As he walked away from The Trellis House Radmore felt terribly disturbed,
and maddened with himself for feeling so disturbed.
After all, Enid Crofton meant very little to him! He even told himself
that he had never really liked, still less respected, her and yet there
had been something that drove him on, that allured him, that made him
feel as he had felt to-night. But for the accident of his having seen
that letter from poor foolish Jack Tosswill he might, by this time
to-morrow, have been in the position of Enid Crofton's future husband!
The knowledge turned him sick.
Just now he felt that he never wished to see her again.
As he walked on, leaving the village behind him, and emerging on the
great common which stretched between Beechfield and the nearest railway
station--he asked himself whether or no it was possible that she had
genuinely fallen in love with Jack Tosswill?
And then he stayed his steps suddenly. He had remembered the look of
terror, the look of being "found out," which had crossed her face, when
she had realised that he had seen that fatally revealing corner of her
love-letter.
Why had she looked like that? And then, all at once, he knew. It was for
him that Enid Crofton had come to Beechfield, for him, or rather for his
money. He felt hideously disturbed as certain tiny past happenings
crowded on his memory. He felt he would give half his possessions were it
possible thereby to transplant The Trellis House hundreds of miles from
Beechfield.
He threw a rueful thought to Jack Tosswill. Miss Pendarth had been right,
after all. That sort of experience might well embitter the whole of the
early life of such a priggish, self-centred youth; and while he was
chewing the cud of these painful, troubling thoughts there came a woman's
voice out of the darkness.
"Does this lead on into Beechfield, sir? I want to find The Trellis
House. I've been there once before, but it was broad daylight then."
Radmore peered at the speaker: a thin, medium-sized woman she seemed to
be; obviously not one of the country folk--by her accent a Londoner.
"Go straight on, and in about a quarter of an hour, you'll find The
Trellis House on your right. But you'd better enquire as soon as you get
into the village itself. Is it Mrs. Crofton's house that you want to
find?"
"Yes, that's the place I'm bound for," said the woman.
"Look here," said Radmore good-naturedly. "I was only going for a walk.
I'll take you along to The Trellis House. You might easily miss it."
He turned, and they began walking along the road side by side.
"I suppose Mrs. Crofton 'asn't gone away yet, I'm sure to find 'er there,
sir?" There was a doubting, almost a resentful, tone in the mincing
voice.
"I think she's at home. Isn't she expecting you?" Radmore had taken the
woman for a superior servant.
"She's not expecting me exactly, but me and my 'usband have been 'oping
for a letter from Mrs. Crofton. As nothing's come, I thought I'd just
come down and see 'er. My 'usband asked 'er to get the address of a
gentleman who 'e thinks might 'elp 'im--Major Radmore. I don't suppose
as what you've ever 'eard of 'im, sir?"
Radmore said quietly, "I know Major Radmore rather well. May I ask your
name?"
She hesitated, then answered:--"Mrs. Piper, sir. My 'usband was Colonel
Crofton's dog-breeding assistant, and 'e's about to start for 'imself in
the same line, if 'e can get the money that's been promised 'im. If 'e
can't get that money--well, 'e'll have to go into service again, and 'e
thought that Major Radmore, who's a kind, generous gentleman, might 'elp
'im to a job."
Radmore felt amused, interested, and, yes, a little touched. Evidently
his distaste for Piper had not been reciprocal.
"I suppose to start dog-breeding requires a good bit of money," he said.
"Well, sir, it's this way. Fancy dogs fetch a good bit more money than
they did. Such a lot o' breeding stopped during the War. But what with
one thing and another, and prices 'aving gone up so, Piper says 'twould
be no good going in for such a thing under a matter of £500. But we've
got good hopes of getting the money," said the woman composedly.
"Have you indeed?"
Then he felt rather ashamed of the little game he was playing with this
no doubt excellent woman.
"Look here, Mrs. Piper," he exclaimed, "perhaps I ought to tell you
frankly that _my_ name is Radmore. I no longer call myself 'Major
Radmore.' My address for the present is Old Place, Beechfield. But
Beechfield alone would find me, and I hope your husband will let me
know if I can do anything for him."
"There now! Could one ever hope for such a thing coming to pass as my
meeting you, sir, accidental like?"
