The black moth

TheBlackMoth
ARomanceoftheXVIIICentury
ByGeorgetteHeyer
BostonandNewYork
HoughtonMifflinCompany
1921
FirstPublished,1921.
PrintedinGreatBritain.
CONTENTS.


PROLOGUE
I.ATTHECHEQUERSINN,FALLOWFIELD
II.MYLORDATTHEWHITEHART
III.INTRODUCINGTHEHON.RICHARDCARSTARES
IV.INTRODUCINGTHELADYLAVINIACARSTARES
V.HISGRACEOFANDOVER
VI.BATH:29QUEENSQUARE
VII.INTRODUCINGSUNDRYNEWCHARACTERS
VIII.THEBITERBIT
IXLADYO’HARAINTERVENES
XLADYO’HARARETIRES
XI.MYLORDTURNSRESCUERANDCOMESNIGHENDINGHIS
LIFE
XII.MYLORDDICTATESALETTERANDRECEIVESAVISITOR
XIII.MYLORDMAKESHISBOW
XIV.MISTRESSDIANAISUNMAIDENLY
XV.O’HARA’SMINDISMADEUP
XVI.MR.BETTISONPROPOSES
XVII.LADYO’HARAWINSHERPOINT

XVIII.ENTERCAPTAINHAROLDLOVELACE


XIX.THEREAPPEARANCEOFHISGRACEOFANDOVER
XX.HISGRACEOFANDOVERTAKESAHANDINTHEGAME
XXI.MRS.FANSHAWELIGHTSAFIREANDO’HARAFANSTHE
FLAME
XXII.DEVELOPMENTS
XXIII.LADYLAVINIAGOESTOTHEPLAY
XXIV.RICHARDPLAYSTHEMAN
XXV.HISGRACEOFANDOVERCAPTURESTHEQUEEN
XXVI.MYLORDRIDESTOFRUSTRATEHISGRACE
XXVII.MYLORDENTERSBYTHEWINDOW
XXVIII.INWHICHWHATTHREATENEDTOBETRAGEDYTURNSTO
COMEDY
XXIX.LADYO’HARAISTRIUMPHANT


EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE
CLADinhiscustomaryblackandsilver,withravenhairunpowderedand
elaboratelydressed,diamondsonhisfingersandinhiscravat,HughTracyClare
Belmanoir,DukeofAndover,satattheescritoireinthelibraryofhistown
house,writing.
Heworenorougeonhisface,thealmostunnaturalpallorofwhichseemed
designedlyenhancedbyapatchsetbeneathhisrighteye.Browsandlasheswere
black,theformerslantingslightlyupatthecorners,buthisnarrow,heavy-lidded
eyesweregreenandstrangelypiercing.Thethinlipscurledalittle,sneering,as
onedead-whitehandtravelledtoandfroacrossthepaper.
“…butitseemsthattheFairLadyhasaBrother,who,findingMeEnamoured,

threwdowntheGauntlet.IsoundlywhiptthepresumptuousChild,andsothe
Affairends.Now,asyou,MydearFrank,alsotooksomeInteresttintheLady,I
writefortheExpressPurposeofinformingYouthatatmyHandsshehas
receivednoHurt,norisnotliketo.ThisIinparttellYouthatYoushallnot
imagineYrselfinHonorboundagaintocallMeout,whichPurpose,anI
mistakenot,IyesterdayreadinYrEyes.IshouldbeExceedinglothtomeetYou
aSecondTime,whenIshouldconsideritmyDutytoteachYouanevenseverer
LessonthanBefore.ThisIamnotWishfulofdoingfortheLikingIbearYou.
“SoinallFriendshipbelieveme,Frank,
“YourmostObedient,Humble
“DEVIL.”
HisGraceofAndoverpaused,penheldinmid-air.Amockingsmiledawnedin
hiseyes,andhewroteagain.
“IntheeventofanyDesireonYrParttohazardYrLuckwithmylateParamour,
PermitMetowarnYou‘gainsttheBantamBrother,whoisinVeryTruthaFireEater,andwouldwishtomakeofYou,asofMe,oneMouthfull.Ishallhopeto
seeYouattheQueensberryRoutonThursdaywhenYoumayOnceMorestrive


todirectmineErringFootstepsontotheThornyPathofVirtue.”
HisGracereadthepostscriptthroughwithanothersatisfied,sardonicsmile.
Thenhefoldedtheletter,andaffixingawafer,peremptorilystruckthehand-bell
athisside.
AndtheHonourableFrankFortescue,readingthepostscripthalf-an-hourlater,
smiledtoo,butdifferently.Alsohesighedandputtheletterintothefire.
“Andsoendsanotheraffaire….Iwonderifyou’llgoinsolentlytothevery
end?”hesaidsoftly,watchingthepapershrivelandflareup.“IwouldtoGod
youmightfallhonestlyinlove—andthattheladymightsaveyoufromyourself
—mypoorDevil!”

