Выбрать главу

you cried joyfully, and all was well. Am I right? I notice that you

have not corrected me so far."

Whether or not Sir Thomas would have replied in the affirmative is

uncertain. He was opening his mouth to speak, when the curtain at

the end of the room heaved, and Lord Dreever burst out like a

cannon-ball in tweeds.

The apparition effectually checked any speech that Sir Thomas might

have been intending to make. Lying back in his chair, he goggled

silently at the new arrival. Even Jimmy, though knowing that his

lordship had been in hiding, was taken aback. His attention had

become so concentrated on his duel with the knight that he had

almost forgotten they had an audience.

His lordship broke the silence.

"Great Scott!" he cried.

Neither Jimmy nor Sir Thomas seemed to consider the observation

unsound or inadequate. They permitted it to pass without comment.

"You old scoundrel!" added his lordship, addressing Sir Thomas. "And

you're the man who called me a welsher!" There were signs of a

flicker of spirit in the knight's prominent eyes, but they died

away. He made no reply.

"Great Scott!" moaned his lordship, in a fervor of self-pity. "Here

have I been all these years letting you give me Hades in every shape

and form, when all the while--My goodness, if I'd only known

earlier!"

He turned to Jimmy.

"Pitt, old man," he said warmly, "I--dash it! I don't know what to

say. If it hadn't been for you--I always did like Americans. I

always thought it bally rot that that fuss happened in--in--whenever

it was. If it hadn't been for fellows like you," he continued,

addressing Sir Thomas once more, "there wouldn't have been any of

that frightful Declaration of Independence business. Would there,

Pitt, old man?"

These were deep problems, too spacious for casual examination. Jimmy

shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, I guess Sir Thomas might not have got along with George

Washington, anyway," he said.

"Of course not. Well"--Spennie moved toward the door--"I'm off

downstairs to see what Aunt Julia has to say about it all."

A shudder, as if from some electric shock, shook Sir Thomas. He

leaped to his feet.

"Spencer," he cried, "I forbid you to say a word to your aunt."

"Oh!" said his lordship. "You do, do you?"

Sir Thomas shivered.

"She would never let me hear the last of it."

"I bet she wouldn't. I'll go and see."

"Stop!"

"Well?"

Sir Thomas dabbed at his forehead with his handkerchief. He dared

not face the vision of Lady Julia in possession of the truth. At one

time, the fear lest she might discover the harmless little deception

he had practised had kept him awake at night, but gradually, as the

days went by and the excellence of the imitation stones had

continued to impose upon her and upon everyone else who saw them,

the fear had diminished. But it had always been at the back of his

mind. Even in her calmer moments, his wife was a source of mild

terror to him. His imagination reeled at the thought of what depths

of aristocratic scorn and indignation she would plumb in a ease like

this.

"Spencer," he said, "I insist that you shall not inform your aunt of

this!"

"What? You want me to keep my mouth shut? You want me to become an

accomplice in this beastly, low-down deception? I like that!"

"The point," said Jimmy, "is well taken. Noblesse oblige, and all

that sort of thing. The blood of the Dreevers boils furiously at the

idea. Listen! You can hear it sizzling."

Lord Dreever moved a step nearer the door.

"Stop!" cried Sir Thomas again. "Spencer!"

"Well?"

"Spencer, my boy, it occurs to me that perhaps I have not always

treated you very well--"

"'Perhaps!' 'Not always!' Great Scott, I'll have a fiver each way on

both those. Considering you've treated me like a frightful kid

practically ever since you've known me, I call that pretty rich!

Why, what about this very night, when I asked you for a few pounds?"

"It was only the thought that you had been gambling--"

"Gambling! How about palming off faked diamonds on Aunt Julia for a

gamble?"

"A game of skill, surely?" murmured Jimmy.

"I have been thinking the matter over," said Sir Thomas, "and, if

you really need the--was it not fifty pounds?"

"It was twenty," said his lordship. "And I don't need it. Keep it.

You'll want all you can save for a new necklace."

His fingers closed on the door-handle.

"Spencer, stop!"

"Well?"

"We must talk this over. We must not be hasty."

Sir Thomas passed the handkerchief over his forehead.

"In the past, perhaps," he resumed, "our relations have not been

quite--the fault was mine. I have always endeavored to do my duty.

It is a difficult task to look after a young man of your age--"

His lordship's sense of his grievance made him eloquent.

"Dash it all!" he cried. "That's just what I jolly well complain of.

Who the dickens wanted you to look after me? Hang it, you've kept

your eye on me all these years like a frightful policeman! You cut

off my allowance right in the middle of my time at college, just

when I needed it most, and I had to come and beg for money whenever

I wanted to buy a cigarette. I looked a fearful ass, I can tell you!

Men who knew me used to be dashed funny about it. I'm sick of the

whole bally business. You've given me a jolly thin time all this

while, and now I'm going to get a bit of my own back. Wouldn't you,

Pitt, old man?"

Jimmy, thus suddenly appealed to, admitted that, in his lordship's

place, he might have experienced a momentary temptation to do

something of the kind.

"Of course," said his lordship; "any fellow would."

"But, Spencer, let met--"

"You've soured my life," said his lordship, frowning a tense,

Byronic frown. "That's what you've done--soured my whole bally life.

I've had a rotten time. I've had to go about touching my friends for

money to keep me going. Why, I owe you a fiver, don't I, Pitt, old

man?"

It was a tenner, to be finnickingly accurate about details, but

Jimmy did not say so. He concluded, rightly, that the memory of the

original five pounds which he had lent Lord Dreever at the Savoy

Hotel had faded from the other's mind.

"Don't mention it," he said.

"But I do mention it," protested his lordship, shrilly. "It just

proves what I say. If I had had a decent allowance, it wouldn't have

happened. And you wouldn't give me enough to set me going in the

diplomatic service. That's another thing. Why wouldn't you do that?"

Sir Thomas pulled himself together.

"I hardly thought you qualified, my dear boy--"

His lordship did not actually foam at the mouth, but he looked as if

he might do so at any moment. Excitement and the memory of his

wrongs, lubricated, as it were, by the champagne he had consumed

both at and after dinner, had produced in him a frame of mind far

removed from the normal. His manners no longer had that repose which

stamps the caste of Vere de Vere. He waved his hands:

"I know, I know!" he shouted. "I know you didn't. You thought me a

fearful fool. I tell you, I'm sick of it. And always trying to make

me marry money! Dashed humiliating! If she hadn't been a jolly

sensible girl, you'd have spoiled Miss McEachern's life as well as

mine. You came very near it. I tell you, I've had enough of it. I'm

in love. I'm in love with the rippingest girl in England. You've

seen her, Pitt, old top. Isn't she a ripper?"

Jimmy stamped the absent lady with the seal of his approval.