BUGG'S STRATEGY
There was a knock outside.
"Come in," said Tony, who was arranging his tie in front of the glass.
The door opened, and Guy Oliver walked into the bedroom. He was in
evening dress, which if possible made him look more sedate than ever.
"Hullo, Guy!" said Tony; "I am afraid I am a little late. Is Cousin
Henry fuming on the mat?"
Guy shook his head. "He hasn't turned up yet: it's only just gone
half-past." He seated himself on the end of the bed. "How did you
get on at Brooklands?" he asked.
Tony stepped back from the glass and contemplated his tie with some
satisfaction.
"I had quite a cheerful day," he replied. "I managed to squeeze
eighty-six out of her, and finished up by breaking the back-axle."
Guy nodded grimly. "You will break your neck some day," he observed,
"and then I suppose you will be satisfied."
"I doubt it," said Tony; "not if our present theology is anything
approaching accurate." He picked up a dinner-jacket from the bed and
began slowly to put it on. "Besides," he added thoughtfully, "I
shouldn't like to die just yet. I think I see a chance of doing a
little good in the world."
Guy looked at him suspiciously. "Who was that girl you had to
breakfast with you?" he asked.
"Really, Guy!" said Tony, "you get more cynical every day." He
crossed to the washstand, and taking a carnation out of its glass
proceeded to arrange it in his button-hole.
"But who is she?" persisted Guy.
"She is my adopted cousin. Her name is Isabel--Isabel Francis. I
adopted her after breakfast this morning."
There was a short pause. Then in a faintly ironical voice Guy
observed: "Since she appears to be a relation of mine also, perhaps
you wouldn't mind telling me where and when you met her."
"Not in the least," said Tony imperturbably. "We met each other in
Long Acre last night at about a quarter to eleven."
"Where?" exclaimed Guy.
"Long Acre," repeated Tony. "It's a popular thoroughfare running out
of Leicester Square." He watched his cousin's face for a moment with
some enjoyment, and then added: "If you would try to look less like
the recording angel I might tell you all about it."
"Go on," said Guy.
Tony paused to light a cigarette, and then seated himself on the bed.
"It was like this," he began. "Bugg and I were coming down Long Acre
after the fight, when we saw Isabel being--being--what's the
word--'accosted' by a couple of gentlemen who looked like dressed-up
organ-grinders. As an Englishman and a baronet I thought it was my
duty to interfere.
"You would," said Guy with conviction.
"Leaving Bugg to knock down the two gentlemen," proceeded Tony
tranquilly, "I took Isabel to supper at Verrier's. We had a very
good supper. There was----"
"Never mind about the supper," interrupted Guy. "How did she come to
be having breakfast with you this morning?"
"What a dreadfully direct mind you have," complained Tony. "There is
no pleasure in telling you a story." He paused. "The fact was," he
added, "that Isabel had nowhere to sleep, so I brought her back to
Mrs. Spalding's."
"You what?" demanded Guy.
"I brought her back to Mrs. Spalding's. I couldn't very well bring
her here: I knew it would shock you. That's the worst of having a
thoughtful nature like mine."
"I say, is all this true?" asked Guy.
"Of course it is," said Tony. "Perfectly true. I couldn't invent
anything half so interesting."
"You mean to say that you picked up a girl in Long Acre, and that
you've actually brought her back and--and established her at the
Spaldings'!"
"My dear Guy!" said Tony. "Please don't talk like that. It reminds
me of one of Hall Caine's heroes." He stopped to flick the ash off
his cigarette. "You've seen Isabel. You surely don't think she is
an abandoned adventuress, do you?"
"No," said Guy. "I never suggested it: at least I never meant to.
She seemed quite a nice girl in her way, but--but--well, who is she,
and what on earth is she doing wandering about London without any
friends?"
"I don't know," said Tony. "I think she has run away from somewhere
and doesn't want to go back. The only thing I am certain about is
that she had a very extravagant great-grandmother."
Guy got up from the bed. "Well," he said, "I have seen you do some
fairly insane things in my time, but this is about the limit. Why
the girl may be anything or anybody."
