LIKE A FAIRY STORY
There was a short pause, and then the shorter of the two men stepped
forward. He was an aggressive looking person with a cast in his eye,
and he spoke with a slight foreign accent.
"Sir," he said, "you are making a mistake. We do not intend any
insult to this lady. We are indeed her best friends. If you will be
good enough to withdraw----"
With the gleam of battle in his eye, Bugg ranged up alongside the
speaker, and tapped him on the elbow.
"'Ere!" he observed. "You 'eard wot the guv'nor said, didn't you?"
He jerked his thumb over his left shoulder. "'Op it before you get
'urt."
Tony turned to the girl. "You mustn't be mixed up in a street
fight," he said. "If you will allow me to see you to a taxi, my
friend here will prevent these unpleasant looking people from
following us."
He offered her his arm, and after a second's hesitation she laid a
small gloved hand upon his sleeve.
"It is very kind of you," she faltered. "I fear I am going to give
you a great deal of trouble."
"Not a bit," replied Tony. "I love interfering in other people's
affairs."
With a swift stride the cross-eyed gentleman thrust himself across
their path.
"No, no!" he exclaimed vehemently. "You must not listen to this man.
You----"
With a powerful thrust of his disengaged arm Tony sent him staggering
back to the edge of the pavement, where he stumbled over the curb and
sat down heavily in the gutter.
His companion, seeing his fall, gave a guttural cry of anger and
lifting the light stick that he was carrying lashed out savagely at
Bugg. As coolly as if he were in the ring the latter ducked under
the blow, and coming up with a beautiful straight left knocked his
assailant spinning against the lamp-post.
[Illustration: Tony sent the fellow staggering back to the edge of
the pavement. His companion lashed out savagely at Bugg. The latter
ducked under the blow, and coming up with a beautiful straight left,
knocked his assailant spinning. Tony turned again to the girl. "I
am afraid we must tear ourselves away," he remarked. "We shall have
half London here in a moment."]
Tony turned again to the girl at his side. "I am afraid we must tear
ourselves away," he remarked. "We shall have half London here in a
moment."
Already from down the street came the shrill blast of a whistle,
followed a moment later by the sound of running footsteps. Heedless
of these warnings the two strangers, now apparently reckless with
fury, were collecting themselves for a fresh attack.
"Keep them busy, Bugg," said Tony quietly; and the next instant he
and the girl were hurrying along the pavement in the direction of
Martin's Lane. That fairly prosperous thoroughfare was only a few
yards' distant, but before they could reach it the sounds of a
magnificent tumult broke out again behind them. The girl glanced
nervously over her shoulder, and her grip on Tony's arm tightened.
"Oh!" she gasped, "oughtn't we to go back? Your friend will be hurt!"
Tony laughed reassuringly. "If any one's hurt," he observed, "it's
much more likely to be one of the other gentlemen."
They rounded the corner, and as they did so a disengaged taxi came
bowling opportunely up the street. Tony signalled to the driver to
stop.
"Here we are!" he said.
A look of frightened dismay leaped suddenly into his companion's
pretty face.
"What's the matter?" asked Tony.
"I--I forgot," she stammered. "I can't take a taxi. I--I haven't
any money with me."
There was a moment's pause, while the driver bent forward from his
box listening with interest to the spirited echoes from Long Acre.
"That's all right," remarked Tony. "We will talk about it in the
cab." He turned to the driver. "Take us to Verrier's," he said. It
was the first place that happened to come into his head.
The man jerked his head in the direction of the noise. "Bit of a
scrap on from the sound of it, sir!" he observed.
Tony nodded. "Yes," he said regretfully, "it's a quarrelsome world."
He helped his companion into the taxi, and then following himself,
shut the door. The vehicle started off with a jerk, and as it swung
round the corner into Coventry Street, its occupants were able to
catch a momentary glimpse of the spot they had so recently quitted.
