MAJOR RUCK
"A tramp!" said Mrs. Lilly, with dignified disgust. "However did he get
in here?"
"I ain't no tramp, lydies," said the man, twisting a piece of straw in
his rabbit mouth. "I've got a 'ouse in town, an' a box in Scotlan', an'
a yatsh at Cowes, I 'ave. Blimme me, if I ain't a gent at large, and
devoted"--he bowed and leered--"to the genteel sect."
Beatrice looked at him with a shiver. He wore a suit of clothes too
large for him, a dirty red wisp round his lean throat, and carpet
slippers bound with string to his large feet. He was of no great
height, and his shock of red hair made him look even smaller. His face
was clean-shaven, or rather it ought to have been, for apparently it
had not been touched by a razor for quite a week. Twisting the straw in
his mouth, and a ragged cricketing cap in his hairy hands, he straddled
with his short legs and leered impudently. It was the animal eyes of
the man that made Beatrice shiver: they were green and shallow, like
those of a bird, and the expression in them was evil in the extreme.
The creature evidently had been steeped in iniquity from his cradle,
and the foulness of his presence marred the perfect beauty of that
still garden sleeping in the sunshine, so clean and wholesome.
"What do you want?" asked Miss Hedge sharply and shortly.
"I wos jest atellin' y'," said Waterloo--as he called himself--and his
voice rasped like a file. "I wants t'see Mr. Paslow."
"He is in town," snapped Mrs. Lilly, surveying the creature with still
deeper disgust. "Have you a message for him?"
Waterloo laid a warty finger on one side of his pug nose, and winked in
a horribly familiar manner. "Thet's tellin's," said he, grinning, "an'
not evin' to th' sect I'm so fond of, does I give myself away. Oh no,
not at all, by no means, you dear things."
"Go away," cried Beatrice, putting her handkerchief to her nose, for
the atmosphere was tainted by the presence of the man; "if you don't,
I'll call Durban." This was a happy inspiration, as she knew that
Durban was on the premises.
The man's eyes flashed still more wickedly. "Ho, yuss! by all means,
miss. Call 'im, and you'll see wot you'll see." He spat out the straw,
and produced a black pipe, which he stuck in his mouth. "I kin wyte."
"You'll be ducked in the horse-pond, you beast," said Mrs. Lilly,
growing red with anger. "I'll hand you over to the police, and----"
"Durban! Durban!" called out Beatrice, who caught a glimpse of the
servant round the corner of the terrace, and at once he came running
down the steps. "Who is this man, Durban?"
"How dare you come here?" said Durban, advancing threateningly on the
small man, who cringed and whined. "You were told not to come here at
least a dozen times."
"Lor'!" whimpered the little man, now subdued and servile; "wot a fuss
you do meke, Mr. Durban, sir. I come fur Mr. Paslow, I does."
"Send him away, Durban," cried Beatrice with great disgust.
Durban lifted one finger, and at once the tramp went slinking away like
a dog with its tail between its legs. And like a dog he halted at the
hedge which divided the drive from the garden, and showed his teeth in
an evil snarl. Beatrice could see the flash of white, and could guess
that he was snapping like a mad cur.
"Who on earth is that?" she asked Durban, when the man finally
disappeared behind the hedge.
Durban looked pale, and wiped his face with a shaking hand. "He's a
creature who did some dirty work for the late master."
"For Mr. Paslow?" demanded Mrs. Lilly, who always spoke of Vivian's
father in that way.
"For Mr. Alpenny," explained Durban, becoming more himself. "He is an
old scoundrel of nearly sixty years of age."
"He doesn't look it," said Beatrice.
"Strange as it may seem to you, missy, Waterloo has his vanity. He
wears a wig, and his teeth are false. But he is old and wicked, and has
been no end of times in prison. Mr. Alpenny employed him to do some
business in the slums, and he was several times down at The Camp. I
think he's a thief."
"I never saw him before, Durban."
"And you'll never see him again, missy," said the old servant
emphatically. "Mr. Alpenny, as I told you, had to do with a lot of
rogues and vagabonds, as many a money-lender has. But that sort of
thing is all done with. Waterloo will never trouble you again."
"I am glad of that," said the girl, who was quite pale. "His presence
seemed to taint the air. What a horrible man!"
