you be meaning, Alana? inquired Ohara. Praise, sir, that I not say over and over again that if I could only induce Jack to stay with us, everything would come right. Now, Myles, you know I did. I remember you said something like it once, admitted her spouse. Once, indeed, I was always sure of it. And I did coax you to stay, did I not, Jack? She appealed. You did, he agreed. You assured me that if I was churlish enough to leave, Myles would slowly sicken and pine away. She ignored her husband to bribe all the appreciation of this. Then you see, tis all owing to me that she broke off to shake Ohara and the meeting ended in riotous hilarity. When he went to change clothes, car-stairs found Jim already in his room, awaiting him. He hailed him gaily and sat down before his dressing-table. I require a very festive costume to-night, Jim. Rose velvet and cream brocade, I think. Very good, your Lordship, was the prim reply. Jack slewed round. What's that? I understand your Lordship is an earl, said poor Jim. Now, who was the tactless idiot who told you that? I had intended to break the news myself. I suppose now you know my story? Yes, my Lord. I suppose you won't be requiring my services any longer. In Heaven's name, why not? Do you wish to leave me? Wish to—no, sir, my Lord. I thought you'd maybe want a smarter valet, and not me. My Lord turned back to the mirror and withdrew the pin from his cravat. Don't be a fool. This cryptic remark seemed greatly to reassure Jim. You mean it, sir? Of course I do. I should be lost without you after all this time. Marry that nice girl at Fittering, and she shall maid my lady, for I'm to be married as soon as may be. Ice, my Lord. I'm sure I'm very glad, your Lordship. Rose, sir, with the silver lacing? I think so, Jim. And cream, a very pale cream waistcoat broidered in with rose. There is one, I know. Yes, sir, your Lordship. My Lord eyed him despondently. Ah, Jim! Yes, your Lordship. I'm sorry, but I cannot endure it. I beg pardon, my Lord. I can't have you call me your Lordship after every second word. I really cannot. Why, sir, may I still call you sir? I would much rather you did. I, sir, thank you. In the middle of tying the bow to his master's wig, Jim paused, and in the mirror a jack saw his face fall. What's amiss now? And what have you done with my patches? In that little box, sir. Yes, that one. I was just thinking, here's the hair's foot, sir, that I shall never be able to see you hold up a coach now. My Lord's driving to affix the patch in just the right spot at the corner of his mouth, tried to control his features, failed, and went off into a peel of laughter that reached O'Hara in the room across the landing, and caused him to grin delightedly. He had not heard that laugh for many a long day. CHAPTER XXXIV My very dear Tracey. So you have gone again with no farewell to your poor sister, sir. I am indeed very offended, but I understand your reason. As soon as I set my eyes on Diana I knew the truth, and recognized your dark beauty. I am monstrous grieved for you, dear. I quite love her myself, although she is very tiresomely lovely. But perhaps, as she is dark and I am fair, we shall not clash. The homecoming was prodigious exciting. Andrew was present, Dickie, of course, and me. Mrs. Fanshaugh, too, was there, for she knew Jack abroad, and a monstrous queer old man, who was vastly fidgety and overcome to see Jack. Then Sir Miles and his wife came, who I thought quite agreeable nice people, and Diana's father and aunt, rather bourgeois, but on the whole presentable. Everyone knows the truth now, but most people have been prodigious kind, and I scarce notice a difference in our reception. Dearest Dickie is gayer than he was want to be, and more darling, and I almost enjoy being a social outcast. And Diana is properly gowned, as should suit her position, but I grieve to say that she prefers to dress plainly, she will make a prodigious, elegant countess. I have promised to conduct her to my own Mantua-maker, which is very sacrificing, as I am sure you will agree. I know London will go crazy about her, and indeed, those who have already seen her, which is Avon and Falmouth, are positively foolish. I make no doubt will be very mortifying, but I suppose it must be borne. She and Jack are prodigious happy together. It is most unfashionable, but so am I happy with Dick, so there are a pair of us, and we had best set fashion. Pray, return soon, my dear Tracy, you cannot conceive how I miss you. I was surprised you went away with Mr. Fratescu. I had no notion you were so friendly. With dearest love, your sister, Lavinia. P.S. Twill interests you to hear that Miss Gunning is to marry Coventry. Tis all over town this last week. Slowly, his grace put the sheets together and handed them to Fratescu, who had just come into the room. These, for my sister, may possibly interest you, Frank. Fratescu read the letter through, and at the end folded it and handed it back in silence. Tracy laid it down on the table at his elbow. I began wrongly, he said. Yes, assented his friend. She was not that kind of girl. But having begun wrongly, I could not undo the wrong. So you made it worse, said Fratescu gently. I would have married her in all honour. In your own arrogant fashion, Tracy. As you say, in my own arrogant fashion, Frank. If I could go back a year, but where's the use? I'm not whining. Presently I shall return to England to make my bow, to the Countess of Wincham. Possibly I shall not feel one jealous qualm. One never knows. At all events I'll make that bow. You will, Frank looked sharply down at him. Nothing more, Tracy. You do not propose. Nothing more. You see, Frank, I love her. I crave your pardon. Yes, she would not take you, but she has, I think, made you. As I once told you, when love came, you would count yourself as not, and her happiness as everything. For a moment his grace was silenced, and then back came the old smile, still cynical, yet with less of a sneer in it. How very pleasant it must be, Frank, to have one's prophecies so happily verified, he purred. Allow me to felicitate you. End of Epilogue. End of Black Moth by Georgia At Hire. Read by Cibella Denton in Carrollton, Georgia, in November 2008.