Roger Ingleton, Minor Part 25

And with a grunt he got out of bed, and began to array himself preparatory to a stroll round the park before breakfast.

It was a delicious September morning. The birds, hardly convinced that the summer was over, were singing merrily in the trees. The hum of the not distant ocean droned solemnly in the air. The sunlight played fitfully with the gold of the harvest fields, and the lowing cattle in the meadows added their music to nature's peaceful morning anthem.

Mr Ratman was only half alive to the beauties of nature. He was considerably more impressed with the substantial masonry of the manor house, with the size of the timber, the appointments of the stables, and the acreage of the park. They all spelt money to him--suggesting a good deal more behind.

"Teddy's certainly a man to be looked after," said he to himself. "He's wasting his time scandalously. Yet he's clever in his way, is Edward.

He has tucked his family into the big bed snugly, and made the most of his chance that way. Why--"

He had reached this pleasant stage in his reflections when something darted round from a side-walk and collided with him suddenly.

It was Miss Jill, taking an early scamper with her dog, and little dreaming that she was not, as usual, the sole occupant of the grounds.

"Hullo! my little lady," said Mr Ratman, recognising his enemy of yesterday; "you nearly did for me that time. Come, you'll have to tell me you are sorry, and beg my pardon very prettily."

"No, I won't!" exclaimed Jill, and proceeded to run.

Mr Ratman was not beyond a bit of fun himself; besides, he did not quite like to be thus set down by a child of twelve. Therefore, although his running days had pa.s.sed their prime, he gave chase, and a very exciting race ensued.

Jill, as fleet as the wind, darted forward with little to fear from her pursuer; while the dog, naturally regarding the whole affair as an entertainment got up for his benefit, barked jubilantly, and did his best to force the pace. After a minute or two Mr Ratman began to wonder if the game was worth the candle, and was turning over in his mind the awkward possibility of owning himself beaten, when he perceived that the little fugitive was, by some error of judgment on her part, leading the way into what looked uncommonly like a _cul de sac_.

Therefore, although painfully aware of the st.i.tch in his side, he bravely held on, and had the gratification in a minute more of running his little victim to earth after all.

"Aha!" said he, laughing and panting; "you can't get away from me, you see. Now, my little beauty, I'm going to take you back in custody to the place where you started from, and make you beg my pardon very prettily for nearly knocking me over."

In vain Jill protested and struggled; he held her by the wrist as with a vice, and, rather enjoying her wild efforts to escape, literally proceeded to carry his threat into execution.

He had nearly brought her back to the starting-place, and she, having fought and struggled all the way, was beginning with humiliation to feel her eyes growing dim with tears, when a gentleman dressed in boating flannels, with one arm in a sling and an eye-gla.s.s in his eye, stepped abruptly across the path.

A moment later Mr Robert Ratman lay on the gra.s.s half a dozen yards away, on the flat of his back, blinking up at the sky.

Several curious reflections pa.s.sed through his mind as he occupied this not very exhilarating position. Jill had escaped after all. That was annoying. He should have a black eye for a week. That was very annoying. This left-handed individual with the eye-gla.s.s must be the tutor. That was most excessively annoying.

And the injured gentleman, neither looking nor feeling at all well, pulled himself together and sprang to his feet.

Jill was there, clinging to her champion. "Run away, Jill!" said Armstrong.

"But you have only one arm," said she. "Go, Jill!" said he, so decisively that the little maid, darting only one look behind her, fled towards the house.

All she saw was the two men facing one another--one flurried, vicious, and noisy; the other curious, silent, disgusted.

"You dog!" hissed Ratman, with an oath, "what do you mean by that?"

"My meaning should have been clear--it was intended to be."

Ratman tried hard to copy his adversary's composure, but failed miserably.

With many imprecations, and, heedless of the tutor's maimed condition, he threw himself upon him.

But Robert Ratman's boxing, like his running, was a trifle out of date, and once more he found himself on his back regarding the clouds as they flitted by overhead.

This time the tutor a.s.sumed the initiative.

"Get up," said he, advancing to his prostrate antagonist.

Ratman was surprised at himself when, after a moment's doubt, he obeyed.

"What's your name?" demanded Mr Armstrong, surveying him from head to foot.

Again, by some curious mental process, Mr Ratman obeyed.

"What are you doing down here?"

"I am Captain Oliphant's guest," growled Ratman.

The tutor looked him up and down in a manner which was clearly not calculated to imply admiration of Captain Oliphant's choice of friends.

"Allow me to tell you, sir, that in this part of the world we call men like you blackguards."

And the tutor, whose eye-gla.s.s had become uncomfortably deranged during this brief interview, screwed it in with a wrench, and turned on his heel.

"Where's jolly old Ratman?" inquired Tom, when the family presently a.s.sembled for breakfast.

"Tired with his journey, no doubt," said Mrs Ingleton.

As no one disputed this theory, and Jill's exchange of glances with her champion pa.s.sed unheeded, there seemed every prospect of the meal pa.s.sing off peaceably. But Tom, as usual, contrived to improve the occasion in the wrong direction.

"You'll like him, Armstrong, when you see him. He's no end of a chap-- all larks. He'll make you roar with his rummy stories."

"I have met him already," said the tutor shortly.

"Then he is up. Jill, my child," said the captain, "go and knock at Mr Ratman's door, and tell him breakfast is ready."

"I won't go near him," said Jill, flus.h.i.+ng up. "He's a horrid, hateful man. Isn't he, Mr Armstrong?"

Mr Armstrong, thus appealed to, looked a little uncomfortable, and nodded.

"Yes," blurted the girl; "and if it hadn't been for Mr Armstrong, father, he might have hurt me very much."

"Explain yourself," said the fond father, becoming interested.

"I don't want to talk about him," said Jill.

"What does all this mean, Armstrong?"

"As far as I am concerned, it means that I took the liberty of knocking Mr Ratman down for insulting your daughter. I am sorry you were not present to do it yourself."

Captain Oliphant turned white, and red, and black in succession.

"You knocked a visitor of mine--"