"Why does he want to see Mr. Vivian?" asked Mrs. Lilly sharply.
Durban wheeled quickly. "He wants to see Mr. Paslow, does he? H'm! I
wonder why that is?"
"I am quite sure you can explain," said Beatrice, who was piqued at
being always kept in the dark.
Durban cast a look of pain on her, but replied quietly enough, "Perhaps
I do, missy. Mr. Paslow, as I told you, had something to do with my
late master's business."
"I never knew that," said Beatrice, remembering what Alpenny had hinted
about Vivian's crimes.
"Ridiculous!" cried Mrs. Lilly, bristling. "Master Vivian
is a gentleman, and would not meddle with your Alpennys and
Waterloos.--Begging your pardon, my young lady, since Mr. Alpenny was
your father."
"My stepfather," corrected Beatrice again.--"Well, Durban, if you won't
tell me, I'll ask Mr. Paslow myself."
"Do, missy; I am quite sure he can explain. And don't trouble your
pretty head any more about Waterloo, as there is trouble enough in the
house now."
"What do you mean by that?" asked the girl, her heart giving a bound.
Durban pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "I was coming to look
for you," he said, "and I am glad that you called me. Major Ruck is in
the drawing-room."
"Who is he?" asked Mrs. Lilly.
"He was a friend of my late master's."
"Then I hope he is a more respectable friend than the one we have
seen," said the housekeeper indignantly. "Mercy me and all the silver
and china ornaments in the drawing-room!" and she hurried towards the
house.
"It is all right, Mrs. Lilly; you will find Major Ruck quite a
gentleman, and very presentable. He is a friend of Lady Watson's too."
But Mrs. Lilly never waited to hear this explanation. As fast as her
stoutness would allow her, she ran up the steps of the terrace and
disappeared round the corner. Left alone with Durban, Beatrice asked
the question which had been burning her lips ever since she heard that
the Major was within. "Why has he come, Durban?"
"To ask you to marry him," said Durban grimly.
"But I don't know him," said Beatrice, alarmed.
"He knows you, missy--that is, he has seen your picture. Mr. Alpenny
promised him that you should be his wife, and, as I told you, he will
not let you slip through his fingers if he can help it."
"Durban," said the girl, after a pause, "I quite understand that Major
Ruck wanted to marry me when I was supposed to be the heiress of Mr.
Alpenny; but now that I am poor----"
"He has seen your photograph," said Durban again, and meaningly.
"And you think that he is in love with me?"
"He did," said Beatrice, resolved to say as little as possible.
"Will you not permit me to offer you a chair?" said Ruck, casting an
admiring glance at her beautiful face. Beatrice, seeing no good reason
to refuse, accepted the seat he brought forward. Then Ruck sat down on
a near sofa with his back to the window, and resumed the conversation
with great coolness. Beatrice, although prejudiced against him from
what her stepfather had said, liked his voice and the well-bred manner
he possessed. All the same she was on her guard. No doubt Major Ruck
would betray the cloven hoof before the interview was at an end.
"Poor Alpenny!" said the Major, leaning back on the sofa and twisting
his gloves idly. "I was at school with him, and with Mr. Paslow also."
"Vivian?" asked Beatrice involuntarily.
Major Ruck laughed. "With his father. My dear young lady, I am old
enough to have Vivian for a son. Paslow, Alpenny and myself were at
Rugby a very long time ago. I am old enough to be your father, and
yet," said the Major insinuatingly, as he leaned forward with a smile,
"I have come to offer myself as a husband."
"Mr. Alpenny told me before he died that you were likely to do so,"
said Beatrice, quite at her ease, and mistress of the situation; "but I
cannot guess, Mr. Ruck----"
"Major Ruck--retired!" said that gentleman.
"I cannot guess, Major," replied Beatrice, making the amendment, "why
you should wish to marry me, whom you have never seen."
"Pardon me. I have seen your photograph, which was shown to me by my
late friend, poor Alpenny. Also," said the Major, with emphasis, "one
day I came to The Camp, and Alpenny showed you to me."
"That is impossible," said Beatrice, wondering if he was lying. "I have
always been at The Camp, and I never saw you."