CHAPTERI
ATTHECHEQUERSINN,FALLOWFIELD
CHADBERwasthenameofthehost,floridofcountenance,portlyofperson,
andofmannerpompousandurbane.SolelywithinthewallsoftheChequerslay
hisworld,thatinnhavingbeenacquiredbyhisgreat-grandfatherasfarbackas
theyear1667,whenthejovialStuartKingsatontheEnglishthrone,andthe
HanoverianElectorswerenotyetdreamedof.
ATorywasMr.Chadbertothebackbone.Nonesobitter‘gainstthelittle
Germanashe,andsurelynonehadlookedforwardmoreeagerlytotheadventof
thegallantCharlesEdward.Ifheconfinedhispatriotismtodrinkingsuccessto
PrinceCharlie’scampaign,whoshallblamehim?Andif,whensundryWhig
gentlemenhaltedattheChequersontheirwaytothecoast,and,callingfora
bottleofRhenish,badehimtossdownaglasshimselfwithahealthtohis
Majesty,againwhoshallblameMr.Chadberforobeying?Whatwasahealth
onewayoranotherwhenyouhadrenderedactiveservicetotwoofhisStuart
Highness’sadherents?
ItwasMr.Chadber’sboast,utteredonlytohisadmiringToryneighbours,thathe
had,attheriskofhisownlife,givensheltertotwofugitivesofthedisastrous
‘Forty-five,whohadcomesofaroutoftheirwayasquietFallowfield.Thatno
onehadseteyesoneitherofthemenwasnoreasonfordoubtinganhonest
landlord’sword.Butnoonewouldhavethoughtofdoubtinganystatementthat
Mr.Chadbermightmake.MinehostoftheChequerswasagreatpersonagein
thetown,beingablebothtoreadandtowrite,andhavingonce,whenyoung,
travelledasfarnorthasLondontown,stayingtherefortendaysandsettingeyes
onnolessapersonthanthegreatDukeofMarlboroughhimselfwhenthat
gentlemanwasridingalongtheStrandonhiswaytoSt.James’s.
Also,itwasanot-to-be-ignoredfactthatMr.Chadber’shome-brewedalewas
farsuperiortothatsoldbythelandlordoftherivalinnattheotherendofthe
village.
Altogetherhewasamostimportantcharacter,andnoonewasmoreawareofhis

importancethanhisworthyself.


To“gentlemenborn,”whom,heprotested,hecoulddistinguishataglance,he
wasalmostobsequiouslypolite,butonclerksandunderlings,andmenwhobore
nosignsofaffluenceabouttheirpersons,hewastednoneofhisdeference.
Thusitwasthat,whenalittlegreen-cladlawyeralightedonedayfromthemail
coachandenteredthecoffee-roomattheChequers,hewasreceivedwith
pomposityandscarce-veiledcondescension.
Hewasnervous,itseemed,andmorethanalittleworried.HeoffendedMr.
Chadberattheoutset,whenheinsinuatedthathewascometomeetagentleman
whomightperhapsberathershabbilyclothed,rathershortofpurse,andevenof
ratherunsavouryrepute.VeryseverelydidMr.Chadbergivehimtounderstand
thatguestsofthatdescriptionwereentirelyunknownattheChequers.
Therewasanairofmysteryaboutthelawyer,anditappearedalmostasthough
hewerestrivingtoprobeminehost.Mr.Chadberbridledalittle,andbecame
aloofandhaughty.
Whenthelawyerdaredopenlytoaskifhehadhadanydealingswith
highwaymenoflate,hewasveryproperlyandthoroughlyaffronted.
Thelawyerbecamesuddenlymoreatease.HeeyedMr.Chadberspeculatively,
holdingapinchofsnufftoonethinnostril
“Perhapsyouhavestayinghereacertain—ah—Sir—Anthony—Ferndale?”he
hazarded.
ThegentleairofinjuryfellfromMr.Chadber.Certainlyhehad,andcomeonly
yesterdaya-purposetomeethissolicitor.
Thelawyernodded.
“Iamhe.BesogoodastoappriseSirAnthonyofmyarrival.”
Mr.Chadberbowedexceedinglow,andimploredthelawyernottoremaininthe
draughtycoffee-room.SirAnthonywouldneverforgivehimanheallowedhis
solicitortoawaithimthere.WouldhenotcometoSirAnthony’sprivate