"I know," interrupted Tony. "It's the uncertainty that makes it so
exciting."
"But think of the position you're putting yourself in! Suppose she
has run away from school and her parents were to trace her here, why
there would be a scandal that would ruin the family!"
"Well, what do you think I ought to do?" asked Tony. "Turn her out
again into the cold hard world?"
Guy shrugged his shoulders. "You must do what you like," he said.
"I'm not going to accept any responsibility. I have given you my
opinion, and if you don't choose----"
He was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed almost
immediately by the appearance of Spalding, who was carrying a note
upon a small silver tray. He crossed the room and proffered the
letter to Tony.
"Mr. Conway has just arrived, Sir Antony," he remarked. "He is in
the drawing-room."
"What's this?" asked Tony, picking up the note.
"I believe it is a communication from Bugg, Sir Antony. Mrs.
Spalding brought it round."
Tony turned to his cousin. "You might go down and kiss Henry, will
you, Guy?" he said. "I will be with you in a second."
Guy left the room, and tearing open the envelope, Tony took out the
letter inside. It was written in a sprawling, illiterate hand, and
beautifully innocent of either stops or capitals.
sir i and the young lady come home safe but i spotted one of them
forin blokes hanging round the corner of the street so i says to
meself I'd better stop here till i heres from you becos i think he
may be after the young lady and Mrs S. says its all rite and i can
sleep in the kitchin and hoping i done rite your obedient servent
tiger bugg the young lady didnt spot the bloke.
Tony read this interesting missive through with extreme care and then
looked up at the expressionless face of Spalding.
"For various reasons," he said, "it would be very convenient if Bugg
could sleep at your house for the next day or so. I suppose you
would have no objection if your wife approved?"
"None at all, Sir Antony," replied Spalding. "I make it a point
never to object to anything of which Mrs. Spalding approves."
Tony regarded him thoughtfully. "I should imagine you were a most
considerate husband, Spalding," he said.
"Yes, sir," said Spalding. "My wife sees to that, sir."
Folding up the note and putting it in his pocket, Tony made his way
downstairs to the drawing-room, where he found Guy in conversation
with a heavily-built, pink-faced, stolid-looking man of about forty
years of age. This was Henry Conway, a first cousin of both Tony and
Guy, and an intensely serious and painstaking member of the House of
Commons. He had married Lady Laura Crampton, the plain but
public-spirited daughter of the Earl of Kent--an alliance which had
been of considerable assistance to them both in their disinterested
efforts in behalf of the general welfare.
"Hullo, Henry," said Tony, coming forward with a well-assumed air of
pleasure. "I am so sorry to be late. How's Laura?"
Henry shook hands.
"Laura is fairly well, thank you, Tony," he replied. "I think she's
a little overtaxed her strength in working up this new league for
closing the public-houses to women, but no doubt she will soon be
herself again. Her recuperative powers are wonderful, quite
wonderful."
"I know," said Tony. "I suppose the feeling that one is promoting
the happiness of one's fellow-creatures acts as a sort of stimulus."
Henry nodded, and taking out his handkerchief blew his nose
resonantly. "If it were not for that," he observed, "the strain of
public life would at times be almost intolerable."
There was a short pause, broken by the opportune appearance of
Spalding with the announcement that dinner was ready.
Throughout the meal the conversation remained fairly general. Henry
was rich in that type of intelligence which enables its possessor to
discourse copiously and decisively upon every possible topic without
puzzling the listener by introducing subtle or original views.
Politics in some shape or other were of course his principal theme,
and in view of Guy's warning, Tony expected every moment that the
menacing question of Balham North would obtrude itself above the
horizon. Apparently, however, in Henry's opinion, the presence of
Spalding acted as a barrier, and it was not until dinner was finished
and they were sitting alone over their coffee and cigars that he
began to approach the subject which was really the cause of his visit.
"I understand," he said turning to Tony, "that Guy has more or less
acquainted you with the steps that I have been taking in your
interest."
