King of the Castle. Fenn George Manville
my house, ruffian, before I send for the police.”
“You’ll be sorry for all this, Mr Gartram,” said Chris. “Claude – ”
“Silence!” shouted Gartram. “Recollect, my girl, that henceforth this man and we are strangers. Everything between us is at an end. Once more, sir, will you leave my house?”
“Yes, I’ll go,” replied Chris slowly, as his eyes rested on Claude’s. “Don’t think ill of me,” he said to her huskily. “I have done nothing wrong.”
Gartram came between them, and, feeling that time alone could heal the terrible breach, Chris made a gesticulation and walked slowly to the door, where he turned.
“Mr Gartram,” he said, “you’ll bitterly repent this. But don’t think that I shall give up. I’ll go now. One of these days, when you have thought all over, you will ask me to come back, and we shall be friends again. Claude – Mary, all this was not my seeking. Good-bye.”
“Not his seeking!” cried Gartram, sinking into a chair and dabbing his face with his handkerchief. “He wants to kill me: that’s what he’s trying to do. How are you now, Glyddyr? Pray forgive me for bringing this upon you. The scoundrel must be mad.”
“Getting better now, sir,” said Glyddyr; and, as his enemy had gone, beginning with a great show of suffering and effort to suppress it, as his eyes sought sympathy from Claude. He found none, so directed his eyes at Mary, who offered him her hand as he made slowly for the nearest easy chair. “I suppose I was a bit stunned. Not hurt much, I think.”
“I don’t know how to apologise enough,” cried Gartram; “and you two girls, have you nothing to say? An outrageous assault on my guest! But he shall smart for it. I’ll have him summoned.”
“No, no, Mr Gartram, I’m getting all right fast,” said Glyddyr, quickly seizing the opportunity to be magnanimous in Claudes eyes. “Mr Lisle was excited, and he struck me. A blow like that is nothing.”
“Mr Christopher Lisle will find out that a blow such as you’ve received means a great deal more than he thinks, sir. Claude, ring the bell. Have the spirit stand and soda-water brought in. Are you sure you are not seriously hurt, Glyddyr?”
“Quite, sir: a mere nothing. Great pity it happened. Why, ladies, it must have regularly startled you. Miss Gartram, I am very sorry. You look pale.”
“Enough to startle any woman, Glyddyr. But there, it’s all over for the present. You had better leave us now, girls.”
“No, no,” cried Glyddyr, “don’t let me drive them away, sir.”
“It is not driving them away, Mr Glyddyr,” said Gartram shortly. “I wish them to go.”
“I beg pardon, I am sure.”
“Granted, sir; but I like to be master in my own house.”
“Papa, dear, pray, pray be calm,” whispered Claude, who had crept to his side.
“Calm! Of course. I am calm. There, there, there; don’t talk to me, but go, and I said ring for the spirit stand.”
“Yes, papa, I did. I’ll go and send it in.”
“Yes, quickly. You are sure you would not like the doctor fetched, Glyddyr?”
“Oh, certain, sir. There, let it pass now. A mere nothing.”
“Oh, my poor darling Claude,” whispered Mary, taking her cousin’s hand as they went out, and kissing her pale face as the large dark eyes gazed pitifully down in hers.
“Do you understand what it all means, Mary?”
“Only too well, coz: poor Chris has been telling uncle he loved you, and that put our dear tyrant in a passion. Then Mr Glyddyr came, and poor Chris got in a passion too, and knocked him down.”
“Yes,” sighed Claude; “I’m afraid that must be it.”
“Yes, my dear, it’s all cut and dried. You are to be Mrs Glyddyr as soon as they have settled it all.”
“Never,” said Claude, frowning and looking like a softened edition of her father.
“And as that sets poor Chris at liberty,” continued Mary, with one of her mischievous looks, “and you don’t want him, there may be a bit of a chance for poor little me.”
“Mary, dear!” said Claude, in a voice full of remonstrance.
“It’s rather bad taste of you, for though Mr Glyddyr is very handsome, I think Chris is the better man. Mr Glyddyr seems to me quite a coward making all that fuss, so that we might sympathise with him. Better have had poor Chris.”
“Mary, dear, how can you make fun of everything when I am in such terrible trouble?”
“It’s because I can’t help it, Claude, I suppose. But oh, I am sorry for you if uncle makes you marry handsome Mr Glyddyr.”
“Mary!”
“I cannot help it, dear; I must say it. He’s a coward. He was hurt, of course, but not so much as he pretended. Chris Lisle knocked him right down, and he wouldn’t get up for fear he should get knocked down again. Didn’t Chris look like a lion?”
“It is all very, very terrible, Mary, and I want your help and sympathy so badly.”
“I can’t help you, coz; I’m too bad. And all this was my fault.”
“No; not all,” said Claude sadly. “Papa has been thinking about Mr Glyddyr for a long time, and dropping hints to me about him.”
“Yes; and you’ll have to take him.”
“No,” said Claude, with quiet firmness; and her father’s stern, determined look came into her eyes. “No, I will never be Mr Glyddyr’s wife.”
“But uncle will never forgive poor Mr Lisle.”
“Don’t say that, Mary. Never is a terrible word. Papa loves me, and he would like to see me happy.”
“And shall you tell him you love Chris?”
“No,” said Claude sternly.
“If you please, ma’am, Mrs Woodham is here,” said one of the servants; and Claude’s face grew more troubled as she asked herself what her father would say to the step she had taken, in bidding the unhappy woman come and resume her old position in the house.
She had not long to wait.
As she rose to cross the room she caught sight of Glyddyr looking back at the windows on leaving the house, and heard the study bell ring furiously.
“Quick, Mary!” she cried, as she rushed through the door, being under the impression that her father had had another seizure.
The relief was so great as she entered the study and found him standing in the middle of the room, that she threw herself in his arms.
“I thought you were taken ill again,” she gasped, as she clung, to him, trembling.
He was evidently in a fury, but his child’s words were like oil upon the tempestuous waves.
“You – you thought that?” he said, holding her to his breast and patting her cheek tenderly. “You thought that, eh? And they say in Danmouth that everybody hates me. That there isn’t a soul here who wouldn’t like to dance upon my grave.”
“Papa, dear, don’t talk like that.”
“Why not? the ungrateful wretches! I’ve made Danmouth a prosperous place. I spend thousands a year in wages, and the dogs all turn upon me and are ready to rend the hand that feeds them. If they are not satisfied with their wages, they wait till I have some important contract on the way, and then they strike. I haven’t patience with them.”
“Father!” cried Claude firmly, “Doctor Asher said you were not to excite yourself in any way, or you would be ill.”
“And a good thing, too. Better be ill, and die, and get out of the way. Hated – cursed