that so?”
“I have heard that things did not go well will your honour,” replied
the man. “In fact the state of your honour’s coach told me that the
cards must have fallen damned bad.”
“And so they did,” admitted the Squire, filling his glass with port.
“But a gentleman of spirit should never get down -hearted at the
continual falling of bad cards, for it always comes to your own deal at
last.”
“With a good ace tucked up one’s sleeve,” chuckled the man.
“And why not?” laughed the Squire. “Maybe I lost this morning, but
it is my deal now, and those I play against will be astonished at the
number of aces I shall have up my sleeve, and if by your help I
win the game I mean to play, you shall have twenty guineas in
your pocket. Now
- 29 -
listen carefully, and I will tell you how I wish the cards to fall.”
Whereupon the Squire unfolded his scheme.
Mister Cragg had no difficulty in watching White Frairs, nor in
recognizing his master’s victims. There was Doctor Syn, whom he had met
already, with his arm round the beautiful Spanish girl. There was the
elder Spanish lady, her mother, and the
other two at the open window he knew must be the lawyer and the lady he
was wooing in the Woodstock road. The crowded booths and stalls
opposite the house lent him an easy concealment. As compensation for
his weary wait, he watched the happiness upon the lovers’ faces, and
gloated over the contrasting emotions that were in store for them.
Earlier than he expected, he saw the whole party withdraw from the
window, and began to congratulate himself that the gentlemen were so
soon retiring. In this, however, he was doomed to disappointment, for
it was only the lawyer and his lady who appeared at the front door, with
Doctor S yn bidding them farewell.
But it was at parting that Cragg heard the lawyer say: “I say be
back within the hour, Christopher, and then we’ll wend along together to
the Chancellor. He sits up late enough, the old rascal, and will
welcome us to drink his port.”
“Well, Tony,” laughed Doctor Syn, “linger if you will upon the way,
but hurry all you can upon your return, for, as you know, the Senora
likes to retire to bed in good time.
“Within the hour without fail,” replied Tony Cobtree, taking his hand
of his lady and placing it under his arm, as they threaded their way
through the packed merry -markers in St. Giles’.
So Mister Cragg had to exert his patience for yet another hour.
However, Tony Cobtree was as good as his word, and better, for in ha lf
an hour he was back, and Cragg had no more waiting, for the two men
immediately left the house on their way to the Chancellor’s.
Although he knew their destination, Cragg followed them to make sure.
He knew that they were not returning that night to White Friars, for he
had heard Doctor Syn say to the Spanish girl, “I will be round for
breakfast in the morning.” So when he saw them both disappear into the
Chancellor’s house he knew that it was safe, as far as they were
concerned, to put the plot in motion. But he lingered on the way back
so that dusk should give place to night. Having seen that the carriage
were ready outside St. Giles’, in order to avoid the crowds, he
leisurely walked towards White Friars. There he waited until the
candles in the upper parlour were extinguished. He saw the light of
bedroom candles being carried into another room, and then he rang the
bell vigorously. The housekeeper, after some delay, opened the door on
the chain, and he handed a note, saying that the matter was very urgent
and he would wait instructions. A few minutes later he was admitted
into the hall, and found, just as the Squire had hoped, that the Spanish
girl had readily fallen into the trap. Although her manner was calm,
her eyes were bathed in tears, as she asked Cragg whether he had seen
the accident. He told her, “No,” but he had seen the unfortunate
gentlemen afterwards and had helped his master to lift him into a
carriage which was now waiting to convey her to the house, which was on
the outskirt s of the town.
“I will just go and hasten my mother,” she said, “and we will start
immediately. Where is the carriage you mention?”
Cragg told her it was beyond the crowd, some two hundred yards
distant, and that he would escort them to it.
- 30 -
Five minutes later Cragg was escorting them through the crowds, and the
carriage was reached. Seeing that they were so full of the calamity,
that no suspicion of foul play had entered their heads, Cragg decided to
climb on to the box rather than ride inside with the ladies, which he
thought they would resent. Once the horses were off, he knew there
would be no stopping, for at such a time the roads would be free.
Only once, and towards the end of the journey, did the girl put her
head out of the carriage window and ask how much further.
“We are nearly there, madame,” answered Cragg, giving the drive a
jocular nudge in his ribs.
A few minutes later they turned through the gates, which, to save
trouble and delay, he had left open, and were sw eeping up the drive at a
gallop. The hall door was open for their reception, and the butler
ushered them in. He led them into the dining-room, after closing the
heavy hall door, and said that if they would wait there a minute he
would inform his master, who was now consulting with the physician in
the sick man’s room.
It was then that Imogene heard two noises which puzzled her for the
moment. The sound of the carriage driving away, and the bolting and
chaining of the hall door. But before any suspicion had time to take
root in her mind the butler returned with an explanation. He reported
that if the sufferer could be kept alive through the night, he had hopes
for his recovery. At the moment he had drifted into unconsciousness,
but directly he revived to his senses the young lady would be permitted
to see him. Two visitors the doctor could not allow, but as the
reverend gentleman kept asking for Imogene, the sight of her would
perhaps bring him a little peace. Since the case was desperate, the
servants had orders to accommodate the ladies in a bedroom adjoining, in
case they were needed in the night. The butler said he had been told to
ask them if they would accept this hospitality, and whether they would
care for a glass of wine before proceeding upstairs. This they both
declined. Imogene saying that she would see her mother to the room, and
hoped they were not causing too much inconvenience, and she added that
if the lady of the house was at liberty she would like to thank her for
all they are doi ng.
“My lady will visit you in a few moments in the bedroom,” replied the
butler. “At the moment she is helping the doctor with the reverent
gentleman’s bandages. I will give instructions for the lady’s-maid to
wait upon you and to see that you have a ll that you require. Will you
follow me, please?”
He led them upstairs, across a wide landing to an open bedroom door.
They went in and found it old-fashioned and comfortable.
“I will inform my lady,” said the butler as he closed the door. In a
minute he was back again and whispered: “The reverend gentleman has
recovered consciousness. Will the young lady come at once, please?”
“Yes, go, my dear,” whispered her mother. “I will wait for you here.
I hope he is better.”
Imogene noticed as sh e passed through the bedroom door that the key