Tony nodded. "It's exceedingly kind of you, Henry," he said. "The
only thing is I haven't quite made up my mind yet whether I have the
necessary qualifications for a successful statesman."
Henry's eyebrows contracted. "I was under the impression," he said,
"that we had already settled that part of the affair."
"You and Laura may have settled it," replied Tony. "In important
matters of this sort I always prefer a little time for reflection."
Henry pushed back his chair from the table. "And may I inquire," he
asked with an obvious attempt at irony, "what you would consider 'a
little time'? It seems to me that six years ought to be a sufficient
period in which to decide what one intends to do with one's self."
He paused. "Unless, of course, you prefer to go on doing nothing."
"Nothing!" echoed Tony reprovingly. "My dear Henry! What a way in
which to describe my multifarious activities."
With the stern self-control engendered by a public career Henry
managed to keep his temper. "I am speaking of useful and serious
work in the world," he replied. "You did your duty in the war
certainly, but since then you seem to have devoted your life entirely
to frivolous amusements."
"There is precious little frivolity about motor-racing," objected
Tony. "You should have been with me to-day when the back-axle went."
"Thank you," said Henry stiffly. "I have something better to do with
my time." He looked across at Guy. "I think you agree with me that
the manner in which Tony is wasting his life is nothing short of
deplorable."
"Certainly I do," said Guy. "I was telling him so at dinner last
night."
Henry nodded. "The whole family are of the same opinion." He turned
back to Tony. "It isn't as if you were a private individual and able
to do what you please. A great position has its obligations as well
as its privileges. The Conways have always played an important part
in public life, and as head of the family it is your duty to see that
this tradition is maintained."
Tony looked at him with a certain amount of admiration. "If I only
had your gifts, Henry," he said, "I shouldn't hesitate a moment, but
I don't believe I could ever learn to talk as you do."
Henry acknowledged the compliment with a pleased if slightly
patronizing smile. "Oh, I don't know," he observed more graciously.
"I believe you have considerable ability if you chose to exercise it.
Of course one can't expect to become a finished speaker all in a
moment, but it's wonderful what a little practice and experience will
do. Besides you would have the benefit of my advice and assistance
from the start."
"I am sure I should," said Tony, "and Laura's, too, I expect."
Henry nodded. "No one is more interested in your future than Laura
is. It was her original idea that I should bring your name forward
for Balham North. You can count on having her by your side through
the whole campaign."
"It's my belief," interrupted Guy a little hastily, "that Tony would
thoroughly enjoy an election. The element of fighting about it ought
to suit him exactly."
"I wish it was some other place than Balham North though," observed
Tony pensively. "I can't see myself saying 'Men of Balham!' with
just the proper ring that the phrase ought to have."
Henry looked at him a shade mistrustfully. "I only hope," he
replied, "that you intend to approach the matter in a serious spirit.
I have gone out of my way to put your name forward, and it might do
me a great deal of harm politically, if you choose to make a
deliberate fiasco of it."
With a reassuring smile, Tony pushed the port towards him.
"Don't you worry, Henry," he said. "When I take a thing up I always
carry it through decently and properly, don't I, Guy?"
"You carry it through, certainly," admitted the latter.
"Then I understand," said Henry refilling his glass, "that I can
inform Headquarters you are prepared to contest the seat at the next
election."
There was a short pause.
"I suppose so," said Tony. "If it will really give the family so
much pleasure I haven't the heart to refuse. I am afraid it will
mean a lot of extra work for Guy, though."
"You needn't mind about me," put in Guy unsympathetically.
"And how does one start?" asked Tony. "I have read somewhere about
people nursing a constituency. Do we have to go down and nurse
Balham?"
Henry shook his head. "There is no hurry," he said. "Sir George
Wilmer has given us a private hint that he means to retire at the
next election, but he is not going to make his intention public until
Christmas. Properly used, this time will be invaluable to you."
Tony nodded thoughtfully. "Yes," he said. "I shall enjoy a last run
round before becoming an M.P. One has got to be so devilish careful
what one does then."
