Whither Thou Goest Part 36

Farquhar temporised. "One sometimes gives promises rather rashly, Lady Mary."

There was a long pause before the woman spoke.

"I think I can understand," she said. "You gave that promise not because you cared for my brother, but because you wanted to help Isobel Clandon."

Farquhar did not beat about the bush. "Yes, I wanted to help Isobel.

Naturally, I do not love your brother, but she loves him. And her happiness is my first consideration."

Mary looked at him with her soft, kindly eyes. "I think of all the lovers I have heard or read of, you are the truest," she said, "and also the kindliest. If our positions had been reversed, I rather doubt if I could have done that."

But Farquhar shook his head. "Oh, you are one of G.o.d's good women. In any situation you would act a thousand times better than I should."

Suddenly the somnolent Earl woke up, in full possession of his faculties.

"Well, Farquhar, what do you know about Guy?" He took the matter up from the point where it had been left in abeyance.

Farquhar explained patiently that, in his opinion, Guy Rossett was in a position of considerable danger.

Naturally, at this point, Lord Saxham went off at a violent tangent.

"Then why the devil doesn't Greatorex recall him, as I have begged him to do. Good heavens! I have been supporting this wretched Government through thick and thin. Can't they grant me this little favour? My poor boy! He doesn't want their infernal promotion. He will inherit a big fortune from his great-aunt. He can snap his fingers at Greatorex and the rest of them."

Suddenly he began to sob, and buried his head in his hands. "My poor murdered boy," he moaned. "And Greatorex sent him to his death."

Farquhar smoked on stolidly. He did not feel greatly attracted towards his host. Lady Mary shot a somewhat contemptuous glance at her penitent parent, who was seeking to throw the blame on Greatorex.

"Pay no attention to him," she whispered across the table. "The Foreign Office is not to blame. He got Guy transferred abroad in order to separate him from Isobel. I have told you."

Farquhar understood and nodded. He had already come to the conclusion that Lord Saxham was a very poor and weak creature--not a good specimen of his order. How had he become possessed of such a daughter, so gentle, so high-minded? There must have been some virility on the female side of the family.

He drove back to his chambers in a rather exhilarated frame of mind.

Lady Mary was very charming. He had quite got over that first feeling that he was to be exploited for the benefit of the Rossett family. Mary had put that all right, in her gentle, persuasive way. She had expressly laid emphasis on the fact that she, at any rate, was pleased to welcome him for himself.

He dismissed his taxi, and climbed up the steep stairs to his suite of rooms in one of the most cloistered courts of the Temple. To his surprise, the light in the hall was burning.

What had happened? He went into the dining-room, a blaze of electric light.

Stretched on the sofa, puffing at a long cigar, was Andres Moreno, awaiting his arrival.

"The devil!" cried Farquhar shortly, sharply, and decisively.

Moreno waved a genial hand.

"Not exactly, old man, but one of his amba.s.sadors. I say, I suppose you can give me a shake-down."

"Of course, but why are you here? Why are you not in Spain?"

"All will be unfolded in good time, my boy. But what about a drink? I could do with one."

"You know where the things are. Surely you could have helped yourself?"

said Farquhar.

"Never care to drink alone, old man. By the way, I see you are in evening togs. Have you been dining with the aristocracy?"

"You've just hit it," replied Farquhar, as he went to the sideboard and fetched out a decanter of whiskey. "I have been dining in Belgrave Square with the Earl of Saxham and his daughter. Lady Mary Rossett."

"Good heavens, this might be called a coincidence," cried Moreno, as he drained the refres.h.i.+ng draught offered to him.

Farquhar was rather impatient at any exhibition of humour. He frowned a little.

"Now, Moreno, out with it. What has brought you here? I am delighted to see you, of course, but you have not come all this long journey for nothing."

But Moreno was still in high spirits that were not to be abruptly quenched.

"What a splendid Lord Chancellor you will make, always with both eyes on the practical, intolerant of anything that disturbs the even course of justice. Perfect embodiment of the legal mind. _A votre sante, mon ami_!" He drained his gla.s.s.

Farquhar looked at him critically. "You're a bit of an a.s.s to-night, aren't you?"

"Not at all, most n.o.ble Festus. Never was I saner than I am at the present hour. Well, perhaps just at the moment I am suffering a little from swollen head. I, the poor Fleet Street journalist--you remember, Farquhar, how they used to despise me in the early days--have outwitted the keenest brains of the anarchists. I have made abortive their great _coup_."

"I know," said Farquhar generously. "My hearty congratulations, old man. But still, you have not come all this way to tell me that. You have something behind."

Moreno's manner changed at once. He sat down in an easy chair and became the solemn and grave personage who had important interests at stake.

"You remember an interview in these chambers a little time ago, when you gave me a certain promise?"

Farquhar remembered the incident well.

"Yes, I gave you a certain promise. You have come to remind me of it?"

"Are you overwhelmed with briefs?"

"I cannot exactly say I am overwhelmed with them, but I have enough to keep me going."

"I see," said Moreno quietly. He had cast aside his gay and chaffing mood; he was quite serious. "Can you depute those to somebody?"

"If it were imperative, I could."

Moreno rose and laid his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Good! Then I claim your promise. Pack your bag to-morrow morning and come with me to Spain. I am going to outwit them again. I might do it single-handed, but your a.s.sistance will be invaluable. Will you come?"

"It is to help Guy Rossett?"

"It is to help Isobel Clandon through Guy Rossett. I will explain everything as we travel together to-morrow."

"I adhere to my promise," said Farquhar. "I will make all my arrangements in the morning. I shall be at your disposal after twelve.

How long will you want me for?"