parlour?
Theveryfaintestofsmilescreasedthelawyer’sthinfaceashewalkedalongthe


passageinMr.Chadber’swake.
Hewasusheredintoalow-ceilinged,pleasantchamberlookingoutontothe
quietstreet,andleftalonewhattimeMr.ChadberwentinsearchofSirAnthony.
Theroomwaspanelledandceilingedinoak,withbluecurtainstothewindows
andbluecushionsonthehigh-backedsettlebythefire.Atablestoodinthe
centreofthefloor,withawhitetable-cloththereonandplaceslaidfortwo.
Anothersmallertablestoodbythefireplace,togetherwithachairandastool.
Thelawyertooksilentstockofhissurroundings,andreflectedgrimlyonthe
landlord’ssuddenchangeoffront.ItwouldappearthatSirAnthonywasa
gentlemanofsomestandingattheChequers.
Yetthelittlemanwasplainlyunhappy,andfelltopacingtoandfro,hischin
sunklowonhisbreast,andhishandsclaspedbehindhisback.Hewascometo
seekthedisgracedsonofanEarl,andhewasafraidofwhathemightfind.
SixyearsagoLordJohnCarstares,eldestsonoftheEarlofWyncham,hadgone
withhisbrother,theHon.Richard,toacardparty,andhadreturneda
dishonouredman.
ThatJackCarstaresshouldcheatwasincredible,ridiculous,andatfirstnoone
hadbelievedthetalethatsoquicklyspread.Buthehadconfirmedthattale
himself,defiantlyandwithoutshame,beforeridingoff,bound,mensaid,for
Franceandtheforeignparts.BrotherRichardwasleft,sosaidthecountryside,to
marrytheladytheywerebothinlovewith.Nothingfurtherhadbeenheardof
LordJohn,andtheoutragedEarlforbadehisnametobementionedat
Wyncham,swearingtodisinherittheprodigal.RichardespousedthefairLady
Laviniaandbroughthertoliveatthegreathouse,strangelyforlornnowwithout
LordJohn’smagneticpresence;but,farfrombeinganelatedbridegroom,he
seemedtohavebroughtgloomwithhimfromthehoneymoon,sosilentandso

unhappywashe.
SixyearsdriftedslowlybywithoutbringinganynewsofLordJohn,andthen,
twomonthsago,journeyingfromLondontoWyncham,Richard’scoachhad
beenwaylaid,andbyahighwaymanwhoprovedtobenoneotherthanthe
scapegracepeer.
Richard’sfeelingsmaybeimagined.LordJohnhadbeensingularlyunimpressed


byanythingbeyondthehumourofthesituation.That,however,hadstruckhim
mostforcibly,andhehadburstoutintoafitoflaughterthathadbroughtalump
intoRichard’sthroat,andafreshacheintohisheart.
UponpressureJohnhadgivenhisbrothertheaddressoftheinn,“incaseof
accidents,”andtoldhimtoaskfor“SirAnthonyFerndale”ifeverheshould
needhim.Thenwithoneheartyhandshake,hehadgallopedoffintothe
darkness….
Thelawyerstoppedhisrestlesspacingtolisten.Downthepassagewascoming
thetap-tapofhighheelsonthewoodenfloor,accompaniedbyaslightrustleas
ofstiffsilks.
Thelittlemantuggedsuddenlyathiscravat.Supposing—supposingdebonair
LordJohnwasnolongerdebonair?Supposing—hedarednotsupposeanything.
Nervouslyhedrewarollofparchmentfromhispocketandstoodfingeringit.
Afirmhandwaslaidonthedoor-handle,turningitcleanlyround.Thedoor
openedtoadmitaveritableapparition,andwasclosedagainwithasnap.
Thelawyerfoundhimselfgazingataslight,rathertallgentlemanwhoswept
himaprofoundbow,gracefullyflourishinghissmartthree-corneredhatwithone
handanddelicatelyclaspingcaneandperfumedhandkerchiefwiththeother.He
wasdressedintheheightoftheVersaillesfashion,withfull-skirtedcoatofpalest
lilaclacedwithsilver,small-clothesandstockingsofwhite,andwaistcoatof
floweredsatin.Onhisfeetheworeshoeswithhighredheelsandsilverbuckles,
whileawigofthelatestmode,marvellouslypowderedandcurledandsmacking

greatlyofParis,adornedhisshapelyhead.Inthefoaminglaceofhiscravat
reposedadiamondpin,andontheslimhand,halfcoveredbydroopinglaces,
glowedandflashedahugeemerald.
Thelawyerstaredandstaredagain,anditwasnotuntilapairofdeepblue,
ratherwistfuleyesmethisinaquizzicalglance,thathefoundhistongue.Thena
lookofastonishmentcameintohisface,andhetookahalfstepforward.
“MasterJack!”hegasped.“Master—_Jack!_”
Theelegantgentlemancameforwardandheldupareprovinghand.Thepatchat
thecornerofhismouthquivered,andtheblueeyesdanced.


