Cynthia's Chauffeur Part 20

CHAPTER VII

WHEREIN CYNTHIA TAKES HER OWN LINE

When the Mercury, s.h.i.+ning from Dale's attentions, halted noiselessly opposite the College Green Hotel on the Sat.u.r.day morning, Count Edouard Marigny was standing there; the Du Vallon was not in evidence, and its owner's attire bespoke other aims than motoring, at any rate for the hour.

Evidently he was well content with himself. A straw hat was set on the back of his head, a cigarette stuck between his lips, his hands were thrust into his trousers pockets, and his feet were spread widely apart. Taken altogether, he had the air of a man without a care in the world.

He smiled, too, in the most friendly fas.h.i.+on, when Medenham's eyes met his.

"I hear that Simmonds is unable to carry out his contract," he said cheerfully.

"You are mistaken, a second time, monsieur," said Medenham.

"Why, then, are _you_ here this morning?"

"I am acting for Simmonds. If anything, my car is slightly superior to his, while I may be regarded as an equally competent driver, so the contract is kept in all essentials."

Marigny still smiled. The Frenchman of mid-Victorian romance would have shelved this point by indulging in "an inimitable shrug"; but nowadays Parisians of the Count's type do not shrug--with John Bull's clothing they have adopted no small share of his stolidness.

"It is immaterial," he said. "I have sent my man to offer him my Du Vallon, and Smith will go with him to explain its humors. You, as a skilled motorist, understand that a car is of the feminine gender.

Like any other charming demoiselle, it demands the exercise of tact--it yields willingly to gentle handling----"

Medenham cut short the Count's neatly turned phrases.

"Simmonds has no need to avail himself of your courtesy," he said. "As for the rest, give me your address in Paris, and when next I visit the French capital I shall be delighted to a.n.a.lyze these subtleties with you."

"Ah, most admirable! But the really vital question before us to-day is your address in London, Mr. Fitzroy."

Marigny dwelt on the surname as if it were a succulent oyster, and, in the undeniable surprise of the moment, Medenham was forced to believe that "Captain" Devar, formerly of Horton's Horse, had dared all by telling his confederate the truth, or some part of the truth. The two men looked squarely at each other, and Marigny did not fail to misinterpret the dubious frown on Medenham's face.

He descended a step or two, and crossed the pavement leisurely, dropping his voice so that it might not reach the ears of a porter, laden with the ladies' traveling boxes, who appeared in the doorway.

"Why should we quarrel?" he asked, with an engaging frankness well calculated to rea.s.sure a startled evildoer. "In this matter I am anxious to treat you as a gentleman. _Allons, donc!_ Hurry off instantly, and tell Simmonds to bring the Du Vallon here. Leave me to explain everything to Miss Vanrenen. Surely you agree that she ought to be spared the unpleasantness of a wrangle--or, shall we say, an exposure? You see," he continued with a trifle more animation, and speaking in French, "the game is not worth the candle. In a few hours, at the least, you will be in the hands of the police, whereas, by reaching London to-night, you may be able to pacify the Earl of Fairholme. I can help, perhaps. I will say all that is possible, and my testimony ought to carry some weight."

Medenham was thoroughly mystified. That the Frenchman was not yet aware of his ident.i.ty was now clear enough, though, with Devar's probable duplicity still running in his mind, he could not solve the puzzle presented by this vaunted half-knowledge.

Again the other attributed his perplexity to anything except its real cause.

"I am willing to befriend you," he urged emphatically. "You have acted foolishly, but not criminally, I hope. In your anxiety to help a colleague you forgot the fine distinction which the law draws between _meum_ and _tuum_----"

"No," said Medenham, turning to the porter. "Put the larger box on the carrier, and strap the other on top of it--the locks outwards. Then you will find that they fit exactly."

"Don't be a headstrong idiot," muttered the Count, with a certain heat of annoyance making itself felt in his patronizing tone. "Miss Vanrenen will come out at any minute----"

Medenham glanced at the clock by the side of the speed indicator.

