TWO SCHEMERS.
The Squire noticed an estrangement had taken place between Irene and her
husband. She was too proud to allow her real feelings to appear on the
surface, but he saw below it and knew there was discord somewhere.
Redmond Maynard, since his son's departure, had led a lonely life.
Everyone in the county sympathised deeply with him, but he was not a man
to be soothed with kindly words; on the contrary, they irritated him. He
went about his daily avocations as usual, but it was evident he had lost
much of the interest in his surroundings. Dr. Harding ordered a change,
but the Squire protested he was in a perfect state of health, and that
there was no occasion for him to leave Hazelwell. The doctor was an old
and valued friend, in addition to being his medical attendant. He
practised in various parts of the county, his connection being select
and extensive. Dr. Harding's was a familiar figure in the hunting field,
and when he could spare the time he was nothing loth to attend a race
meeting. He was an excellent shot, and always had a standing invitation
to join the parties at Hazelwell. Of late, however, visitors there had
been few and far between, and Dr. Harding saw the Squire was gradually
falling into a fit of despondency which boded ill for his health. He
spoke to Irene about it, knowing the influence she had over him, and
requested her to persuade him to go south for a time. This she did in
her own winning way, promising Warren and herself would accompany him if
he thought well.
"That is an inducement certainly, to have your company," he said. "I
will think it over. I expect Harding has been putting you up to this,"
he added, smiling.
"Dr. Harding is only anxious about your health, and I am sure he advises
you for the best," she said.
"I am aware of that," replied the Squire; "but we do not always follow
the advice we ask. It is foolish, of course, and we ought to obey the
doctor when we call him in. I rather fancy a change would do you good,
Irene, you are not happy."
She looked troubled and said quickly--
"You are mistaken, I am perfectly happy; I have everything to make me
contented."
"Has Warren been behaving himself lately?" he asked.
"He always behaves himself," was her answer.
"I am glad you think so; I do not," he said gruffly. "Warren is going
the pace, and you know it."
His anxiety about Irene caused him for a time to forget his own
troubles.
Eli Todd watched the Squire, and noted how worn and aged he was growing.
This caused him many qualms of conscience; he knew the cause, and would
have liked to remove it. He wrote a long letter to Ulick, telling him
how his father's health suffered, and begging him to return. This caused
him to wonder if he was doing right in remaining away. Now that he knew
everything connected with Janet's disappearance from home, he felt it
was impossible for him to go to Hazelwell and meet Irene, as he was sure
to do. He wrote to Eli, explaining as well as he could that it was
impossible for him to return at present, but circumstances might arise
which would enable him to do so at no distant date. With this Eli had to
rest contented, but he would have preferred something more definite.
It was shortly after the Saint's great race with Pinkerton at Kempton
that the Squire came into Eli's cottage and sat down for a chat. Eli
gave him full particulars of all the mares and youngsters in the stud,
and said there would be some good prices realised at Doncaster in
September.
"Honeysuckle's foal will be a tip-topper," said Eli. "He'll run well
into four figures."
"I shall not sell him," replied the Squire.
Eli was glad to hear this; it meant the Squire thought of racing again.
"Shall you have him trained?" he asked.
"Yes, it is some time since I gave Fred May a turn. By the way, he has
got hold of a champion in the Saint. That must have been a splendid race
at Kempton. I wonder who Mr. Lanark is?"
"A new recruit to the turf," said Eli, smiling, "and he has made a rare
good start." "He little thinks his son owns the Saint," thought Eli.
"He has got into the right hands. Fred May is thoroughly honest. Mr.
Lanark, whoever he is, may congratulate himself. I wonder if he would
sell the Saint?" said the Squire, half to himself.
Eli smiled; he thought it would be a curious thing if the Squire bought
his son's horse. It occurred to him this might be the means of bringing
them together.
"I should think it would be a difficult matter to induce him to part
with him," said Eli.
"There can be no harm in trying," said the Squire. "I like the Saint's
breeding; he would do well for the stud."