“Iperceivethatyouarenotacquaintedwithme,Mr.Warburton,”hesaid,
amusementinhispleasant,slightlydrawlingvoice.“Allowmetopresent
myself:SirAnthonyFerndale,àvousservir!”
Agleamofhumourappearedinthelawyer’sowneyesasheclaspedthe
outstretchedhand.
“Ithinkyouareperhapsnotacquaintedwithyourself,mylord,”heremarked
drily.
LordJohnlaidhishatandcaneonthesmalltable,andlookedfaintlyintrigued.
“What’syourmeaning,Mr.Warburton?”
“Iamcome,mylord,toinformyouthattheEarl,yourfather,diedamonth
since.”
Theblueeyeswidened,grewofasuddenhard,andnarrowedagain.
“Isthatreallyso?Well,well!Apoplexy,Imakenodoubt?”
Thelawyer’slipstwitcheduncontrollably.
“No,MasterJack;mylorddiedofheartfailure.”
“Sayyouso?Dearme!Butwillyounotbeseated,sir?Inamomentmyservant
willhaveinducedthecheftoservedinner.Youwillhonourme,Itrust?”
Thelawyermurmuredhisthanksandsatdownonthesettle,watchingtheother
withpuzzledeyes.

TheEarldrewupachairforhimselfandstretchedhisfoottothefire.
“Sixyears,eh?Iprotest‘tisprodigiousgoodtoseeyourfaceagain,Mr.
Warburton….AndI’mtheEarl?EarlandHighToby,byGad!”Helaughed
softly.
“Ihaveherethedocuments,mylord….”
Carstareseyedtherollthroughhisquizzingglass.


“Iperceivethem.Prayreturnthemtoyourpocket,Mr.Warburton.”
“Buttherearecertainlegalformalities,mylord—”
“Exactly.Praydonotletusmentionthem!”
“But,sir!”
ThentheEarlsmiled,andhissmilewassingularlysweetandwinning.
“Atleast,notuntilafterdinner,Warburton!Instead,youshalltellmehowyou
foundme?”
“Mr.Richarddirectedmewheretocome,sir.”
“Ah,ofcourse!IhadforgotthatItoldhimmy—_pied-à-terre_whenIwaylaid
him.”
Thelawyernearlyshudderedatthischeerful,barefacedmentionofhislordship’s
disreputableprofession.
“Er—indeed,sir.Mr.Richardiseagerforyoutoreturn.”
Thehandsomeyoungfacecloudedover.Mylordshookhishead.
“Impossible,mydearWarburton.IamconvincedDicknevervoicedsofoolisha
suggestion.Comenow,confess!‘tisyourownfabrication?”
Warburtonignoredthebanteringtoneandspokeverydeliberately.
“Atallevents,mylord,Ibelievehimanxioustomake—amends.”
Carstaresshotanalert,suspiciousglanceathim.
“Ah!”
“Yes,sir.Amends.”
Mylordstudiedhisemeraldwithhalf-closedeyelids.

“Butwhy—amends,Warburton?”heasked.


“Isnotthattheword,sir?”
“Iconfessitstrikesmeasinapt.DoubtlessIamdullofcomprehension.”
“Youwerenotwonttobe,mylord.”
“No?Butsixyearschangesaman,Warburton.Pray,isMr.Carstareswell?”
“Ibelieveso,sir,”repliedthelawyer,frowningatthedeftchangeofsubject.
“AndLadyLavinia?”
“Ay.”Mr.Warburtonlookedsearchinglyacrossathim,seeingwhich,mylord’s
eyesdancedafresh,brimfullwithmischief.
“Iamverydelightedtohearit.PraypresentmycomplimentstoMr.Carstares
andbeghimtouseWynchamashewills.”
“Sir!MasterJack!Iimploreyou!”burstfromthelawyer,andhesprangup,
movingexcitedlyaway,hishandstwitching,hisfacehaggard.
Mylordstiffenedinhischair.Hewatchedtheother’sjerkymovements
anxiously,buthisvoicewhenhespokewasevenandcold.
“Well,sir?”
Mr.Warburtonwheeledandcamebacktothefireplace,lookinghungrilydown
atmylord’simpassivecountenance.Withaneffortheseemedtocontrolhimself.
“MasterJack,Ihadbettertellyouwhatyouhavealreadyguessed.Iknow.”
Upwentonehaughtyeyebrow.
“Youknowwhat,Mr.Warburton?”
“Thatyouareinnocent!”
“Ofwhat,Mr.Warburton?”
“Ofcheatingatcards,sir!”


Mylordrelaxed,andflickedaspeckofdustfromhisgreatcuff.
“Iregretthenecessityofhavingtodisillusionyou,Mr.Warburton.”

