The Unknown Ajax Read online

  ‘Have no fear, sir!’ said Chollacombe. ‘I trust I know how to depress the pretensions of such persons who know no better than to hammer on the door of a gentleman’s residence in that ill-mannered fashion!’

  The knocker had certainly been somewhat violently plied, and the effect of this solecism on Chollacombe was all that the Major could have desired. At one moment a very shaken old man, he stiffened at the next into the personification of outraged dignity, and, with a slow and steady tread, left the room, and proceeded down the broad passage that led through an archway into the central hall.

  Hugo shut the door, and cast a swift, measuring look at Richmond, seated at the table, and resting his left arm on it. Richmond was very pale, but his eyes were alert, and he met his cousin’s searching glance with a confident smile. ‘I shall do!’ he said.

  ‘Ay, you’ll do, you scamp! Give him some more brandy, love!’ said the Major, picking up the bowl of reddened water, and setting it down on the floor beside the sofa.

  ‘I shall be foxed if I drink any more,’ Richmond warned him.

  ‘I want you to be foxed, lad – just about half-sprung! Not so drunk that you’ll say what you shouldn’t, but drunk enough to look as if you might be. That’ll be reason enough why you should stay sprawling in your chair.’ He turned his head as the door opened, and for an instant it seemed to Anthea that he stiffened. But it was only Polyphant who entered the room, with his tripping gait, and delicately dropped a maltreated sock beside the horrid pile of Richmond’s clothing. The Major said: ‘I’m more obliged to you than I can say, Polyphant. The moment the coast is clear, off with you! I don’t want you to get tangled up in this business, so stand out now – and thank you!’

  ‘Sir!’ said Polyphant, exalted by the realization that his moment was upon him, ‘any other command you may see fit to give me I shall obey with alacrity, but never, never shall it be said that a Polyphant deserted his master in his hour of need, or flinched in the face of danger!’

  ‘Well, if that’s how you feel, you can dashed well move that disgusting bowl out of my sight!’ said his master tartly.

  Nineteen

  It was not quite fifteen minutes later that the Major entered the drawing-room; and he knew before ever he opened the door that the task of prolonging the interview between his grandfather and Lieutenant Ottershaw had imposed no very severe strain upon Vincent’s ingenuity. It even seemed improbable that he had found it necessary to take any steps at all to achieve his aim, for his lordship had plainly taken instant umbrage when informed that the Lieutenant had come armed with a warrant, and was in fine fighting fettle.

  The scene was not quite what the Major had hoped it might be. It included two persons with whom he could well have dispensed: Lady Aurelia was still seated at the card-table; and Mrs Darracott, attired in a dressing-gown, was standing beside her chair, her pretty countenance flushed, and her expression one of strong indignation. Lord Darracott was also seated at the card-table, his chair pushed back a little from it, and one leg crossed over the other. Before him, very stiff, stood the Lieutenant; standing in front of the fireplace was Vincent; and a stalwart Sergeant of dragoons had taken up a discreet position in the background. His mien was one of stern stolidity, but although his appearance was formidable to the uninitiated the Major was not uninitiated, and one glance was enough to inform him that Sergeant Hoole, while doggedly determined to do his duty, was very far from sharing the Lieutenant’s conviction that he had as good a right to force his way into a nobleman’s house as into a common person’s humbler dwelling.

  The Sergeant was indeed wishing himself otherwhere. At no time (as the Major knew well) did he relish being placed at the orders of the Board of Customs; and when it came to being obliged to accompany a mere Riding-officer into the presence of a fierce old gentleman who reminded him forcibly of his own Colonel, he disliked it very much indeed, for it was quite evident to him, if not to Lieutenant Ottershaw (who was not by any means his notion of an officer), that the old lord was not one with whom it was at all safe to take what he felt increasingly sure was a gross liberty.

  The Lieutenant was not entirely at his ease either, but he was upheld by a Calvinistic sense of duty, and he was not so much awed by Lord Darracott’s manner as resentful of it. He had convinced his superiors that an application for the warrant he had exhibited to his lordship was fully justified, but the attitude of the Board had been cautious and reluctant, and he knew that a mistake on his part would lead to consequences disastrous to his career. He was determined to execute the warrant, but how to do it, if Lord Darracott remained obstinate in opposing him, was unexpectedly difficult to decide. Nor had he been prepared for the presence of two ladies, one of whom was a Roman-nosed dowager of quelling aspect, and the other his quarry’s mother.

  Mrs Darracott’s entrance had followed hard upon his own, and was due, not to any apprehension that her son might stand in need of her protection, but to her conviction that the arrival of visitors at so late an hour could only mean that Matthew Darracott had returned to his ancestral home; and since this would entail such domestic duties as the making up of his bed, and the provision of a suitable supper, she very naturally wished to assure herself, before setting all these matters in train, that it was indeed he who had arrived. When she had entered the drawing-room to find her father-in-law berating a complete stranger, she would have retreated in haste, had his lordship not caught sight of her, and commanded her to come in, and listen to what the stranger (whom he described as an insolent whipstraw) was having the infernal impudence to say about her son. She seemed at first to be quite bewildered by the charge laid at Richmond’s door, but by the time Hugo came into the room she had passed from bewilderment to sparkling indignation.

  Hugo’s entrance was a masterpiece of clumsy stealth. He opened the door cautiously, and having first looked round the edge of it, ventured to advance a few steps into the room, fixedly regarding his cousin Vincent. It was apparent to those who had observed his entrance that he wished to attract Vincent’s attention, and also that he was in a condition generally described as a little bit on the go. His appearance was not quite as neat as it might have been, and a singularly foolish smile dwelled on his lips. The Sergeant surveyed him dispassionately; his aunts, both of whom were facing towards the door, in considerable surprise; and Vincent, putting up his quizzing-glass, with languid contempt. This had the effect of making his lordship and Lieutenant Ottershaw look round, at which moment the Major sought, by dint of a wink, and a tiny jerk of his head towards the door, to convey to his cousin the information that he desired private speech with him.

  Ottershaw, instantly on the alert, watched him suspiciously; my lord, irritated by his peculiar behaviour, said impatiently: ‘Oh, it’s you, is it? Don’t stand there like a moonling! What do you want?’

  ‘Nay, I didn’t know you’d company!’ said the Major sheepishly.

  ‘I have not what you choose to call company! What the devil’s the matter with you, sir?’

  ‘Oh, there’s naught the matter!’ Hugo hastened to assure him. ‘I just wondered whether my cousin was here!’

  ‘And now that you know that I am here, in what way can I serve you?’ said Vincent, with smooth mockery.

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing of importance!’ replied Hugo unconvincingly. He then became aware of Lieutenant Ottershaw, and exclaimed: ‘Ee, lad, I didn’t see it was you! What brings you here this late?’

  ‘Unlike you, sir, I am here on a matter of considerable importance!’ replied Ottershaw curtly. ‘Perhaps you can –’

  ‘Eh, I’m sorry!’ Hugo said, conscience-stricken. ‘I shouldn’t have come cluntering in on you!’ Addressing himself to his grandfather, he added, apologetically: ‘I didn’t know there was anyone with you, sir! I’ll take myself off! Vincent lad, if you’re not throng, I’d be glad if you’d spare me a minute: got something to tell you! It’s just a private matter – nothing of