The Foundling (38 page)

"You are a consummate rogue!" said Gideon forthrightly.

"Sir," responded Mr. Liversedge, "I must protest against the use of that epithet! A consummate rogue, you will allow, is a rogue from choice, and feels no compunction for his roguery. With me it is far otherwise, I assure you. Particularly have my feelings been wrung by the plight of your noble relative—a most amiable young man, and one whom I was excessively loth to put to inconvenience!"

"You scoundrel, you would have murdered him at a word from me!" Gideon exclaimed.

"That," said Mr. Liversedge firmly, "would have been your responsibility, Captain Ware."

At this point, Wragby, who from his seat behind them had been listening to this conversation, interposed to beg his master to pull up so that he might have the pleasure of drawing Mr. Liversedge's cork.

"No," said Gideon. "I prefer to hand him over in due course to the Law."

"I am persuaded," said Mr. Liversedge, "that when I have restored your relative to you, as I am really anxious to do, you will think better of that unhandsome notion, sir. Ingratitude is a vice which I abhor!"

"We shall see what my relative has to say about it," replied Gideon grimly.

Mr. Liversedge, who could not feel that forty-eight hours spent in a dark cellar would engender in his victim any feelings of mercy, relapsed into a depressed silence.

But his mercurial spirits could not long remain damped, and by the time Gideon stopped to change horses, he had recovered enough to regale him with a very entertaining anecdote to his first employer's discredit. While Wragby besought the ostlers to fig out two lively ones, and made arrangements for the Captain's own horses to be led back to London, he considered the chances of escape; but even his hopeful mind was obliged to realize that these were slim. However, he was a great believer in Providence, and he could not but feel that Providence would intervene on his behalf before the end of the journey. He had not yet divulged the locality of the Duke's prison, and he had not been urged to do so. Captain Ware was taking it for granted that he would lead him to it. Upon reflection, Mr. Liversedge acknowledged gloomily that unless something quite unforeseen occurred this was precisely what he would do.

Baldock was reached all too soon for his taste, and without the slightest sign of an intervention by Providence. Captain Ware reined in his horses in the middle of the broad street, let them drop to a walk, and said: "You may now direct me, Mr. Liversedge. Unless you would prefer me to enquire the way to the nearest magistrate? It is all one to me."

Mr. Liversedge was irritated by this remark, and answered with some asperity: "Now that, sir, is a manifestly false observation! It is
not
all one to you—or would not be to a gentleman of the smallest sensibility! Nothing, I am persuaded, could be further from your wishes than to create a stir over this business! In fact, the more I think on it, the more convinced I become that you and your noble relatives will be very much in my debt if I contrive the affair without anyone's being the wiser. Consider what must be the result if I compel you to call in the Law! Not only will his Grace—"

He stopped, for it was apparent to him that Captain Ware was not attending. The Captain, glancing idly at an approaching tilbury, had stiffened suddenly, and pulled his horses up dead. "Matt!" he thundered. The next instant he had perceived that Nettlebed was sitting beside his cousin in the tilbury, and he ejaculated: "Good God!"

Young Mr. Ware, on being hailed in such startling accents, jumped as though he had been shot, and dragged his horse to a standstill. "Gideon!" he gasped. "You here? Gideon, something has happened to Gilly! Something
must
have happened, because—oh, we can't talk here, in the road!"

"Yes, something has indeed happened to Gilly," replied his cousin. "But what the devil are you doing here, and what do you know about it?"

Mr. Ware looked extremely wretched, and said: "It is all my fault, and I wish I had never consented to let him—But how was I to guess—though I
told
him I knew something would happen to him if he persisted! And then, when Nettlebed came to Oxford, and told me—"

"I suspicioned Mr. Matthew had a hand in it," said Nettlebed, with ghoulish satisfaction. "Sitting up till all hours, and keeping his Grace from his bed, the way he was, the very day before he went off! If I hadn't been so set-about, I should have thought of Mr. Matthew sooner, no question!"

"I never asked him to do it, and I would not have!" Matthew said hotly. "He
would
go, in spite of all I could say!"

"Come to the George!" commanded Gideon. "I'd better get to the bottom of this before I do anything else. I suppose you're in a scrape again!"

"Gideon, where is Gilly?" Matthew called after him urgently.

"Kidnapped!" Gideon threw over his shoulder, and drove on towards the posting-inn.