“Mylord,donotfencewithme,Ibeg!Youcantrustme,surely?”
“Certainly,sir.”
“Thendonotkeepupthispretencewithme;no,norlooksohardneither!I’ve
watchedyougrowuprightfromthecradle,andMasterDicktoo,andIknow
youboththroughandthrough.IknowyounevercheatedatColonelDare’snor
anywhereelse!Icouldhaveswornitatthetime—ay,whenIsawMasterDick’s
face,Iknewatoncethatheitwaswhohadplayedfoul,andyouhadbuttaken
theblame!”
“No!”
“Iknowbetter!Canyou,MasterJack,lookmeinthefaceandtruthfullydeny
whatIhavesaid?Canyou?Canyou?”
Mylordsatsilent.
Withasigh,Warburtonsankontothesettleoncemore.Hewasflushed,andhis
eyesshone,buthespokecalmlyagain.
“Ofcourseyoucannot.Ihaveneverknownyoulie.YouneednotfearIshall
betrayyou.Ikeptsilencealltheseyearsformylord’ssake,andIwillnotspeak
nowuntilyougivemeleave.”
“WhichInevershall.”
“MasterJack,thinkbetterofit,Ibegofyou!Nowthatmylordisdead—”
“Itmakesnodifference.”
“Nodifference?‘Twasnotforhissake?‘Twasnotbecauseyouknewhowhe
lovedMasterDick?”
“No.”
“Then‘tisLadyLavinia—”


“No.”
“But—”
Mylordsmiledsadly.
“Ah,Warburton!Andyouaverredyouknewusthroughandthrough!Forwhose

sakeshoulditbebuthisown?”
“Ifearedit!”Thelawyermadeahopelessgesturewithhishands.“Youwillnot
comeback?”
“No,Warburton,Iwillnot;Dickmaymanagemyestates.Iremainontheroad.”
Warburtonmadeonelasteffort.
“Mylord!”hecrieddespairingly,“Willyounotatleastthinkofthedisgraceto
thenameanyoubecaught?”
Theshadowsvanishedfrommylord’seyes.
“Mr.Warburton,Iprotestyouareofamorbidturnofmind!Doyouknow,Ihad
notthoughtofsounpleasantacontingency?IswearIwasnotborntobe
hanged!”
Thelawyerwouldhavesaidmore,hadnottheentranceofaservant,carryinga
loadedtray,putanendtoallprivateconversation.Themanplaceddishesupon
thetable,lightedcandles,andarrangedtwochairs.
“Dinnerisserved,sir,”hesaid.
Mylordnodded,andmadeaslightgesturetowardthewindows.Instantlythe
manwentovertothemanddrewtheheavycurtainsacross.
MylordturnedtoMr.Warburton.
“Whatsayyou,sir?Shallitbeburgundyorclaret,ordoyouprefersack?”
Warburtondecidedinfavourofclaret.
“Claret,Jim,”orderedCarstares,androsetohisfeet.


“Itrustthedrivehaswhettedyourappetite,Warburton,forhonestChadberwill
bemonstroushurtanyoudonotjusticetohiscapons.”
“Ishallendeavourtosparehisfeelings,”repliedthelawyerwithatwinkle,and
seatedhimselfatthetable.
WhatevermightbeMr.Chadber’sfailings,hepossessedanexcellentcook.Mr.
Warburtondinedverywell,beginningonafatduck,andcontinuingthroughthe
manycoursesthatconstitutedthemeal.

Whenthetablewascleared,theservantgone,andtheportbeforethem,he
endeavouredtoguidetheconversationbackintothepreviouschannels.Buthe
reckonedwithoutmylord,andpresentlyfoundhimselfdiscussingthe
Pretender’slaterebellion.Hesatupsuddenly.
“TherewererumoursthatyouwerewiththePrince,sir.”
Carstaressetdownhisglassingenuineamazement.
“I?”
“Indeed,yes.Idonotknowwhencetherumourcame,butitreachedWyncham.
Mylordsaidnought,butIthinkMr.Richardhardlycreditedit.”
“Ishouldhopenot!Whyshouldtheythinkmeturnedrebel,pray?”
Mr.Warburtonfrowned.
“Rebel,sir?”
“Rebel,Mr.Warburton.IhaveservedunderhisMajesty.”
“TheCarstareswereeverTories,MasterJack,truetotheirrightfulking.”
“MydearWarburton,IowenoughttotheStuartprinces.IwasborninKing
GeorgetheFirst’sreign,
andIprotestIamagoodWhig.”
Warburtonshookhisheaddisapprovingly.


“TherehasneverbeenaWhigintheWynchamfamily,sir.”
“Andyouhopethereneverwillbeagain,eh?WhatofDick?Ishefaithfultothe
Pretender?”
“IthinkMr.Richarddoesnotinteresthimselfinpolitics,sir.”
Carstaresraisedhiseyebrows,andtherefellasilence.
AfteraminuteortwoMr.Warburtonclearedhisthroat.
“I—Isuppose,sir—youhavenoideaof—er—discontinuingyour—er—
profession?”
Mylordgaveanirrepressiblelittlelaugh.
“Faith,Mr.Warburton,I’veonlyjustbegun!”