"I was referring rather," said Henry with some coldness, "to the
opportunity it will afford you of preparing yourself for your new
position. If you choose to work hard you might by that time have put
yourself in the way of becoming a useful and desirable acquisition to
the House."
"Why, of course," said Tony. "I never thought of looking at it like
that." He paused. "What would you advise me to work at?"
"If I were you," said Henry, "I should take up some special
subject--it doesn't much matter what it is--foreign affairs,
temperance, agriculture--anything which is frequently before the
House. Make yourself more or less of an authority on that, and then
you will have a recognized position from the very start." He stopped
to consult his watch. "I am afraid I shall have to be going," he
added. "I have promised to look in and say a few words to the West
Hampstead Anti-Vivisection League, who are holding their annual
meeting to-night, and it's getting on for ten o'clock now." He got
up and held out a large, white, soft hand, which Tony accepted with a
certain physical reluctance that hands of that sort always inspired
in him.
"I am pleased--very pleased," continued Henry, "that you are at last
beginning to realize the responsibilities of your position. When the
time comes you may rest assured that Laura and I will give you any
assistance in our power. In the meantime, if you want any advice
about what to read or study, you can't do better than to talk it over
with Guy."
Tony nodded again. "I expect we shall have lots of interesting chats
together," he said.
He rang the bell for Henry's car, and accompanying his cousin into
the hall, helped him on with his coat. They stood talking in the
doorway until a well-appointed Daimler brougham rolled up noiselessly
to the porch, and then with another handshake and a final good-night
Tony returned to the dining-room.
He sat down heavily in his lately vacated chair. "If you have any
real love for me, Guy," he said, "you will pass me the brandy."
Guy handed across a delicately shaped old Venetian decanter, out of
which Tony helped himself in generous fashion.
"If I had an inn," he observed, "I should pay Henry to sit in the bar
parlour and talk about politics. I am sure he would drive the
customers to drink."
In spite of himself Guy smiled. "I think you are very unfair and
very ungrateful," he replied serenely. "Henry may be a little
pompous at times, but after all he means well, and he has your best
interests at heart."
Tony lit himself another cigar. "All my relations have," he said,
"and the worst of it is, it's such a horribly infectious complaint.
If I am not uncommonly careful I shall be catching it myself."
"You have managed to resist it pretty successfully so far," observed
Guy drily.
"I know," said Tony, "but that doesn't make me feel really safe.
There is a sort of natural tendency to take one's self seriously in
the Conway blood, and you can never be certain it won't suddenly come
bursting out. I shouldn't be in the least surprised if I finished up
by getting the Victorian Order, and the freedom of Manchester."
"I suppose you do really mean to stand?" said Guy after a short pause.
"I suppose so," replied Tony. "I think I would agree to do anything
rather than argue with Henry."
He pushed back his chair and finishing off the brandy in his glass,
rose to his feet.
"Going out?" asked Guy.
Tony nodded. "Just for a few minutes. It's a very important step in
one's life to become a member of Parliament--especially for Balham
North. I am going to have a little quiet meditation beneath the
stars."
Guy looked at him disbelievingly. "Umph!" he observed, and taking
out his favourite after-dinner smoke--a short, well-seasoned briar
pipe, began methodically to fill it from his pouch.
Leaving him to this innocent luxury, Tony crossed the hall, and
without troubling to pick up a hat sauntered leisurely out of the
house and down the drive. It was a perfect night. Under a sky of
inky blue, powdered with stars, the Heath lay dark and silent, as if
dreaming regretfully of those far gone spacious times when the
mounted highwaymen lurked amongst its bushes.
The only people who lurked there at present were much too occupied
with each other to pay any attention to Tony. With his cigar glowing
pleasantly in the darkness he strolled slowly across the grass in the
direction of the water-works, which stood up in a clear-cut, black
mass against the clearness of the night sky.
A few yards further brought him to the end of the quiet road in which
the Spaldings' house was situated. It was overshadowed by trees, but
in the light of a street lamp some little way down, he caught sight
of a solitary, bare-headed figure leaning over one of the front
gates. Even at that distance he could recognize the familiar
features of "Tiger" Bugg.
