A Son of Mars. Griffiths Arthur
all bounds.
‘Begone, sir! You shall not remain here another second to insult me. Begone! or—’
He only laughed more loudly and mockingly than before. Instantly her rage passed into fury which seemed uncontrollable.
‘Begone!’ she cried again, snatching up a sharp-pointed paper knife and rushing on him with so much intention that Sir Rupert precipitately retired. She followed him downstairs with a wild shriek, little recking how completely she was playing into his hands.
The butler had just admitted several other visitors, who heard and saw all that passed. Sir Rupert went up to them apparently for protection, but his first words showed that he was eager for more than this.
‘Gentlemen, you have arrived most opportunely. You can see for yourselves. It is clearly not safe to leave her any longer at large.’
The butler had quelled poor Lady Farrington almost instantly, but although he held her back she was still furious and foamed at the mouth.
‘Scarcely. We cannot refuse the certificate,’ said Mr. Burkinshaw, of Bootle, a local magistrate and magnate. ‘Sir Henry quite agrees with me, and the doctors have no manner of doubt. Poor woman, she ought clearly to be put under restraint.’
And she was, without unnecessary delay.
Thus Herbert Larkins lost his protectress just when his fortune seemed close at hand. The cup was dashed away just before he had lifted it to his lips, with consequences which were by no means pleasant to himself, as will be seen in the next chapter.
CHAPTER IV.
TAKING THE SHILLING.
Herbert Larkins was in the class-room when he was summoned to see a gentleman who had called.
‘I come from Lady Farrington,’ said his visitor, rather abruptly.
He was a tall, dark-eyed man, with a sinister look upon his face.
‘She is well, I hope? Nothing has happened? I half expected her to-day or to-morrow.’
‘She is well, but she cannot come here, and wishes you to go to her at once. You are aware, no doubt—’
‘The time then has arrived?’ Herbert said, a little incautiously.
‘It has arrived. You are ready, I presume?’
‘I must speak to Dr. Jiggs. I cannot leave the school without his permission, of course.’
‘That is all arranged. When you have got your belongings together, we will start. You are not to return here. You know that, I presume?’
‘We are going to join Lady Farrington?’
The visitor bowed assent.
An hour or two later they were in the train and on the road to London.
There was little conversation between them. Herbert was shy, and his companion by no means talkative or sociable.
‘Where does Lady Farrington live?’ Herbert asked.
‘You really don’t know?’
‘She never told me,’ Herbert replied, looking rather shamefaced.
‘She is a strange person, of that you must be aware. It is impossible to account for all she says and does.’
‘She has always been most kind to me,’ Herbert said, stoutly.
‘No doubt,’ the other replied, drily. ‘But perhaps that was a form of eccentricity. People are sometimes too affectionate by half.’
Herbert would have liked some explanation of this speech, but he could not bring himself to ask for it. He only knew that he began to dislike this man excessively, and hoped they might never have much to say to each other.
Arrived in London, they drove from one terminus to another. Fresh tickets were taken, for which his companion made Herbert pay; and after a hasty meal at the refreshment-room, they were again seated in a railway carriage, travelling westward. This second was a wearisome journey, which continued far into the chill autumn night. Towards nine they alighted at a station, where their baggage was transferred to a fly, into which they entered, and were driven half-a-dozen miles or more. At length they reached a small country inn, had some supper, and were shown to their rooms.
‘Remember,’ said his companion, as he bade him good-night, ‘our affair is secret. Keep your own counsel; do not gossip with any one you may meet here. Lady Farrington does not wish her name bandied about; so mind you do not mention it to a soul.’
Herbert slept late next morning, and when he went downstairs he found himself alone. The other gentleman had gone out, they told him, and would not return till late. Breakfast—what would he like? He might like what he pleased, but all he could get was cold bacon and bread, with thin cider to drink. A school-boy has a fine appetite, and is nowise particular. Herbert enjoyed his breakfast, as he did also his lunch and his dinner. He felt jolly enough. He asked where he was, and they told him King’s Staignton in Devonshire. Was there anything to do in the place? Yes, he might fish the trout stream, which he did, very much to his own satisfaction, and spent a thoroughly pleasant day.
But when night fell, and his companion did not return, he began to feel the least bit uneasy. He ate his trout, however, and his bacon and bread, and slept the sleep of the young, undismayed by fears of to-morrow. To-morrow came, but no companion. A third and a fourth day, and Herbert was still alone. What could it mean? He felt absolved from the necessity of holding his tongue, and he asked the landlady if she knew any one of the name of Farrington in the country round about. He was resolved to go to her ladyship himself.
‘No, they had never heard the name before.’
He now became more than puzzled. He was filled with an inexplicable but increasing dread of coming trouble, and he was just beginning his preparations for returning at once to Deadham, when the absentee suddenly reappeared.
Herbert was young, inexperienced, and terribly shy. But his was no craven spirit, and he had enough of school-boy plain-speaking frankness about him to say,
‘Come, this is a fine lark. You would not have kept me waiting here much longer, I can tell you. I was just going to cut and run.’
‘You may cut and run as soon as you please,’ said the other gruffly. ‘The sooner the better.’
‘And what would Lady Farrington say?’
‘Lady Farrington is not in a position to say much.’
‘I should like to see her.’
‘You can’t. She’s gone off in a hurry.’
‘She never was here, or near here. I know that much, for I have enquired.’
‘You broke through my instructions, did you? Not that it matters much; and it is time you should know all. Lady Farrington has been put under restraint. You do not understand? Locked up in an asylum, I mean. She is mad, insane; and of all her ravings, the wildest were those which led you to suppose you were somebody, instead of a beggar’s brat picked up out of the mire.’
‘That I’m not, I’ll swear, and no one shall call me so,’ cried Herbert, hotly. He looked so fierce, with his clenched fists, broad shoulders, and light active figure, that the man for the moment was cowed.
‘I don’t know who you are, or where you came from. But you’re not what you think you are, nor what Lady Farrington has made you believe. That is enough for me.’
‘I have her word.’
‘That of a mad woman!’
‘And she has proofs.’
‘Which