The Unspeakable Gentleman Part 21

"A frigate! Think of that!" said my father. "At last we seem to be making our mark on the world."

"We've never done the beat of this," said Mr. Aiken.

"And everything is quiet outside?"

"All right so far," said Mr. Aiken.

"How many men are watching the house?"

"There's four, sir," he answered.

"Ah," said my father, "and Mr. Lawton still stops at the tavern?"

"Hasn't showed his head all morning," answered Mr. Aiken.

"Ah," said my father, "perhaps he is right in concealing such a useless member." And he helped himself from the decanter, seemed to hesitate for a moment, and continued:

"And Mr. Jason Hill--he has been to call, Ned. Have you seen him since?"

"He's been walking out in the road, sir, all morning," replied Mr. Aiken.

"And a schooner of his is anch.o.r.ed upstream. And if you'll pardon the liberty, I don't give that for Jason Hill," and he spat into the fire.

"It may please you to know," said my father, "that I quite agree with you. I am afraid," he went on, looking at the back of his hand, "that Jason does not take me seriously. I fear he will find he is wrong. Brutus!"

Brutus, apparently antic.i.p.ating something pleasant, moved towards my father's chair.

"My pistols, Brutus. And it is growing dark. You had best draw the shutters and bring in the candles. We're sailing very close to the wind this evening. Listen to me carefully, Brutus. You will have the cutter by the bar at eight o'clock, and in five minutes you will bring out my horse."

"What's the horse for?" asked Mr. Aiken.

My father settled himself back more comfortably in his chair before he answered. A few drops of wine had spilled on the mahogany. He touched them, and held up his fingers and looked thoughtfully at the stain.

"Because I propose to ride through them," he said. "I propose showing our friends--how shall I put it so you'll understand?--that I don't care a d.a.m.n for the whole pack."

"Gad!" murmured Mr. Aiken. "I might have known it. And here I was thinking you'd be quiet and sensible. Are you still going on with that d.a.m.ned paper?"

The red of the wine seemed to please my father. He dipped his fingers in it again and drew them slowly across the back of his left hand.

"Precisely," he said. "I propose to deliver it tonight before I sail. I leave it at Hixon's farm."

"He's dead," said Mr. Aiken.

"Exactly," said my father. "Only his shade will help me. Perhaps it will be enough--who knows?"

"There'll be half a dozen after you before you get through the gate,"

said Mr. Aiken dubiously. "You can lay to it Lawton will be there before you make a turn."

"That," said my father, "is why I say we're sailing very close to the wind."

"Good G.o.d, sir, burn it up," said Mr. Aiken plaintively. "What's it been doing but causing trouble ever since we've got it? Running gear carried away--man wounded from splinters. h.e.l.l to pay everywhere. Gad, sir, they're afraid to sleep tonight for fear you'll blow 'em out of bed.

What's the use of it all? d.a.m.n it, that's what I say, what's the use? And now here you go, risking getting a piece of lead thrown in you, all because of a few names scrawled on a piece of paper. Here it's the first time you've been back. It's a h.e.l.l of a home-coming--that's what I say. I told you you hadn't ought to have come. Now there's the fire. Why not forget it and burn it up, and then it's over just as neat as neat, and then we're aboard, and after the pearls again. Why, what must the boy be thinking of all this? He must be thinking he's got a h.e.l.l-cat for a father. That's what he must be thinking."

"That will do," said my father coldly, and he rose slowly from his chair, and stood squarely in front of me.

"Tie that boy up, Brutus," he commanded. "It is a compliment, my son. My opinion of you is steadily rising. Tie him up, Brutus. You will find a rope on the chimney piece."

He stood close to me, evidently pleased at the convulsive anger which had gripped me. Brutus was still fumbling on the mantlepiece. Ned Aiken's pipe had dropped from his mouth. It was Mademoiselle who was the first to intervene.

"Are you out of your senses?" she demanded, seizing him by the arm. "It is too much, captain, I tell you it is too much. Think what you are doing, and send the black man off."

"I have been thinking the matter over for some time," replied my father tranquilly, "and I have determined to do the thing thoroughly. If he cannot like me, it is better for him to hate me, and may save trouble.

Tie him up, Brutus."

"Bear away!" cried Mr. Aiken harshly. "Mind yourself, sir."

His warning, however, was late in coming. I had sprung at my father before the sentence was finished. It was almost the only time I knew him to miscalculate. He must have been taken unaware, for he stepped backward too quickly, and collided with the very chair he had quitted. It shook his balance for the moment, so that he thrust a hand behind him to recover himself, and in the same instant I had the volume of Rabelais. I leapt for the open doorway, but Ned Aiken was there to intercept me.

Brutus was up behind me with his great hands clamping down on my shoulders. I turned and hurled the volume in the fireplace.

My father caught it out almost before it landed. With all the deliberation of a connoisseur examining an old and rare edition, he turned the pages with his slim fingers. There, as he had said, was the paper, with the same red seals that I had admired the previous evening. He placed it slowly in his inside pocket, and tossed the book on the floor.

"Now here's a pretty kettle of fish," said Mr. Aiken.

My father was watching me thoughtfully.

"Take your hands off him, Brutus," he said, "and bring out the horse."

For a second longer we stood motionless, each watching the other. Then my father crossed to the long table near which I was standing, picked up the pistols that Brutus had left there, and slipped them into his capacious side pockets.

"You disappoint me, Henry," he remarked. "You should have used those pistols."

"I had thought of them," I answered.

"I am glad of that," he said. "It is a relief to know you did not overlook them. You were right, Mademoiselle. I should have known better than to treat him so. We have ceased to play the game, my son. It only remains to take my leave. I shall not trouble you again."

He was standing close beside me. Was it possible his eyes were a little wistful, and his voice a trifle sad?

"I thought I should be glad to leave you," he said, "and somehow I am sorry. Odd that we can never properly gauge our emotions. I feel that you will be a very blithe and active gentleman in time, and there are not so many left in these drab days. Ah, well--"

His sword was lying on the table. He drew it, and tucked the naked blade under his arm. In spite of the two candles which Brutus had left, the shadows had closed about us, so that his figure alone remained distinct in the yellow light, slender and carelessly elegant. I think it pleased him to have us all three watching. Any gathering, however small, that he might dominate, appeared to give him enjoyment--his leave taking not less than the others.

"It is growing dark, Mr. Aiken," he observed, "and our position is not without its drawbacks. Call in the men from outside, and take them aboard and give them a measure of rum. No one will disturb me before I leave, I think. You had better weigh at once, and never mind your running lights till it is time for them."

"So you're going to do it," said Mr. Aiken. "I might have known you wouldn't listen to reason."

"You should have sailed with me long enough," said my father, "to know I never do."

"And you not even dressed for it," added Mr. Aiken. "You might be going to a party, so you might."

"I think," replied my father, "the evening will be more interesting than a purely social affair. Keep the _Sea Tern_ well off, and we shall meet only too soon again.'