"Why not run down to Fred May's and see what can be done?" said Eli. "It
will be a change for you."
"I think it will, and you had better come with me. I ought to write and
let him know we are coming."
"I will do it to save you the trouble," said Eli.
"Very well, fix it for next Thursday, if that will suit Mr. Lanark,
providing he is willing to sell," replied the Squire.
Eli cudgelled his brains how to bring about the meeting he desired. If
Ulick knew his father was coming to Newmarket to see the Saint he would
not be present, of that Eli felt certain. The only plan that suggested
itself to him was to take Fred May into his confidence, for it was
evident to Eli the trainer knew nothing of the misunderstanding between
father and son. He wrote his letter after much deliberation, and
anxiously awaited the reply. It came by return of post, and in it the
trainer plainly showed how astonished he was at the breach between them.
"I will do all in my power to help you to heal it," he wrote, "but I am
afraid we shall get into trouble. Neither the Squire nor his son like
being dictated to, and they will probably think we have taken a liberty.
However, we will risk it. Bring him on Thursday, and I'll see that his
son is here, you can leave that to me. If we can effect a reconciliation
we shall have done much good. The Saint is an extraordinarily good colt,
equal to the best Derby form, and I am very glad I advised Mr. Maynard
to buy him. Tell the Squire there is no price upon him, but that Mr.
Lanark will be delighted to see him and show him his champion, and one
or two more he has in my stable."
Eli sent a note up to the Squire stating the matter was arranged, and
they had better go to London on the Wednesday, and on to Newmarket next
day.
To this arrangement he agreed, and sent Bob Heather with a letter to
tell Irene of his intention.
"If you and Warren come to town I will meet you at the Walton Hotel on
Friday."
Irene sent back a reply to the effect that they would be there, as
Warren had to go up to town again at the end of the week.
When Ulick received a letter from his trainer requesting him to go to
Newmarket on Wednesday, he hastened down at once, fearing something
might have gone wrong with the Saint.
"He's all right," said Fred May, in reply to Ulick's anxious inquiries,
"but I have some rather startling news for you. A gentleman is coming to
see him to-morrow; he wishes to buy him. I thought you would have no
objection to showing him the Saint yourself."
Ulick laughed as he replied, "He is coming on a useless errand; I would
not sell him at any price."
"Never refuse a good offer," said Fred May.
"Surely you would not like to lose him?" he replied.
"Certainly not, but I should advise you all the same to take a stiff
price."
"Don't you think he will stand training?"
"Not a shadow of doubt about that," was the trainer's reply.
"Then I shall not part with him. Who is the gentleman?"
"I am not quite sure, but I fancy he is rather an exalted person," said
Fred, mysteriously.
"You have brought me down on a wild-goose chase," laughed Ulick. "You
don't even know the name of the intending purchaser. I am surprised at
you, Fred; however, I forgive you. I am always glad of an excuse to run
down to Newmarket and have a gallop on the Heath."
The Squire and Eli came by an early train, and arrived at Stanton House,
the trainer's residence, unseen by Ulick, who happened to be reading the
paper in Fred May's room.
After a few words of welcome with his old patron, the trainer said he
would tell Mr. Lanark they were here, and left the room. Eli felt very
uncomfortable; he wondered if there would be an explosion. He had agreed
with Fred May that it would be better to leave them alone together.
The door opened, and the trainer said, "This is Mr. Lanark, I think you
know him?"
Father and son were face to face, and, taking advantage of their
astonishment and consternation, the trainer and Eli beat a retreat,
wondering how their plot would succeed.
For a few moments neither of them spoke. Both knew they had been brought
together by Eli and the trainer. At last a smile came over the Squire's
face, and he said, as he held out his hand, "We have been caught
cleverly, Ulick, and I trust it is all for the best; it is a long time
since we met, my boy." His voice shook at the finish, and this touched
Ulick; he noticed how his father had changed, he seemed much older, and
his face more worn. He clasped his hand and said--
"We have both suffered; it was all a mistake." He seemed at a loss for
words. Had his father decided to do him justice, or did he still suspect
him? It would be impossible for him to return to Hazelwell at present,
and be constantly meeting Warren and his wife; that was more than he
could endure, and yet he was unable to explain the reason to his father.
