Christmas at Candleshoe (21 page)

So here we are, my honest Neighbour and myself, at Jar together and by the Ears over these same Paintings, which is surely a bad Sequel to a worse Business. All this Afternoon did we debate the Matter, with Squire Candleshoe very hot – and outrageous, too, in Expression and Suggestion, as that
he should render me the Swan but allow me never a Collop of the Wench
, or that we had best cleave the Schiavone in twain,
himself to have the Ladies and myself to be well-suited by the Fellow with the Horns
. And thus are we parted with high Words and short Tempers; and Nothing settled betwixt us in a Matter that both Discretion and Decency cry aloud to see softly handled.

1721. 18 May.
The First Part of the Contention betwixt the Two Famous Houses of Candleshoe and Benison
(to
parody
the Title of the old Play) is now acted out and settled – and altogether to the Advantage of the younger Line. Yet while I rejoice at this Success, and at the just Castigation of the Insolence of my irascible Neighbour, I am yet apprehensive of the Scandal like to be spread (at least so far as the Boundaries of our County) by the wild Events of the last Night; and of suffering somewhat in my Dignity as
First Earl
by
un Eclat de rire
such as lively Rumours of the same may occasion.

And here I must unaffectedly confess (to the Privacy of this inviolate Page) that at my first Sight of Tiziano’s Leda I did myself judge her a monstrous fine Woman (although so ill employed), and that his Lollia Paulina too appeared to me of a Rarity much excelling those Jewels with which the Painter (by a Licence to be reprobated from an
Ethick
Point of View) had alone adorned her. From this I was led to the Consideration that my Rupert, as a Lad from his earliest Years bred to the greatest Refinement and Politeness, as also to the Conversation of Women of the first Quality, was likelier by far than our good Squire’s honest Jack to have been the original Appraiser, and consequent sole Purchaser, of these exalted Productions of a Master’s Brush. When to this I added the further Thought, that the Objects of which the Property was thus disputed had been freely conveyed to, and now reposed in, a Building incontestably mine, and to which None have any Right or Title of Entrance save by my Leave, it did appear to me that the old Doctrine, whereby Possession is declared to be
nine-tenths of the Law
, might well be acted upon, and that with all Speed possible.

Thus it was that Yesterday (but biding my Time until Dusk, that the Matter might be carried through in a decent Privateness) I despatched Three or Four (such as were of a Discretion I could trust) with a Wagon to
Solomon’s Cottage
, that they might bring these three Paintings (alike the Tizianos and the Schiavone, being itself, although less valuable, a sportive Work
d’un vrai Divertissement
) with all Haste and Quietness to Benison. For I made bold to think that, once hung in my Great Gallery or octagon room, there would be but small Hazard that those Trophies of my dear Boy’s Purity of Taste (as I now saw it to be) would ever depart thence to an obscure Lodgement at Candleshoe.

But here was a Train of Reflection upon which
Two
might fall. And thus came it about that my Servants, proceeding at my Command upon this lawful Occasion, were at the
Cottage
hotly encountered by a like Number of Squire Candleshoe’s Men, most nefariously and thievishly furnished with a Wagon to an identical Purpose with mine. Thence followed a notable Skirmish, with diverse bloody Cockscombs and (I fear) at least one broken Crown – the Hurly-burly receiving vast Increase (ere all was over) from several Reinforcements on either Side gathered from the nearer Villages. Yet out of all this great Disgrace (as Persons of any civil Breeding must unfeignedly conceive it) has come this fair Conclusion: that while the worthy Squire indeed has escaped away with the Schiavone and certain other Paintings of little or no Name, my dear Rupert’s more truly inspired Purchases (the Leda and the Lollia of Tiziano, to wit) are now safe within the Portals of Benison. This Morning, it is true, being something too incensed by the Temerity of my Neighbour, I took Horse for Candleshoe, intent to demand that the third Painting be lawfully rendered me. But finding the Squire (who had been advised of my Approach) standing to Arms upon his Threshold, with a most martial Levy of his Retainers arrayed behind him, and himself crying out that
did I want the horned Fellow a-peeping at the Ladies, I might come in and find him
, I judged it well to speak him fair, and as if turning the Matter to a notable Jest. For it would be an inconvenient Thing, if Cognizance of all this were taken by some officious Justice; and it could be said that
a Nobleman and a Gentleman of the County had been summoned to keep the Peace together, after coming to Blows over the Spoils of a detected Bawdyhouse.