As Tony came up, the future world's champion lifted the latch, and
stepped out noiselessly on to the pavement to meet him.
"I guessed it was you, sir," he observed in a low voice. "You didn't
'appen to spot no one 'angin' abaht under them trees as you come
along?"
Tony shook his head, and seated himself on the low wall with his back
to the railings. "No, Bugg," he said. "The road seemed to me
distinctly empty."
Under the lamp-light, "Tiger's" face assumed an expression of
disappointment. "Ah!" he remarked, "I reckon they've spotted I'm
layin' for 'em arter all." He paused. "You got my letter, sir?"
"Yes, thank you, Bugg," said Tony. "I want you to tell me all about
it."
"I don't know as there's very much to tell, sir," responded Bugg
modestly. "It was like this 'ere, sir. The young laidy done 'er
shopping nice and comf'table, and there 'adn't bin no sign of any one
'anging arahnd or wantin' to maike trouble. We wos comin' back in
the car and I was just thinkin' to meself as things was all right,
w'en Jennings swung 'er a bit lively rahnd that bottom corner
there,"--he jerked his thumb away down the road--"and all of a sudden
I seed a 'ead dodgin' back be'ind one o' them big trees. 'E was
quick, but 'e weren't quite quick enough for me. I knew 'is dirty
faice the moment I set me eyes on it. It was the other Daigo--the
one that copped a shove in the jaw last night and done a buck w'en
the rozzers come."
"You don't think Miss Francis saw him?" interrupted Tony.
Bugg shook his head. "No one seen 'im except me, sir; and I didn't
say nothin', not bein' wishful to frighten the young laidy. Besides,
it come into me 'ead wot you'd said abaht leadin' 'em on like, so I
jest sits w'ere I was till we reaches the 'ouse, an' then I gets out
an' goes inside saime as if I 'adn't seen nothing. I 'ope I done
right, sir?"
"Sherlock Holmes couldn't have done righter," observed Tony. "I
wonder how the devil they've found out the house though."
Bugg scratched his ear. "Well, sir, I bin thinkin 'it over like,
sir, and I reckon they must ha' followed me this mornin', w'en I come
up from the Court."
Tony looked at him admiringly. "Bugg," he said, "you are growing
positively brilliant. I have no doubt that's the correct
explanation. They were probably hanging about outside Goodman's Rest
and saw Miss Francis come back here in the car." He paused and took
a thoughtful draw at his cigar. "I suppose they're waiting for a
chance to get her alone again."
Bugg nodded. "That's abaht it, sir; and that's w'y I thought I'd
best stop on 'ere. I see Mrs. Spalding knew something o' wot was up,
so I gives 'er the orfice straight abaht 'avin' spotted the bloke
be'ind the tree, and she suggests as I should write to you an' she'll
taike the letter rahnd." He cleared his throat, and expectorated in
the gutter. "And that's 'ow things are, sir, in a manner o'
speaking."
Tony knocked the ash off his cigar and got up from his seat.
"I am vastly obliged to you, Bugg," he said. "You are an ideal
secretary for a knight errant." He looked up at the house, the
windows of which were in darkness. "Have they gone to bed?" he asked.
"I think the young laidy's turned in, sir," replied Bugg. "I reckon
she was tired buyin' all them 'ats and things. Mrs. Spalding's
abaht, if ye'd like to see 'er, sir."
He opened the gate for Tony, and they walked up the narrow cobbled
path which led to the house. The front door was ajar, and just as
they entered Mrs. Spalding appeared in the passage, with a can of hot
water in her hand. She put it down on seeing Tony, and with her
usual air of slightly flustered deference, opened the door of
Isabel's sitting-room, and invited him to "step inside."
"I am not going to keep you up, Mrs. Spalding," he said cheerfully.
"I only came round in answer to Bugg's letter. It struck me that you
might possibly be feeling a little nervous, and I shouldn't like to
think that you were being worried in any way about my affairs."
