The Knave of Diamonds - Ethel May Dell (best novels for students txt) 📗

Something about Nap?"
"Yes. How did you know? It's an infernal shame to worry you when you're not fit for it. But the mother and I both think you ought to know."
"Go ahead, dear fellow! I'm tougher than you think. What has become of Nap?"
"That's just the question. You know he went off in the car with Lady Carfax yesterday morning?"
"I didn't know," murmured Lucas. "That's a detail. Go on."
"Late last night the car had not returned, and the mother began to wonder. Of course if Lady Carfax hadn't been there it wouldn't have mattered much, but as it was we got anxious, and in the end I posted off to the Manor to know if she had arrived. She had not. But while I was there a wire came for the butler from a place called Bramhurst, which is about fifty miles away, to say that the car had broken down and they couldn't return before to-day. Well, that looked to me deuced queer. I'm convinced that Nap is up to some devilry. What on earth induced her to go there with him anyway? The mother was real bothered about it, and so was I. We couldn't rest, either of us. And in the end she ordered the big Daimler and went off to Bramhurst herself. I wanted to go with her, but she wouldn't have me at any price. You know the mother. So I stopped to look after things here. Everyone cleared off this morning, thank the gods. I don't think anyone smelt a rat. I told them the mother had gone to nurse a sick friend, and it seemed to go down all right."
Lucas had listened to the recital with closed eyes and a perfectly expressionless face. He did not speak for a few moments when Bertie ended. At length, "And the mother is not back yet?" he asked.
"No. But I'm not afraid for her. She knows how to hold her own."
"That's so," Lucas conceded; and fell silent again.
He was frowning a little as if in contemplation of some difficulty, but his composure was absolute.
"There may be nothing in it," he said at last.
Bertie grunted. "I knew he was in a wild beast mood before they started. He nearly rode the black mare to death in the early morning."
"Why wasn't I told of that?" Lucas opened his eyes with the question and looked directly at his brother's worried countenance.
"My dear fellow, you were too sick to be bothered. Besides, you were taking morphia. He saw to that."
Lucas closed his eyes again without comment, A long pause ensued before he spoke again.
Then: "Bertie," he said, "go down to the garage and leave word that as soon as Nap returns I want to speak to him."
"He won't return," said Bertie, with conviction.
"I think he will. It is even possible that he has returned already. In any case, go and tell them. Ah, Tawny, what is it?"
The valet came to his master's side. His hideous features wore an expression that made them almost benign. The dumb devotion of an animal looked out of his eyes.
"A note, sir, from the Manor."
"Who brought it?" asked Lucas.
"A groom, sir."
"Waiting for an answer?"
"Yes, sir."
Lucas opened the note. It was from Anne.
He read a few lines, then glanced at Bertie. "It's all right, Bertie. Go and give that message, will you? Say it's important--an urgent matter of business."
Bertie departed, and Lucas's eyes returned to the sheet he held.
Tawny Hudson stood motionless beside him, and several silent seconds ticked away. His master spoke at length.
"Pen and paper, Tawny. Yes, that's right. Now put your arm behind the pillows and give me a hoist. Slowly now, slowly!"
And then, as the man supported him, very slowly and unsteadily he traced a few words.
"Don't worry. All's well.--Lucas."
Abruptly the pen fell from his fingers; his head dropped back. His face was drawn and ghastly as he uttered a few gasping whispers. "Tawny, give me something--quick! This pain is--killing me!"
The man lowered him again, and took a bottle from a side-table. As he measured some drops into a glass the only sound in the room was his master's agonised breathing.
Yet he knew without turning that someone had entered, and he betrayed no surprise when Nap's hand suddenly whisked the glass from his hold and held it to the panting lips.