It appeared to be filled by a small but animated crowd, in the centre
of which a cluster of whirling figures was distinctly visible. Tony
heard the girl beside him give a faint gasp of dismay.
"It's all right," he said. "Bugg's used to fighting. He likes it."
She looked up at him anxiously. "He is a soldier?" she asked, in
that soft attractive voice of hers.
Tony suppressed a laugh just in time. "Something of the sort," he
answered. Then with a pleasant feeling that the whole adventure was
becoming rather interesting he added: "I say, I have told the man to
drive us to Verrier's. I hope if you aren't in a hurry you will be
charitable and join me in a little supper--will you? I'm simply
starving."
By the light of a passing street lamp he suddenly caught sight of the
troubled expression that had come into her eyes.
"Do just what you like, of course," he added quickly. "If you would
rather I drove you straight home----"
"As a matter of fact," said the girl with a sort of desperate
calmness. "I haven't a home to go to."
There was another brief pause. "Well, in that case," remarked Tony
cheerfully, "there is no possible objection to our having a little
supper--is there?"
For a moment she stared out of the window without replying. It was
plain that she was the prey of several contradictory emotions, of
which a vague restless fear seemed to be the most prominent.
"I don't know what to do," she said unhappily. "You are very kind,
but----"
"There is only one possible thing to do," interrupted Tony firmly,
"and that is to come to Verrier's. We can discuss the next step when
we get there."
Even as he spoke the taxi swerved across the road, and drew up in
front of the famous underground restaurant.
Before getting out the girl threw a quick hunted glance from side to
side of the street. "Do you think either of those men have followed
us?" she whispered.
Tony shook his head comfortingly. "From what I know of Bugg," he
said, "I should regard it as highly improbable."
He settled up with the driver, and then strolling across the
pavement, rejoined the girl, who was waiting for him just outside the
entrance. She had evidently made a great effort to recover her
self-composure, for she looked up at him with a brave if slightly
forced smile.
"I must make myself tidy," she said, "if you won't mind waiting a
minute. I am simply not fit to be seen."
The statement appeared to be exaggerated to Tony, but he allowed it
to pass unchallenged.
"Please don't hurry," he said. "I want to use the telephone, and if
I finish first I can brood over what we'll have for supper."
She smiled again--this time more naturally, and taking the
dressing-bag that he had been carrying for her, disappeared into the
cloak-room. Tony abandoned his hat and coat to a waiter, and then
sauntering forward, entered the restaurant.
The moment he appeared the manager, who was standing on the other
side of the room, hastened across to greet him.
"Bon soir, Sir Antony," he observed with that dazzling smile of
welcome that managers only produce for their most wealthy customers.
"May I 'ave ze pleasiare of finding you a table."
Tony nodded indulgently. "You may, Gustave," he said: "A table for
two with flowers on it, and as far away from the band as possible."
He paused. "Also," he added, "I want a really nice little supper.
Something with imagination about it. The sort of supper that you
would offer to an angel if you unexpectedly found one with an
appetite."
The manager bowed with a gesture of perfect comprehension.
"And while you are wrestling with the problem," said Tony, "I should
like to use the telephone if I may."
He was shown into the private office, where, in response to polite
and repeated requests, a lady at the Exchange eventually found
leisure to connect him with Shepherd's Oyster Bar.
"Is Mr. 'Tiger' Bugg there?" he inquired.
The man who had answered the call departed to have a look round, and
then returned with the information that so far Mr. Bugg had not put
in an appearance.
"Well, if he does come," said Tony, "will you tell him for me--Sir
Antony Conway--that I shall not be able to join him. He can pick up
the car at the R.A.C."
The man promised to deliver the message, and ringing off, Tony
strolled back through the restaurant to the place where he had parted
from his charming if slightly mysterious companion. He met her just
coming out of the cloak-room.
"Oh, I hope I haven't kept you very long," she said penitently.
