The Foundling (43 page)

"Oh, no! Mr. Rufford brought me here yesterday!" she told him.

"Mr. Rufford? Who's he?" demanded his lordship.

"Charlie, pray do not!" Harriet begged, in a good deal of distress. "You should not ask such impertinent questions! You know you should not!"

"I was forgetting," explained Belinda. "He said he was Mr. Rufford, but all the time he was a Duke. And now I don't know what his name is, for I was so surprised I never asked him! Oh, ma'am, do please tell me!"

"
What?
" gasped Lord Gaywood, stopping dead upon the top step. "Harriet, what in thunder—?"

"Gaywood, I beg you will be quiet!" Harriet said. "I will explain it presently! Belinda, I will take you up to the bed-chamber that has been made ready for you, and you will like to take your bonnet off, I daresay, and your pelisse. And then you must make your curtsy to my grandmama."

"Harriet!" said his lordship, in martial accents, "I order you to come downstairs again, and talk to
me!
"

"Yes, yes, I will do so directly!" promised his harassed sister, propelling Belinda towards the stairs.

When she came down again some few minutes later, she found Lord Gaywood awaiting her in the doorway of the book-room. He promptly seized her by the hand, and led her in, saying: "Harriet, tell me this! Is that out-and-out beauty the game-pullet Sale had with him at Hitchin, or is she not?"

Harriet replied with a good deal of dignity: "Pray do not pull me about so, Gaywood! I don't know what a game-pullet is, and I am sure I don't want to, for it sounds to me a horribly vulgar expression!"

"It's precisely what you think it is, so don't be missish!" retorted his lordship.

"Well, you should not say such things to me. And she is
not!
"

"Then who is this Duke who calls himself Rufford?" demanded Gaywood. "Now I come to think of it, Rufford's that place of Gilly's in Yorkshire! Well, by God, this is a new come-out for him! And all the time bamboozling everyone—"

"He did not!" she said hotly. "You are quite, quite mistaken! He has behaved in the noblest way!"

"Harry!" he exploded. "How can you be such a fool as to let him pitch his gammon to you! Didn't that old cat tell us how she saw him with a girl hanging on his arm, in the most—"

"Yes! And it was you who said, Charlie, that you did not believe a word of it, because she was for ever cutting up characters!"

"Well, I didn't believe it," he admitted. "But if that's the little ladybird, I do now!"

"It is untrue!" Harriet said. "He rescued her from a very awkward situation, and because she is an orphan, and has nowhere to go, he brought her to me!"

"Well, of all the brass-faced things to do!" exclaimed Gaywood. "When I see Sale—Where is he?"

"He is in Bath, but—but he is very much occupied at the present. You will see him presently, I daresay, but if you mean to insult him, Charlie, I shall never, never forgive you!"

These terrible words from his gentle sister quite astonished the Viscount. He looked at her in some concern, and said that he did not know what had come over her. "Of course, you're such a silly little creature, Harry, that you will believe any bubble," he said kindly. "Mind you, there's no harm in Sale's having a mistress in keeping, but to be flaunting her about Bath, and having the dashed impudence to cajole you into giving her countenance is coming it rather too strong, and so I shall tell him!"

"Very well, Gaywood!" said Harriet, with determined calm. "If you are set on making a great goose of yourself, you must do so! Perhaps you will tell him as well that you do not like his
flaunting
a schoolboy about Bath either!"

"What schoolboy?" demanded Gaywood.

She was obliged to divulge some part of the Duke's adventures. Fortunately, Gaywood was so much entertained by a description of Tom's behaviour that she was able to gloss over Belinda's part in the story. She was grieved to think that she had exposed the Duke to her brother's ridicule, but she knew the erratic Viscount well enough to feel tolerably sure that amusement would effectually banish righteous indignation from his mind.

