The Ffolliots of Redmarley Part 19

"Well, get tea now, as quick as you can. I can't think where Mr Gallup can have got to."

Miss Gallup lit a candle and went straight upstairs to her nephew's room. His clothes were still in the drawers as she, herself, had arranged them--but the suit-case, the smart new leather suit-case, with E. A. G. in large black letters upon its lid, was gone.

Miss Gallup sank heavily on a chair. What could it mean?

She immediately connected the advent of the strange young lady and the disappearance of her nephew's suit-case.

She took off her bonnet and cloak and did not put them away, but left them lying on her bed; a sure sign of perturbation with Miss Gallup, who was the tidiest of mortals.

She sought Em'ly-Alice in the bright little kitchen. "What was the young lady like?" she asked.

"Oh a superior young person, Miss, all in black."

"Young, was she?" Miss Gallup remarked suspiciously.

"Yes, Miss, quite young, I should say--about my own age; I couldn't see 'er face very well, but she did talk like the gentry, very soft and distinct."

"Did Mr Gallup seem pleased to see her?"

"That I couldn't say, Miss, I'm sure. I left 'em together and come out and shut the door."

Miss Gallup went back to the parlour shaking her head.

"There's a lot of them will be after him now 'e's stood for Parliament," she reflected grimly; "but I did _not_ think they'd have the face to track him to his aunt's house. She's hanging about the lanes for him now I'll warrant. Miss b.u.t.termish indeed!"

CHAPTER XIV

THE ELECTION

Eloquent had taken a small furnished house in Marlehouse, and was installed there with a housekeeper and manservant for the fortnight preceding the election. The Moonstone, chief, and in fact only, hotel in the town, was "blue," and although the proprietor would have been glad enough to secure Eloquent's custom, it was felt better "for all parties" that he should make his headquarters elsewhere. He worked hard and unceasingly, his agent was equally tireless, and it was only at the last that Mr Brooke's supporters awoke to the fact that if he was to represent Marlehouse again no stone should be left unturned.

But it was too late: Mr Brooke, elderly, amiable, and lethargic, was quite incapable of either directing or controlling his more ardent supporters, and their efforts on his behalf were singularly devoid of tact. The Tory and Unionist ladies were grievous offenders in this respect. They started a house-to-house canva.s.s in the town, and those possessed of carriages or motors parcelled out the surrounding villages and "did" them, their methods being the reverse of conciliatory.

Indeed, had Mr Brooke in the smallest degree realised how these zealous supporters were injuring his cause, his smiling optimism would have been sadly shaken.

The day after the accident Eloquent called at Marlehouse Infirmary to ask for Buz, and was informed that the arm had been set successfully, that it was a bad break, but that the Rontgen rays had been used, and it was going on satisfactorily.

He wondered if he ought to send flowers or fruit to the invalid, but a vivid recollection of the look in Buz's eyes as he watched him pack his suit-case decided him that any such manifestation of sympathy would be unsuitable. He then, although he was so rushed that he could hardly overtake his engagements, hired a motor to drive out to the Manor House, and so hurried the chauffeur that they fell straightway into a police trap and were "warned."

He asked for Mrs Ffolliot, and Fusby blandly informed him that she was in Marlehouse with Master Buz.

"Is Miss Ffolliot at home?" Eloquent asked boldly.

"Miss Ffolliot is out huntin' with the young gentlemen," Fusby remarked stiffly.

So Eloquent was fain to get into his motor again, and quite forgot to look in on his aunt on the way back.

The night before the election there was a Liberal meeting in the Town Hall, and a certain section of the Tory party, a youthful and irresponsible section it must be confessed, had arranged to attend the meeting, and if possible bring it to nought. The ringleader in this scheme was a young man named Rabb.i.+.c.h, whose people some years before had bought a large property in a village about four miles from Redmarley.

Mr Rabb.i.+.c.h, senr., was an extremely wealthy man with many irons in the fire, a man so busy that he found little time to look after either his property or his family, and though he, himself, was generally declared to be a "very decent sort" with no nonsense or "side" about him, and of a praiseworthy liberality in the matter of subscriptions, his wife and children did not find equal favour either in the eyes of the villagers or those of his neighbours.

Mrs Rabb.i.+.c.h was a foolish woman whose fetich was society with a big "S," and she idolised her only son, a rather vacuous youth who had just managed to sc.r.a.pe into Sandhurst.

