Masqueraders (26 page)

‘Oh, at least a dozen!’ answered his lordship airily. ‘I rejected them all; they were too clumsy. And I want Markham out of the way, besides. He were far better dead. You will attend to that. Consider also that this way I present you to your lady in the guise of a hero. It is a
tour-de-force
,
and as such—irresistible to me!’ He smiled benignantly. ‘Until now you are a woman in her eyes; she has no chance to fall in love with you. When you are disclosed a man she might even feel anger. But I arrange that you shall be her deliverer. In a word, I provide for your romance at the very moment of removing the last boulder from my own path. When I think on it, my son, I begin, faintly, to realise the extent of my greatness.’

For the life of him Robin could not help laughing. Faith, how like the old gentleman to choose a way so tortuous and intricate. But to place Letty in such a position—to work so on her fears—that was unpardonable. ‘I believe you mean well, sir, but I must censure your methods. I could have got that paper from Markham without drawing Letty in.’

‘But how crude! how unworthy a scheme when placed beside mine!’ protested my lord. ‘And you forget that I arrange this way the death of Markham. A person of such boorish manners is not fit to remain in the same world with me. You must perceive the truth of that.’

Whether Robin saw the matter in quite that light is doubtful. He was dwelling on Letty’s share of the plot, and he waxed more indignant still. ‘Markham held that letter over her poor little head? He was cur enough to work on her fears for her father? He forced her to agree to a fresh elopement? My God, sir, you need not be afraid that he will live many days longer!’ He rose, and fell to pacing the room. His skirts rustled, and the big hoop swayed to a stride no woman would take. ‘Oh, I see my way! Without this I might well have hesitated to meet even an enemy of yours with the notion of killing him, sir! But this changes things; I grant you some subtlety, sir, but don’t ask me to approve a plan that involves my Letitia so damnably. When do they fly?’

‘To-morrow. That I have from our inestimable John. Change of horses has been ordered at Barnet. The strangeness of the hour made the discovery of the rest simple. Letitia goes in a party to Vauxhall Gardens. What easier to be lost in the crowd there? It will be some time before her absence is even noticed. It is really quite clever of my Munich friend to think of Vauxhall. You, my Robin, may stop them with little inconvenience to yourself on Finchley Common. You will, of course, be masked. I leave the details to you. I make no doubt you will arrange all to my satisfaction.’

Robin paused in his pacing. ‘I shall.’ His eyes were alight. Concern for Letty had faded a little before the sheer joy of battle. He stretched his arms exultantly. ‘Ah, to feel a sword in my hand again!’ he said, and made an imaginary pass in the air. ‘Not pistols—no, no, that would be clumsy. Am I not your son?’

My lord became enthusiastic. ‘You are, my Robin! I perceive some shadow of myself in you. Remove my Munich friend! Do not unmask: you shall remain a mystery to your Letitia for a little while yet, but not for long! Remove me this Markham from the path, and you shall see me go swiftly forward to the promised goal. I am Tremaine of Barham!’

Robin looked sceptical. ‘Are you, sir! I wonder!’

‘So too did Markham,’ said my lord. ‘So do you all, and there is only one who knows the truth concerning me. It affords me infinite amusement. I say nothing: all shall soon be disclosed.’ He picked up his hat. ‘I leave you to your plans, my Robin. See you do not bungle them. There must be no suspicion of your identity. Play the highwayman, and take John along with you. But I don’t interest myself in the petty details; you will think on them at your leisure. By my reckoning, and you will hardly question it, they should leave Vauxhall at nine in the evening, maybe later. It does not signify.
Au revoir
,
my son! I wish you, though there is not the need, all success!’ He waved his hand and was gone next instant, through the doorway into the hall beyond. There he came upon his daughter returned from a morning’s ride with Charles Belfort. He tapped her cheek with one indulgent finger, and said gaily: ‘My Prudence! You come too late to hear the tale of my achievement. You will find your brother in amaze.’

