The Toll-Gate Read online

  The Captain drew his wife a little to one side, and said in her ear: ‘Take him away, Nell, and leave me alone with your grandfather! He is very much exhausted, and the sooner he has said what he desires to say to me the better it will be.’

  She nodded, and moved away from his side, glancing significantly at Winkfield. In a very few moments, only John was left with the Squire. He returned to the big four-poster, drawing the curtains along the foot of it, to shut off the glare of the candles.

  ‘It wasn’t you I forced into it,’ Sir Peter said. ‘It was Nell. I don’t know what it is Henry has done, but it’s something damnable. The dog threatened me – threatened me! – Said if I would not give orders Coate must be treated with extraordinary civility he and I and Nell would be ruined! By God, I –’

  ‘Let me assure you, sir,’ interposed the Captain calmly, ‘that there is not the slightest danger of such a thing! Nor does Master Henry’s attempt to conjure up bogeys in any way impress me.’

  ‘What are he and Coate doing?’ demanded the Squire.

  ‘I’m not in a position to tell you that, though I have some inklings. Henry, I think, is nothing more than a tool, and I have every expectation of being able to bring him off without public scandal.’

  The Squire’s eyes narrowed. ‘You know more than you mean to tell me, eh? Coate will drag Henry into it, if there’s a discovery.’

  ‘Not if his mouth is shut, sir.’

  ‘Very likely! And, pray, how is that to be achieved?’

  ‘I think, sir,’ replied John, smiling down at him, ‘that that is something you had best leave to me.’

  One corner of the Squire’s mouth lifted a little. ‘You do, do you? Know how to do the trick?’

  ‘Yes,’ John said.

  The deep, imperturbable voice had its effect. The Squire sighed, and seemed to relax. ‘I daresay you’ll handle it,’ he said. ‘I’ve shot my bolt. But I’ve made all safe for Nell. If Henry’s disgraced us, she wouldn’t have married you, you know. Forced you into this, of course. If you disliked it –’

  ‘I did not,’ interrupted John. He bent over the bed, gently taking the old man’s hand, and holding it. ‘Indeed, I’m grateful to you, sir, and I swear to you Nell shall never have cause to regret this night’s work.’ He added, with a twinkle: ‘It was, besides, an education to see how a difficult team could be driven to an inch!’

  The Squire chuckled. ‘Ah, I was a top-sawyer in my day!’

  ‘I should describe you today as a nonpareil, sir,’ John retorted. ‘I am going to leave you now. May I beg you to think no more of your grandson’s nonsense? There is not the least need for you to tease yourself about it.’

  The waxen hand feebly returned the pressure of his fingers. ‘You came in the very nick of time, you know. Old Mops and Brooms’ grandson – ! Send Nell in to say good night to me!’

  The Captain left him with no more words. In the dressing-room he found Nell awaiting him, with Winkfield. He smiled at her, and said: ‘Go to Sir Peter, my love: he wishes to bid you good night.’

  She nodded, and went at once into the bedchamber. The Captain, closing the door behind her, said: ‘Before she comes back, tell me this! Is Mr Stornaway sick, or is he shamming it?’

  ‘He’s sick enough, sir – if you call it being sick to have caught cold! We had Dr Bacup here today, and Mr Henry desired him to go to him, which he did. He was always one to think himself dying for the least ailment, and no sooner did he start sneezing and coughing than he was persuaded he had an inflammation of the lungs. It’s no such thing, of course, but his man’s been carrying up cans of hot water for mustard foot-baths all day, and he’s eaten nothing but tea and toast, because he says his pulse is tumultuous. However, the doctor left a draught for him to take, and I don’t doubt he will be more the thing by tomorrow.’

  ‘I see.’ John was silent for a moment, frowning a little. ‘There is nothing to be gained by my seeing him tonight, then.’

  ‘Seeing him, sir?’ Winkfield repeated.

  ‘Yes, and as soon as may be possible. Not before he has left his bed, however – and I myself have certain plans to be made. Where is his room?’

  ‘In the other wing of the house, sir – his and Mr Coate’s room too,’ Winkfield answered, eyeing him wonderingly.

  ‘Can you describe to me precisely which room it is, and how it may be reached from this wing?’

  Winkfield gave a slight gasp. ‘Yes, sir, but –’

  ‘Then do so! I am coming to pay Mr Henry a visit, but since I don’t wish Coate to know of it, it will be a nocturnal one – probably tomorrow night, if I can arrange it so.’

  ‘Indeed, sir!’ said Winkfield, rather faintly. ‘Were you – were you thinking of climbing through the window?’

  ‘Your windows weren’t made for a man of my size, I’m afraid. I was rather thinking of entering by the side-door – which you would leave unlocked.’

  ‘That would undoubtedly be better, sir,’ agreed Winkfield. ‘If you were to proceed along this corridor, you would find yourself on the gallery that runs round the main staircase. Immediately opposite, is a similar corridor to this. The first door upon the right of it opens into Mr Henry’s room. Beyond it is a small spare room, and opposite to that is Mr Coate’s room, with a dressing-room beside it.’

  ‘Thank you, that’s very clear.’

  ‘If I might venture to suggest, sir – I have been sleeping here, in this room, lately, and if you were to wake me –’

  ‘I think I won’t, Winkfield. It is possible that you might not be able to attend to me, or be the only person in this room,’ John said bluntly. ‘I’m afraid the end is very near now. I’ve seen men die, and that look is in your master’s face tonight.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Winkfield said quietly, and turned away, as Nell came back into the room.

  ‘Will you go to him now, Winkfield?’ she said. ‘He is so tired, but – but wonderfully peaceful, and even in spirits!’

  The valet went into the bedchamber without a word, his face rather set. Nell looked up at John. ‘Do you think – do you think he is better, John?’

  He did not hesitate. ‘No, dearest,’ he replied gently.

  ‘I see.’ She went slowly towards him, and leaned against his shoulder as he put his arm round her. ‘I couldn’t wish it, of course. It is only that there have been just the two of us for so long.’

  ‘I know.’

  She put her hand up to touch his cheek. ‘And now there is you, and – and so much happiness in my heart that there seems to be hardly room enough for anything else. Am I really married, or is it a dream?’

  ‘You are really married, my wife. It is the strangest wedding ever two people had, but the knot was well and truly tied.’

  ‘I think, even though you would not say so, you must have disliked it very much.’

  ‘No.’ He turned her face up, and kissed her. ‘Only to be obliged to leave you, my wife. That – I do indeed dislike!’

  Fifteen

  The Captain, having stabled Beau, walked back to the toll-house across the field, and entered it by the back-door. He found Mr Babbacombe alone, seated by the fire, and sipping brandy and water. Mr Babbacombe raised a weary eyebrow, and said: ‘What, didn’t they offer you a bed? How shabby!’

  The Captain grinned at him. ‘I beg pardon! Have I been away so long? Where’s Ben? Have you murdered him?’

  ‘No, but I found him such a dead bore that I sent him to bed. Pikekeeping couldn’t be worse than playing cassino with that bird-witted boy. I only had to open the gate twice – each time to your groom-acquaintance. Happily he knew what the toll was, for I did not.’

  ‘Yes, I met Joseph on my way back,’ John said, rather absently. He poured himself out some brandy, while his friend sleepily watched him. He glanced down at Babbacombe. ‘Did Chirk come?’

  ‘I imagine he