The Duke, meanwhile, had sallied forth to buy himself some neckcloths and handkerchiefs. He was careful to avoid the fashionable quarter of the town, and had therefore the greatest difficulty in finding any neckcloths which Nettlebed would not instantly have given away to an under-footman. On his return to the Pelican he ran into Tom, who said that he had spent all his money, and was hungry. The Duke took him off to a pastry-cook's shop, where, as it was a good three hours since he had partaken of a breakfast consisting of ham, eggs, about half a sirloin of cold beef, and a loaf of bread, he was able to do justice to a meat-pie, several jam-puffs, and a syllabub. Tom was inclined to think poorly of Bath, which city offered few attractions to a young gentleman of his tastes. He said, with a wistful gleam in his eye, that it would enliven the town to put aniseed on the hooves of some of the fat carriage-horses he had seen in Milsom Street, but added virtuously that he had refrained from purchasing any of this useful commodity, his intuition having warned him that putting aniseed on horses' hooves was a pastime of which his protector would not approve. The Duke assured him that his instinct had not misled him, and rewarded him for his saintly conduct by giving him sixpence, and sending him off to the Sydney Gardens, with a promise that he would find there bowling-greens, grottoes, labyrinths, and Merlin swings. He set him on his way, accompanying him as far as to Argyle Buildings, and watching him traverse Laura Place towards Great Pulteney Street; and then turned with the intention of walking down Bridge Street. But just as he had crossed the river again, he caught sight of a lady who looked alarmingly like one of his aunt's friends, and he promptly dived down a side-street. A very large gentleman who, with two companions, had been observing him narrowly, ejaculated: "That's the scoundrel, you mark my words! A little dab of a man in an olive-green coat! After him, now!" The Duke, having removed himself from the vicinity of his aunt's acquaintance, saw no need for haste, and was walking sedately along the narrow street. The sound of heavy-footed and somewhat hard-breathing pursuit made him turn his head, but as he did not recognize any of the three persons thudding behind him he did not connect the chase with himself, but merely looked rather surprised, and stepped aside to allow them to pass him. The foremost of them, whom he perceived to be a constable, reached him first, and shot out a hand, ejaculating: "Halt! Name of Rufford?"

"Yes," said the Duke blankly. "What—"

The large man, who was puffing alarmingly, exclaimed: "Ha! He owns it! Impudent rogue! Officer, arrest him! You villain, where is my son?"

"Good God!" said the Duke. "Are you Mr. Mamble?"

"Ay, my lad, I am Mr. Mamble, as you'll find to your cost!" said the large gentleman grimly. "Snape, is this the fellow who gave you a ding on the head?"

The third gentleman, who was nearly as brawny as his employer, said hastily: "I never saw the man, sir! You know I told you I was taken unawares!"

"Well, it don't make any odds!" said Mr. Mamble. "He admits he's this Rufford. Ay, and I'll soon Rufford you, my lad! Why don't you arrest him, you fool?"

"On what charge?" asked the Duke calmly.

"Charge of kidnapping!" the constable informed him. "You come along quiet, now, and no argy-bargy!"

"Nonsense!" said the Duke. "I haven't kidnapped your son, Mr. Mamble. In fact, I have just sent you an express concerning him."

Mr. Mamble's countenance slowly assumed a purple hue. "You heard that, Snape?" he said. "He's sent me an express! By God, if ever I met such a brazen rogue! So you want a ransom, do you, my cully? Well, you ain't going to get one! The man hasn't been foaled as can diddle Sam Mamble, and when he is he won't be a snirp the like of you, that I can tell you!"

"I don't want a ransom, I did not knock Mr. Snape on the head, or kidnap your son, and my name is not Rufford!" said the Duke.

"Now, that won't do!" the constable said severely. "I axed you, and you admitted it! You'll come along to the Roundhouse, that's what you'll do!"

"I wish you will not be so hasty!" the Duke said, addressing himself to Mr. Mamble. "If you will accompany me to the Pelican Inn, I will engage to satisfy you on all counts, but I really cannot do so in the open street!"

"You perceive, sir, what an artful rogue he is!" Mr. Snape said, plucking at Mr. Mamble's sleeve. "Do not trust him!"

"Sam Mamble never trusted no one!" announced Mr. Mamble comprehensively. "Where's my son, villain?"

The Duke opened his mouth, and shut it again. He had taken an instant dislike to the unctuous Mr. Snape, and felt that to betray Tom's whereabouts at this stage would be a dastardly act.

"Ha! So you think you won't say, do you? We'll see to that!" said Mr. Mamble.

"On the contrary, I am perfectly willing to restore your son to you," replied the Duke. "But I have a few things to say to you first!"

"If I have to listen to any more of this fellow's impudence, I'll bust!" said Mr. Mamble. "What the devil makes you stand there like a fool, Snape? Go and call up a hack!"

Mr. Snape said obsequiously that he had only been awaiting a command to do so, and hurried off. The Duke tried to remove the constable's hand from his shoulder, failed, and said wearily: "You are making a mistake, you know. If you must have it, I'm the Duke of Sale!"

