IN WHICH A SERIOUS CHARGE IS LAID AT THE CONSUL'S DOOR
Jack Carrington, Esquire, Gentleman, sat in his snug little
sitting-room, in one of the side streets of Mayfair, shortly before
seven in the evening, feeling uncommonly blue. He was, without doubt, in
a most unfortunate position. Born and bred a gentleman; educated to do
nothing, yet debarred by lack of family influence from the two
professions he might properly have entered, the army and the diplomatic
corps; with not quite enough money to support his position as a
bachelor, and no hopes of ever having any more, the outlook,
matrimonially at least, was anything but encouraging, and there was a
lady--with whose existence this narrative has no concern--who, had
fortune smiled, might now be Mrs. Carrington: a possibility which had
brought our quondam best man almost to the point of determining,
according to those false standards which are happily fast passing away
from English society, to be no longer a _gentleman_, but to go into
trade.
Such, then, was his condition when the door-bell rang, and a moment
later a card was brought to him bearing the name of Lady Scarsdale. He
looked at it, scarcely believing his eyes. How came it that she should
call on him at an hour so strikingly unconventional? It was therefore
with no little bewilderment that he gave orders to have her shown in.
When her ladyship, whom he had never seen before, entered his parlour,
he found himself face to face with a strikingly handsome woman of middle
age, dressed in semi-mourning. She accepted his outstretched hand, held
it a second, and, taking the seat he offered, said, with just a glance
in the direction of a demure little woman who followed her into the
room:
"Miss Wilkins."
Carrington bowed, and Miss Wilkins, maid or attendant, whichever she
might be, retired to the remote end of the room, and promptly immersed
herself in the only volume within reach, a French novel which Jack felt
sure she had never seen before, and would not be likely to peruse to any
great extent.
"You will naturally be surprised at my presence here this evening," said
Lady Scarsdale.
Her host bowed and smiled, to show that pleasure and gratification were
mingled; indeed, until she further declared her position he hardly knew
how he ought to feel.
Her ladyship continued:
"My object in coming is unusual; it is, in short, to request your aid
and assistance in a very extraordinary and delicate matter."
Jack bowed again, and his visitor proceeded:
"You will excuse me if I seem agitated"--she certainly did seem very
much so, if red eyes and a quivering lip meant anything--"but I have
scarcely recovered from the shock occasioned by the arrival of a
telegram received this morning from a Mr. Allingford, at whose marriage,
I think, you assisted."
"I was his best man."
"So I understand."
"Nothing wrong, I hope?"
"That you shall hear. Do you know my son, Mr. Scarsdale?"
"Only slightly."
"You may be aware that he was married yesterday." Jack nodded, and she
continued: "To a Miss Vernon, an American. You know her, I believe?"
"Quite well," replied her host. "She is a most charming woman."
"Now this Mr. Allingford telegraphs me," resumed his visitor, "from my
aunt Lady Melton's country seat, Melton Court, that he is staying there
with my son's wife, who was Miss Vernon."
"Staying there with Allingford! At Melton Court!" gasped Jack, to whom
this seemed the most improbable combination of circumstances. "But
where is her husband?"
"I regret to say," replied her ladyship, "that, as a result of the two
couples meeting each other at Basingstoke, they in some way became
separated and carried off in different trains; so that my
daughter-in-law and Mr. Allingford are now at my aunt's country place,
near Salisbury, while my son and Mrs. Allingford have gone off together
somewhere on the South Coast, and no trace can be found of them."
"But how did it happen?"
"The whole affair seems to have been the result of some deplorable
blunder or accident; but in any event it is most distressing, and I came
up at once to London, thinking you might be able to help me. But I see
from your surprise that you have heard nothing from either party."
"Not a word. But I am quite at your service."
"Thanks. You may not know that, actuated by a spirit which I cannot
admire, my son's wife and your friend each insisted on arranging the
details of their wedding trips, and keeping the matter a profound
secret, so that neither Mrs. Allingford nor my son knew their
destination."
"Yes, I have heard something of it; but I infer that you have not
honoured me by this visit without the hope that I may be able to aid
you. Pray tell me how I can be of service."
