The sun, when it peeped through the blinds next morning, found Mr
Robert Ratman wide awake. His was one of those active minds which do
not waste unnecessary time in sluggish repose, but, on the contrary, do
a principal part of their most effective brain-work while other people
are asleep.
"Snug enough so far," said he to himself, turning over on his side.
"The place will suit me after all. Capital table, easy-going hostess,
charming young Bohemian to amuse me, money going about, and all that.
Teddy wants stirring up. I shall have to flick him a bit. He'll go
well enough when he's once started, but he's wasting his time here
disgracefully. Eight months since he came, and absolutely nothing done!
The boy's not buried, the mother's not married, and the tutor's not had
his month's notice, (Like to see this precious tutor, by the way.) Upon
my honour, it's about time I came and opened shop here."
And with a grunt he got out of bed, and began to array himself
preparatory to a stroll round the park before breakfast.
It was a delicious September morning. The birds, hardly convinced that
the summer was over, were singing merrily in the trees. The hum of the
not distant ocean droned solemnly in the air. The sunlight played
fitfully with the gold of the harvest fields, and the lowing cattle in
the meadows added their music to nature's peaceful morning anthem.
Mr Ratman was only half alive to the beauties of nature. He was
considerably more impressed with the substantial masonry of the manor
house, with the size of the timber, the appointments of the stables, and
the acreage of the park. They all spelt money to him--suggesting a good
deal more behind.
"Teddy's certainly a man to be looked after," said he to himself. "He's
wasting his time scandalously. Yet he's clever in his way, is Edward.
He has tucked his family into the big bed snugly, and made the most of
his chance that way. Why--"
He had reached this pleasant stage in his reflections when something
darted round from a side-walk and collided with him suddenly.
It was Miss Jill, taking an early scamper with her dog, and little
dreaming that she was not, as usual, the sole occupant of the grounds.
"Hullo! my little lady," said Mr Ratman, recognising his enemy of
yesterday; "you nearly did for me that time. Come, you'll have to tell
me you are sorry, and beg my pardon very prettily."
"No, I won't!" exclaimed Jill, and proceeded to run.
Mr Ratman was not beyond a bit of fun himself; besides, he did not
quite like to be thus set down by a child of twelve. Therefore,
although his running days had passed their prime, he gave chase, and a
very exciting race ensued.
Jill, as fleet as the wind, darted forward with little to fear from her
pursuer; while the dog, naturally regarding the whole affair as an
entertainment got up for his benefit, barked jubilantly, and did his
best to force the pace. After a minute or two Mr Ratman began to
wonder if the game was worth the candle, and was turning over in his
mind the awkward possibility of owning himself beaten, when he perceived
that the little fugitive was, by some error of judgment on her part,
leading the way into what looked uncommonly like a _cul de sac_.
Therefore, although painfully aware of the stitch in his side, he
bravely held on, and had the gratification in a minute more of running
his little victim to earth after all.
"Aha!" said he, laughing and panting; "you can't get away from me, you
see. Now, my little beauty, I'm going to take you back in custody to
the place where you started from, and make you beg my pardon very
prettily for nearly knocking me over."
In vain Jill protested and struggled; he held her by the wrist as with a
vice, and, rather enjoying her wild efforts to escape, literally
proceeded to carry his threat into execution.
He had nearly brought her back to the starting-place, and she, having
fought and struggled all the way, was beginning with humiliation to feel
her eyes growing dim with tears, when a gentleman dressed in boating
flannels, with one arm in a sling and an eye-glass in his eye, stepped
abruptly across the path.
A moment later Mr Robert Ratman lay on the grass half a dozen yards
away, on the flat of his back, blinking up at the sky.
Several curious reflections passed through his mind as he occupied this
not very exhilarating position. Jill had escaped after all. That was
annoying. He should have a black eye for a week. That was very
annoying. This left-handed individual with the eye-glass must be the
tutor. That was most excessively annoying.
And the injured gentleman, neither looking nor feeling at all well,
pulled himself together and sprang to his feet.
Jill was there, clinging to her champion. "Run away, Jill!" said
Armstrong.
"But you have only one arm," said she. "Go, Jill!" said he, so
decisively that the little maid, darting only one look behind her, fled
towards the house.
All she saw was the two men facing one another--one flurried, vicious,
and noisy; the other curious, silent, disgusted.
"You dog!" hissed Ratman, with an oath, "what do you mean by that?"
"My meaning should have been clear--it was intended to be."