“Only—Butayearago,Mr.Richard—”
“Iheldhimup?Ay,buttotellthetruth,sir,I’venotdonemuchsincethen!”
“Then,sir,youarenot—er—notorious?”
“Goodgad,no!Notorious,forsooth!Confess,Warburton,youthoughtmesome
heroicfigure?‘GentlemanHarry,’perhaps?”
Warburtonblushed.
“Well,sir—I—er—wondered.”
“Ishallhavetodisappointyou,Iperceive.IdoubtBowStreethasneverheardof
me—and—totellthetruth—‘tisnotanoccupationwhichappealsvastlytomy
senses.”
“Thenwhy,mylord,doyoucontinue?”
“Imusthavesomeexcuseforroamingthecountry,”pleadedJack.“Icouldnot
beidle.”
“Youarenot—compelledto—er—rob,mylord?”


Carstareswrinkledhisbrowinquiringly.
“Compelled?Ah—Itakeyourmeaning.No,Warburton,Ihaveenoughformy
wants—now;timewas—butthatispast.Irobforamusement’ssake.”
Warburtonlookedsteadilyacrossathim.
“Iamsurprised,mylord,thatyou,aCarstares,shouldfindit—amusing.”
Johnwassilentforamoment,andwhenheatlengthspokeitwasdefiantlyand
withabitternessmostunusualinhim.
“Theworld,Mr.Warburton,hasnottreatedmesokindlythatIshouldfeelany
qualmsofconscience.But,anitgivesyouanysatisfactiontoknowit,Iwilltell
youthatmyrobberiesarefewandfarbetween.Youspokealittlewhileagoof
myprobable—ah—fate—onTyburnTree.Ithinkyouneednotfeartohearof
that.”
“I—Itgivesmegreatsatisfaction,mylord,Iconfess,”stammeredthelawyer,
andfoundnothingmoretosay.Afteralongpauseheagainproducedthebulky

rollofparchmentandlaiditdownbeforetheEarlwiththeapologeticmurmur
of:
“Business,mylord!”
Carstaresdescendedfromthecloudsandeyedthepacketwithevidentdistaste.
Heproceededtofillhisandhiscompanion’sglassveryleisurely.Thatdone,he
heavedalugubrioussigh,caughtMr.Warburton’seye,laughedinanswertoits
quizzicalgleam,andbroketheseal.
“Sinceyouwillhaveit,sir—business!”
*
Mr.WarburtonstayedthenightattheChequersandtravelledbacktoWyncham
nextdaybythetwoo’clockcoach.Heplayedpiquetandécartéwithmylordall
theevening,andthenretiredtobed,nothavingfoundanopportunitytoarguehis
missionashehadhopedtodo.Wheneverhehadtriedtoturntheconversation
thatwayhehadbeengentlybutfirmlyledintosaferchannels,andsomehowhad
founditimpossibletogetback.Mylordwasthegayestandmostcharmingof


companions,buttalk“business”hewouldnot.Heregaledthelawyerwithspicy
anecdotesandtalesofabroad,butneveronceallowedMr.Warburtontospeakof
hishomeorofhisbrother.
Thelawyerretiredtorestinameasurereassuredbytheother’sgoodspirits,but
atthesametimedispiritedbyhisfailuretoinduceCarstarestoreturnto
Wyncham.
Nextmorning,althoughhewasnotupuntiltwelve,hewasbeforemylord,who
onlyappearedintimeforlunch,whichwasservedasbeforeintheoakparlour.
HeenteredtheroominhisusualleisurelyyetdecidedfashionandmadeMr.
Warburtonamarvellousleg.Thenheborehimofftoinspecthismare,Jenny,of
whomhewasinordinatelyproud.Bythetimetheyreturnedtotheparlour
luncheonwasserved,andMr.Warburtonrealisedthathehadscarcelyanytime
leftinwhichtopleadhiscause.

Mylord’sservanthoveredcontinuallyabouttheroom,waitingonthem,untilhis
masterbadehimgotoattendtothelawyer’svalise.Whenthedoorhadclosed
onhisretreatingform,Carstaresleanedbackinhischair,and,witharather
drearylittlesmile,turnedtohiscompanion.
“Youwanttoreasonwithme,Iknow,Mr.Warburton,and,indeed,Iwilllisten
anImust.ButIwouldsomuchratherthatyouleftthesubjectalone,believe
me.”
Warburtonsensedthefinalityinhisvoice,andwiselythrewawayhislast
chance.
“Iunderstand‘tispainful,mylord,andIwillsaynomore.Onlyremember—and
thinkonit,Ibeg!”
Theconcerninhisfacetouchedmylord.
“Youaretoogoodtome,Mr.Warburton,Ivow.IcanonlysaythatIappreciate
yourkindness—andyourforbearance.AndItrustthatyouwillforgivemy
seemingchurlishnessandbelievethatIamindeedgratefultoyou.”
“IwishImightdomoreforyou,MasterJack!”stammeredWarburton,made
miserablebythewistfulnoteinhisfavourite’svoice.Therewasnotimefor