CHAPTER XIV
THE IRRESISTIBLE

The first words Lucas uttered when utterance became possible to him were, "No morphia!"
Nap was deftly drawing away the pillows to ease his position. "All right, old fellow," he made answer. "But you know you can't sit up when you are like this. What possessed you to try?"
"Business," murmured Lucas. "Don't go again, Boney. I want you."
"So I've been told. I am quite at your service. Don't speak till you feel better."
"Ah! I am better now. There's magic about you, I believe. Or is it electricity?" Lucas's eyes rested on the grim face above him with a certain wistfulness.
Nap only smiled cynically. "Is Hudson to take this note? Can I address it for you?"
If he expected to cause any discomfiture by the suggestion he was disappointed. Lucas answered him with absolute composure.
"Yes; to Lady Carfax at the Manor. It is to go at once."
Nap thrust it into an envelope with a perfectly inscrutable countenance, scrawled the address, and handed it to the valet. "You needn't come back till you are rung for," he said.
And with that he calmly seated himself by his brother's side with the air of a man with ample leisure at his disposal.
As the door closed he spoke. "Hadn't you better have a smoke?"
"No. I must talk first. I wish you would sit where I can see you."
Nap pulled his chair round at once and sat in the full glare of the noonday sun. "Is that enough lime-light for you? Now, what ails the great chief? Does he think his brother will run away while he sleeps?"
There was a hint of tenderness underlying the banter in his voice. He stooped with the words and picked up a letter that lay on the floor. "This yours?"
Lucas's half-extended hand fell. "And you may read it," he said.
"Many thanks! I don't read women's letters unless they chance to be addressed to me--no, not even if they concern me very nearly." Nap's teeth gleamed for a moment. "I'm afraid you must play off your own bat, my worthy brother, though if you take my advice you'll postpone it. You're about used up, and I'm deuced thirsty. It's not a peaceful combination."
Again, despite the nonchalance of his speech, it was not without a certain gentleness. He laid the letter on the bed within reach of his brother's hand.
"I won't leave the premises till you have had your turn," he said. "I guess that's a fair offer anyway. Now curl up and rest."
But Lucas negatived the suggestion instantly though very quietly. "I'll take my turn now if you've no objection. That ranch in Arizona, Boney, is beginning to worry me some. I want you to take it in hand. It's a little job peculiarly suited to your abilities."
Nap jerked up his head with an odd gesture, not solely indicative of surprise. "What do you know of my abilities?"
"More than most." Very steadily Lucas made answer. "I depend on you in a fashion you little dream of, and I guess you won't fail me."
Nap's jaw slowly hardened. "I'm not very likely to disappoint you," he observed, "more especially as I have no intention of removing to Arizona at present."
"No?"
"No."
"Not if I make a point of it?" Lucas spoke heavily, as if the effort of speech were great. His hand had clenched upon Anne's letter.
Nap leaned forward without replying, the sunlight still shining upon his face, and looked at him attentively.
"Yes," Lucas said very wearily. "It has come to that. I can't have you here disturbing the public peace. I won't have my own brother arraigned as a murderer. Nor will I have Anne Carfax pilloried by you for all England to throw mud at. I've stood a good deal from you, Boney, but I'm damned if I'm going to stand this."
"The only question is, Can you prevent it?" said Nap, without the faintest change of countenance.
"I am going to prevent it."
"If you can."
"I am going to prevent it," Lucas repeated. "Before we go any further, give me that shooter of yours."
Nap hesitated for a single instant, then, with a gesture openly contemptuous, he took the revolver from his pocket and tossed it on to the bed.
Lucas laid his hand upon it. He was looking full into Nap's face. "Now, I want you to tell me something," he said. "I seem to remember your saying to me once in this very room that you and Lady Carfax were friends, no more, no less. You were mighty anxious that I shouldn't misunderstand. Remember that episode?"
"Perfectly," said Nap.
"I surmised that you told me that because you honestly cared for her as a friend. Was that so?"
Nap made a slight movement, such a movement as a man makes when he catches sight of a stone to his path too late to avoid it.
"You may say so if you wish," he said.
"Meaning that things have changed since then?" questioned Lucas, in his tired drawl.
Nap threw up his head with the action of a jibbing horse. "You can put it how you like. You can say--if you like--that I am a bigger blackguard now than I was then. It makes no difference how you put it."
"But I want to know," said Lucas quietly. "Are you a blackguard, Boney?"
His eyes were fixed steadily upon the dusky face with its prominent cheek-bones and mocking mouth. Perhaps he knew, what Anne had discovered long before, that those sensitive lips might easily reveal what the fierce eyes hid.
"A matter of opinion," threw back Nap. "If I am, Anne Carfax has made me so."
"Anne Carfax," said Lucas very deliberately, "has done her best to make a man of you. It is not her fault if she has failed. It is not her fault that you have chosen to drag her friendship through the mire."
"Friendship!" broke in Nap. "She gave me more than that."
Lucas's brows contracted as if at a sudden dart of pain, but his voice was perfectly level as he made reply: "Whatever she gave you was the gift of a good woman of which you have proved yourself utterly unworthy."
Nap sprang to his feet. "Be it so!" he exclaimed harshly. "I am unworthy. What of it? She always knew I was."
"Yet she trusted you."
"She trusted me, yes. Having cast out the devil she found in possession, she thought there was nothing more to me. She thought that I should be content to wander empty all my days through dry places, seeking rest. She forgot the sequel, forgot what was bound to happen when I found none. You seem to have forgotten that too. Or do you think that I am indeed that interesting vacuum that you are pleased to call a gentleman?" He flung his arms wide with a sudden, passionate laugh. "Why, my good fellow, I'd sooner rank myself with the beasts that perish. And I'd sooner perish too; yes, die with a rope round my throat in the good old English fashion. There's nothing in that. I'd as soon die that way as any other. It may not be so artistic as our method, but it's quite a clean process, and the ultimate result is the same."
"Do you mind sitting down?" said Lucas.
Nap