The Masqueraders Read online

  ‘We did it between us, my lady, but ’twas Sir Anthony planned it. Ay, there’s a cool head to be sure! ’Deed I’ve not seen his equal with a horse, Master Robin. It’s a wizard he is.’

  ‘But tell!’ ordered my lady, striking her hands together.

  Robin’s eyes were bright and questioning. ‘Let’s have it from the start, John, if you please.’

  ‘Ay, sir. You’ve to know I was off to my lord the instant those two vultures had Miss Prue off into the coach. Well, I know a way over the fields, and I could get ahead fast enough. I came on Sir Anthony riding down here, and he had the tale out of me.’ John smiled. ‘He wouldn’t have me go to his lordship; he said ’twas his affair. That’s a man I don’t care to cross, Master Robin. He planned it we were to hold the coach up and get Miss Prue safe away. He’d be off with her to his sister, so he said, and I was to get you away this very night, sir. And so I will,’ he added, with a touch of truculence.

  ‘Never mind that.’ Robin brushed it aside. ‘Do you tell me Sir Anthony planned to waylay this coach, and make off with a captive of the Law?’

  ‘Oh, he made nothing of that, sir! We was both muffled to the eyes, and Sir Anthony had his sword out. We waited in a bit of a spinney till the coach rounded a bend in the road. Sir Anthony, he said to me, “Take them in a charge.” But there was no doing it his way. Leastways, not for me, and I thought I could ride, so I did. He had the roan under him: you’ll know the horse, sir. Great powerful quarters, and I’ll warrant you he can cover the ground. Sir Anthony was out of the spinney, and thundering straight down upon the coach before I could know what he would be at. ’Deed, and I thought myself he would spear the roan on the shaft of the coach!’

  My lady blinked. It all seemed so very unlike the indolent Sir Anthony Fanshawe.

  ‘How many men?’ demanded Robin.

  ‘Four – if you could call them such, sir. Sir Anthony swerved to the right, and I got the mare round to the left of the coach. I’d a thick ash staff, and that accounted for the coachman. Sir Anthony planned it so that the horses were all startled and plunging; the other man on the box had his hands full with them. Sir Anthony wrenched open the coach door, and out comes one of the vultures, sprawling in the road. Sir Anthony was off the roan in a trice; I brought the mare round to him, and caught his bridle. I can tie up a man quickly and neat myself, sir, as you know, but Miss Prue’s sleepy gentleman beats all, so he does! He had him bound, arms and legs, before you’d time to look round.’

  ‘I make the mountain my compliments,’ said Robin. ‘Lord, I would I had been there! What did Prue do? You won’t tell me she folded her hands.’

  ‘I will not, sir. I’d seen to it she had her sword-stick with her, and you may lay your life she made use of it. She had the point at the other man’s throat till Sir Anthony jumped in to take his pistol from him, so I heard. There was no more to it. We were off, all three of us, with Miss Prue up before Sir Anthony on the roan. We made for Easterly Woods, and ’twas there I gave the mare up to Miss Prue.’

  Robin slowly pulled off his boots again. ‘Lord!’ he said. ‘And so farewell Peter Merriot! She went willingly?’

  ‘Oh ay, she knew well enough there was no saying him nay then. He told me to bring her woman’s clothes down to my Lady Enderby’s as soon as may be. For, says he, “she’s done with this masquerade.” But first, sir, I must have you away. We’ll have a whole pack of the Watch down on us here when this is known.’

  Robin bit one finger-tip. ‘If the mountain – egad, what a man it is! – has borne Prue off there’s naught for me to do. I’ll slip away to-night.’

  John nodded. ‘Ay, but get you into your petticoats again now. I’m off to his lordship. It’s odds he’ll have something to say. I’ll take the valise my lady spoke of, to seem as though I were off to Miss Prue in prison.’

  ‘Drive the curricle,’ my lady said.

  ‘Ay, my lady. And you’ll bide here, Master Robin, till I bring word from his lordship.’

  Robin got up. ‘Don’t fear me. I make my escape when everyone’s abed. I’ll await your return safe enough.’

  He and my lady had dinner in lonely state in the big dining-room. In the character of Miss Merriot he affected to be quite overcome; my lady, when dinner was over, insisted that poor Kate should lie down in her boudoir with the hartshorn. She led poor Kate thither, and summoned fat Marthe. Fat Marthe was told that my lady did not desire her servants to sit up late. It was to be understood both she and Miss Merriot had gone early to bed. Marthe signified complete understanding, and rolled out again. My lady and Robin sat and talked over the strange events of the day, and the gilt clock on the mantelpiece ticked over the minutes.

  At ten o’clock Robin was restive, listening for John, and he began to tap an impatient foot. Why must he delay, a’God’s name? Marthe came in with hot chocolate, and the news that old Williams had at last taken himself off to bed. The house was very still. Robin went softly away to his chamber, candlestick in hand, and was shut up there for nearly an hour. It was just on eleven when he came back into my lady’s boudoir, and he was dressed in coat and breeches with shining top-boots on his feet, and a sword at his side. He went to the window, and stood looking down the moonlit road, listening.

  My lady studied his profile, and when he turned, feeling her gaze upon him, nodded and said: ‘Du vrai, my child, I like you best as a man. I do not think anyone will ever know you for the bold Miss Merriot.’

  ‘You don’t, ma’am?’ Robin glanced towards the mirror.

  ‘No, never. I do not know what makes the so great change.’ She pondered it. ‘Miss Merriot was a fair height for a lady, but Master Robin – oh, we must not call him a little man, of course!’

  ‘You spare my feelings, in fact. It may be the neckcloth, and the hair drawn back. I was careful always to affect a dégagé style as Miss Merriot.’

  ‘We-ll,’ said my lady slowly. ‘Miss Merriot was a dainty piece, but you, my child – you look to be all muscle and – je ne sais quoi.’

  ‘I have my fair share of muscle, ma’am, I believe,’ Robin said modestly.

  But my lady was right. With her petticoats he cast off all Miss Merriot’s mannerisms. Kate had a tripping step: Robin a clean, swift stride; Kate was languorous: Robin never; Kate fell into charming attitudes: Robin’s every movement was alert and decisive; Kate could adopt a melting siren’s voice: Robin’s speech was crisp, just as his eye was keen where Kate’s was languishing. The truth was he was a consummate actor, and if he played a part he became that part, heart and soul. My Lady Lowestoft had often marvelled at the perfection of his acting, the rigid attention to every little feminine detail, but she doubted whether she had ever appreciated him fully until now, when he threw off his disguise and all its attendant mannerisms.

  She was thinking of this when the sound of horses came to her ear. In another minute or two the wheels stopped by the porch.

  Robin peered through the window-pane. ‘This will be John at last. Oh lord, ma’am, it’s the old gentleman himself !’

  Marthe was evidently waiting to let in the travellers, for a few seconds later the door of the boudoir opened, and my Lord Barham walked in, point-de-vice as ever, in a scarlet riding coat under his cloak, buff small-clothes, and high top-boots.

  ‘Well, Robert!’ said my lady.

  My lord kissed her hand punctiliously, but without his usual display of rapture. A severe gaze was bent upon his son. ‘The whole of this affair,’ announced my lord in an awful voice, ‘is deplorable in the extreme. It has been botched and bungled in a manner passing my comprehension.’

  John, entering behind my lord, shut the door. ‘He’s been like this all the way down,’ he told Robin. ‘We’d ha’ been here an hour since, but that he must needs stop to change his clothes,’ he added.

  ‘It is not my habit to drive about the country in ba