CAPTAIN BARTON’S PLAN
Captain Barton did not go to bed early that night. He strode up and
down the road excitedly, smoking a big cigar. So this was what the
Hon. Iris Dearn had come to, the girl he loved, the girl who might
have married the highest noble in England--sly meetings in lanes
with--a groom! His strides grew longer and more savage. What power the
confounded beggar had over her to make her sink so low! And, of course,
he would make full use of that influence. He would marry her presently,
unless things were stopped immediately. But how was this to be done? If
only he could have summoned Lady Dearn and had her as his ally now! But
even if he cabled the following day it would take at least five weeks
before she could arrive, and much could happen in that time.
He kicked a stone lying on the road, viciously. If only he could
go to Rees and deal with him as he deserved. The hand on his cane
tightened. But what was the use? It would perhaps only make Iris hate
him, and--deep down in Ralph’s shallow, enraged heart there were grave
doubts as to whether he really could mete out justice in that form to
the driver. He had the advantage in size, certainly; all the same he
did not quite relish the task of attacking Rees.
But how in the world was he to save his childhood’s companion? He
could not stand by and see her life ruined; besides, it was so beastly
humiliating to be beaten, knocked clean out of the running, by a common
groom! He bit his cigar fiercely. What could be done? What a fool
Amy had been to allow a thing like this to go to such a length. She
could so easily have taken Iris away when the first dangerous symptoms
appeared. She was not fit to be a chaperone; he would inform Lady
Dearn clearly on that point. But how was he to deal with this complex
situation? He had felt deeply concerned when Iris had spoken so plainly
to him the other afternoon. He had realised how far-reaching the
fellow’s influence must be, but even then he had not supposed it could
have come to real love-making between them. He thought he might have
saved it from ripening into that. But now the thing looked as if it had
already done so.
If only he could find some weapon against Rees, something
discreditable, some secret fault in this posing hero! But so far he had
been unable to do so, and, till evidences were forthcoming, how was he
to act? Iris had definitely refused to leave the place and go touring.
So there seemed only one course open to him at present--to try and keep
the girl out of the driver’s way as much as possible and write to Lady
Dearn by the next mail and tell her to come out at once. Of course he
could cable, but on second thoughts decided he would not do that. It
would be impossible to explain a situation like this in a wire. No, he
must write, and in the meantime do all in his power to keep Iris away
from the man who held such sway over her.
Another course presented itself to him: he would tell Iris that he
loved her and implore her to become his wife. Perhaps, after all, her
attachment to Rees was only a love of romance. Iris was so accustomed
to be made love to that perhaps she had found it irksome to be without
an admirer, and for want of a better man had accepted the driver’s
homage. Yes, in all probability this was the only reason for the
intimacy. Now he would step in and make open love to her, and tell her
frankly he had come out to win her. He would pour his ardent affection
upon her and show her how vastly superior his love was to the driver’s.
Women were often turned from one man to another; he had noticed that
many times, and the most ardent man generally won. But it was difficult
to let himself go under Amy’s unromantic eye and she rarely left Iris
with him for any length of time. She had really done her duty as a
chaperone where he was concerned--a thousand pities she had not been
equally conscientious in the other direction! But, of course, Amy could
never have given a thought to the possibility of an intimacy springing
up between her cousin and a groom. She could not be expected to be
prepared for such a preposterous emergency; only, when she did see
danger signals, as, of course, she must have done, she ought to have
taken Iris away immediately.
But how was he to get Iris away by herself so that he would have
plenty of time to tell her of his love?
Suddenly an idea dawned upon his not too quick intelligence. He would
arrange a trip to the mountains with Amy and Iris. Of course, it would
be a little difficult to persuade them to go without the guide, but he
would tell them of all his mountaineering exploits, and they would soon
be willing to trust him. If he could arrange the trip for the following
day circumstances would play into his hands, for he remembered hearing
Miss Smith telling Amy that Rees was taking a big party to a waterfall
many miles away, and that they were starting early in the morning.
That would be his opportunity to go without the guide--he would be
elsewhere and not available. Yes, he must arrange it for the following
day, and once they were on the way he could easily manage the rest. The
mountains were extremely steep, and Amy, who was too stout to climb,
always avoided it; she would wait in the car while they went to the
top of the ridge. He would take the chauffeur up with them, so that
Amy would not think he and Iris were by themselves--he had a feeling
that Amy objected to his being alone with the girl. Of course, as soon
as they had climbed a little way he would send the man ahead and then
he would have the chance he desired; and he would make full use of it,
too! His steps slackened. His rage died down. His chances would come
to-morrow, and he would at least make such an impression on Iris that
she would be willing to listen to him again.
Girls had always liked him. He was a fine, good-looking chap; he had
often been told so and his own mirror corroborated the fact. His hand
moved up to his perfectly shaved, dented chin--girls liked dimpled
chins, he had noticed. Iris might not be so hard to win after all,
once he came into the open and showed her his real intentions. He had
hidden too much in the trench of their childhood’s friendship. Now he
would come out from that and declare himself her lover. This would at
once put a different tone to the relationship between them. He had been
foolish not to do so long before. But surely it was not too late yet.
What chances could a common driver have against a man like himself!
Captain Barton walked back to the house, calm and content. He had
solved the difficulty, after all. Women loved fervour--he could be
fervent; experience had proved that. He would begin to-morrow, and even
if Iris did not respond straight away--he hardly expected this--he
would make an impression, and as the days went by it would deepen,
until gradually--she would succumb. Women could never resist real
ardour! He made his way to his room, pacified, and in a hopeful frame
of mind.
He was blissfully ignorant of the fact that ardent love-making by
the wrong man would be most trying and repellent to a girl of Iris’s
temperament. But Captain Barton slept the peaceful slumber of a man who
thinks he is on the road to victory. It was characteristic of him that
never once had his fervid devotion kept him awake for more than ten
minutes after he put his head on the pillow.