"Half thought I should have seen Charley Melton here; perhaps he has
started for Italy after all," said Tom, who had gone straight to
Barker's and engaged in a game of pool. "Might have stirred him up, but
he don't seem to mind it a bit. Well, no wonder, seeing how he was
treated."
"Red upon white; yellow's your player," said the marker, and Tom went up
to make the stroke required of him; then he turned once more to glance
at the table next to him, and watched two or three of the bets made.
"Past ten," he said to himself, glancing at his watch. "That's getting
back to dinner. Never mind, I'm not the party wanted by her ladyship.
Charley must have known she was to be married to-morrow. I liked him
too," he said, gazing at the players. "He's a big, strong,
noble-looking fellow. Ah, well! I suppose that's because I'm little.
One mustn't go by outside appearances. Perhaps it's all for the best."
Just then a friend proposed that they should drop in at one of the
theatres and see the new burlesque; and after a little hesitation Tom
consented to go. After this a kidney had to be eaten at a tavern; so
that it was one o'clock when he reached home, to find the lights
burning, and a cluster of servants in the hall.
"Hallo, Robbins, what's up? House on fire?" he cried, as the butler
admitted him, looking very solemn and troubled.
"No, my lord. Oh, dear no."
"Don't be an old image. What is it? Sir Grantley had a fit?"
"My young lady, my lord," said the butler in a solemn, mysterious
whisper.
"Not ill--not ill?" cried Tom, excitedly.
"No, my lord," said the butler, "not ill, but--"
"Confound you, you great pump. Speak out," cried Tom, angrily.
"Gone, my lord--been missing hours. Her ladyship has been having fit
after fit, and his lordship is 'most beside himself."
"Bolted!" exclaimed Tom; and, running into the dining-room, he threw
himself into a chair and laughed till his sides ached.
"Poor Wilters! oh, Lord, what a game! Cut!--skimmed!"
He got up, and stamped round the room in the very ecstasy of delight,
"The little smug hypocrite!" he said. "That's why she was so sanctified
and sad to-day. Well, bless her, I like her pluck. Sold, my lady,
sold!"
He suddenly woke up to the fact that he ought to go upstairs, and,
turning serious, he walked into the hall.
"Where's her ladyship, Robbins?" he asked.
"Upstairs, my lord."
"Where's Sir Grantley?"
"Went out, my lord, about ten, to find that tail, straight man, sir, as
came--Mr Hurkle."
"And he hasn't found him?"
"No, my lord, I s'pose not."
"Good job too," said Tom, shortly, and running upstairs he entered the
drawing-room so suddenly that her ladyship, who was lying upon a sofa,
being fanned by Tryphie, began to shriek.
"There, don't make that row, mother," said Tom, coarsely. "Hang it all,
what a smell of lavender!"
"Is that you, Tom?" sobbed her ladyship, as Justine came in with a
bottle of hot water to apply to her mistress' feet.
"I suppose so, unless I was changed at my birth," he said, laughing at
Tryphie, and then giving his father a free-and-easy nod. "Spirits and
water--internal and ex."
"Oh, my boy, your wicked, wicked sister!" sobbed her ladyship.
"Serve you right," said Tom.
"Such a wanton disgrace to her family."
"Of course," said Tom.
"I shall never get over it."
"Shouldn't have tried to make the poor girl marry a man that she did not
care a curse for."
"Oh, but, Tom, Tom!" sobbed Tryphie, "this is too dreadful."
"Stuff!" cried Tom. "I'll be bound to say that you were in the secret."
"Indeed, no," cried Tryphie, reproachfully. "I did not know a word. I
had left her in her room, as I thought, to dress, and when I went to
fetch her because dinner was waiting she was gone."
"Tell him, Justine, for mercy's sake tell him," wailed her ladyship.
"Yes, poor milady, I will," said the Frenchwoman. "Miss Tryphie knocked
many time, and I ascend the stairs then, and she say she begin to be
alarmed that mademoiselle was ill. We enter then togezzer, and we
find--"
"Nothing," said Tom, coolly.
"Oh, no, monsieur, all her beautiful dresses, ze trousseau magnifique,
lying about the room, but she is not there. Then I recollect that I see
somebody pass down ze stair, in a black cloak and veil, but I take no
notice then, though I think now it must have been my young lady."
"But you knew she was going," said Tom, gazing straight into her eyes,
which only shone a little brighter, for they did not shrink.
"I know, monsieur?" she replied. "I know, I come straight to tell
milady of ze outrage against ze honour of her family. _Parole
d'honneur_ no, I know nozing as ze lil _bebe_ which come not to be
born."