Mr. Liversedge, who had been sitting wrapped in his own thoughts, gave a genteel little cough, and said: "Another relative, I collect, Captain Ware? Possibly—er—Mr. Matthew Ware?"

"You seem to be remarkably well-acquainted with my family!" returned Gideon shortly.

"No," said Mr. Liversedge sadly. "Had I been better acquainted with them—But it is useless to repine! So that is Mr. Ware! Dear me, yes! Strange how the dice will sometimes fall against one, do what one will! I wish I had had the good fortune to have met Mr. Ware earlier. He is just the kind of young man I had supposed him to be. I am not one of those who are unable to judge a matter dispassionately, and I will own that although I might have a personal preference for Mr. Ware, his Grace is the better man."

"You are right," said Gideon, "but what you are talking about I have not the remotest guess!"

"And I wish with all my heart," said Mr. Liversedge, with feeling, "that you might never have the remotest guess, sir!"

Both carriages had by this time reached the George. Gideon sprang down from the curricle, and strode into the house, closely followed by his agitated young cousin, but any hope that Mr. Liversedge might fleetingly have cherished of making good his escape was frustrated by Wragby, who conducted him into the inn in a manner strongly reminiscent of his days in the army.

Gideon having demanded a private parlour, the whole party was conducted to a small apartment on the first floor. Matthew was barely able to contain himself until the door was closed. He burst out into speech as soon as the waiter had withdrawn, exclaiming: "You said he had been kidnapped! But I don't understand; It was all over! He wrote to me that it was!"

"
What
was all over?" demanded Gideon.

"Oh, Gideon!" said Matthew wretchedly, "it is all my fault! I wish I had never told Gilly about it! Who has kidnapped him? And how did you come to hear of it?"

"Ah, you have not yet been presented to Mr. Liversedge!" said Gideon, with a wave of his hand. "Allow me to make him known to you! He kidnapped Gilly, and has been so very obliging as to offer to sell his life to me." He paused, perceiving that this speech had had a strange effect upon Matthew, who was staring at Mr. Liversedge in mingled wrath and bewilderment. "
Now
what is the matter?" he asked.

"So it was you!" said Matthew, his eyes still fixed on Mr. Liversedge's face. "You—you damned scoundrel! You did it for revenge! By God, I have a mind to kill you, you—"

"Nothing of the sort!" said Mr. Liversedge earnestly. "No such paltry notion has ever crossed my brain, sir! I bore your cousin no ill-will—not the least in the world!"

"Sit down!" commanded Gideon. "Matt, what do you know of this fellow, and what's your part in this coil?"

"Ay," nodded Nettlebed, grimly surveying Matthew. "That's what I'd like to know, sir, and tell me he will not!"

"I ought to have told you, Gideon!" Matthew said, sinking into a chair by the table.

"You are going to tell me."

"Yes, but I mean I should have told you before, and never breathed a word to Gilly! Only I thought very likely you would say something cutting, or—But I should have told you! It was a breach of promise, Gideon!"

His cousin was not unnaturally mystified by this abrupt statement. Mr. Liversedge seized the opportunity to interpolate an expostulation. Such ugly words, he said, had never soiled his pen. Wragby then commanded him to shut his bone-box, and Captain Ware, in the voice of one who has reached the limits of his patience, requested Matthew to be a little more explicit. Matthew then favoured him with a somewhat disjointed account of the affair, to which Captain Ware listened with knit brows, and an air of deepening exasperation. He said at last: "You young fool! You're not of age!"

Matthew blinked at him. "What has that to say to anything? I tell you—"

"It has this to say to it! No action for breach of promise can lie against you while you are a minor!"

There was a shocked silence. Mr. Liversedge broke it. "It is perfectly true," he said. "Sir, I shall not conceal from you that this has been a blow to me. How I came to overlook such a circumstance I know not, but that I did overlook it I shall not attempt to deny. I am chagrined—I never thought to be so chagrined!"

"Oh, Gideon, I wish I had told you!" gasped Matthew. "None of this dreadful business need have been at all!"

"No, it need not," said Gideon. "But why the devil didn't Gilly come to me?"

"It was because he was tired of being told always what he should do next," explained Matthew. "He said here was something he might do for himself, and that it would be an adventure, and that if he could not outwit a fellow like this Liversedge he must be less of a man than he believed!"