‘Lord, sir!’ said Prudence placidly, and watched him go out. She was chuckling a little: he had always the effect of making her laugh. She went into the room he had left, and found Robin biting his fingers in meditation. ‘What’s the old gentleman so pleased about now, Robin?’ she asked. ‘Is there work for us afoot?’

He looked up, appraising her. ‘Have you a mind to it? It’s to be rescue, and slaughter, child!’

‘You shock me,’ said Prudence, sitting down upon the table’s edge. ‘Count on me; you will need me belike. What’s toward?’

CHAPTER XXIII

The Fight by Moonlight

Such a romantic venture as an elopement from Vauxhall Gardens should have delighted Miss Letty, in love with excitement, but alack! she performed her part sadly, in a spirit very different from that in which she had run away with this same gentleman so short a while back. Then it had been done with dare-devilry, and in expectation of romance; now it was done with a heavy heart dwelling on a Black Domino with an elusive, tantalising smile.

Miss Letty had to admit she was reaping the reward of past folly. Ruefully she reflected that if she had never allowed herself to become dazzled in the first place by Mr Markham’s wiles and compliments she would not now have been in a situation so gloomy and hopeless.

She had not been able to think of a way out of the difficulty. Her ideas of law and treason were very vague; she thought that incriminating letter of her father’s so fraught with danger that she dared do nothing but what Mr Markham told her, for fear of what awful things might happen. Before she could take any measures against him she must have the letter safe. She thought she might perhaps be able to steal it from him while he slept, for in spite of his talk of heading straight for Scotland she knew very well that he must break the journey sooner or later. It was a forlorn hope, and failing it she could shoot him, she supposed, if only there were a pistol to her hand.

She had never visited Vauxhall with so little pleasure before; it was as though the brilliantly-lit gardens, all a-hum with festivity, were a place of execution. It was easy—wretchedly easy, she thought—to slip away from the rest of her party. She drew her cloak around her, and hurried away down a walk lit by lanterns to the appointed meeting place. Mr Markham was there, and he showed relief at seeing her, and took her hand. It was withdrawn. ‘I may be forced to marry you,’ said Letty acidly, ‘but at least you shan’t touch me till then.’

It was no part of Mr Markham’s plan to goad her to rebellion. He begged her pardon, and led her swiftly away down the winding walks till they came to an entrance to the gardens. He told her then to pull the hood over her head. She obeyed listlessly, and in a very short time found herself seated in a post-chaise beside her hated lover.

She drew far into her own corner. ‘You might at least ride beside the coach!’ she said. ‘Can you not see how much I detest you?’

He had her safe at last; he cared nothing for her whims; he could even afford to be generous. ‘Bear with me, my dear. I won’t plague you with talk.’

‘You had much better not,’ said Letty, ‘for I should certainly not answer.’

This was not a very promising beginning, Mr Markham thought. When a haughty shoulder was resolutely turned on him he decided that Miss Letitia needed a lesson. His fingers itched to slap her, but he controlled the desire, remembering that there was a lifetime ahead in which to tame a refractory wife. Frightened for her father’s safety as she undoubtedly was she was yet quite capable of raising a disturbance if he tried her too far. So he sat back in his own corner and meditated with some satisfaction on the excellence of his plans, and the delightful time to come.

Letty’s thoughts were not so pleasant. The only food for comfort she could find lay in the pistol holster beside her. There was a weapon in it, large and clumsy for her little hands, but still a weapon.

Mr Markham observed the direction of her glance and smiled grimly. ‘Ay, you’re a violent piece, aren’t you? You’d shoot me if you had the chance, I’ll lay my life. The pistol’s not loaded. Yes, there’s another my side, but it’s in the same state. The only loaded pistol, my dear, lies snug in my pocket and there it will stay.’

Letty vouchsafed no answer. She gave herself up to the concoction of a plan to get that gun away from her bridegroom. She could evolve nothing but the haziest of schemes, and involuntarily her thoughts drifted on to the contemplation of the impossible. This time there was no large Tony to come after her. She had left no note of farewell, and it would be hours perhaps before her father knew of her flight. Even then he could have no means of knowing whither she had gone. There were no quick-witted Merriots either, and, worst of all, no stranger in a Black Domino.

