The Wicked Marquis Read online

  CHAPTER III

  Sir Robert preferred to join his wife and sister-in-law in thedrawing-room after luncheon. The Marquis, with a courteous word ofinvitation, led his remaining guest across the grey stone hall into thelibrary beyond--a sparsely furnished and yet imposing lookingapartment, with its great tiers of books and austere book cases. Onhis way, he drew attention carelessly to one or two paintings by oldmasters, and pointed out a remarkable statue presented by a famousItalian sculptor to his great-grandfather and now counted amongst theworld's treasures. His guest watched and observed in silence. Therewas nothing of the uncouth sight-seer about him, still less of thefulsome dilettante. They settled themselves in comfortable chairs in apleasant corner of the apartment.

  A footman served them with coffee, a second man handed cigars, and thebutler himself carried a tray of liqueurs. The Marquis assumed anattitude of complete satisfaction with the world in general.

  "I am pleased to have this opportunity of a few words with you, Mr.Thain," he said. "You are quite comfortable in that chair, I trust?"

  "Perfectly, thank you."

  "And my Larangas are not too mild? You will find darker-colouredcigars in the cabinet by your side."

  "Thank you," David Thain replied, "I smoke only mild tobacco."

  "Personally," the Marquis sighed, "I can go no further than cigarettes.A vice, perhaps," he added, watching the blue smoke curl upwards, "buta fascinating one. So you came across this man Vont on the steamer.Might I ask under what circumstances?"

  "Richard Vont, as I think he called himself," was the quiet reply,"shared a cabin in the second class with my servant. I was over thereonce or twice and talked with him."

  "That is very interesting," the Marquis observed. "He travelled secondclass, eh? And yet the man has many thousands to throw away in theseabsurd lawsuits with me."

  "He may have money," Thain pointed out, "and yet feel more at home inthe second class. I understood that he had been a gamekeeper inEngland and was returning to his old home."

  "Did he speak of his purpose in doing so?"

  "On the contrary, he was singularly taciturn. All that I could gatherfrom him was that he was returning to fulfill some purpose which he hadkept before him for a great many years."

  The Marquis sighed. On his high, shapely forehead could be traced thelines of a regretful frown.

  "I was sure of it," he groaned. "The fellow is returning to makehimself a nuisance to me. He did not tell you his story, then, Mr.Thain?"

  "He showed no inclination to do so--in fact he avoided so far aspossible all discussion of his past."

  "Richard Vont," the Marquis continued, raising his eyes to the ceiling,"was one of those sturdy, thick-headed, unintelligent yeomen who havebeen spoiled by the trifle of education doled out to theirgrandfathers, their fathers and themselves. A few hundred years agothey formed excellent retainers to the nobles under whose patronagethey lived. To-day, in these hideously degenerate days, Mr. Thain,when half the world has moved forward and half stood still, they are ananachronism. They find no seemly place in modern life."

  David Thain sat very still. There was just a little flash in his eyes,which came and went as sunlight might have gleamed across naked steel.

  "But I must not forget," his host went on tolerantly, "that I amspeaking now to one who must to some extent have lost his sense ofsocial proportion by a prolonged sojourn in a country where life ismore or less a jumble."

  "You refer to America?"

  "Naturally! As a country resembling more than anything a giganticsausage machine wherein all races and men of all social status arebroken up on the wheel, puffed up with false ideas, and thrown out uponthe world, a newly fledged, cunning, but singularly ignorant race ofindividuals, America possesses great interest to those--to those, inshort," the Marquis declared, with a little wave of the hand, "whomsuch things interest. I am English, my forefathers were Saxon, myinstincts are perhaps feudal. That is why I regard the case of RichardVont from a point of view which you might possibly fail to appreciate.Would it bore you if I continue?"

  "Not in the least," David Thain assured him.

  "Richard Vont was head-keeper at Mandeleys when I succeeded to thetitle and estates, an advent which occurred a few years after my wife'sdeath. He was already occupying a peculiar position there, owing tothe generosity of my predecessor, whose life he had had the goodfortune to save. He had very foolishly married above him instation--the girl was a school mistress, I believe. When I came toMandeleys, I found him living there, a widower with one daughter, and alittle boy, his nephew. The girl inherited her mother's superiority ofstation and intellect, and was naturally unhappy. I noticed her withinterest, and she responded. Consequences which in the days of ourancestors, Mr. Thain, would have been esteemed an honour to the personsconcerned, ensued. Richard Vont, like an ignorant clodhopper, viewedthe matter from the wrong standpoint.... You said something, Ibelieve? Pardon me. I sometimes fancy that I am a little deaf in myleft ear."

