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"But his lordship hasn't gone to London, my lord," stuttered Dale, finding his voice at last, and far too flustered to collect his wits, though he realized in a dazed way that it was his duty to act exactly as Viscount Medenham would wish him to act in such trying circumstances.
"The first race is at 1.30, my lord," muttered Dale, greatly daring. Medenham laughed. "You, too?" he cried. "Someone has given you a tip, I suppose?" Dale flushed under this direct analysis of his feelings. He grinned sheepishly. "I am told that Eyot can't lose the first race, my lord," he said. "Ah! And how much do you mean to speculate?" "A sovereign, my lord." "Hand it over.
I now tell you quite frankly, that if you do not abandon your pretensions to Miss Cynthia Vanrenen, I shall make it my special business in life to ruin her socially." Medenham listened more in amazement than indignation. At first, the true significance of the threat left him unmoved. In his ears it was a mere repetition of the bogey raised by Vanrenen, and that was the wildest nonsense.
This imagined salving of his wounded vanity served only to inflame him the more against Medenham. He was still afire with resentment, since no Frenchman can understand the rude Saxon usage that enforces submission under a threat of physical violence.
"Well, you had better cross by an early boat to-morrow and bring it here. You understand all the preliminaries, I suppose? Find out from the Customs people what deposit is necessary, and come to me for the money." So it happened that when Medenham was able to take his first drive in the open air, the Mercury awaited him and Cynthia at the door of the hotel.
Cynthia had smiled a "Good-morning" when she entered the car, but beyond one quick glance around to see if the deputy chauffeur was in attendance which Medenham took care he should not be she gave no visible sign of yesterday's troubles, though her self-contained manner showed that they were present in her thoughts. Mrs.
"If you dare to open your mouth in Miss Vanrenen's presence, other than by way of some commonplace remark, I shall forthwith smash your face to a jelly," he said. A queer shiver ran through the Frenchman's body, but Medenham did not commit the error of imagining that his adversary was afraid. His grip on Marigny's shoulder tightened.
"I left London at eight o'clock this morning, and it is most irritating to have missed him by a few minutes. I only wish to be assured as to his whereabouts, and, of course, I have no reason to believe that any sort of responsibility for my son's movements rests with you." "That's all right, my lord," said Simmonds. "Viscount Medenham was very kind to me last Wednesday.
Medenham saw that his retainer would be more muddled than ever if he realized that Mrs. Devar had intercepted the telephone message, so he slurred over that element of the affair, and Dale quickly enlightened him as to the course taken by events after the departure of the Mercury's tourists from Bristol. The Earl, too, had referred to Lady St.
"Business!" she cackled, "I am glad to hear of it. James is too much of a gad-about to earn money, but people are always asking him to their houses. He is a dear fellow. I am sure you will like him, Cynthia." Medenham had heard enough.
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