The Black Moth Read online

  ‘I know better! Can you, Master Jack, look me in the face and truthfully deny what I have said? Can you? Can you?’

  My lord sat silent.

  With a sigh, Warburton sank on to the settle once more. He was flushed, and his eyes shone, but he spoke calmly again.

  ‘Of course you cannot. I have never known you lie. You need not fear I shall betray you. I kept silence all these years for my lord’s sake, and I will not speak until you give me leave.’

  ‘Which I never shall.’

  ‘Master Jack, think better of it, I beg of you! Now that my lord is dead –’

  ‘It makes no difference.’

  ‘No difference? ’Twas not for his sake? ’Twas not because you knew how he loved Master Dick?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then ’tis Lady Lavinia –’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But –’

  My lord smiled sadly.

  ‘Ah, Warburton! And you averred you knew us through and through! For whose sake should it be but his own?’

  ‘I feared it!’ The lawyer made a hopeless gesture with his hands. ‘You will not come back?’

  ‘No, Warburton, I will not; Dick can manage my estates. I remain on the road.’

  Warburton made one last effort.

  ‘My lord!’ he cried despairingly. ‘Will you not at least think of the disgrace to the name an you be caught?’

  The shadows vanished from my lord’s eyes.

  ‘Mr Warburton, I protest you are of a morbid turn of mind! Do you know, I had not thought of so unpleasant a contingency? I swear I was not born to be hanged!’

  The lawyer would have said more, had not the entrance of a servant carrying a loaded tray, put an end to all private conversation. The man placed dishes upon the table, lighted candles, and arranged two chairs.

  ‘Dinner is served, sir,’ he said.

  My lord nodded and made a slight gesture toward the windows. Instantly the man went over to them and drew the heavy curtains across.

  My lord turned to Mr Warburton.

  ‘What say you, sir? Shall it be burgundy or claret, or do you prefer sack?’

  Warburton decided in favour of claret.

  ‘Claret, Jim,’ ordered Carstares, and rose to his feet.

  ‘I trust the drive has whetted your appetite, Warburton, for honest Chadber will be monstrous hurt an you do not justice to his capons.’

  ‘I shall endeavour to spare his feelings,’ replied the lawyer with a twinkle, and seated himself at the table.

  Whatever might be Mr Chadber’s failings, he possessed an excellent cook. Mr Warburton dined very well, beginning on a fat duck, and continuing through the many courses that constituted the meal.

  When the table was cleared, the servant gone, and the port before them, he endeavoured to guide the conversation back into the previous channels. But he reckoned without my lord, and presently found himself discussing the Pretender’s late rebellion. He sat up suddenly.

  ‘There were rumours that you were with the Prince, sir.’

  Carstares set down his glass in genuine amazement.

  ‘I?’

  ‘Indeed, yes. I do not know whence the rumour came, but it reached Wyncham. My lord said nought, but I think Mr Richard hardly credited it.’

  ‘I should hope not! Why should they think me turned rebel, pray?’

  Mr Warburton frowned.

  ‘Rebel, sir?’

  ‘Rebel, Mr Warburton. I have served under his Majesty.’

  ‘The Carstares were ever Tories, Master Jack, true to their rightful king.’

  ‘My dear Warburton, I owe nought to the Stuart princes. I was born in King George the First’s reign, and I protest I am a good Whig.’

  Warburton shook his head disapprovingly.

  ‘There has never been a Whig in the Wyncham family, sir.’

  ‘And you hope there never will be again, eh? What of Dick? Is he faithful to the Pretender?’

  ‘I think Mr Richard does not interest himself in politics, sir.’

  Carstares raised his eyebrows, and there fell a silence.

  After a minute or two Mr Warburton cleared his throat.

  ‘I – I suppose, sir – you have no idea of – er – discontinuing your – er – profession?’

  My lord gave an irrepressible little laugh.

  ‘Faith, Mr Warburton, I’ve only just begun!’

  ‘Only – But a year ago, Mr Richard –’

  ‘I held him up? Aye, but to tell the truth, sir, I’ve not done much since then!’

  ‘Then, sir, you are not – er – notorious?’

  ‘Good gad, no! Notorious, forsooth! Confess, Warburton, you thought me some heroic figure? “Gentleman Harry”, perhaps?’

  Warburton blushed.

  ‘Well, sir – I – er – wondered.’

  ‘I shall have to disappoint you, I perceive. I doubt Bow Street has never heard of me – and – to tell the truth – ’tis not an occupation which appeals vastly to my senses.’

  ‘Then why, my lord, do you continue?’

  ‘I must have some excuse for roaming the country,’ pleaded Jack. ‘I could not be idle.’

  ‘You are not – compelled to – er – rob, my lord?’

  Carstares wrinkled his brow inquiringly.

  ‘Compelled? Ah – I take your meaning. No, Warburton, I have enough for my wants – now; time was – but that is past. I rob for amusement’s sake.’

  Warburton looked steadily across at him.

  ‘I am surprised, my lord, that you, a Carstares, should find it – amusing.’

  John was silent for a moment, and when he at length spoke it was defiantly and with a bitterness most unusual in him.

  ‘The world, Mr Warburton, has not treated me so kindly that I should feel any qualms of conscience. But, an it gives you any satisfaction to know it, I will tell you that my robberies are few and far between. You spoke a little while ago of my probable – ah – fate – on Tyburn Tree. I think you need not fear to hear of that.’

  ‘I – It gives me great satisfaction, my lord, I confess,’ stammered the lawyer, and found nothing more to say. After a long pause he again produced the bulky roll of parchment and laid it down before the Earl with the apologetic murmur of:

  ‘Business, my lord!’

  Carstares descended from the clouds and eyed the packet with evident distaste. He proceeded to fill his and his companion’s glass very leisurely. That done, he heaved a lugubrious sigh, caught Mr Warburton’s eye, laughed in answer to its quizzical gleam, and broke the seal.

  ‘Since you will have it, sir – business!’

  Mr Warburton stayed the night at the Chequers and travelled back to Wyncham next day by the two o’clock coach. He played piquet and écarté with my lord all the evening, and then retired to bed, not having found an opportunity to argue his mission as he had hoped to do. Whenever he had tried to turn the conversation that way he had been gently but firmly led into safer channels, and somehow had found it impossible to get back. My lord was the gayest and most charming of companions, but talk ‘business’ he would not. He regaled the lawyer with spicy anecdotes and tales of abroad, but never once allowed Mr Warburton to speak of his home or of his brother.

  The lawyer retired to rest in a measure reassured by the other’s good spirits, but at the same time dispirited by his failure to induce Carstares to return to Wyncham.

  Next morning, although he was not up until twelve, he was before my lord, who only appeared in time for lunch, which was served as before in the oak parlour.

  He entered the room in his usual leisurely yet decided fashion and made Mr Warburton a marvellous leg. Then he bore him off to inspect his mare, Jenny, of whom he was inordinately proud. By the time they returned to the parlour luncheon was served, and Mr Wa