These Old Shades Read online

  ‘What are we to do?’ asked Léonie, with pale cheeks.

  ‘What, not afraid, are you? Damn it, he can’t walk off with you under my very nose!’

  ‘Oh, he can, Rupert, he can! You are so weak you cannot help me!’

  Rupert made an effort to hoist himself up, and failed dismally. He lay fuming.

  ‘Well, damme, I can fire!’

  ‘But we have no gun!’ objected Léonie. ‘At any moment he may come, and these people will never be able to keep him out.’

  ‘Pistol, child, pistol! Lord, what will you say next? Of course we have one! D’ye take me for a fool? Feel in the pockets of my coat.’

  Léonie jumped down from the bed, and dragged my lord’s coat from the chair. She produced Mr Fletcher’s unwieldy pistol from one of its pockets, and brandished it gleefully.

  ‘Rupert, you are very clever! Now we can kill that pig-person!’

  ‘Hi, put it down!’ commanded Rupert in some alarm. ‘You know naught of pistols, and we’ll have an accident if you fiddle with it! The thing’s loaded and cocked!’

  ‘I do know about pistols!’ said Léonie indignantly. ‘You point it, so! And pull this thing.’

  ‘For God’s sake, put it down!’ cried Rupert. ‘You’re levelling the damned thing at me, silly chit! Put it on the table beside me, and find my purse. It’s in my breeches pocket.’

  Léonie laid the pistol down reluctantly, and rummaged anew for the purse.

  ‘How much have we?’ Rupert asked.

  Léonie emptied the guineas on to the bed. Three rolled on to the floor, and one dropped into Rupert’s broth with a splash.

  ‘’Pon my soul, you are a careless minx!’ said Rupert, fishing for the coin in his bowl. ‘There’s another gone now, under the bed!’

  Léonie dived after the errant guineas, retrieved them, and sat down on the bed to count them.

  ‘One, two, four, six, and a louis – oh, and another guinea, and three sous, and –’

  ‘That’s not the way! Here, give ’em to me! There’s another gone under the bed, burn it!’

  Léonie was grovelling under the bed in search of the coin when they heard the clatter of wheels outside.

  ‘What’s that?’ said Rupert sharply. ‘Quick! To the window!’

  Léonie extricated herself with difficulty, and ran to the window.

  ‘Rupert, ’tis he! Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, what are we to do?’

  ‘Can you see him?’ Rupert demanded.

  ‘No, but there is a coach, and the horses are steaming! Oh listen, Rupert!’

  Voices were heard below, expostulating. Evidently Madame was guarding the staircase.

  ‘Saint-Vire, I’ll bet a monkey!’ said Rupert. ‘Where’s that pistol? Plague take this broth!’ He threw the bowl and the rest of its contents on to the floor, settled his wig straight, and reached out a hand for the pistol, a very grim look on his drawn young face.

  Léonie darted forward and seized the weapon.

  ‘You are not enough strong!’ she said urgently. ‘See, you have exhausted yourself already! Leave me! I will shoot him dead!’

  ‘Here, no, I say!’ expostulated Rupert. ‘You’ll blow him to smithereens! Give it to me! Fiend seize it, do as I say!’

  The commotion below had subsided a little, and footsteps could be heard mounting the stairs.

  ‘Give that pistol to me, and get you to the other side of the bed,’ ordered Rupert. ‘By Gad, we’ll see some sport now! Come here !’

  Léonie had backed to the window, and stood with the pistol levelled at the door, her finger crooked about the trigger. Her mouth was shut hard, and her eyes blazed. Rupert struggled impatiently to rise.

  ‘For God’s sake, give it to me! We don’t want to kill the fellow!’

  ‘Yes, we do,’ said Léonie. ‘He gave me an evil drug.’

  The door opened.

  ‘If you come one step into the room I will shoot you dead!’ said Léonie clearly.

