LORD DESERET HELPS
Joyce solved the lodging difficulty off-hand, and old Seth, assured of
bed and board, gave himself up to the impossible task of finding a
lost girl who had no desire to be found.
Jim made him promise to report himself each day, so that he could keep
some track of his doings. He wrote down his address on a card and put
it in his pocket, and watched him go forth the first day with many
misgivings.
He saw him go out into the crowded street, bent as he had never been
before, peering intently into the bewildering maze of hurrying faces,
with a look of dogged perplexity as to where to go first on his own
sad gray face. The throng bumped into him, and jostled him to and fro,
and passed on, unheeding or vituperative, and at last he turned and
went slowly out of sight, and Jim wondered if he would ever see him
again.
He was dining that night with Lord Deseret, and determined to ask his
advice on the matter. The very look of that calm white face gave one
the impression of incomprehensibly vast experience and unusual insight
into the depths of human nature. He might be able to suggest
something.
My lord's immediate object, apart from his liking for the boy, was to
learn the result of their visit to Carne. He had blamed himself, but
not unduly, for the incautious words that had set the ball rolling.
But who on earth would ever have imagined boys of that age in such
ignorance of matters so vital?
He chatted pleasantly throughout the dinner, drawing from the
ingenuous Jim many a little self-revelation, which all tended
to the confirmation of the good opinion he had formed of him. And he
found the modesty which acknowledged many lacks, and was not ashamed
to ask for explanations of things it did not understand, distinctly
refreshing in an age when self-assertion was much to the fore. He
noticed too a lessening of the previous boyish gaiety and
carelessness, and traces of the clouds which had suddenly obscured his
sun.
"And how did you fare at Carne?" he asked, as soon as they were alone.
"I feel somewhat guilty in that matter, you see. From what I know of
it I can imagine you heard upsetting and discomforting things. Perhaps
now I can be of some assistance to you."
"You are very kind to me, sir, and I wanted to ask your advice. But in
that matter"--he shook his head despondently--"I don't see how any one
can help. It's all a tangle, but in my own mind I'm sure Jack must be
Lady Susan Sandys's boy, and that means that I--that I am----"
"You are yourself, my dear lad, and, unless I am very much mistaken,
you will render a very good account of yourself when your chance
comes."
"I will do my best, sir, but that does not alter the fact that I am
out of it as far as Carne is concerned. And that means a great deal to
me. Not that I want it for itself, but--well, there are other
things----" And he stuck, with a choking in the throat.
"Don't tell me anything you don't want to, but if I can help I would
very much like to."
"It's this way, sir. Jack and I are both in love with Gracie----"
"And who is Gracie, now?"
"Grace Eager--she is the sister of Mr. Eager, our curate at Wynsloe.
It is he who has done everything for us----"
"He's a very fine fellow, then, and has done good work."
"Oh, he's the finest man in the world. We were growing up little
savages, running wild on the flats, when he came, and he has made us
into men--he and Gracie between them. And Gracie is wonderful and
lovely and all that is good. And now----"
"Has she chosen Jack?"
"We are to say nothing more about it for a year--just to wait and see.
You see we all grew up together, and she had never thought of us in
that way, and it upset everything----"
"I think I understand. Now, my dear boy, will you take it from an old
man, who has seen more of the world than perhaps has been good for
him, that there is not the slightest ground for your feeling as you
do. I knew your father very intimately. We had many failings in
common. He behaved as we most of us behaved in those days--according
to our lights, or shadows, and in accord with the times in which we
lived. I cannot exonerate him any more than the rest of you. Still, do
not think too harshly of him! He was the product of his age. Now, what
valid grounds have you for believing your brother to be in any way
better circumstanced than yourself?"
"He's so much the better man, sir. Jack's got a head on him and
will----"
"If you applied that to the peerage generally, I'm afraid you would
bar many escutcheons," said the old man, with a smile. "Brains by no
means always follow the direct lines of descent. In fact, as you ought
to know, a cross strain frequently produces a finer result. From that
point of view you may set your mind at ease. As to how the matter is
to be settled eventually, that is beyond me. Time works out his own
strange solutions of difficulties. I'm afraid you'll have to leave it
to him. Then, again, you are both going into this war. If only one of
you should come back----"
"Yes, that would settle it. I have been looking to that as the only
settlement," said Jim solemnly.