"You were asleep, my dear young lady--asleep in a hammock under the
trees. My friend Alpenny," added the Major, smiling, "was good enough
to offer me a sight of the Sleeping Beauty. I fell in love with you on
the spot. Mr. Alpenny, as we were old friends, was not averse to my
asking you to be my wife; and, indeed, but for his untimely death, I
should have come down to propose in a more reasonable way."
"No way can be reasonable in this case, Major. You say you know me?"
"From a sight of you in the hammock, from your photograph, and from the
fact that my late friend, poor Alpenny, gave me a very vivid conception
of your charming character."
"You seemed to have talked me over thoroughly between you," said the
girl, her face flushing.
"We did," confessed Ruck candidly. "I wanted to know if your character
was as charming as your face, and as fine as your figure. I was told by
Mr. Alpenny that your character transcended both."
"I think you must be Irish, Major, you speak so glibly"
"I was quartered in Ireland once," said Ruck coolly, "and not far from
the celebrated Blarney Stone. At least, Miss Hedge, I hope I speak
sufficiently glibly to explain thoroughly the reason I wish you to be
my wife."
In spite of her vexation, Beatrice could not be angry with the man.
His manners were so charming, his voice so fascinating, and his whole
attitude so devoid of anything approaching rudeness, that she was
compelled to keep her temper. "I don't think I quite understand," she
said at length, and suppressed a smile.
Ruck lifted his eyebrows. "Surely, my dear young lady, your glass tells
you the reason? I have an eye for beauty. I have also an independent
income of two thousand a year, and a small house in Yorkshire. I
belonged to a good club; and you will find my career is well known, as
regards the army."
"You are a very eligible suitor!" said Beatrice, with some scorn.
"In that case, I trust you will accept me," said the Major, with easy
assurance, "and especially as your late father wished that the marriage
should take place."
"I must decline, Major. Mr. Alpenny was my stepfather, and no blood
relation of mine. There was little love lost between us. Again, I am
poor--Lady Watson has Mr. Alpenny's money."
"A very charming lady, whom I know intimately. I am glad she has the
money and not you, Miss Hedge, as you can acquit me of mercenary
motives."
"Yes. But I don't see why you wish to marry me."
"I can give you three reasons. Your beauty, one"--the Major checked off
his remarks on his fingers; "the wish of my late friend, poor Alpenny,
two; and the strong desire of Lady Watson, three."
"What has Lady Watson to do with my marriage?" asked Beatrice in a
fiery tone.
"She was your mother's best friend, and----"
"That gives her no right to interfere," cried Miss Hedge, rising. "I
thank you, Major Ruck, for your proposal, but I must decline."
"No! no! Don't send me away with a broken heart, Miss Hedge."
"Men like you do not break their hearts, Major."
"There's some truth in that," admitted the Major; "our hearts are too
tough. But, seriously speaking," he added, and his jovial countenance
became grave, "you will be wise to marry me."
"On the three grounds you mentioned?" asked Beatrice disdainfully.
"On a fourth ground--or rather, I should say, for a fourth reason, Miss
Hedge--I can protect you."
"From what?"
"I'll tell you when you are Mrs. Ruck."
"I have no intention of being Mrs. Ruck," retorted the girl, her
courage rising, as she felt that she was being driven into a corner;
"and I do not understand these hints of danger, which are given to me
so freely."
"I gave you only one hint," said Ruck, his eyes on her face.
"Mr. Paslow and Durban have given me others. What does it all mean?"
"I should advise you to ask the two men you have mentioned," said Ruck,
taking up his hat, "unless, indeed, you will change your mind and
become the star of my life. As my wife, you will know everything; as
Miss Hedge, I fear you must be kept in the dark. Come now, Miss Hedge,
be advised. I am speaking for your good. I am a gentleman, well-off and
passable in looks. Why do you refuse me?"
"I can explain very shortly. I am engaged to Mr. Paslow."
"You will never marry Mr. Paslow," said Ruck, his face darkening.
Before Beatrice could ask the reason for this remark, the door opened,
and Vivian, very pale and defiant, entered. "I heard your last words,
Ruck," he said calmly, "and beg to tell you that you are quite wrong.
Miss Hedge will become my wife in two weeks--that is"--he bowed to
Beatrice--"if she will accept me as her husband."