  ‘And I thought that you would be pleased to see me, ma fille,’ said a soft, drawling voice. ‘I beg you will not shoot me dead.’ Great-coated, booted and spurred, not a hair of his elegant wig out of place, his Grace of Avon stood upon the threshold, quizzing glass raised, a faint smile curling his thin lips.

  Rupert gave a shout of laughter, and collapsed on to his pillows.

  ‘Thunder and turf, but I never thought I’d live to be thankful for the sight of you, Justin!’ he gasped. ‘Stap me if I did!’

  Twenty

  His Grace of Avon Takes Command of the Game

  The colour came flooding back to Léonie’s cheeks. ‘Monseigneur!’ she gasped, and flew across the room towards him, laughing and crying at once. ‘Oh, Monseigneur, you have come, you have come!’ She landed breathless in his arms, and clung to him.

  ‘Why, ma fille !’ said his Grace gently. ‘What is all this? Did you doubt I should come?’

  ‘Take that pistol from her,’ recommended Rupert faintly, but with a smile.

  The pistol was pressed to his Grace’s heart. He removed it from Léonie’s clutch, and pocketed it. He looked down at the curly head with a curious smile, and presently stroked it.

  ‘My dear infant, you must not cry. Come, it is in very truth Monseigneur! There is nothing to frighten you.’

  ‘Oh, I am n-not frightened !’ said Léonie. ‘I am so very glad!’

  ‘Then I beg you will signify your gladness in a more becoming manner. May I ask what you are doing in those clothes?’

  Leonie kissed his hand, and mopped her eyes.

  ‘I like them, Monseigneur,’ she said, with a twinkle.

  ‘I doubt it not.’ Avon went past her to the bed, and bent over it, laying a cool white hand over Rupert’s galloping pulse. ‘You are hurt, boy?’

  Rupert managed to smile.

  ‘It’s naught. A hole in my shoulder, plague take it!’

  His Grace produced a flask from one pocket, and put it to Rupert’s lips. Rupert drank, and the blue shade went from about his mouth.

  ‘I believe I have to thank you,’ said the Duke, and removed a pillow. ‘You did well, my child. In fact, you have surprised me. I am in your debt.’

  Rupert flushed.

  ‘Pooh, ’twas nothing! I did precious little. ’Twas Léonie got us off. ’Fore Gad, I’m devilish pleased to see you, Justin!’

  ‘Yes, so you remarked.’ His Grace put up his quizzing glass and eyed the coins that lay scattered over the bed. ‘What, may I ask, is all this wealth?’

  ‘Oh, that’s our money, Monseigneur!’ said Léonie. ‘We were counting it when you came.’

  ‘Our money!’ ejaculated Rupert. ‘That’s rich, ’pon my soul it is! There’s some on the floor still.’

  ‘And what,’ said his Grace, turning to the broken bowl, ‘is this?’

  ‘Rupert did it,’ said Léonie. ‘It is his broth, but when we heard you coming he threw it on the floor.’

  ‘My appearance seems to have produced a strange effect upon you,’ remarked his Grace. ‘Can either of you tell me where is my very dear friend Saint-Vire?’

  Rupert struggled up on his elbow.

  ‘Tare an’ ouns, how did you know ’twas he?’

  His Grace put him back on his pillows.

  ‘It is my business always to know, Rupert.’

  ‘Well, I always swore you were at the bottom of it! But how the deuce did you find out that he’d got Léonie? Where were you? How did you guess I was after them?’

  ‘Yes, and how did you know where to find us?’ asked Léonie. ‘Why did he take me?’

  The Duke took off his great-coat, and smoothed a wrinkle from the velvet sleeve beneath.

  ‘You bewilder me, my children. One question at a time, I beg of you.’

  ‘How did you know who had run off with Léonie?’

  The Duke sat down by the bed, and snapped his fingers to Léonie, who came at once to sit at his feet.

  ‘It was really quite simple,’ he said.

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