The Captain appeared to have every confidence of success, so Doctor Syn did not protest, but anyone seeing his look of bland astonishment would never have guessed what was really in his mind. But the Captain may have felt something of this, for he rose and sought to take his leave, not without some astonishment that the parson made no effort to detain him or question him further. So, again thanking him for the loan of the sword, he was about to take it up when he noticed on the table where it lay a book. Absentmindedly he turned the leaves as though he was engrossed in his own thoughts. Then closing it with a snap he remarked that it was a very fine translation of the Æniad. Doctor Syn’s left eyebrow rose as he said, ‘Ah, amongst your other accomplishments, I see you are a scholar. I was indeed fortunate to come by so good a copy. Since you are interested, pray borrow it. I will remove my bookmarks. I have an unfortunate habit of making little notes and leaving them all over the place.’
The Captain accepted the book graciously enough and took his leave, riding back to Hythe with his trophies: a useful sword that he wanted and a French translation of a classic for which he had no use.
The family was already at breakfast when Doctor Syn reached the Court House. The meal was very nearly over, but as he was considered one of them only the briefest apology was necessary to Lady Caroline, who insisted on serving him herself. In fact, this morning she seemed very bright and attentive to everyone, in contrast to her usual querulous self. To Sir Antony she behaved with the utmost affection, fussing round him with many a ‘There, my love’, and “A little more, my pet’. She anticipated his every want, which called forth from the Squire when her back was turned at the hot-plate a mighty wink directed towards Doctor Syn, whose obvious meaning was that his yesterday’s rebellion had brought her to heel. The Squire was in excellent humour but for one thing: that those confounded smugglers had had the audacity to use his horses again, and that now when he had got the chance of a good day’s sport there wasn’t an animal fit to ride, with the exception of Cicely’s mare, Stardust, whose stall had been marked with a chalked cross, and she was going to ride herself — selfish girl! Even this was said in jest, for today the Squire could not bring himself to be cross with anyone. Since Doctor Syn’s arrival Cicely had appeared to be intent upon her cup of chocolate, so busily stirring that it was in danger of making all who watched it dizzy, and not daring to look up she had stared at it herself, but knew it was not only that which made her head and heart both spin. Upon her father’s remark, however, about Stardust she glanced up. Doctor Syn was looking at her with a faint twinkle in his eyes, and she returned it boldly, one delicate eyebrow raised. It was lucky that at that moment all the Cobtree family were engrossed upon their breakfast, for the look in Cicely’s eye would not have deceived anyone. It said, triumphantly, ‘So it was you. Thank you.’ Then, as it softened, just, ‘I love you.’
One person at the table, however, was not so busy with her breakfast, nor was she deceived. Aunt Agatha had caught that interchanging glance and knew what it meant. She was delighted, and intended to find out more, wishing that that naughty highwayman had not taken all her jewellery as she would have liked to present Cicely with the diamonds there and then for being intelligent enough to find out what she already had suspected. That behind those great spectacles and air of slow, scholarly charm was an ever-youthful spirit of romance, a great heart, and a quick brain — in fact a man. Aunt Agatha had not been married, but she had an unfailing instinct in these matters. So giving Mister Pitt an extra lump of sugar as a mark of approval that he too had had sagacity in licking the said gentleman’s nose, she purred in anticipation as she promised her own romantic soul much future pleasure in the unravelling of this exciting secret.
After breakfast, however, she had a deal of flutterings on her own account, for upon leaving the morning-room through an ante-chamber, her small white hand through Cicely’s arm, Doctor Syn stopped for a moment to collect some things which he had left upon a chair. He turned to her and with a low bow and an enchanting smile said: ‘A tribute to what every woman should possess, and which you, Miss Agatha, possess in abundance — wit, charm and courage.’ Then, handing her a bundle tied in a silk handkerchief, he said: ‘This with the compliments of Gentleman James to his wee Scots lassie, and this, madame, with mine own regard, hoping I have found a true Scots friend.’
The old lady took the crimson rose and her fingers trembled slightly, her wise old eyes were almost over-bright as, sweeping him the most graceful Court curtsey, she answered softly: ‘I have heard, sir, that all good Marsh men pay their Scotts and so maintain the ancient Wall, but in truth, sir, you have paid such tribute to an ancient Scot that she will ever try to maintain the friendship that you ask.’ Here, curiously enough, she held out her hands to the two of them.
Cicely watched this touching scene and her heart glowed. She applauded his gesture in thus giving the rose where another girl might have been petty, wanting it for herself; and she was amply rewarded, for, taking from his pocket a single glove, he handed it to her and said: ‘And beneath the tree from which I plucked my solitary symbol of admiration for your aunt I found’ — and here his smile was not devoid of mischief — ‘this solitary glove. I fear you have lost its fellow.’
And so it was that in one morning Doctor Syn had bestowed several trophies, loaning the first to a man he did not like and bestowing the others upon two women that he loved. Aunt Agatha had the jewels which she wanted and a rose she had not expected, and Cicely but one glove for which she had no use, yet hoping that the other lay against his heart she thrilled and valued it the more.
Chapter 15
Doctor Syn Receives an Invitation, and Sends One
If Mr. Bone had experiended difficulty in selecting a suitable gift for a lady, Aunt Agatha appeared to be having equal trouble in the choice of one for the opposite sex. Not that her experience was letting her down, but she could not find anything suitable for a gentleman of his profession amongst all this assortment of feminine fripperies. The jewels so lately returned were spread about over the bed, and she turned over and sorted, and then turned over again the objects she had picked out. Cicely sat perched at the foot, leaning back against the spiral post, giving her opinion every now and then. Proudly pinned at Aunt Agatha’s bosom, fastening her fichu, was the gold brooch set with the crystal head of a dog, whose eyes, peeping out from the frills and flounces, were every bit as bright as those of Mister Pitt, who was watching the proceedings from beneath the bedspread.
‘No, child,’ the old lady laughed, ‘not the gold true-lover’s knot — nor the pearl locket with my hair in it, for it might surprise him somewhat to know that I was once a blonde, since he has only seen me in this hairdresser’s contraption. Oh, Lud, had we but something appertaining to his naughty trade — a tiny pair of gold horse-pistols, a mask with sapphires for the eyes — though,’ she added roguishly, ‘I warrant they would not shine as brightly as his do. But there, we have not even a silver spur, and cannot send him a bracelet made of elephant’s hair, since his activities on horseback on Quarry Hill. Steep as it is, ’tis not comparable to Hannibal’s elephantine ride across the Alps.’
Cicely jumped from the bed, exclaiming, ‘Why, Lud, madame, what a ninny I am! Sitting here watching you rack your brains while I believe I have the very thing. I’ll fetch it for you straight,’ and off she went to her own room, returning in a few minutes with something in her hand. ‘There,’ she said, ‘will not this suit your naughty beau, ma’am? At least it tallies with some of his equipment,’ and she held out for Aunt Agatha’s inspection a golden riding-crop set in the form of a pin, its handle encrusted with diamonds and its thong looped in a true lover’s knot. ‘Pray take it, ma’am. ’Tis one I bought myself, after I had first cleared the broad dyke without a splash.’