IV

Later in the afternoon Miss Allonby demanded of her maid if Gerald Allonby

were within, and received a negative response. "Nothing could be better,"

said Miss Allonby. "You know that new suit of Master Gerald's, Lottrum--the

pink-and-silver? Very well; then you will do thus, and thus, and thus--"

And she poured forth a series of directions that astonished her maid not a

little.

"Law you now!" said Lottrum, "whatever--?"

"If you ask me any questions," said Dorothy, "I will discharge you on the

spot. And if you betray me, I shall probably kill you."

Lottrum said, "O Gemini!" and did as her mistress ordered.

Miss Allonby made a handsome boy, and such was her one comfort. Her mirror

showed an epicene denizen of romance,--Rosalind or Bellario, a frail

and lovely travesty of boyhood; but it is likely that the girl's heart

showed stark terror. Here was imminent no jaunt into Arden, but into the

gross jaws of even bodily destruction. Here was probable dishonor, a

guaranteeable death. She could fence well enough, thanks to many bouts with

Gerald; but when the foils were unbuttoned, there was a difference which

the girl could appreciate.

"In consequence," said Dorothy, "I had better hurry before I am still more

afraid."

V

So there came that evening, after dusk, to Mr. Francis Vanringham's

apartments, at the _Three Gudgeons_, a young spark in pink-and-silver. He

appeared startled at the sight of so much company, recovered his composure

with a gulp, and presented himself to the assembled gentlemen as Mr.

Osric Allonby, unexpectedly summoned from Cambridge, and in search of

his brother, Squire Gerald. At his step-mother's villa they had imagined

Gerald might be spending the evening with Mr. Vanringham. Mr. Osric

Allonby apologized for the intrusion; was their humble servant; and with a

profusion of _congées_ made as though to withdraw.

Mr. Vanringham lounged forward. The comedian had a vogue among the younger

men, since at all games of chance they found him untiring and tolerably

honest; and his apartments were, in effect, a gambling parlor.

Vanringham now took the boy's hand very genially. "You have somewhat the

look of your sister," he observed, after a prolonged appraisal; "though, in

nature, 'tis not expected of us trousered folk to be so beautiful. And by

your leave, you'll not quit us thus unceremoniously, Master Osric. I am by

way of being a friend of your brother's, and 'tis more than possible that

he may during the evening honor us with his presence. Will you not linger

awhile on the off-chance?" And Osric Allonby admitted he had no other

engagements.

He was in due form made known to the three gentlemen--Colonel Denstroude,

[Footnote: He and Vanringham had just been reconciled by Molly Yates'

elopement with Tom Stoach, the Colonel's footman. Garendon has a curious

anecdote concerning this lady, apropos of his notorious duel with

Denstroude, in '61.] Mr. Babington-Herle, and Sir Gresley Carne--who sat

over a bowl of punch. Sir Gresley was then permitted to conclude the

narrative which Mr. Allonby's entrance had interrupted: the evening

previous, being a little tipsy, Sir Gresley had strolled about Tunbridge in

search of recreation and, with perhaps excessive playfulness, had slapped

a passer-by, broken the fellow's nose, and gouged both thumbs into the

rascal's eyes. The young baronet conceded the introduction of these London

pastimes into the rural quiet of Tunbridge to have been an error in taste,

especially as the man proved upon inquiry to be a respectable haberdasher

and the sole dependence of four children; and having thus unfortunately

blinded the little tradesman, Sir Gresley wished to ask of the assembled

company what in their opinion was a reasonable reparation. "For I sincerely

regret the entire affair," Sir Gresley concluded, "and am desirous to

follow a course approvable by all men of honor."

"Heyho!" said Mr. Vanringham, "I'm afraid the rape of both eyes was a

trifle extreme; for by ordinary a haberdasher is neither a potato nor an

Argus, and, remembering that, even the high frivolity of brandy-and-water

should have respected his limitations."

The hands of Mr. Allonby had screened his face during the recital, "Oh, the

poor man!" he said, "I cannot bear--" And then, with swift alteration,

he tossed back his head, and laughed. "Are we gentlemen to be denied all

amusement? Sir Gresley acted quite within his privilege, and in terming him

severe you have lied, Mr. Vanringham. I repeat, sir, you have lied!"

Vanringham was on his feet within the instant, but Colonel Denstroude, who

sat beside him, laid a heavy hand upon Vanringham's arm. "'Oons, man," says

the Colonel, "infanticide is a crime."

The actor shrugged his shoulders, "Doubtless you are in the right, Mr.