"Miss Vanrenen is due now unless she is being purposely detained by Mrs. Devar," he commented dryly.

"But why persist in this piece of folly?" growled Marigny, to whose reluctant consciousness the idea of failure suddenly presented itself.

"You must realize by this time that I know who owns your car. A telegram from me will put the authorities on your track, your arrest will follow, and Miss Vanrenen will be subjected to the gravest inconvenience. _Sacre nom d'un pipe!_ If you will not yield to fair means I must resort to foul. It comes to this--you either quit Bristol at once or I inform Miss Vanrenen of the trick you have played on her."

Medenham turned and picked up from the seat the pair of stout driving-gloves which had caught Smith's inquiring eye by reason of their quality and substance. He drew on the right-hand glove, and b.u.t.toned it. When he answered, he spoke with irritating slowness.

"Would it not be better for all concerned that the lady in whose behalf you profess to be so deeply moved should be permitted to continue her tour without further disturbance? You and I can meet in London, monsieur, and I shall then have much pleasure in convincing you that I am a most peaceable and law-abiding person."

"No," came the angry retort. "I have decided. I withdraw my offer to overlook your offense. At whatever cost, Miss Vanrenen must be protected until her father learns how his wishes have been disregarded by a couple of English bandits."

"Sorry," said Medenham coolly.

He alighted in the roadway, as the driving seat was near the curb. A glance into the vestibule of the hotel revealed Cynthia, in motor coat and veil, giving some instructions, probably with regard to letters, to a deferential hall-porter. Walking rapidly round the front of the car, he caught Marigny's shoulder with his left hand.

"If you dare to open your mouth in Miss Vanrenen's presence, other than by way of some commonplace remark, I shall forthwith smash your face to a jelly," he said.

A queer s.h.i.+ver ran through the Frenchman's body, but Medenham did not commit the error of imagining that his adversary was afraid. His grip on Marigny's shoulder tightened. The two were now not twelve inches apart, and the Englishman read that involuntary tension of the muscles aright, for there is a palsy of rage as of fear.

"I have some acquaintance with the _savate_," he said suavely. "Please take my word for it, and you will be spared an injury. A moment ago you offered to treat me like a gentleman. I reciprocate now by being willing to accept your promise to hold your tongue. Miss Vanrenen is coming.... What say you?"

"I agree," said Marigny, though his dark eyes blazed redly.

"Ah, thanks!" and Medenham's left hand busied itself once more with the fastening of the glove.

"You understand, of course?" he heard, in a soft snarl.

"Perfectly. The truce ends with my departure. Meanwhile, you are acting wisely. I don't suppose I shall ever respect you so much again."

"Now, you two--what are you discussing?" cried Cynthia from the porch.

"I hope you are not trying to persuade my chauffeur to yield his place to you, Monsieur Marigny. Once bitten, twice shy, you know, and I would insist on checking each mile by the map if you were at the wheel."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Now, you two--what are you discussing?"

_Page 148_]

"Your chauffeur is immovable, mademoiselle," was the ready answer, though the accompanying smile was not one of the Count's best efforts.

"He looks it. Why are you vexed, Fitzroy? Can't you forgive your friend Simmonds?"

Cynthia lifted those demure blue eyes of hers, and held Medenham's gaze steadfast.

"I trust you are not challenging contradiction, Miss Vanrenen?" he said, with deliberate resolve not to let her slip back thus easily into the role of gracious employer.

She did not flinch, but her eyebrows arched a little.

"Oh, no," she said offhandedly. "Simmonds told me his misfortunes last night, and I a.s.sumed that you and he had settled matters satisfactorily between you."

"As for that," broke in the Count, "I have just offered my car as a subst.i.tute, but Fitzroy prefers to take you as far as Hereford, at any cost."

"Hereford! I understood from Simmonds that Mr. Fitzroy would see us through the remainder of the tour?"