My chief desire in calling on you, Mr. Carrington, was to learn if you
had had any news of my son or his wife; but, of course, on my journey to
town I have been thinking of various expedients, and though I hesitate
to ask so great a favour from one I hardly know, you could, I think, be
of great assistance to me.
"With pleasure. Do you wish me to telegraph to Allingford, or go in
search of your son?"
"Neither. But I should be very grateful to you if you would go for me to
Melton Court; I have not myself sufficient strength for the journey
to-night; it is already late and I have no one to send. But I feel that
my daughter-in-law is in an anomalous and probably unpleasant position;
so, as I knew you to be a friend of both parties, I thought that perhaps
you would be good enough to represent me, and see what could be done
towards the solution of this unfortunate problem. My son's best man left
for the Continent immediately after the ceremony, or I would have gone
to him instead."
"There is nothing I should like better than to serve you," replied Jack,
"but, to speak frankly, I have not the honour of knowing Lady Melton."
"If you will permit me to use your desk, I will give you a line of
introduction."
Carrington bowed his consent.
"Now," she said, giving him the note, "when can you leave?"
"At once," he replied, "by the first train."
"You will, of course, act as you think best," she continued. "I am
staying at the Berkeley for to-night, and if Mabel's husband has not
rejoined her before you arrive, you had better bring her to me there
to-morrow. As you are going on my behalf you must, of course, let me
bear all expenses of the trip."
On this ground her ladyship was firm in spite of Carrington's
protestations, and they finally parted, with many expressions of
gratitude, on a mutual and highly satisfactory understanding.
As Jack employed a valet only on state occasions, he was, after a
hurried dinner, deep in his preparations for immediate departure, when,
about half-past eight, Mrs. Allingford's telegram from Winchester
arrived, which it is hardly necessary to say startled him considerably.
The news that Scarsdale was under arrest for the crime of another
person, and the fact that it lay in his power to free him, seemed to
prove without doubt that his first duty was to go to Winchester; but he
had promised Lady Scarsdale to go to Melton Court, and it was impossible
to do both that night. He was uncertain how to act, and what his
ultimate decision would have been it is difficult to say, had not an
outside influence decided matters for him. Another caller was announced.
"I'm not at home. Can't see anybody," said Carrington.
"That's not true, young man, and you've got to see me," replied a voice,
and, as the door opened, to his astonishment Aunt Eliza advanced into
the middle of the room, which was littered with his toilet articles.
"Why, Miss Cogbill!" he exclaimed, rising to greet her, "I thought you
were in Paris."
"So I should be if I hadn't been stopped at Calais by a telegram from
that good-for-nothing Consul of yours."
"Allingford. Then you know where they are?"
"Yes, and of all the fools----!"
"I've also heard from Scarsdale and Mrs. Allingford."
"You have! Where are they?"
"Winchester."
"Winchester! What are they doing there?"
"He's been arrested."
"Arrested!"
"Yes. Sit down and I'll tell you about it." Which he proceeded to do,
and also about Lady Scarsdale's visit.
"Just so," commented Aunt Eliza when he had finished. "Now what do you
propose doing next?"
"I suppose the proper thing would be to put the two couples in
communication with each other," suggested Jack.
"Well, I'm not so sure," she said. "You and I are the only ones who know
all the facts, and we must not act in a hurry. Now there's Allingford
and Mabel down at Melton Court. They'll keep till to-morrow, I guess. It
would just spoil her night's rest to know that her husband was in jail
at Winchester, and send her over to him by the first train to-morrow
morning, like as not, to weep on his neck and complicate the course of
justice. Anyway, I don't think the two couples had better meet till we
are present to soothe their ruffled feelings; for, after the mess that
the Consul's brother has got them into, I dare say that, left to
themselves, the Scarsdales and Allingfords wouldn't be real cordial to
each other. But I see you are packing up. Now where are you going?"
"I was going down to Salisbury, at Lady Scarsdale's request."
"You're needed elsewhere. You go right down to Winchester this evening,
so as you can be there when the court opens first thing to-morrow
morning, to identify my good-for-nothing nephew, liberate him, and send
him and Mrs. Allingford over to Melton Court as soon as you can. I'll be
there before you to break the news to Mabel."
"Well, you see," he said, "I've promised her ladyship."