Allonby," he said; "though, as you were of course going on to remark, you

express yourself somewhat obscurely. Your meaning, I take it, is that I

mayn't criticise the doings, of my guests? I stand corrected, and concede

Sir Gresley acted with commendable moderation, and that Cambridge is,

beyond question, the paramount expositor of morals and manners."

The lad stared about him: with a bewildered face. "La, will he not fight me

now?" he demanded of Colonel Denstroude,--"now, after I have called him a

liar?"

"My dear," the Colonel retorted, "he may possibly deprive you of your

nursing-bottle, or he may even birch you, but he will most assuredly not

fight you, so long as I have any say in the affair. I' cod, we are all

friends here, I hope. D'ye think Mr. Vanringham has so often enacted

Richard III. that to strangle infants is habitual with him? Fight you,

indeed! 'Sdeath and devils!" roared the Colonel, "I will cut the throat of

any man who dares to speak of fighting in this amicable company! Gi'me some

more punch," said the Colonel.

And thereupon in silence Mr. Allonby resumed his seat.

Now, to relieve the somewhat awkward tension, Mr. Vanringham cried: "So

being neighborly again, let us think no more of the recent difference in

opinion. Pay your damned haberdasher what you like, Gresley; or, rather,

let Osric here fix the remuneration. I confess to all and sundry," he

added, with a smile, "that I daren't say another word in the matter.

Frankly, I'm afraid of this youngster. He breathes fire like Ætna."

"He is a lad of spirit," said Mr. Babington-Herle, with an extreme

sobriety. "He's a lad eshtrornary spirit. Let's have game hazard."

"Agreed, good sir," said Vanringham, "and I warn you, you will find me a

daring antagonist. I had to-day an extraordinary--the usual prejudice,

my dear Herle, is, I believe, somewhat inclined to that pronunciation of

the word,--the most extraordinary windfall. I am rich, and I protest King

Croesus himself sha'n't intimidate me to-night. Come!" he cried, and he

drew from his pocket a plump purse and emptied its contents upon the table;

"come, lay your wager!"

"Hell and furies," the Colonel groaned, "there's that tomfool boy again!

Gi'me some more punch."

For Osric Allonby had risen to his feet and had swept the littered gold

and notes toward him. He stood thus, his pink-tipped fingers caressing

the money, while his eyes fixed those of Mr. Vanringham. "And the chief

priests," observed Osric Allonby, "took the silver pieces and said, 'It is

not lawful for to put them into the treasury, because it is the price of

blood.' Are they, then, fit to be touched by gentlemen, Mr.--ah, but I

forget your given name?"

Vanringham, too, had risen, his face changed. "My sponsors in baptism were

pleased to christen me Francis."

"I entreat your pardon," the boy drawled, "but I have the oddest fancies.

I had thought it was Judas." And so they stood, warily regarding each the

other, very much as strange dogs are wont to do at meeting.

"Boy is drunk," Mr. Babington-Herle explained at large, "and presents to

pitying eye of disinterested spectator most deplorable results incidental

to combination of immaturity and brandy. As to money, now, in Suetonius--"

And he launched upon a hiccough-punctuated anecdote of Vespasian, which to

record here is not convenient. "And moral of it is," Mr. Babington-Herle

perorated, "that all money is always fine thing to have. _Non olet!_

Classical scholar, by Jove! Now let's have game hazard."

Meanwhile those two had stood like statues. Vanringham seemed

half-frightened, half persuaded that this unaccountable boy spoke at

random. Talk, either way, the actor knew, was dangerous....

"I ask your forgiveness, gentlemen," said Francis Vanringham, "but I'm

suddenly ill. If you'll permit me to retire--"

"Not at all," said. Mr. Babington-Herle; "late in evening, as it is. We

will go,--Colonel and old Carne and I will go kill watchman. Persevorate

him, by Jove,--like sieve."

"I thank you," said Mr. Vanringham, withdrawing up the stairway toward his

bedroom. "I thank you. Mr. Allonby," he called, in a firmer tone, "you and

I have had some words together and you were the aggressor. Oho, I think we

may pass it over. I think--"

Below, the four gentlemen were unhooking their swords from the wall. Mr.

Allonby now smiled with cherubic sweetness. "I, too," said he, "think that

all our differences might be arranged by ten minutes' private talk." He

came back, came up the stairs. "You had left your sword," he said to Mr.

Vanringham, "but I fetched it, you see."

Vanringham stared, his lips working oddly. "I am no Siegfried," said he,

"and ordinarily my bedfellow is not cold and--deplorable defect in such

capacity!--somewhat unsympathetic steel."

"But you forget," the boy urged, "that the room is public. And see, the

hilt is set with jewels. Ah, Mr. Vanringham, let us beware how we lead

others into temptation--" The door closed behind them.