"So you are Mr. Lanark," said the Squire, laughing more heartily than he
had done for many a day.
Eli and the trainer, listening like two guilty schoolboys in the hall,
heard him, and the former said, joyfully--
"It's all right, Fred, that's the Squire's laugh, and right glad I am to
hear it."
"It's splendid," said Fred, as he rubbed his hands in high glee; "we
must crack a bottle over this, Eli, come along."
"I am Mr. Lanark," said Ulick, "and I own the Saint, but he is not for
sale," he added, smiling.
"Never mind the horse at present; tell me what you have been doing,"
said the Squire.
"Living quietly in a flat in West Kensington, and doing a little
racing," replied Ulick.
"Not quite so pleasant as Hazelwell?" inquired his father.
"There is no place quite like Hazelwell to my mind," said his son. "I
was fearfully dull and miserable at first, but I have become fairly used
to it now."
"You will come back to our home?" was the next question.
Ulick looked troubled; what could he say, how make an excuse?
"There is no occasion to hesitate," said the Squire. "Return with me
to-day; the flat can look after itself."
The temptation was great. He thought of Hazelwell and all it meant to
him; then he thought of Irene. If he was constantly in Warren's company
he felt he must betray himself. Better to stay away, far better for all
of them.
"I cannot return to-day, father," he said, quietly. "I have very good
reasons for not doing so. Trust me, believe in me; I am acting for the
best, as one day you will discover."
The Squire's face clouded. "He dare not face us all after what he has
done," was his thought. He sighed heavily, and his son knew what it
meant.
"You still believe me guilty," he said. "You are wrong, quite wrong. I
can prove my innocence, but you ought not to require that of me. Cannot
you trust me, father?"
The appealing tone in his voice was unmistakable, there was a ring of
sincerity in it, and the Squire wavered. Ulick had not been accustomed
to deceiving him. If he could only bring himself to believe in his
innocence; but the evidence was damning, and now his refusal to return
to Hazelwell confirmed it.
"Do you know who took Janet Todd away from home?" he asked.
"Yes," replied Ulick, in a low voice.
"Ah!" exclaimed the Squire, in a tone of satisfaction. "Then why have
you not given me his name long ago?"
"Because I only discovered it the other day, and that quite by
accident."
"Who is the scoundrel?"
"I cannot tell you."
"You must," thundered the Squire.
Ulick remained silent, nothing his father might say would make him break
his resolve. It was hard, very hard, and at that moment he hated Warren
Courtly heartily.
"Come, my boy," said his father, in a milder tone, "let there be no more
differences between us. Are you satisfied if I say I am convinced of
your innocence, and ask you to forgive me for my unjust suspicions? I
regret the hasty, angry words I said that night. Come back home with me,
and let bygones be bygones."
Ulick was moved, for he knew what it cost his father to speak such
words, and acknowledge himself in the wrong. It was an appeal that cut
him to the heart to refuse.
"If you knew all, father, you would say I was acting right not to return
home at present. To hear you say you are convinced of my innocence has
lifted a heavy load from me, and I thank you for those words with all my
heart. How I long to return to Hazelwell, you must know, and therefore
will understand the weighty reasons I have for not doing so. Trust me,
father, believe in me, and I shall be the happiest man alive."
The Squire did not hesitate. He spoke steadily as he said, "I will trust
you, my son. We have been separated too long. If you cannot return with
me, I know there must be grave cause of which I know nothing. What it is
I cannot imagine, but you will tell me some day, and I hope and pray
that it will not be long. If you will not return with me to Hazelwell,
you must come to the Walton with me and spend a few days."
"Willingly," said Ulick. "It will be like the good old times for us to
be together again."
"I feel a new man," said the Squire, heartily, as he rose to his feet.
"We will go and find those two schemers, Eli and Fred, and then have a
look at the Saint."