  "Richard Vont was head-keeper at Mandeleys when Isucceeded to the title and estates."]

  The Marquis leaned forward but David Thain shook his head. His lipshad moved indeed, but no word had issued from them.

  "So far," his host went on, "the story contains no novel features. Iexercised what my ancestors, in whose spirit I may say that I live,would have claimed as an undoubted right. Richard Vont, as I havesaid, with his inheritance of ill-bestowed education, and a measure ofthat extraordinary socialistic poison which seems, during the last fewgenerations, to have settled like an epidemic in the systems of theagricultural classes, resented my action. His behaviour became sointolerable that I was forced to dismiss him from my service, andfinally, to avoid a continuance of melodramatic scenes, which wereextremely unpleasant to every one concerned, I was obliged to leaveEngland for a time and travel upon the Continent."

  "And, in the meantime, what happened at Mandeleys?" David Thain asked.

  "Richard Vont and his nephew appear to have left for the United Statesvery soon after my own departure from England. The cottage he left inthe care of an elderly relative, who gave little trouble but muchannoyance. She attended a Primitive Methodist Chapel in the village,and she passed both myself and the ladies of my household at all timeswithout obeisance."

  "Dear me!" David Thain murmured under his breath.

  "After her death, I instructed my lawyers to examine the legal title tothe Vont property and to see whether there was any chance of regainingit. Its value would be, at the outside, say six or seven hundredpounds. I advertised and offered two thousand, five hundred pounds toregain, it. My solicitors came into touch with the man Vont through anagent in America. His reply to their propositions on my behalf doesnot bear repetition. I then instructed my lawyers to take such stepsas they could to have the deed of gift set aside, sufficientcompensation of course being promised. That must have been some eightyears ago. My efforts have come to an end to-day. The cottage remainsthe property of Richard Vont. My own law costs have been considerable,but by some means or other this man Vont has contrived to defend hisproperty at the expenditure of some five or six thousand pounds. Onecan only conclude that he must have prospered in this strange countryof yours, Mr. Thain."

  "To a stranger," the latter observed, "it seems curious that this manshould have set so high a value upon a property which must be full ofpainful associations to him."

  "The very arguments I made use of in our earlier correspondence," hishost assented. "I have told you the story, Mr. Thain, because itoccurred to me that this man might have communicated to you his reasonfor returning after all these years to the neighbourhood."

  "He told me nothing."

  "Then I have wasted your time with a long and, I fear, a very dullstory," the Marquis apologised gracefully. "Shall we join the others?"

  "There was just one question, if I might be permitted," David Thainsaid, "which I should like to ask concerning the story which you havetold me
. The girl to whom you have alluded--Vont's daughter--whatbecame of her?"

  The Marquis for a moment stood perfectly still. He had just risen tohis feet and was standing where a gleam of sunlight fell upon his coldand passionless features. His silence had, in its way, a curiouseffect. He seemed neither to be thinking nor hesitating. He was justin a state of suspense. Presently he leaned forward and knocked theash from his cigarette into the grate.

  "The lady in question," he replied, "has found that place in the worldto which her gifts and charm entitle her. I fear that my sister willbe getting impatient. My daughter, too, I am sure, would like toimprove her acquaintance with you, Mr. Thain."

  David Thain was, in his way, an obstinate and self-willed man, but hefound himself, for those first few moments, subject to his host's calmbut effectual closure of the conversation. Nevertheless, he recoveredhimself in time to ask that other question as they left the room.

  "The lady is alive, then?"

  "She is alive," the Marquis acquiesced, in a colourless tone.

  A servant threw open the door of the drawing-room. The Marquismotioned to his guest to precede him.

  "As I imagined," he murmured, "I see that my sister is impatient. Youwill forgive me, Caroline," he went on, turning to the Duchess. "Mr.Thain's conversation was most interesting. Letitia, my dear, do pressMr. Thain to dine with us one evening. This afternoon I fear that Ihave been unduly loquacious. I should welcome another opportunity ofconversing with him concerning his wonderful country."

  Letitia picked up a little morocco-bound volume from the table andconsulted it. Sir Robert drew the prospective guest a little on oneside.

  "For heaven's sake," he whispered, "don't give the Marquis anyfinancial tips. He has a fancy that he is destined to restore thefortunes of the Mandeleys on the Stock Exchange. He is a delightfullyornamental person, but I can assure you that as a father-in-law he is adistinct luxury."

  David Thain smiled grimly.

  "I shall be careful," he promised.