Mrs. Piper was genuinely moved and excited. She felt that Providence, in
whom she only believed when she was in trouble, had done her a good turn.
For a moment or two she remained silent, thinking intently, wondering
whether she dared take advantage of this extraordinary chance--a chance
that might never occur again.
"I take it, sir," she said at last, "that you are a friend of Mrs.
Crofton's?"
"Of course I am well acquainted with the lady you name." There came a
tone of reserve, instantly detected by the woman's quick ear and quicker
mind, into the speaker's voice. "And I had a great regard for your
husband's late employer, Colonel Crofton," he added.
"Aye, 'e was a good gentleman and no mistake," said Mrs. Piper feelingly.
She was wondering how far she dare go. She knew the man walking by her
side was very rich; Piper had called him a millionaire.
"I 'ope you won't think me troublesome, sir, if I tells you 'ow matters
are between Mrs. Crofton and my 'usband?"
There came no immediate answer to her question. Still she decided to go
on.
"Piper was with the Colonel a long time, sir. And after the poor
gentleman's death Mrs. Crofton promised Piper that she'd oblige 'im in
the matter of financing 'is new business."
Radmore was very much surprised. He felt certain that Enid Crofton had
no money to spare, then he told himself that women are sometimes very
foolish, especially if any matter of sentiment is in question. But
somehow he would not have thought that particular woman would ever be
tempted to show herself impulsively generous.
"You spoke just now, Mrs. Piper, as if there was some doubt about the
money?"
"Did I, sir? Well, one can never tell in this world. But I think Mrs.
Crofton _will_ find the money." She added, almost in a whisper, "It's to
'er interest to do so, sir."
"To her interest?" repeated Radmore. "What exactly do you mean?"
"I don't quite understand it myself, sir." Mrs. Piper spoke with a touch
of light indifference in her voice, "Piper don't tell me very much. I was
in Islington, conducting a little business I've got, when Colonel Crofton
came by 'is sad death. Mrs. Crofton spoke to Piper most feelingly, sir,
about the service 'e'd done her by what 'e said at the inquest. I've
always 'ad my belief, sir, that Piper might 'ave said something more and
different that would have been, maybe, awkward for Mrs. Crofton." She
waited a moment, realising that she had burnt her boats. "Do you take my
meaning, sir?"
"No," said Radmore sternly, "I don't take your meaning at all, Mrs.
Piper. I don't in the least understand what you meant to imply just now."
A most disturbing suspicion had begun to assail him. Was this woman, with
her low, mincing voice, and carefully chosen words, something of a
blackmailer?
They walked on in silence for a few minutes, and on her side, Mrs. Piper
began to doubt very much whether she had acted for the best in being so
honest--"honest" was the word she used to herself. But she told herself
that now she had started, perhaps she had better go straight on with it.
"It's my belief that Piper did ask Mrs. Crofton to speak to you, sir,
about the matter, and I thought, maybe, that she 'ad done so. 'Ave I your
permission to say, sir, that I met you in the road, and that the subject
cropped up as it were?"
"You can say anything you like," said Radmore coldly.
He could not ask this strange, sinister woman to remain silent, yet the
thought that Enid Crofton was about to be told that he and this Mrs.
Piper had discussed her affairs was very disagreeable to him.
Radmore was tempted for a moment to do a quixotic act, to say to the
woman, "I will find this money for your husband; don't trouble Mrs.
Crofton," and but for what had happened not an hour ago he would almost
certainly have done so. But now he felt as if he never wanted to hear
Enid Crofton's name mentioned again, and he would have given a good deal
to obliterate her and her concerns entirely from his memory.
They were now, much to his relief, close to The Trellis House: "I will
ring the bell for you," he said courteously, and then, without waiting
for her thanks, he hurried off towards Old Place.
* * * * *
The next evening Jack Tosswill drew Radmore aside. "Look here," he said
awkwardly, "I wonder if you'd kindly wait a bit after the others have
gone to bed? I want to ask you something, Godfrey."
"Of course I will, old chap." Radmore looked hard into the young man's
moody, troubled face, and came to a certain conclusion. Doubtless Enid
Crofton had given Jack his dismissal, and the foolish fellow was going to
pour it all out. He felt he was in for a disagreeable, not to say
painful, half hour. Few people of a kindly disposition even reach the age
Radmore had reached without having had more than one such talk with a
young man crossed in love.