This disclosure produced anything rather than the desired effect. Both his auditors were for the moment struck dumb by such effrontery, and then combined to revile him. Upon reflection, he was obliged to own that their disbelief was not surprising. Several passers-by had by this time gathered round, and rather than run the risk of creating a scene in the street the Duke abandoned the attempt to argue with his captors. When Mr. Snape presently reappeared in a hackney, he got into it without protest, and allowed himself to be driven to the Roundhouse. Mr. Mamble was urgent with the constable to seek out a magistrate directly, but the constable seemed to think that the matter first called for closer investigation. So the whole party trooped into the Roundhouse, where the Duke speedily learned that he was being accused of having (with or without accomplices) laid a cunning plot to kidnap Tom, felled Mr. Snape to the earth, and made off with his charge with intent to hold him to ransom. He glanced contemptuously at the tutor, and said: "Yes, I had thought from what Tom told me that you were a shabby, mean sort of a fellow, and I suppose it might be expected that you would concoct some such tale to protect yourself! It was Tom who hit you on the head, and I think you know that, and are hoping that he will be too much frightened to tell the truth."

"Sir, I am persuaded I have no need to deny such a wicked charge!" said Mr. Snape, looking appealingly at his employer.

"The truth," said the Duke, ignoring him, "is that I came upon your son, sir, near Baldock. He informed me that he had escaped from his tutor, and was desirous of going either to London, or to the sea-coast, where he had some notion of shipping on a barque as cabin-boy. He had had the misfortune to fall in with a couple of foot-scamperers, who had manhandled and robbed him. He was in a sad case, and I took him back to the inn where I was putting-up." He smiled. "Perhaps I should have insisted on his returning to you then and there, but I had a great deal of sympathy with him, for I was much beset by tutors myself." He added reflectively: "And I don't know that I could have made him do it, for he would undoubtedly have run away had I suggested any such thing. Altogether it seemed to me that he would be safer in my company than wandering alone about the country. I had intended to have taken him to London, but various unforeseen circumstances arose which made it imperative for me to come instead to Bath. That is the whole matter in a nutshell."

Mr. Mamble, who had listened in fulminating wrath, expressed the opinion that he was a practised rogue, and besought the constable to do his duty. The constable, who had been slightly impressed by the Duke's manner, said in an aloof way that he knew his duty without being told it, and asked the Duke for his full name.

"Adolphus Gillespie Vernon Ware," responded the Duke coolly. "Would you wish me also to recite my titles to you?"

Mr. Mamble roared out: "Stow that foolery, will you? Your name's Rufford!"

"No, that is merely one of my minor titles," said the Duke.

The constable laid down his pen. "Now, look'ee here!" he said mildly. "If so be you're his Grace of Sale, you'll have to prove it, because it don't seem a likely tale, and you don't look like no Duke, nor you wouldn't be staying at the Pelican!"

Mr. Snape smiled with malign satisfaction. "No doubt you have your visiting-card upon you, sir?" he said.

"Ay, that's the dandy!" agreed the constable, brightening, and looking hopefully at the Duke.

The Duke, now quite confirmed in his dislike of Mr. Snape, said, flushing slightly: "No. I have not. I—I am travelling strictly incognito."

Mr. Mamble gave a crack of sardonic mirth. "Ay, I'll be bound you are! How much more time am I to waste kicking my heels here?"

"But I have got my watch!" suddenly remembered the Duke, drawing it from his pocket, and laying it upon the table. "You will perceive that it is engraved with my arms on one side, and with the letter S on the other."

All three men closely inspected the timepiece, and the constable began to look uneasy. However, Mr. Snape pointed out that such a daring rogue would make nothing of picking pockets, and was felt to have scored a point. The constable then had a happy thought, and said with some relief: "It's easy settled, and it won't do for me to go making no mistakes. I'll have a man go out to Cheyney, which is his Grace of Sale's place, and if this gentleman is the Duke he can easy be identified by them as knows him!"

Mr. Mamble, who had watching the Duke, said shrewdly: "Don't like the sound of that, eh, my fine fellow?"

The Duke did not like the sound of it at all. It seemed to him more than probable that those in charge of Cheyney would spurn with contumely the suggestion that he might be in the Roundhouse at Bath; while if it was disclosed to them that he had come to Bath with one coat and no attendants they would quite certainly refuse to believe it. He was not really at all anxious that they should believe it, either, for they would be very much shocked, and he would find himself obliged to enter into long and fatiguing explanations.