His consideration evidently touched Mrs. Spalding deeply.
"Oh, please to put your mind at ease about that, Sir Antony," she
observed. "As long as Bugg's on the premises it doesn't frighten me
if people choose to hang about outside the house."
"Of course," said Tony, pursuing his advantage, "if you would rather,
I could probably arrange to get rooms for Miss Francis somewhere
else. The only thing is her guardian would most certainly find out,
and Heaven knows what might happen to her then!"
The good woman made a gesture of protest. "You mustn't think of it,
Sir Antony," she declared. "I wouldn't never forgive myself if that
sweet young lady was got back by them foreigners. I've taken a rare
liking to her, Sir Antony, and it's an honour and a pleasure to be of
any assistance. I was saying as much to Spalding to-night, an' he
agreed with me every word."
Tony launched an inward blessing on Spalding's philosophic theories
about matrimonial happiness.
"Well, if you both feel like that," he said, "I shall go on taking
advantage of your kindness. It won't be for long, because Miss
Francis' aunt is bound to be coming back soon. In the
meanwhile,"--he turned to include Bugg, who, with his usual tact, had
remained modestly on the doorstep, "we will soon put a stop to this
spying business. I am not going to have dirty looking people popping
in and out behind trees anywhere near my house. The rates are much
too high to put up with that sort of thing." He stopped to take
another puff at his cigar, which he had nearly allowed to go out. "I
suppose Miss Francis has gone to bed?" he asked.
Mrs. Spalding nodded. "It's what you might call tiring
work--shopping is, Sir Antony, especially when a young lady's used to
having most things done for her, as I can see Miss Francis is." She
paused. "I was just taking her up some hot water when you came in,"
she added.
"Really," said Tony; "well, we mustn't keep it waiting about or it
will be losing its character." He turned towards the door. "By the
way," he added, "you might tell Miss Francis that if she would care
for a motor drive to-morrow I should be delighted to take her. I
daresay she will be coming round in the morning and we can fix up the
time then."
Mrs. Spalding promised to deliver the message, and wishing her
good-night, Tony sauntered off down the drive, with his hand on
Bugg's shoulder. They came to a halt at the gate.
"It's an undignified position for the future champion of England to
be acting as a watch-dog, Bugg," he said, "but having put our hands
to the plough--" He broke off and remained for a moment or two
thoughtfully contemplating the star-spangled stretch of firmament
which was visible between the trees.
With an expression of patient interest, Bugg waited for him to
continue.
"Let us summarize the situation, Bugg," he said gravely. "Then we
shall know exactly where we are." He paused. "For some reason,
which I don't understand any more than you do at present, those two
gentlemen we had the pleasure of introducing ourselves to in Long
Acre appear to be very anxious to meet Miss Francis alone. Well, she
doesn't want to be met, and considering their faces I sympathize with
her taste. That's all we know, and until we can find out something
more there doesn't seem very much to be done. We must just keep Miss
Francis properly watched and guarded, and see if we can pick up any
information about our pals outside." He paused again. "I think it's
just on the cards we might have a little quiet fun with them before
long, Bugg," he added pensively.
Bugg gave an appreciative grin and nodded his head. "You can leave
the watchin' and guardin' part to me, sir. They won't get no talk
with the young laidy--not while she's in this 'ouse."
"I believe you, Bugg," said Tony, "and to-morrow morning, when she
comes to Goodman's Rest, you might walk across the Heath with her."
He opened the gate and stepped out on to the pavement. "Good-night,"
he added. "I shall go back to bed now. To be really successful as a
knight errant one requires plenty of sleep."
"Yes, sir," said Bugg. "Good-night, sir."
It was exactly a quarter to eleven by the big oak clock in the hall
when Tony re-entered his house. He shut the front door behind him,
and walking across looked into the dining-room and study to see if
Guy were still up. Both rooms were empty, and he was just on the
point of going upstairs when the silence of the house was suddenly
broken by the sharp, aggressive ringing of a bell.
It came from the telephone which hung beside the mantelpiece on the
further side of the hall.