As soon as they settled themselves down, each with his pipe, in front
of the drawing-room fire, Jack began, speaking obviously with a great
effort, and yet with a directness and honesty which the older man
admired:--
"Look here, Godfrey? It's no use beating about the bush. I want to know
if you can lend me £500, and I want to say at once that I don't know when
I shall be able to pay you back. Still, I shall be able to pay you
interest. I suppose one pays the bank rate? I don't know anything about
those things. Of course, you may ask why don't I go to my father, but--"
Radmore stopped him. "It's all right, old chap. I'll give you a cheque
this evening before we go to bed."
"I say--" Jack turned round. "You're a good fellow, Radmore; I wouldn't
do it, only--only--"
"I know," said Radmore coolly. "I quite realise it isn't for yourself. I
suppose it's to oblige a pal. You needn't tell me anything more about it.
As a matter of fact I meant to ask you whether you'd take a present from
me of just that sum. I don't suppose you know how I feel about you all.
George and I were just like brothers. He'd have given me anything."
"No, no! I want this to be a business transaction, Godfrey." He said the
words just a little fiercely.
"So it shall be--if you want it that way. I'll go and get my cheque book
now."
When he came back, the cheque made out in his hand, he said thoughtfully,
"I hope your friend hasn't got into the sort of scrape which means that
one has to pay money of a--well, of a blackmailing sort? There's no end
to _that_, you know."
Jack Tosswill looked surprised. "Good Heavens, no! He's only being rushed
over a bill--legal proceedings threatened--you know the sort of thing?"
"I've made out the cheque to self and endorsed it," observed Radmore.
"Thanks awfully. You _are_ a good sort. I am far more grateful than I can
say, far more than--than--if it was only for myself--"
He stopped abruptly, and there was an awkward pause. Then Jack, speaking
rather breathlessly, asked an odd question:--
"You knew Crofton very well, didn't you, Godfrey? What kind of a chap was
he?"
He brought out the question with an effort. But he did so want to know!
For the first time in his self-confident, comfortable, young life Jack
Tosswill was in love and full of painful, poignant, retrospective
jealousy.
Radmore looked away, instinctively. "I liked Colonel Crofton, I always
got on with him--but he was not popular. He was not at all happy when I
knew him, and unhappy people are rarely popular."
He was wondering whether he had better say anything to Jack--whether the
favour he had just done him gave him the right to speak.
"I suppose he was at least thirty years older than Mrs. Crofton?"
Radmore nodded, and then they neither spoke for a few moments. Each was
waiting for the other to say something, and at last Jack asked another
question.
"They didn't get on very well together, did they?"
"When I first knew them they seemed to be all right. But he was very
jealous of her, and he had cause to be, for most of the fellows out there
were in love with her, and well, not to put too fine a point on it, she
liked it!" He hesitated. "She was rather too fond of telling people that
her husband wasn't quite kind to her."
"I think that was very natural of her!" exclaimed Jack, and Radmore felt
a surge of pity for the young fellow. Still he forced himself to go on:
"It's no use pretending. She was--and still is--a tremendous flirt."
Jack made a restless movement.
"I'm afraid you think me rather a cad for saying that, and I wouldn't say
it to anyone but you. She was bred in a bad school--brought up, so I
understood from a man who had known her as a girl, in Southsea, by a
widowed mother as pretty as herself. Her first husband--"
"But--but surely Colonel Crofton was her first husband?"
"No," again Radmore avoided looking at his companion, "she's been married
twice. Her first husband, a good-looking young chap in the 11th Hussars,
died quite soon after the marriage, the two of them having 'blued' all
they had between them. I suppose she foolishly thought there was nothing
left for it but for her to marry Colonel Crofton. And the real trouble
was that Colonel Crofton was poor. I fancy they'd have got on perfectly
well if he had had pots of money."
"I--I don't agree to that," Jack said hotly.
"I'm afraid it's true. But we really oughtn't to discuss a woman, even as
we are doing now. The only excuse is that we're both so fond of her,"
said Radmore lightly.
But even as he spoke he felt heavy-hearted. Jack Tosswill had got it very
badly, far worse than he had suspected, and somehow he didn't believe
that the medicine he had just administered had done the young man any
good.