1721. 30 May. Caused to be hung in my Great Gallery my two new-acquired Paintings by Tiziano Vecelli (formerly styled Da Cadore), being that Artist commonly reckoned by the Curious first among all those out of
Italy
. Both mighty fine, and in the Leda I do begin to perceive a great Sweetness in the Expression, as also
une certaine Rondeur des Fesses,
that alike do most charmingly remind me of my Ever-to-be-Honoured Mother’s Maid, Betty Brown, the first that I well remember to have –

But here Company obliges me to lay down my Pen.
Une belle Assemblée
is like to be with us this Evening, and I propose no small Pleasure to myself in my two new Evidences of that Correct Taste and those Liberal Expenditures which steadily enhance the Elegance of
Benison Court
.

‘If that isn’t a deuced queer thing.’ As Mr Archdeacon finished his reading, and as Arthur Spendlove let in his clutch with what in a less seasoned car would have been a jerk, Lord Scattergood spoke with some emphasis. ‘I’m quite sure I never heard this yarn before.’

‘Precisely.’ Mr Archdeacon paused to get his pipe in commission. ‘It is only lately, as you know, that I have come to work through the first earl’s papers. Had these circumstances been known to me in 1939–’

‘You wouldn’t have handed back this disputed property to the Candleshoes on a plate.’ Arthur chuckled. ‘What mugs they must have thought us. Supposing, that is, they knew.’

‘They must have known, Arthur, or they would scarcely have played this trick on us.’ Lord Scattergood, conscious in this of a large stroke of intellectual clarity, banged so vigorously on the seat in front of him that Dr Rosenwald for a brief moment came awake again. ‘But, my dear Archdeacon, did the old girl
behave
as if she knew? Can you recall anything to suggest that those particular paintings meant something to her?’

‘I cannot say that I do. Miss Candleshoe was concerned to drive a bargain in point of what she was to store for us; and she was not without acuteness in the matter of insurance. But in the particular works involved, and their qualities, she appeared not interested. It was, I fear, her attitude that nothing from Benison was likely to be of the first quality. All this, however, may well have been dissimulation. Miss Candleshoe may well have been gloating inwardly at the strange opportunity our proposal was bringing her.’

‘Gloating?’ A just indignation was evidently beginning to rise in Lord Scattergood. ‘I’d call that a shocking thing, you know – a most unneighbourly thing.’

‘I agree with you, Marquess. We must remember, however, that Squire Candleshoe must have formed just such a judgement upon the Earl’s conduct in 1721. It is only too probable, I fear, that Miss Candleshoe, a woman of strong family piety, as she contemplated the Leda and the Lollia, reflected that thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.’

‘That her chance had come – eh?’

‘It must be entertained as a tenable hypothesis. On the other hand, Miss Candleshoe may be blameless. And I have myself little to go upon, since my commerce with her upon the relevant occasion was restricted and indeed inconsiderable. I dealt in the main with a housekeeper – an unusual woman, whom I have cause to remember with some particularity. She died, I believe, very shortly after. I wondered at the time whether I ought – But that is another story. And now a fresh consideration presents itself to me. Armigel.’

‘Eh?’

‘There was then – as there is now – living with Miss Candleshoe a retired clergyman of the name of Armigel. He acted as a domestic chaplain.’

‘Services on the spot and as required? The sort of thing we bring in the Bishop for from time to time?’ Lord Scattergood was impressed. ‘Arthur – do you hear that? Dashed convenient notion.’

‘But mark.’ Mr Archdeacon, as he delivered himself of this injunction, turned round and pointed the stem of his pipe at his employer. ‘Not the present employment of Armigel, but rather something that I now recall of his first profession, is the circumstance to which some large significance may well attach. Let me be brief.’

As Arthur heard these ominous words he swung the car off the high road between two unimpressive stone columns. ‘Capital! For here we are.’

‘Let me be
very
brief. Armigel’s first profession was that of artist. He was a painter – although I believe an undistinguished one.’

‘Then that settles it!’ Lord Scattergood’s righteous wrath was now given unrestricted issue. ‘This scoundrel copied our Titians at his leisure; and substituted his beastly efforts for the real thing, when the time came to send them back to Benison. Upon my soul, if he wasn’t a clergyman, I’d have him sent to gaol.’