Tony looked down into the clear amber eyes that were turned up to his
own, and thought that she was even prettier than he had at first
imagined.
"I have only just this moment finished telephoning," he said. "The
Central Exchange are like the gods. They never hurry."
She laughed softly, and then, as the waiter on duty opened the door
with a low bow, they walked forward into the restaurant.
M. Gustave, more affable than ever, came up to conduct them to their
table.
At the sight of the charming arrangement in maidenhair and narcissi
which decorated the centre, the girl gave a little exclamation of
pleasure.
"But how beautiful!" she said. "I never knew English restaurants----"
She stopped short as though she suddenly thought the remark were
better unfinished.
Tony took no notice of her slight embarrassment. "I am glad you like
flowers," he said. "It's such a nice primitive, healthy taste.
Since Mr. Chamberlain died I believe I am the only person in London
who still wears a button-hole."
They sat down on opposite sides of the table, and for the first time
he was able to enjoy a complete and leisurely survey of his companion.
She was younger than he had thought at first--a mere girl of
seventeen or eighteen--with the complexion of a wild rose, and the
lithe, slender figure of a forest dryad. It was her red hair and the
little firm, delicately moulded chin which gave her that curious
superficial resemblance to Molly which had originally attracted his
attention. He saw now that there were several differences between
them--one of the most noticeable being the colour of their eyes.
Molly's were blue--blue as the sky, while this girl's were of clear
deep amber, like the water of some still pool in the middle of a
moorland stream.
What charmed him most of all, however, was the faint air of sensitive
pride that hung about her like some fragrant perfume. Although
obviously frightened and apparently in a very awkward predicament,
she was yet facing the situation with nervous thoroughbred courage
that filled Tony with admiration.
One thing struck him as rather incongruous. She had said she had no
money, and yet even to his masculine eyes it was quite clear that the
clothes she was wearing, though simple in appearance, could have been
made by a most expensive dressmaker. On the little finger of her
left hand he also noticed a sapphire and diamond ring which if real
must be of considerable value. All this combined to fill him with an
agreeable and stimulating curiosity.
"I hope you are feeling none the worse for our wild adventures," he
said, as the waiter withdrew, after handing them the first course.
She shook her head. "You have been extraordinarily kind," she said
in a low voice. "I have a great deal to thank you for. I--I hardly
know how to begin."
"Well, suppose we begin by introducing ourselves," he suggested
cheerfully. "My name is Conway--Sir Antony Conway. My more intimate
friends are occasionally permitted to call me Tony."
She hesitated a second before replying. "My name is Isabel," she
said. "Isabel Francis," she added a little lamely.
"I shall call you 'Isabel' if I may," said Tony. "'Miss Francis'
sounds so unromantic after the thrilling way in which we became
friends."
He paused until the waiter, who had bustled up again with a bottle of
champagne had filled their respective glasses and retired.
"And as we have become friends," he continued, "don't you think you
can tell me how you have managed to get yourself into this--what
shall we call it--scrape? I am not asking just out of mere
curiosity. I should like to help you if I can. You see I am always
in scrapes myself, so I might be able to give you some good advice."
The gleam of fun in his eyes, and the friendly way in which he spoke,
seemed to take away much of his companion's nervousness. She sipped
her champagne, looking at him over the top of the glass with a
simple, almost childish gratitude.
"You have been kind and nice," she said frankly. "I don't know what
I should have done if you hadn't been there." She put down her
glass. "You see," she went on in a slower and more hesitating way,
"I--I came up to London this evening to stay with an old governess of
mine who has a flat in Long Acre. When I got there I found she had
gone away, and then I didn't know what to do, because I hadn't
brought any money with me."
"Wasn't she expecting you?" asked Tony.
Miss "Isabel Francis" shook her head. "No-o," she admitted. "You
see I hadn't time to write and tell her I was coming." She paused.
