_In which shall be found mention of a certain black bag_
"Baxter!"
"Sir?"
"Get me a pen, and ink!"
"Yes, sir."
Now any ordinary mortal might have manifested just a little surprise to
behold his master walk suddenly in, dusty and dishevelled of person, his
habitual languor entirely laid aside, and to thus demand pen and ink,
forthwith. But then, Baxter, though mortal, was the very cream of a
gentleman's gentleman, and the acme of valets, (as has been said), and
comported himself accordingly.
"Baxter!"
"Sir?"
"Oblige me by getting this cashed."
"Yes, sir."
"Bring half of it in gold."
"Sir," said Baxter, glancing down at the slip of paper, "did you
say--half, sir?"
"Yes, Baxter,--I'd take it all in gold only that it would be rather
awkward to drag around. So bring half in gold, and the rest in--five
pound notes."
"Very good, sir!"
"And--Baxter!"
"Sir?"
"Take a cab!"
"Certainly sir." And Baxter went out, closing the door behind him.
Meanwhile Bellew busied himself in removing all traces of his journey,
and was already bathed, and shaved, and dressed, by the time
Baxter returned.
Now gripped in his right hand Baxter carried a black leather bag which
jingled as he set it down upon the table.
"Got it?" enquired Bellew.
"I have, sir."
"Good!" nodded Bellew. "Now just run around to the garage, and fetch the
new racing car,--the Mercedes."
"Now, sir?"
"Now, Baxter!"
Once more Baxter departed, and, while he was gone, Bellew began to
pack,--that is to say, he bundled coats and trousers, shirts and boots
into a portmanteau in a way that would have wrung Baxter's heart, could
he have seen. Which done, Bellew opened the black bag, glanced inside,
shut it again, and, lighting his pipe, stretched himself out upon an
ottoman, and immediately became plunged in thought.
So lost was he, indeed, that Baxter, upon his return was necessitated to
emit three distinct coughs,--(the most perfectly proper, and
gentleman-like coughs in the world) ere Bellew was aware of
his presence.
"Oh!--that you, Baxter?" said he, sitting up, "back so soon?"
"The car is at the door, sir."
"The car?--ah yes, to be sure!--Baxter."
"Sir?"
"What should you say if I told you--" Bellew paused to strike a match,
broke it, tried another, broke that, and finally put his pipe back into
his pocket, very conscious the while of Baxter's steady, though
perfectly respectful regard.
"Baxter," said he again.
"Sir?" said Baxter.
"What should you say if I told you that I was in love--at last,
Baxter!--Head over ears--hopelessly--irretrievably?"
"Say, sir?--why I should say,--indeed, sir?"
"What should you say," pursued Bellew, staring thoughtfully down at the
rug under his feet, "if I told you that I am so very much, in love that
I am positively afraid to--tell her so?"
"I should say--very remarkable, sir!"
Bellew took out his pipe again, looked at it very much as if he had
never seen such a thing before, and laid it down upon the mantelpiece.
"Baxter," said he, "kindly understand that I am speaking to you
as--er--man to man,--as my father's old and trusted servant and my early
boy-hood's only friend; sit down, John."
"Thank you, Master George, sir."
"I wish to--confess to you, John, that--er--regarding the--er--Haunting
Spectre of the Might Have Been,--you were entirely in the right. At that
time I knew no more the meaning of the--er--the word, John--"
"Meaning the word--Love, Master George!"
"Precisely; I knew no more about it than--that table. But during these
latter days, I have begun to understand, and--er--the fact of the matter
is--I'm--I'm fairly--up against it, John!"
Here, Baxter, who had been watching him with his quick, sharp eyes
nodded his head solemnly:
"Master George," said he, "speaking as your father's old servant, and
your boyhood's friend,--I'm afraid you are."
Bellew took a turn up and down the room, and then pausing in front of
Baxter, (who had risen also, as a matter of course), he suddenly laid
his two hands upon his valet's shoulders.
"Baxter," said he, "you'll remember that after my mother died, my father
was always too busy piling up his millions to give much time or thought
to me, and I should have been a very lonely small boy if it hadn't been
for you, John Baxter. I was often 'up against it,' in those days, John,
and you were always ready to help, and advise me;--but now,--well, from
the look of things, I'm rather afraid that I must stay 'up against
it'--that the game is lost already, John. But which ever way Fate
decides--win, or lose,--I'm glad--yes, very glad to have learned the
true meaning of--the word, John."
"Master George, sir,--there was a poet once--Tennyson, I think, who
said,--'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at
all,' and I know--that he was--right. Many years ago,--before you were
born, Master George, I loved--and lost, and that is how I know. But I
hope that Fortune will be kinder to you, indeed I do."
"Thank you, John,--though I don't see why she should be." And Bellew
stood staring down at the rug again, till aroused by Baxter's cough:
"Pray sir, what are your orders, the car is waiting downstairs?"