Well, she was a great fool to think of the Unknown, who was in all probability nothing but a young buck bent on amusing himself at the expense of a silly chit. Once tied up to this monster at her side she had best banish the Unknown entirely from her thoughts: he could no longer be of avail.

She looked miserably out of the window at the tall houses slipping by. There were flambeaux at a few of the doors, but a bright moon cast a silver light over all, and made lamps superfluous. They were travelling at a prodigious speed; to be sure, Mr Markham meant to lose no time in putting London well behind him. In a very short while, so it seemed to poor Letty, the houses grew further and further apart, and at length stopped altogether. She had very little idea of where they were: on that other journey north she had noticed nothing. She saw a heath soon, dotted over with clumps of bushes, casting long black shadows in the moonlight and some tall larch trees stretching up to a sapphire sky. There was nothing else to be seen, and Letty had never felt less in the mood for admiring the beauties of Nature. She pulled her cloak closer about her still, and looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. She would not cry, however hard a fight it might be to keep the tears back. The monster beside her should not have that satisfaction.

On went the coach, bumping and jolting over the bad road. The pace had slackened somewhat: one could not drive hell-for-leather along the highways of England; they were not in a state for such usage.

They had been passing through this desolate heath some way when she thought she caught the sound of horses galloping: horses other than the ones that were drawing her to her doom. Scarcely had her ears been made aware of this sound than there came a thunder of hoofs, a shout, a lurch, and a medley of confused noises as the coach was pulled quickly to a standstill. A pistol shot sounded; there was a yell of terror from the box, and at the same moment the glass in the window by Mr Markham was shattered by a blow with something made of metal, and a small gold-mounted pistol held by a slim white hand pointed straight at Mr Markham’s heart.

It had all happened so quickly that Markham, no less than Letitia, was taken quite by surprise. From the moment of the horses being pulled up to the moment of the breaking glass there had been no more time than sufficed to sit up exclaiming: ‘What’s toward?’ Before Markham could pull the pistol from his pocket he was covered, and had perforce to sit perfectly still, glaring at that deadly barrel.

Letty’s heart beat fast. It was a highwayman, beyond all doubt, but she was not in the least afraid. Nothing could be worse than her elopement, and she was inclined to think that it would be better to be killed by a highwayman than to be married to Mr Markham. If fortune smiled Mr Markham might be killed, which would be an excellent thing. She sat up all agog with excitement, and stared through the broken glass at the man who held that pistol.

He was speaking. ‘Put up your hands!’

The voice made Letty jump, so oddly familiar was it. She leaned forward, trying to see the horseman’s face. There was a black mask over his eyes, and a tricorne was pulled low over his brow. He was a slight man, as far as she could see for the many-caped greatcoat that enveloped him. A wild hope sprang up in her breast: she peered at the stranger’s right hand, holding the pistol just inside the window. There was a glint of gold on the little finger. The hand moved a fraction, and the moonlight caught a ring, cunningly wrought.

‘The Unknown!’ Letty gasped, and began to tremble with excitement, relief, and a queer glad sensation she had never known till now.

‘Hands up!’ The voice was sharp and compelling. There was nothing for Markham to do but to raise his arms above his head. Inwardly he was cursing: this meant not only delay, but loss of all the money he had brought with him.

‘Madam,’—the Unknown was speaking to Letty, but he did not take his eyes from Markham’s face—‘oblige me by searching this gentleman’s pockets for a pistol.’

Letty pulled herself together. He spoke as to a stranger: she was not to know him then. Oh, here was romance indeed! Romance, and a rescue such as she had not dreamed to be possible. She pushed back her cloak, and with hands that shook, but with a business-like determination in her small face, dived into the pocket nearest her. There was nothing there. She stretched an arm across Mr Markham, taking care not to obtrude herself between his person and the Unknown’s pistol, and felt in the right-hand pocket. As her fingers closed round the butt of a pistol she felt Mr Markham’s hard breathing, and guessed his impotent fury. With a little laugh caught in her throat she pulled out the weapon. ‘I have it, sir! I’ll take care of it!’