"I--I left home rather in a hurry," she added naïvely.
Tony leaned back in his chair and looked at her with a smile. He was
enjoying himself immensely.
"And our two yellow-faced friends in evening-dress," he asked. "Were
they really old acquaintances of yours?"
The frightened, hunted look flashed back into her eyes. "No, no,"
she said quickly. "I had never seen them before in my life. I had
just left the flats when they came up and spoke to me. They were
both strangers--quite absolutely strangers."
She spoke eagerly, as though specially anxious that her words should
carry conviction, but somehow or other Tony felt a little sceptical.
He couldn't forget the fierce persistence of the two men, which
seemed quite out of keeping with the idea that they had been
interrupted in a mere piece of wanton impertinence. Besides, if what
she said about them were true it would hardly account for her
unreasoning terror that they might have followed her to the
restaurant. Being polite by nature, however, he was careful to show
no sign of doubting her statement.
He allowed the waiter to help them both to some attractive looking
mystery in aspic, and then, when they were again alone, he leaned
forward and observed with sympathy:
"Well, I'm glad we happened to roll up at the right time. It's
always jolly to give that sort of gentlemen a lesson in manners." He
paused. "Have you made any kind of plans about what you are going to
do next?"
She shook her head. "I--I haven't quite decided," she said. "I
suppose I must find some place to stay at until Miss Watson comes
back."
"How long will that be?"
"I don't know. You see she has just gone away and shut up the flat,
and left no address."
"Haven't you any other friends in London?"
She shook her head again. "Nobody," she said, "at least nobody who
could help me." Then she hesitated. "I have lived in Paris nearly
all my life," she added by way of explanation.
There was a brief silence.
"If you will forgive my mentioning such a sordid topic," remarked
Tony pleasantly, "what do you propose to do about money?"
"I can get some money to-morrow," she answered. "I can sell some
jewellery--this ring for instance--and there are other things in my
bag."
"And to-night?"
She glanced round rather desperately. "I don't know. I must go
somewhere. I was thinking that perhaps I could sit in one of the
churches--or there might be a convent--" She broke off with a little
glance, as if appealing to Tony for his advice.
"Why not go to a hotel?" he suggested. "If you will allow me, I will
lend you some money, and you can pay me back when it's convenient."
She flushed slightly. "Oh!" she stammered, "you are so kind.
Perhaps if I could find some quite quiet place--" She stopped again,
but looking at her, Tony could see the old hunted expression still
lurking in her eyes. Somehow he felt certain that she was thinking
about the two strangers.
A sudden brilliant idea suggested itself to him. "Look here!" he
exclaimed. "How would this do? My butler's wife--Mrs. Spalding--has
got a small house just off Heath Street, Hampstead. I know she lets
rooms and I am pretty nearly sure that just at present there is no
one there. Why shouldn't we run up in the car and have a look at the
place? She could fix you up for the night anyway, and if you find
you like it you can stay on there till your Miss--Miss Thingumbob
comes back."
A naturally distrustful nature was evidently not one of Isabel's
characteristics, for she received the proposal with the most frank
and genuine gratitude.
"Oh!" she cried, "that would be nice! But won't she be asleep by
now?"
"It doesn't matter if she is," said Tony tranquilly. "We will pick
up Spalding on the way and take him round with us to rout her out.
If she feels peevish at being waked up, she can let the steam off on
him first."
He beckoned to the waiter and asked that accomplished henchman to
ring up the R.A.C. and instruct Jennings to bring the car round to
Verrier's.
"And find out," he added, "whether 'Tiger' Bugg has turned up there
or not."
The waiter departed on his mission, coming back in a few minutes with
the information that the car would be round at once, and that so far
Mr. 'Tiger' Bugg had neither been seen nor heard of.
"I wonder where he can be," said Tony to his companion. "He can't
possibly have taken all this time to slaughter a couple of dagoes. I
am afraid the police must have interfered."