"Meaning that Jack would most likely come back, and that you would
most likely not."
"I think that would be the best settlement, sir. The better man should
get the prizes, and there can be no question which is the better of us
two."
"Jim, my boy,"--and the long thin white hand came down gently on the
boy's strong brown one, and rested on it impressively--"there are
better things in this world even than brains. Clean hearts, clean
consciences, clean lives----"
"Jack has all those, sir."
"And so have you, and they are worth more than all the brains in the
world in some people's eyes. Did brains ever win a girl's heart?--or
any one else's?"
"I'm afraid I don't know much about them; sir," said a touch of the
old Jim.
"And as to the tangle," continued the old man, very well satisfied
with his work, "it may be considerably more involved than you imagine.
Supposing, for instance, that your father was actually married to the
other girl before he married Lady Susan! Where do you find yourselves
then? It is by no means impossible--such very strange things were done
in those times. I could tell you of infinitely stranger things than
that."
"I have hardly thought of it in that light," said Jim.
"Take my advice and think no more of your tangle. Just go ahead with
the work you have in hand, and when your chance comes, as it will,
make the most of it."
"You have done me good, sir. May I ask you about another matter?"
"Surely, my boy. Another tangle?"
And Jim told him briefly about Kattie, and old Seth's visit and
impossible quest.
"He's a fine old fellow, and young Seth saved my life twice. I'd like
to help him if I could, but I don't know what I can do. Besides,
Kattie was a nice girl. She used to play with us all on the sands, you
know."
"You don't know, for certain, that she has come to London?"
"Old Seth seems sure of it."
"Who else was there when you all used to play together on the sands?"
"Oh, Gracie, and Margaret and George Hempath, and Ralph Harben----"
"Who is Ralph Harben?"
"Son of Mr. Harben, Sir George's partner. They're the big army
contractors, you know."
"And where is he now?"
"Up here in London. He's in the Dragoons--lieutenant. So is George."
"Any one else?"
"Mr. Eager and Sir George, and Bob Lethem, their groom. They all used
to ride over, you see, and we needed all hands, so we used to press
Bob into the service."
"And you don't think there is any entanglement there?"
"What--Kattie and Bob? No, I'm sure there isn't. You see, Kattie got
rather large ideas, and she was certainly very pretty. She would never
have looked at Bob, I'm certain."
"I will see if I can learn anything. There are ways if you know how to
use them."
"Thank you, sir. I thought if any one could help us it would be you."
"How are you mounted? You ought to have a second horse if you're going
out. They will allow you two, I suppose."
"I believe so. I was thinking of buying one out of that money you gave
me."
"Keep it, my boy. You may need it all. You never know what may happen
when you get abroad. If you'll take my advice you'll always carry a
good supply in a belt next your skin when you're campaigning. I'll
find you a horse up to all your requirements. You want height and bone
and muscle for a charger on campaign. Beauty Is a fifth consideration.
Your life may depend upon your horse."
"There is no doubt about our going, then, sir?" asked the boy, with a
sparkle in his eyes.
"No doubt, I'm afraid, my boy; but their plans are very undecided. I
was speaking with Clarendon only last night, and, as far as I can make
out, what our Government would like would be to coerce Russia by
making a demonstration in force, and the Tsar is much too pig-headed
for that--as they would know if they knew him as well as I do."
"You know him, sir?
"I was ambassador there for nearly ten years, and in ten years one
learns a man fairly well. He is an unusually strong-willed and
determined man, bigoted too, and believes absolutely in his
mission----"
"What is that, sir?"
"Oh--briefly--to conquer the world on the lines laid down by his
ancestor, Peter the Great. But the man who sets out to conquer the
world always finds his Waterloo sooner or later."
And Jim went home that night feeling very much less under a cloud on
his own account, and not unhopeful on Seth's. For this new old friend
of his impressed him deeply as one who knew a great deal more than
most people, and as the kind of man who, if he took a matter up, would
not rest till he attained his end.
But as for Kattie, if she had indeed come to London, he had nothing
but fears.