Dorrien of Cranston. Mitford Bertram
in reply to the servant who opens the door. “But he isn’t out of town?”
“Oh no, sir. Mr Venn’s generally home before this. He may be in any minute now.”
“All right. I’ll wait for him. Here, cabman, lay hold of the other end,” and between them they deposit the portmanteau, a battered and weatherworn campaigner, safe inside the hall door, and cabby, having received more than double his fare, retires well satisfied and mumbling gleefully, “Military gent ’ome from Hingia. Two bob and a ’arf crown from Euston. Yee-epp?”
“Just my luck,” muses the traveller with vexation in his face, as he gazes round upon his friend’s sitting-room, a typical bachelor den in all its pipe-and-book-and-stick-bestrewn untidiness. “Just my luck to come back to this cursed town to find the only man I know and could reckon on not at home – possibly out for the evening, and not a soul to speak to in the meanwhile.”
Here a scuffle and a vigorous whine outside the front door cuts short his ruminations. Quickly he opens it.
“Roy, you rascal, come in, sir. Humbugging after cats as usual?” This address, though irate in wording, is affectionate in tone, as the beautiful animal bounds past the instant the door is open, and draws up in the absent Venn’s room, wagging his bushy tail and looking perfectly satisfied with himself. His glossy red-brown coat breaks off at the neck in a white curling ruff which continues down his broad chest, whose normal snowiness is now grimy with railway travel. The soft brown eyes, set in dark circles, and the smooth velvety ears, betray his collie origin, ennobled and broadened as this is by the sturdier proportions engrafted upon it by the admixture of a larger and sterner race – peradventure of the real Newfoundland or Saint Bernard blood. After a few preliminary sniffs round the room the animal settles himself cosily on the rug, his soft, upturned eyes fixed affectionately upon his master. So much for the dog, and what of the man?
A tall and well-proportioned frame, which shows to advantage in its travel-worn suit of light tweed. A finely shaped head, carried high and erect and covered with dark clustering hair. A well-cut profile and regular features in which is an expression of quick readiness, render the face a striking and remarkable one, tanned as it is too by exposure to sun and weather. The eyes are very uncommon, and not at all in keeping with the dark complexion, being in fact violet blue; and there is that in their expression which, together with certain lines on the forehead, would to a physiognomist betray a stormy and unsettled spirit.
There is impatience in the gesture as he stands stroking his drooping moustache while gazing out into the rapidly darkening street. Suddenly Roy, raising his head, emits a threatening growl as a latch-key is turned in the front door. Then in a couple of strides a broad-shouldered, cheery looking fellow bursts into the room —
“Hallo!” is the startled greeting of the new-comer, pulling up short and wondering who the deuce was the intruder whose dog lay growling at him in right threatening fashion from his own hearth.
“All right, Venn. He won’t eat you,” is the stranger’s reply. “But don’t you know me?”
“Hanged if I do! No – yes – I do though. Why, Roland Dorrien, where on earth have you dropped from now?”
“‘The clouds’ you were going to say. No. The Rockies – game thing. Plenty of cloud, literal and metaphorical, besets the way of those whose lives are cast yonder.”
“By Jingo!” cried the other, passing his hand over his fair, closely cropped beard. “Why didn’t you say you were coming back? And did you get this splendid chap out West?”
For Roy, having sniffed the new-comer and pronounced him satisfactory, was now looking up gravely into that worthy’s face and wagging his brush as if desirous of an introduction.
“Yes. Traded him from an Indian who was battering him up a good bit with a rail because he didn’t take kindly to dragging a sledge. And ever since he has stuck to me very much closer than a brother. But then, you see he’s only a dog, not a human, which explains it.”
“Well, you’d better shake down here,” said Venn. “That is, if Mrs Symes has a room. I’ll ring and ask.”
Mrs Symes had a room, and the traveller shook down accordingly.
“I suppose you’ve been having a rare good time of it out West,” began Venn as later in the evening they sat over their cigars. “Shooting grizzlies and Indians, and chevying buffaloes, while a poor stockbroking devil like myself has been tied by the leg to this well-worn spot. Why it doesn’t seem eight years since I saw you off that jolly fine morning in search of fortune. And you’re twice the man you were then. No wonder I didn’t know you at first.”
“It is eight years though, rather over than under. As for having a good time of it, ‘Least said, etc.’ That is until the good old Squire’s bequest took effect, and then things weren’t so bad, because, you see, I could do what I liked, and I did. I forgot – you haven’t heard – how should you have?” seeing the other look slightly mystified. “Well then, the old Squire – my father’s brother, you know – and I used to be very thick, which was good and sufficient reason for my not being allowed to go near him. He died five years ago, as you may or may not know, and I own to feeling a trifle sold at being as I thought cut off with a shilling. Well, a year back, I heard that the good old chap had left me all his personal property to the figure of seven or eight hundred a year. His will stipulated that I was to be kept in the dark about it until my thirtieth birthday – a proviso for which I suppose I ought to feel devoutly grateful, for I was a consummate young ass in those days I’m afraid. Cranston, of course, was entailed, so he could do nothing with that. But he did the best he could for me.”
“Lucky dog,” said Venn. “And now you’ll get Cranston into the bargain.”
“Oh, hold hard, there. My chances of that are about equal to yours. Cranston was entailed – now it isn’t; my affectionate parent was the last man of that ilk. He can will it as he likes now or make a fresh entail, and I’m afraid that won’t be in my direction.”
“But you and he are surely not at cuts after all these years,” said Venn. “He’ll be glad enough to see you again now.”
“He isn’t that sort. He’s never got over that idiotic affair, or pretends he hasn’t. You know what I mean” – as Venn again looked inquiringly. “You don’t? Well, I don’t see why I shouldn’t tell you. There was a girl I used to be very thick with when I was up here before – didn’t mean anything by it of course. I was a thoughtless young fool, you know, and all that sort of thing. She was pretty and taking, and I used to see a good deal of her and take her about a good bit. Not to put too fine a point upon it, we carried on considerably. I always was inclined to be an ass in that line.”
“Quite so, old chap,” laughed Venn, as the other paused in his narrative and stared dreamily in front of him. “So you were – and so you will be again. Drive on.”
“Well things went smoothly enough for a while, and at last it struck me I was going a little too far, and so I began to haul off – found an excuse for leaving Town and so on. The admission sounds hang-dog I grant, but then, only remember my means and prospects – the first nil– ditto the second. To cut the matter short, one day – I was at home at the time – the General sent for me to his sanctum. Without a word he handed me a letter to read. It was from a lawyer, acting for the girl’s father, and threatening to sue me for 4,000 pounds damages for breach of promise. They thought I wasn’t worth anything – then at any rate – and so they’d try it on with my father. By the Lord, Venn old man, I spent a lively half-hour. How he did let drive. I had disgraced him – disgraced the family – disgraced everybody – wasn’t fit to look a dog in the face or to be in the same backyard with a self-respecting cat, and so on. Well now, if he had behaved with ordinary judgment, I was quite ready to admit having made an ass of myself – an infernal ass if he liked – for I was disgusted at the preposterous threat and the extortionateness of the demand. It seemed to ruffle my callow sensibilities, don’t you see. But when he simply volleyed abuse at me and wouldn’t listen to a word I had to say, by Jove! my back got up too and there was a most awful row. He would disown me on the spot – cut