Ratman tried hard to copy his adversary's composure, but failed
miserably.
With many imprecations, and, heedless of the tutor's maimed condition,
he threw himself upon him.
But Robert Ratman's boxing, like his running, was a trifle out of date,
and once more he found himself on his back regarding the clouds as they
flitted by overhead.
This time the tutor assumed the initiative.
"Get up," said he, advancing to his prostrate antagonist.
Ratman was surprised at himself when, after a moment's doubt, he obeyed.
"What's your name?" demanded Mr Armstrong, surveying him from head to
foot.
Again, by some curious mental process, Mr Ratman obeyed.
"What are you doing down here?"
"I am Captain Oliphant's guest," growled Ratman.
The tutor looked him up and down in a manner which was clearly not
calculated to imply admiration of Captain Oliphant's choice of friends.
"Allow me to tell you, sir, that in this part of the world we call men
like you blackguards."
And the tutor, whose eye-glass had become uncomfortably deranged during
this brief interview, screwed it in with a wrench, and turned on his
heel.
"Where's jolly old Ratman?" inquired Tom, when the family presently
assembled for breakfast.
"Tired with his journey, no doubt," said Mrs Ingleton.
As no one disputed this theory, and Jill's exchange of glances with her
champion passed unheeded, there seemed every prospect of the meal
passing off peaceably. But Tom, as usual, contrived to improve the
occasion in the wrong direction.
"You'll like him, Armstrong, when you see him. He's no end of a chap--
all larks. He'll make you roar with his rummy stories."
"I have met him already," said the tutor shortly.
"Then he is up. Jill, my child," said the captain, "go and knock at Mr
Ratman's door, and tell him breakfast is ready."
"I won't go near him," said Jill, flushing up. "He's a horrid, hateful
man. Isn't he, Mr Armstrong?"
Mr Armstrong, thus appealed to, looked a little uncomfortable, and
nodded.
"Yes," blurted the girl; "and if it hadn't been for Mr Armstrong,
father, he might have hurt me very much."
"Explain yourself," said the fond father, becoming interested.
"I don't want to talk about him," said Jill.
"What does all this mean, Armstrong?"
"As far as I am concerned, it means that I took the liberty of knocking
Mr Ratman down for insulting your daughter. I am sorry you were not
present to do it yourself."
Captain Oliphant turned white, and red, and black in succession.
"You knocked a visitor of mine--"
"Down twice," said the tutor, helping himself to sugar.
"Oh, what a lark!" exclaimed Tom. "Oh, I wish I'd been up too. Was it
a good mill, I say? How many rounds? Six? Why ever didn't you come
and tell me, Jill?"
"Be quiet, Tom," said Jill.
"Did you get him clean on the jaw, I say?" persisted Tom, "like the
one--"
"Hold your tongue, sir," said his father peremptorily. "Mr Armstrong,
I must ask you to explain this matter later; this is not the place for
such talk."
"Quite so. I regret the matter was referred to. Tom, be good enough to
pass Miss Oliphant the toast."
Tom could scarcely be induced to take the hint, and talked at large on
the science of boxing during the remainder of the meal with an access of
high spirits which, on any other occasion, would have been amusing.
Mr Ratman, later in the day, appeared with a decidedly marred visage,
and announced with the best grace he could that an important business
letter that morning necessitated his return to London.
In private he explained himself more fully to his host.
"If this is what you call making me comfortable," growled he, with an
unusual number of oaths interspersed in his sentence, "you've a pretty
notion of your own interests."
"My dear fellow, how could I help it?"
"You can help it now, and you'll have to. I may be only a creditor, but
I'll let you see I am not going to be treated in this house like a dog,
for all that."
"The awkward thing is that if you had behaved--"
"Shut up about how I behaved," snarled the other. "You'll have to clear
that cad out of the way here. I'll not come back till you do; and till
I do come back you're sitting on a volcano."
"My dear fellow, you will spoil everything if you take such an absurd
view of the matter--really you will. Of course I'll put you right. You
are my guest. But remember my difficult position here."
"It will be a precious deal more difficult for you soon. I can promise
you," said Mr Ratman, lifting his hand to his swollen eye with an oath.
"Now then, I'll give you a month. If you're not rid of this fellow by
then, and aren't a good deal nearer than you are now to squaring up with
me, you'll be sorry you ever heard my name."
"I'm that already," said the captain. "I can promise nothing; but I'll
do what I can."
"You'll have to do more, if you're to get rid of me. How about money?"