"Never mind that; your business is to fish these young people out of
their troubles. I'll drive at once to Lady Scarsdale's hotel, and tell
her of your change of plans, and go down myself by the first train
to-morrow morning to Salisbury."
"Then," he said, closing his valise with a snap, "I shall leave at once
for Winchester."
"Good boy!" said Aunt Eliza. "It's too bad they spoiled you by making
you a gentleman; you have a first-class head for business."
"It is just what I've been thinking myself," he said ruefully.
"Have you?" cried the old lady, her face lighting up with genuine
interest. "I'm glad to hear it. You just put this matter through
successfully, and maybe it will be worth more to you than your expenses.
Now I must be off, and so must you."
"Very well. I'll put up at the George," he said, as he helped her into a
hansom.
"Right you are!" she cried, and signalled her driver to go on.
As Carrington found that he would not reach Winchester till late, he
telegraphed Mrs. Allingford that he would see her the next morning, and
that he had received news of the whereabouts of her husband and
Scarsdale's wife, who were all right and would join them on the morrow.
On his arrival he went straight to the hotel that Mrs. Allingford had
designated in her telegram, to find that that lady had retired for the
night, leaving, however, a note for him which contained full
instructions, and stated in addition that she had received his telegram,
for which she was profoundly grateful, and that he must not hesitate to
wake her if, by so doing, he could cause her to rejoin her husband one
instant sooner.
As it was by this time close upon midnight, Carrington decided to let
matters rest as they were till morning; especially as he had before he
slept to hunt up his brother at the barracks, and so insure his
attendance at court the next day. This was easily arranged; but the two
men had much to talk over, and it was nearly daybreak when Jack set out
to return to the hotel.
The shortest way back was by a cross cut through the mysterious darkness
of the cathedral close, within which he heard the voices of two men in
heated dispute, the tone of the one shrill with rage, while those of the
other proclaimed that he had been drinking.
Carrington would have passed without noticing, so intent was he on his
own affairs, had not a name which one of them pronounced arrested his
attention and caused him to stop.
"You call Robert Allingford a thief!" came the thick tones of the
intoxicated man.
"I say he stole it!" cried the shrill voice of the other.
"Call my brother a thief!" reiterated the first speaker. "He's
Consul--gentleman. Gentlemen don't steal elephants."
"I say he stole it! Right away that day! Didn't wait for me to redeem
it."
"You dare to call my brother thief!" The voice grew menacing.
"Twenty pounds he gave me--only one hundred dollars--for an elephant. I
say he's a thief----!"
Here the shrill voice died away in a gulp, and there was a sound of
blows and scuffling.
Carrington forced his way through the hedge, crying:
"Hold on! What is this about?"
At the sound of his voice the owner of elephants exclaimed: "The
bobbies!" and, disengaging himself from the other, fled down the road;
while his companion, who had started to follow him, was detained by
Jack, who recognised his captive as none other than Richard Allingford.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"Oh," said Allingford, "it's Mr. Carrington. Delighted to see you, I'm
sure. Correcting that fellow. Says brother Robert stole elephant." His
arrest had somewhat sobered him.
"Of course," said Carrington, "he didn't steal the elephant."
"Where is he?"
"Your brother?"
"Yes."
"At Melton Court, near Salisbury; but you must not go there."
"Yes, I will," replied Slippery Dick, waxing pugnacious, "Take the
elephant fellow along, too--make him eat his words. Call my brother a
thief, will he?"
"You'll do nothing of the kind," said his captor. "You're wanted here by
the police."
"What!"
"Yes. For assault and battery, and disturbing the peace. They have
arrested another man, a Mr. Scarsdale, by mistake in your place."
"I don't know anything about it. Never been here before to-night,"
protested the unregenerate one.
"Well, you must come along with me and give yourself up, or----." But
Carrington never finished the sentence; for at that moment he struck the
ground very hard, and by the time he realised that Slippery Dick had
tripped him, that personage had disappeared into the darkness, thus
justifying his sobriquet.
Jack picked himself up and struggled through the hedge; but no one was
in sight, and the dull, distant sound of flying feet seemed to indicate
that the Consul's brother was seeking fresh fields and pastures new with
uncommon celerity.