On the night before the election then, young Rabb.i.+.c.h gave a dinner at the Moonstone to some twenty youths of his own age, and Grantly Ffolliot was of the party. Grantly did not like young Rabb.i.+.c.h, and as a rule steered clear of him in the hunting-field and elsewhere, though civil enough if actually brought into contact with him. But though Grantly did not like young Rabb.i.+.c.h, he dearly loved any form of "rag,"

and as party feeling ran very high just then, the chance of disturbing the last Liberal meeting before the election was far too entrancing to be missed. He obtained his father's permission to go to the dinner (Mr Ffolliot was never difficult when his sons asked for permission to go from home), told his mother he would be late, obtained the key of the side door from Fusby, and quite unintentionally left his family under the impression that he was dining at the Rabb.i.+.c.h's.

Mine host of the Moonstone provided an excellent dinner, and young Rabb.i.+.c.h kept calling for more champagne, so that it was a very hilarious and somewhat unsteady party that presently, in a solid phalanx, got wedged in at the very back of the Town Hall, which was filled to overflowing. Twenty noisy young men in evening clothes, and all together, made a fairly conspicuous feature in the meeting, and the crowd, which was almost wholly Liberal in its sympathies, guessed they were out for trouble.

During the first couple of speeches, which were short and introductory, they were fairly quiet, only indulging in occasional derisive comments.

When Eloquent arose to address the meeting he was greeted by such a storm of cheering from his supporters, as quite drowned the hisses and cat-calls of the "knuts" at the back of the hall.

But when he started to speak, their interruptions were incessant, irrelevant, and in the case of young Rabb.i.+.c.h, offensive.

Eloquent, who was long-sighted, clearly perceived Grantly Ffolliot, flushed, with rumpled hair and gesticulating arms, in the group at the back of the hall. Young Rabb.i.+.c.h, whose father had made the greater part of his money in b.u.t.ter and bacon, kept urging Eloquent to "go back to the shop," inquired the present price of socks and pyjamas, and whether the clothes he wore just then were made in Germany?

Eloquent saw Grantly Ffolliot frown and say something to his companion as young Rabb.i.+.c.h continued his questions, and then quite suddenly the whole of that end of the hall was in a turmoil, and one by one the interrupters were hauled from their seats and forcibly ejected from the meeting, in spite of desperate resistance on their part. After that, peace was restored, and Eloquent continued his speech amidst the greatest enthusiasm.

His supporters cheered him to his house, and then departed to parade the town, while their band played "Hearts of Oak," the chosen war-song of the "Yallows." Meanwhile the Rabb.i.+.c.h party had returned to the Moonstone to compare their bruises and to get more drinks, and then they sallied forth again to join a "Blue" procession, headed by a band that played "Bonnie Dundee," which is the battle-cry of the Blues.

The rival bands met, the rival processions met and locked, and there was a regular s.h.i.+ndy. Eloquent, very tired and rather depressed, as a man usually is on the eve of any great struggle, heard the distant tumult and the shouting, and thought he had better go out and see what was afoot.

He had hardly got outside his own front door, which was in a little-frequented street not far from the police-station, when he saw two policemen on either side of a hatless, dishevelled, and unsteady youth, who held one of them affectionately by the arm while the other held him.

Another glance and he perceived that the hatless one was Grantly Ffolliot.

"Hullo!" cried Eloquent, "what's to do here?"

"Gentleman very disorderly, sir, throwing stones at windows of your committee-room, fighting and brawling, and resisted violently--so we're taking him to the station."

"He seems quiet enough now," Eloquent suggested.

Grantly smiled at him sleepily. "Good chaps, policemen," he murmured; "fine beefy chaps."

"Look here," said Eloquent, "I'd much prefer you didn't charge him.

His people are well known; it will only create ill-feeling. I'll look after him if you leave him with me."

The policemen looked at one another. . . . "Of course," said the one to whom Grantly clung so lovingly, "we couldn't swear as it was him who threw the stones, though he was among them as did."

"He's only a boy," Eloquent continued, "and he's drunk . . . it would be a pity to make a public example of him . . . just now--don't you think?--If you could oblige me in this . . . I'm very anxious that the election should be fought with as little ill-feeling as possible."

Something changed hands.

"What about the other young gentlemen, sir?" asked the younger policeman.

"With the other young gentlemen," Eloquent said ruthlessly, "you can deal exactly as you please, but if it can be managed don't charge any of them."

With difficulty policeman number one detached himself from Grantly's embrace and handed him over to Eloquent.