This was said at a tremendous pace, and with a very strong French
accent, for, as Mademoiselle Justine grew excited, so did she forget her
good English, and began to return towards the language of the land of
her birth.
"What's been done?" said Tom, shortly.
"Aunt sent directly for Mr Hurkle, and then Sir Grantley went after him
as well."
"Curse Mr Hurkle," cried Tom, and he hurried out of the room, and
dashed, two steps at a time, downstairs, and nearly tumbled over one of
the footmen, who looked quite scared.
"You're always in the way," cried Tom, savagely, and he dashed into the
library, where he found Lord Barmouth busy with trembling hands
examining a very old pair of flintlock duelling pistols.
"Hallo, dad!" cried Tom, "none of that. You're not tired of life?"
"No, no, my son," said the old gentleman; "damme, no, Tom, though it
does get very hard sometimes. Tom, my boy, I'm going to find him out
and shoot him."
Tom slammed down the lid of the case, and pushed the old gentleman
unresistingly back into an easy-chair.
"Now, look here, gov'nor, let's talk sense," he cried.
"Yes, my dear boy, I--I--I'm doosed glad you've come. We will--we
will."
"It's true then, gov'nor, that poor Maude has bolted?"
"Well, yes, my boy, I don't think there's a doubt about it."
"Then that's all your fault, gov'nor," said Tom.
"My dear boy, don't you turn upon me and bully me too. I--I--I've lost
my poor little girl, and I--I--I can't bear much. It's such a disgrace.
I know I ought to have stood up for her more, Tom, my boy, but her
ladyship is so very strong-minded, you know."
"Yes, I know," said Tom. "She was too much for both of us, gov'nor.
Well, it's no use to fret about it that I see. The little filly's taken
the bit in her teeth, topped the hedge, and away she's gone. And she so
sly over it too!"
"She was very sorry to go, Tom, I'm sure. She was in such trouble
to-day."
"Yes," said Tom, quietly, "we ought to have suspected something. How
about old Wilters?"
"He's nearly mad, my boy. He has--has--has been running round--round
the drawing-room like--like--like--"
"A cat on hot bricks, father."
"Yes, my son. He's furious--he's going to kill him."
"Yes, of course," said Tom, grinning. "I should like to see him do it."
"But--but--but, Tom, my boy, don't take it quite so coolly."
"Why not, father? Hallo? who's this, eh? Oh, of course," he said,
"here are the women now."
For her ladyship came in leaning upon Tryphie's arm, to immediately
shriek and fall back in a chair.
"Oh, Tom! oh, Tom," she cried, "I shall never survive. The disgrace--
the disgrace."
"Nonsense. Here, father, Tryphie, Maude has gone off with Charley
Melton, I suppose?"
"No, no, no!" shrieked her ladyship. "Oh, horror, horror, horror!"
"Tryphie, cork her mouth with a handkerchief, or they'll hear her across
the street. Here, father, what's the row. Charley Melton, eh?"
"No--no--no, my dear boy," stammered Lord Barmouth, "I--I--I--damme,
though her ladyship's here, I say it in her presence, I wish she had.
It's too dreadful to tell."
"My God, father!" cried Tom, excitedly, as he turned pale, and the cold
sweat stood upon his forehead, for like a flash came upon him the
recollection of his sister's words that day, and brought up such a
picture of horror before his eyes, that he trembled like a leaf. "Don't
say--don't tell me--"
He could not finish, but stood panting, and gazing at the
horror-stricken face of his mother.
"No, my boy, I won't if you don't want me to," said the old man, feebly;
"but it's--it's--such a terrible disgrace."
"Father," faltered Tom, in a hoarse whisper, "has she--has she drowned
herself?"
"Oh, no, my boy, no--no--no," cried the old man, with the tears
streaming down his cheeks. "She has eloped under disgraceful
circumstances."
"Not with one of the servants, father?" cried Tom.
"No, no, my boy, worse than that."
"Hang it, father," cried Tom, savagely, "there is no worse, without she
has gone off with a sweep."
"Yes, yes, my boy," cried the old man. "She has gone off with an
organ-grinder and a monkey!"
"Which?" roared Tom, seizing the poker; "it isn't murder to kill an
ape."
"No, no, my boy, it's the organ man. I saw him from the window
to-night. I don't think there was a monkey."
Tom threw the poker into the fire-place with a crash, and stared blankly
at his mother.
"Oh, Tom! oh, Tom!" she cried, hysterically, "the disgrace!--the
disgrace!--the disgrace!"
"I--I--I don't know what to do," cried Lord Barmouth. "I can never
stand it. It will be all the talk of the clubs. It's--it's--it's--"
"It's all damned nonsense, father!" cried Tom; "my sister isn't such a
fool."