The suggestion seemed to fill Isabel with a certain amount of dismay.
"The police!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands. "Oh, but I hope
not. He is so brave he would have fought with them, and perhaps they
may have killed him."
The picture of a desperately resisting Bugg being hacked to pieces on
the pavement by infuriated bobbies appealed hugely to Tony's sense of
humour.
"I don't think it's likely," he said in a reassuring tone. "The
English police as a whole are very good-natured. They seldom take
life except in self-defence."
He added one or two other items of information with regard to Bugg's
hardihood and fertility of resource, which seemed to comfort Isabel,
and then, with the latter's permission, he lighted a cigarette and
called for his bill.
He was just settling it when news came that the car had arrived. He
instructed the waiter to place Isabel's bag inside, and then bidding
good-night to the bowing and valedictory M. Gustave, they walked
upstairs to the entrance.
They found the big gleaming Rolls-Royce drawn up by the curb with
Jennings standing in a joyless attitude at the door. When his glance
fell on Isabel he looked more pessimistic than ever.
"Any news of Bugg?" inquired Tony.
The chauffeur shook his head. "Not a word, sir."
"I left a message at Shepherd's that he was to come and pick you up
at the Club. I wonder what's happened to him."
For a moment Jennings brooded darkly over the problem. "Perhaps he
got some internal injury in the fight and was took sudden with it in
the street," he suggested. "I could run round the 'orspitals and
make inquiries if you wished, sir?"
"Thank you, Jennings," said Tony. "You are very helpful; but I think
I should prefer to go back to Hampstead."
"Just as you please, sir," observed Jennings indifferently.
He closed the door after them, and then mounting the driving-seat,
started off along Piccadilly.
Isabel, who had again cast a quick glance out of each window, turned
to Tony with a smile.
"He doesn't seem a very cheerful man, your chauffeur," she said. "He
has got such a sad voice."
Tony nodded. "That's the reason I originally engaged him. I like to
have a few miserable people about the place: they help me to realize
how happy I am myself."
Isabel laughed merrily. The solution of her difficulties in the way
of a lodging seemed to have taken an immense weight off her spirits,
and in the agreeably shaded light of the big limousine she looked
younger and prettier than ever. So far his new adventure struck Tony
as being quite the most interesting and promising he had ever
embarked on.
As the car glided on through the depressing architecture of Camden
Town he began to tell her in a cheerful inconsequent sort of fashion
something about his house and general surroundings. She listened
with the utmost interest, the whole thing evidently striking her as
being highly novel and entertaining.
"And do you live quite by yourself?" she asked.
"Quite," said Tony. "Except for Spalding and Jennings and Bugg and a
cook and two or three maid-servants and dear old Guy!"
"Who's Guy?" she demanded.
"Guy," he said, "can be best described as being Guy. In addition to
that he is also my cousin and my secretary."
"Your secretary?" she repeated. "Why, what does he do?"
"His chief occupation is doing my tenants," said Tony. "In his spare
time he gives me good advice which I never follow. You must come to
breakfast to-morrow and make his acquaintance."
The car turned in at the drive gates of "Goodman's Rest," which was
the felicitous name that Tony had selected for his house, and drew up
outside the front entrance.
"I will just see if Spalding has gone to bed," he said to Isabel.
"If not it's hardly worth while your getting out."
He opened the door with his key and entering the hall, which was
lighted softly by concealed electric lamps, pressed a bell alongside
the fireplace. Almost immediately a door swung open at the back and
Spalding appeared on the threshold.
"Good," said Tony, "I thought you might have turned in."
"I was about to do so, Sir Antony," replied Spalding impassively.
"May I mention how pleased we all were at the news of Bugg's success."
"Oh, you have heard about it!" remarked Tony. "Is Bugg back then?"
"No, sir. I took the liberty of ringing up the Cosmopolitan. The
Cook had a half-crown on, sir, and she was almost painfully anxious
to ascertain the result."