"Orders?--why--er--pack your grip, Baxter, I shall take you with me,
this time, into Arcadia, Baxter."
"For how long, sir?"
"Probably a week."
"Very good, sir."
"It is now half-past three, I must be back in Dapplemere at eight. Take
your time--I'll go down to look at the machine. Just lock the place up,
and--er--don't forget the black bag."
Some ten minutes later the great racing car set out on its journey, with
Bellew at the wheel, and Baxter beside him with the black bag held
firmly upon his knee.
Their process was, necessarily, slow at first, on account of the crowded
thoroughfares. But, every now and then, the long, low car would shoot
forward through some gap in the traffic, grazing the hubs of bus-wheels,
dodging hansoms, shaving sudden corners in an apparently reckless
manner. But Baxter, with his hand always upon the black leather bag, sat
calm and unruffled, since he knew, by long experience, that Bellew's eye
was quick and true, and his hand firm and sure upon the wheel.
Over Westminster Bridge, and along the Old Kent Road they sped, now
fast, now slow,--threading a tortuous, and difficult way amid the myriad
vehicles, and so, betimes, they reached Blackheath.
And now the powerful machine hummed over that ancient road that had
aforetime, shaken to the tread of stalwart Roman Legionaries,--up
Shooter's Hill, and down,--and so into the open country.
And, ever as they went, they talked. And not as master and servant but
as "between man and man,"--wherefore Baxter the Valet became merged and
lost in Baxter the Human,--the honest John of the old days,--a gray
haired, kindly-eyed, middle-aged cosmopolitan who listened to, and
looked at, Young Alcides beside him as if he had indeed been the Master
George, of years ago.
"So you see, John, if all things _do_ go well with me, we should
probably take a trip to the Mediterranean."
"In the--'Silvia,' of course, Master George?"
"Yes; though--er--I've decided to change her name, John."
"Ah!--very natural--under the circumstances, Master George," said honest
John, his eyes twinkling slyly as he spoke, "Now, if I might suggest a
new name it would be hard to find a more original one than 'The Haunting
Spectre of the--"
"Bosh, John!--there never was such a thing, you were quite right, as I
said before, and--by heaven,--potato sacks!"
"Eh,--what?--potato sacks, Master George?"
They had been climbing a long, winding ascent, but now, having reached
the top of the hill, they overtook a great, lumbering market cart, or
wain, piled high with sacks of potatoes, and driven by an extremely
surly-faced man in a smock-frock.
"Hallo there!" cried Bellew, slowing up, "how much for one of your
potato-sacks?"
"Get out, now!" growled the surly-faced man, in a tone as surly as his
look, "can't ye see as they're all occipied?"
"Well,--empty one."
"Get out, now!" repeated the man, scowling blacker than ever.
"I'll give you a sovereign for one."
"Now, don't ye try to come none o' your jokes wi' me, young feller!"
growled the carter. "Sovereign!--bah!--Show us."
"Here it is," said Bellew, holding up the coin in question. "Catch!"
and, with the word, he tossed it up to the carter who caught it, very
dexterously, looked at it, bit it, rubbed it on his sleeve, rang it upon
the foot-board of his waggon, bit it again and finally pocketed it.
"It's a go, sir," he nodded, his scowl vanishing as by magic; and as he
spoke, he turned, seized the nearest sack, and, forthwith sent a cascade
of potatoes rolling, and bounding all over the road. Which done, he
folded up the sack, and handed it down to Bellew who thrust it under the
seat, nodded, and, throwing in the clutch, set off down the road. But,
long after the car had hummed itself out of sight, and the dust of its
going had subsided, the carter sat staring after it--open-mouthed.
If Baxter wondered at this purchase, he said nothing, only he bent his
gaze thoughtfully upon the black leather bag that he held upon his knee.
On they sped between fragrant hedges, under whispering trees, past
lonely cottages and farm-houses, past gate, and field, and wood, until
the sun grew low.
At last, Bellew stopped the automobile at a place where a narrow lane,
or cart track, branched off from the high road, and wound away between
great trees.
"I leave you here," said he as he sprang from the car, "this is
Dapplemere,--the farmhouse lies over the up-land, yonder, though you
can't see it because of the trees."
"Is it far, Master George?"
"About half a mile."
"Here is the bag, sir; but--do you think it is--quite safe--?"
"Safe, John?"
"Under the circumstances, Master George, I think it would be advisable
to--to take this with you." And he held out a small revolver. Bellew
laughed, and shook his head.
"Such things aren't necessary--here in Arcadia, John,--besides, I have
my stick. So good-bye, for the present, you'll stay at the 'King's
Head,'--remember."
"Good-night, Master George, sir, goodnight! and good fortune go with
you."
"Thank you!" said Bellew, and reached out his hand, "I think we'll shake
on that, John!"
So they clasped hands, and Bellew turned, and set off along the grassy
lane. And, presently, as he went, he heard the hum of the car grow
rapidly fainter and fainter until it was lost in the quiet of
the evening.