more;thecoachalreadyawaitedhim,andhisvalisehadbeenhoistedup.Asthey
stoodtogetherintheporch,hecouldonlygripmylord’shandtightlyandsay
good-bye.Thenhegothurriedlyintothecoach,andthedoorwasslammed
behindhim.
Mylordmadehisleg,andwatchedtheheavyvehiclemoveforwardandroll
awaydownthestreet.Thenwithastifledsighheturnedandwalkedtowardsthe
stables.Hisservantsawhimcomingandwentatoncetomeethim.
“Themare,sir?”
“Asyousay,Jim—themare.Inanhour.”
Heturnedandwouldhavestrolledback.
“Sir—yourhonour!”

Hepaused,lookingoverhisshoulder.
“Well?”
“They’reonthelook-out,sir.Bestbecareful.”
“Theyalwaysare,Jim.Butthanks.”
“Ye—yewouldn’ttakemewithye,sir?”pleadingly.
“Takeyou?Faith,no!I’venomindtoleadyouintodanger.Andyouserveme
bestbyremainingtocarryoutmyorders.”
Themanfellback.
“Ay,sir;but—but—”
“Therearenone,Jim.”
“No,sir—butyewillhaveacare?”
“Iwillbethemostcautiousofmen.”Hewalkedawayontheword,andpassed
intothehouse.


Inanhourhewasaverydifferentbeing.Gonewastheemeraldring,thefoppish
cane;thelanguidair,too,haddisappeared,leavinghimbriskandbusinesslike.
Hewasdressedforriding,withbuffcoatandbuckskinbreeches,andshiningtop
boots.Asoberbrownwigreplacedthepowderedcreation,andablacktricorne
wassetrakishlyatop.
Hestoodinthedesertedporch,watchingJimstraphisbaggagetothesaddle,
occasionallygivingacurtdirection.PresentlyMr.Chadberappearedwiththe
stirrup-cup,whichhedrainedandhandedbackwithawordofthanksanda
guineaatthebottom.
Someonecalledlustilyfromwithin,andthelandlord,bowingverylow,
murmuredapologiesandvanished.
Jimcastalastglanceatthesaddle-girths,and,leavingthemarequietlystanding
intheroad,cameuptohismasterwithglovesandwhip.
Carstarestookthemsilentlyandfelltotappinghisboot,hiseyesthoughtfullyon
theman’sface.

“Youwillhireacoach,asusual,”hesaidatlength,“andtakemybaggageto—”
(Hepaused,frowning)—“Lewes.YouwillengagearoomattheWhiteHartand
orderdinner.Ishallwear—apricotand—h’m!”
“Blue,sir?”venturedJim,withanideaofbeinghelpful.
Hismaster’seyescrinkledatthecorners.
“Youareahumorist,Salter.Apricotandcream.Cream?Yes,‘tisapleasing
thought—cream.Thatisall—Jenny!”
Themareturnedherhead,whinnyingashecametowardsher.
“Goodlass!”Hemountedlightlyandpattedherglossyneck.Thenheleaned
sidewaysinthesaddletospeakagaintoSalter,whostoodbesidehim,onehand
onthebridle.
“Thecloak?”
“Behindyou,sir.”


“Mywig?”
“Yes,sir.”
“Pistols?”
“Readyprimed,sir.”
“Good.IshallbeinLewesintimefordinner—withluck.”
“Yes,sir.Ye—yewillhaveacare?”anxiously.
“HaveInottoldyou?”Hestraightenedinthesaddle,touchedthemarewithhis
heel,andbestowingaquicksmileandanodonhisman,trottedeasilyaway.


CHAPTERII
MYLORDATTHEWHITEHART
“SIRANTHONYFERNDALE”satbeforethedressing-tableinhisroomatthe
WhiteHart,idlypolishinghisnails.Agorgeoussilkdressinggownlayoverthe
backofhischair,and,behindhim,Jimwasattendingtohiswig,atthesametime