‘You’d be laughed at for your pains.’ Arthur spoke with conviction. ‘The whole story of Solomon’s Cottage would come out, and then…’ Arthur broke off abruptly, and braked so hard that they were all thrown forward in their seats. ‘Something’s fallen across the drive. It’s a tree.’ He switched off his engine. ‘We can’t get any farther.’

‘Then we must get out and walk.’ Lord Scattergood’s vein of high lucidity held. ‘Archdeacon, my dear fellow, I’m sorry to give you this inconvenience. But we must decidedly go right ahead.’

‘By all means Marquess. There is small hardship in a brief nocturnal perambulation on such a night. But what of our Roman friend?’

Lord Scattergood, as he prepared to step from the car, gave Dr Rosenwald an experimental shake. ‘Leave him behind – eh Arthur? Send for him if we want him.’

‘Just that.’ Arthur was already scrambling over the fallen tree. ‘The house isn’t a quarter of a mile.’

‘Then it should all be plain sailing.’ Lord Scattergood lent a solicitous arm to his librarian as he in turn negotiated the obstacle. ‘We present ourselves, explain that the imposture is detected, and take the Titians quietly home with us. No need to admit that it has made us a bit hot under the collar – what?’

‘An admirable proposal, Marquess. As your politic ancestor put it, restrain any irascible word in the interest of neighbourly feeling.’

Arthur allowed himself a sceptical laugh. ‘And hope that Miss Candleshoe will be subdued, if not mollified, by an inflexible exhibition of superior breeding? Well, we can only try. And good humour will certainly be the note on which to begin.’

‘I don’t anticipate any trouble.’ A mood of confidence appeared to grow in the rightful owner of the Leda and the Lollia as he trudged up the neglected and moonlit drive towards Candleshoe. ‘Lucky that we have come by night, you know. Less chance of gossip. A firm line and – believe me – everything will go off very quietly.’

‘It is certainly very quiet now.’ Mr Archdeacon spoke almost dreamily from amid his cloud of tobacco. ‘The imagination of a poet could scarcely propose to itself a scene of more unflawed tranquillity. See, my dear Marquess, how sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! It will be within the scope of your recollection that Shakespeare–’

Abruptly, Mr Archdeacon’s discourse broke off. For on this so tranquil night another voice had made itself heard. It was close at hand, and its tone was uncompromising.

‘Stand quite still. I have a gun, and I can drop any two of you.’

‘Now, what would be the meaning of that?’ Lord Scattergood stops and peers ahead with considerable interest. The moonlight, although doubtless sleeping upon banks much as at Belmont, is an uncertain and low-powered affair, so that it is difficult to distinguish much. Just ahead, the drive appears to take one of its numerous twists and disappear into shadows. It is from this obscurity that the voice has spoken, and now it speaks again. Loud but level, it conveys every impression of intending business.

‘I mean to continue getting right out of this. You can surround me, you can outflank me, you can rush me. But I can get two of you, or perhaps three, before you get me. So that may mean any of you – get that? Maybe it would be healthier if you were to quit.’

Lord Scattergood moves on again. ‘Odd – eh? What would you make of it, Arthur?’

‘I suppose we are being addressed by one of the fellows who were so interested in the paintings when Archdeacon was showing people round. They are here before us, sure enough. What would you say, Archdeacon?’

‘I am in agreement with you, Lord Arthur. We are in dubitably being addressed by a criminal… How treacherous the surface of this drive is! In this uncertain light it is positively dangerous.’

‘You’ve been warned. Stop, or I drop you dead.’

‘Incompetent – what?’ Lord Scattergood shakes his deerstalker in the moonlight. ‘If he wants to get away, why keep shouting at us? Sounds almost as if attracting attention was his idea.’

‘It rather does.’ Arthur is puzzled.

‘Well, he shall get it.’ Lord Scattergood speaks with some asperity, and quickens his pace. ‘Let me just catch sight of him, and I shall tell him precisely what I think.’

‘It’s your last chance. I tell you to stop.’

‘Indubitably what is called a gangster.’ Mr Archdeacon pronounced this with assurance. ‘The accent is decisive. I have frequently heard it in the cinema.’