Mr. Liversedge bowed his head in approval. "Very true! And outwit me he did, sir. Yes, yes, I am not ashamed to I own it! I was quite rolled-up. Your noble relative obtained possession of your letters, Mr. Ware, and without expending as much as a guinea on the business. You have every reason to feel pride in his achievement, I assure you."

Both the Wares turned to stare at him. Gideon said: "How did he outwit you?"

Mr. Liversedge sighed, and shook his head. "Had he not appeared to me to he so young, and so innocent, I should not have fallen a victim to such a trick! But my suspicions were lulled. I thought no ill. Taking advantage, I regret to say, of my trust, he drove a heavy table against my legs, as I was in the act of rising, and felled me to the ground, where, striking my head against the fender of the grate, I lost consciousness. By the time I had regained my senses, his Grace had made good his escape, bearing with him, to my chagrin, the fatal letters."

A slow smile curled Gideon's uncompromising mouth. "Adolphus!" he said softly. "Well done, my little one! So here was your dragon!"

"Drove the table against your legs?" repeated Matthew. "Gilly? Well, by God!"

"So far, so good," said Gideon. "But how came he to fall again into your clutches?"

"That," said Mr. Liversedge evasively, "is a long story, sir. But it should be borne in mind that it is I who have been the humble instrument whereby your interesting relative has met with the adventure his soul craved."

Nettlebed, who had been listening to this interchange with scarcely concealed impatience, interrupted to say fiercely: "You gallows-cheat, you'll say where you have his Grace hid, or you'll have it choked out of you!"

"This fellow lives at the Bird in Hand, that I do know," Matthew declared. "And there Gilly found him, for he told me so!"

"Ay, that's what you say, Master Matthew, but a solid hour have we been in this town, trying to find where this place may be, and not a soul able to tell us!" said Nettlebed bitterly. "And if we can't discover it, how can his Grace have done so?"

"His Grace would appear to have his own ways of going about his business," remarked Gideon, his eyes glinting. "We need exercise no ingenuity, however, for Mr. Liversedge will now guide us to the Bird in Hand. Eh, Mr. Liversedge?"

"Sir," said Mr. Liversedge, with hauteur, "I must perforce yield to
force majeure
."

But when, half an hour later, the curricle and the tilbury drew up outside the shell of the Bird in Hand, he was at last bereft of all power of self-expression, and could only gaze upon the blackened ruins in incredulous dismay. Both Wragby and Nettlebed were inclined to make an end to him then and there, but his amazement was so patent that Gideon intervened to restrain them. "Well, Mr. Liversedge?" he said. "What now have you to say?"

"Sir," said Mr. Liversedge, in some agitation, "when last I saw this hostelry it was indeed a poor place, but, I assure you, intact! What can have occurred to reduce it to this pitiful skeleton, I know not! And what has become of its owner, or, I may add, its noble guest, are matters wholly beyond my powers of conjecture! I confess that they are matters which do not, at this present, exercise my mind profoundly. I have no reason to suppose, Captain Ware, that you are a man of feeling, but even your hardened heart may be touched by the reflection that the few worldly possessions remaining to me were encased in that unworthy building!"

"My hardened heart remains untouched. I want my cousin!" Gideon said brusquely, and touched up his horse. "There must be someone in the village who can tell us when this fire broke out!"

Enquiry in Arlesey led him presently to the cottage inhabited by the Shotterys. Their account of the fire was necessarily imperfect, but they knew enough to be able to convince Gideon that it had been started by his enterprising cousin. He listened to them at first in surprise, and then with his crooked smile. But Nettlebed was quite thunderstruck, and said roundly that he had never known his Grace to do the like, and didn't believe a word of it.

"Peace, fool!" said Gideon. "You know nothing about his Grace—as little as the rest of us! So he won free without our help! He is doing very well, in fact."

"Captain Ware," said Mr. Liversedge warmly, "you are in the right of it! Though I am a sufferer from his ingenuity, I bear him no malice. Indeed, it is very gratifying to see a man so young and so untried acquit himself so creditably! You will permit me to tell you that this little adventure has been the making of him. When I saw him first he was uncertain of himself: he had been too much cosseted, too carefully shielded from contact with the world. The experiences he has passed through will have done him a great deal of good: I have no scruple in asserting it, and it is a happiness to me to reflect that he owes his emancipation to me."