hoveringanxiouslyoverthecoatandwaistcoatthatwerewaitingtobedonned.
Carstaresleftoffpolishinghisnails,yawned,andleanedbackinhischair,a
slim,gracefulfigureincambricshirtandapricotsatinbreeches.Hestudiedhis
cravatforsomemomentsinthemirror,andliftedahandtoit.Salterheldhis
breath.Withextremedeliberationthehandmovedadiamondandemeraldpin
thefractionofaninchtooneside,andfelltohissideagain.Salterdrewa
relievedbreath,whichbroughthismaster’seyesroundtohimself.
“Notrouble,Jim?”
“Noneatall,sir.”
“NeitherhadI.‘Twasmostsurprisinglyeasy.Thebirdshadnomorefightin
themthansparrows.Twomeninacoach—oneabullyingrascalofamerchant,
theotherhisclerk.Gad!butIwassorryforthatlittleman!”Hepaused,hishand
ontherougepot.
Salterlookedaninquiry.
“Yes,”noddedCarstares.“Verysorry.Thefatmanwouldappeartobullyand
browbeathimafterthemannerofhiskind;heevenblamedhimformyadvent,
thegreasycoward!Yes,Jim,youareright—hedidnotappealtome,ceM.
Fudby.So—”ingenuously,“Irelievedhimofhiscash-boxandtwohundred
guineas.ApresentforthepoorofLewes.”
Jimjerkedhisshoulder,frowning.
:“Ifyegiveawayallyeget,sir,whydoyerobatall?”heaskedbluntly.
Hiswhimsicallittlesmileplayedaboutmylord’smouth.


“‘Tisanobjectformylife,Jim:anobleobject.AndIbelieveitamusesmeto
playRobinHood—takefromtherichtogivetothepoor,”headded,forSalter’s
benefit.“Buttoreturntomyvictims—youwouldhavelaughedhadyoubutseen
mylittlemancometumblingoutofthecoachwhenIopenedthedoor!”
“Tumble,sir?Whyshouldhedothat?”
“Hewasatpainstoexplainthereason.Itseemshehadbeencommandedtohold

thedoortopreventmyentering—sowhenIjerkeditopen,soonerthanloosehis
hold,hefelloutontotheroad.Ofcourse,Iapologisedmostabjectly—andwe
hadsomeconversation.Quiteanicelittleman…Itmademelaughtoseehim
sprawlingontheroad,though!”
“WishIcouldhaveseenit,yourhonour.Iwouldha’likedfinetoha’beenbeside
ye.”Helookeddownatthelitheformwithsomepride.“I’dgivesomethingto
seeyeholdupacoach,sir!”
Haresfootinhand,Jackmethisadmiringeyesintheglass,andlaughed.
“Imakenodoubtyouwould….Ihavecultivatedasuperbvoice,atriflethick
andbeery,alittleloud,perhaps—ah,somethingtodreamofo’nights!Idoubt
theydo,too,”headdedreflectively,andaffixedthepatchatthecornerofhis
mouth.
“So?Alittlelow,youthink?But‘twillsuffice—What’stoward?”
Downbelowinthestreettherewasagreatstirringandbustling:horses’hoofs,
shoutsfromtheostlers,andthesoundofwheelsonthecobble-stones.Jimwent
tothewindowandlookeddown,craninghisnecktoseeoverthebalcony.
“‘Tisacoacharrived,sir.”
“ThatmuchhadIgathered,”repliedmylord,busywiththepowder.
“Yes,sir.Olord,sir!”Hewasshakenwithlaughter.
“Whatnow?”
“‘Tisthecuriousestsight,sir!Twogentlemen,onefatandt’othersmall!One’s
allshrivelled-looking,likeaspider,whilet’other—”


“Resemblesahippopotamus—particularlyintheface?”
“Wellyes,sir.Hedorather.Andhebewearingpurple.”
“Heavens,yes!Purple,andanorangewaistcoat!”
Jimpeeredafresh.
“Soitis,sir!Buthowdidyeknow?”Evenasheputthequestion,understanding
flashedintoJim’seyes.

“IratherthinkthatIhavehadthehonourofmeetingthesegentlemen,”replied
mylordplacidly.“Mybuckle,Jim….Is’taprodigiousgreatcoachwithwheels
pickedoutinyellow?”
“Ay,yourhonour.Thegentlemenseemabitputout,too.”
“Thatisquiteprobable.Doesthesmallergentlemanwearsomewhat—ah—
muddiedgarments?”
“Ican’tsee,sir;hestandsbehindthefatgentleman.”
“Mr.BumbleBee….Jim!”
“Sir!”Jimturnedquicklyatthesoundofthesharpvoice.
Hefoundthatmylordhadrisen,andwasholdingupawaistcoatofpea-green
patternonabiliousyellowground,betweenadisgustedfingerandthumb.
BeforehisseverefrownJimdroppedhiseyesandstoodlookingforalltheworld
likeaschoolboydetectedinsomecrime.
“Youputthis—thismonstrosity—outformetowear?”inawfultones.
Jimeyedthewaistcoatgloomilyandnodded.
“Yes,sir.”
“DidInotspecifycreamground?”
“Yes,sir.Ithought—Ithoughtthat‘twascream!”