Tony nodded his approval. "After the way she grilled that sole
to-night," he said, "I would deny her nothing." He paused.
"Spalding," he added: "are you frightened of your wife?"
"No, sir," replied Spalding. "At least not more than most husbands,
sir."
"Well, I want you to come and act as my ambassador. There is a young
lady in the motor outside who is in need of somewhere to sleep and
some kind and sensible person to look after her. I know Mrs.
Spalding lets rooms, and although it's rather a queer time of night
to receive a new lodger, I thought that if you came and put the case
to her tactfully, she might stretch a point to oblige me."
Spalding's face remained beautifully expressionless. "I am sure my
wife would do anything to oblige you, sir," he observed. "If you
will excuse my saying so, you stand very high in her good opinion,
sir."
"Indeed!" said Tony. "I am afraid you must be an extraordinarily
deceitful husband, Spalding."
The butler bowed. "I make a point, sir, of only repeating incidents
which seem to me likely to appeal to her."
"A very excellent habit," said Tony gravely. "Get on your hat and
coat, and we will see how it works out in practice."
A few minutes later, with Spalding sitting on the front seat
alongside of Jennings, they were retracing their way across the
Heath. On reaching the main thoroughfare they turned up one of the
little steep streets that run off to the right, and came to a halt in
front of an old-fashioned row of small white houses, standing back
behind narrow slips of garden.
Spalding opened the gate for them, and then leading the way up the
path, let them in at the front door with a latch-key. A feeble
flicker of gas was burning in the hall.
"If you will wait in here, sir," he observed, opening a door on the
right, "I will go upstairs and acquaint my wife with your arrival."
The room he showed them into, though small in size and simply
furnished, was a remarkably pleasant little apartment. In the first
place, everything was scrupulously clean, and the general impression
of cheerful freshness was heightened by a couple of bowls of
hyacinths in full bloom which stood on a table in the window.
"How does this appeal to the taste of Isabel?" inquired Tony,
lighting himself another cigarette.
"Why it's charming!" she exclaimed. "I shall be so happy if I can
stay here. It all seems so free and lovely after--" she checked
herself--"after where I have been living," she finished.
"Well, I hope it will all be up to sample," said Tony, "I can't
imagine Spalding being content with anything second rate--at least
judging by his taste in wine and cigars." He paused. "What time
would you like breakfast in the morning?"
"Breakfast?" she repeated.
"I always call it breakfast," explained Tony. "It is such a much
healthier sounding word than lunch. Suppose I send the car round for
you about eleven? Would that be too early?"
She shook her head, smiling. "I expect I could manage it," she said.
"You see I generally get up at eight o'clock."
"We could have it a little earlier if you like," remarked Tony
unselfishly.
"Oh, no," she answered. "I shall probably enjoy lying in bed
to-morrow." Then with a little laugh she added: "But surely I can
walk round. It's quite a short distance isn't it, and all across the
nice Heath?"
"Just as you like," said Tony. "I shall send the car any way. The
morning air is so good for Jennings."
As he spoke there was a sound of footsteps on the stairs, and a
moment later Spalding re-entered the room.
"My wife asks me to say, sir, that she will be very pleased to make
the young lady as comfortable as possible. She is coming downstairs
herself as soon as we have withdrawn. Owing to the lateness of the
hour she is slightly--h'm--_en déshabillé_."
"We will retire in good order," said Tony gravely. Then as Spalding
tactfully left the room he turned to Isabel.
"Good-night, Isabel," he said. "Sleep peacefully, and don't dream
that you are being chased by yellow-faced strangers."
She gave him her little slim cool hand, and he raised it lightly to
his lips.
"Good-night," she answered, "and thank you, thank you again so much."
Then she paused. "It's just like a fairy story, isn't it?" she added.
"Just," said Tony with enthusiasm.