Max Pemberton - Murder Mysteries Boxed-Set - 40+ Books in One Edition

"It seems to me that the village should think itself lucky to have such a man as you about, Mr. Reubens," said I, after a bit. "There's no knowing what these London chaps aren't up to nowadays. Do you remember when old Lord Ramer was married down Bedford way last autumn? Well, the very night he was honeymooning, three of them entered his place and filled themselves right up with plate and jewels. Broke into his dressing-room, they did, and wired all the park, so that when his butler went after them he cut his face cruel. What do you think of that?"

"Ay, but it was bad business, Mr. Bigg."

"You're right there; and if I was you I'd keep my eye on this chap you speak of. Likely enough he's news of what's going on yonder. But I don't doubt you'll be good enough for him—and more to come."

This, you see, I said, to please him; and mighty pleased he was at it, giving me trouble to get away to the post-master. But I was itching to read the telegram which had gone to Heresford, and when he had drunk another glass of beer we went across to the post-office together. Old Barker was back from his hymn-singing now, and he made haste to light up his lamps and to refer to his book. It wasn't ten minutes before he'd come across the other message, and no sooner had I cast my eye over it than I knew the game was up.

"Have wired the old boy as directed. What is Nicky up to now?"

Here was the telegram I read, and pretty bad it made me feel, I must say. How my brother Jerome could have been such a fool, the Lord only knows; but there were the words, and I knew that Heresford must already have seen them.

"There's been a mistake here," said I to Barker, keeping as cool as I could. "The telegram you sent up to me was meant for Lord Heresford."

"You don't say so!" cried he, running hurriedly to the book. "Dear, dear, what an annoying thing to happen, Mr. Bigg!"

But I was wishing already that I had bitten my tongue off before making such a fool of myself.

"Well, perhaps it's my mistake," I cried, as quickly as I could. "But this wasn't the telegram I was looking for, that is all. You're quite sure that the words came over the wire as you have written them, Mr. Barker?"

"Just as sure as mortal man can be, I took them down myself. Not that I'm any Pope of Rome, Mr. Bigg, and above mistakes."

"No, that you bain't, Barker," said Reubens; "no more ain't we all. So long as the world is, so long will some of us go queer in the head when the weather's hot. Let's hope as there won't be no mistakes when our books is balanced upstairs. It 'ud be hard on a man to find himself in hell for the want of a bit of good summing."

"That's true," said the postmaster, and he said it very solemnly. "But I'll trust in the Lord's books, Mr. Reubens."

I listened to the two fools wrangling together for some minutes, and then it occurred to me that I ought to get back to the house again. I'd stopped long enough to put my foot into it pretty badly, and long enough to know that nothing but a miracle could marry Sir Nicolas Steele to Janet Oakley. It was bad enough when Heresford received the first telegram; but I saw—and I could have bitten my hand because I'd done it—that I had put him in the way of getting the second message, which must tell him as plain as a book what the matter meant. "Like enough," said I, "he'll be over here with the post to-morrow, and then where shall we be?" Upon my word, it was the crudest bit of business that I'd met with in the ten years I'd been man to Sir Nicolas Steele.

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It was quite dark when I came up to the White House. Old Mr. Oakley was snoozing in his arm- chair; Sir Nicolas was with Miss Oakley in the garden. I didn't mean to tell him any thing until he went up to bed; but he heard that I was back, and he sent for me to come out to the summer-house to him. When I got there, he was standing in the doorway of the arbor, with Miss Janet hanging on to his arm, as pretty a little thing as a man might find between London and Vienna.

"Well, Hildebrand," said she, "and I hope that you've brought me something nice from the post-office?"

"And I do wish I had, to be sure, miss," said I.

"Are they talking about Saturday in the village?" she went on, giving Sir Nicolas a good squeeze with her arm, as I could see.

"Doing nothing but talk of it, miss," I said. "There's to be fine doings down there when you're gone away. Mr. Oakley's a kind-hearted gentleman, I must say."

She didn't answer me now, but turned to my master, and cried:

"What do you say, Pat?"—like the other, she always called him Pat, because he was an Irishman, I suppose. "What do you say? Don't you think that we ought to stop and see the fun? Doesn't the thought of a roasted ox tempt you? We could dance on the green, you know."

He answered her with a laughing look, and just touched the top of her head with his lips. Never, I think, was Sir Nicolas so far gone with any woman as he was with Janet Oakley, and I knew by his way that he'd fight strong before he gave her up.

"Did you find the letter I sent you for?" he asked me presently, and when he'd done looking at her.

"No, sir, I did not," replied I, knowing well that he meant to ask me about the telegram. "It seems to me that it's been delivered at the wrong address."

"Are we likely to get it back again?" he continued, meaning to ask me, "Are we likely to weather the mistake?"

"I fear not, sir," said I; and dark as it was I could see him bite his lip with vexation.

"What's it all mean?" cried Miss Oakley now. "Has that silly old Barker been losing your letters?"

"I fear he has," said Sir Nicolas, "or worse than losing them—he's been presenting them to other people."

"He's a dreadful person," said she, "so prim and old-fashioned. He always puts his gloves on to deliver a telegram. It's quite an event in his history. I am sure he enters it in his family Bible."

My master laughed at this, but it was a cold laugh, and I could see that he wasn't so easy, though he had to put the best face on it.

"It doesn't very much matter at all, Hildebrand," said he; "likely the thing will turn up in the morning. Any way, it's not worth the troubling about now."

With this he turned away, and they went together toward the dining-room, Mr. Oakley calling them from the window. I did not see Sir Nicolas again until he came up to his bedroom, and then he had drank more whiskey than was good for him. It was always a way with him when he was like that to turn round upon me; but I knew him too well to take notice, and I let him rave as much as he liked.

"If it hadn't been for that cursed brother of yours, we shouldn't be in this mess," he whimpered when he began to undress himself. "Faith, to think how near we've been to it!"

He went on like this for a long time, and then began to tell me that he wouldn't leave the house.

"If I go—hang me!" said he, hurling his boots to the other side of the room. " Is it for such a one as him that I'm to be packing again? No, by Heaven! I'll shoot him first. D'ye hear that, Hildebrand? I'll shoot the man first! Who is he, to come barking here about my business? Will you tell me that, please?"

I didn't see fit to argue with him then, and when I had got him into bed. and put the razors out of his reach, I left him mumbling to himself, and went back to my bedroom to pack my few clothes.

"Bigg," said I to myself, "you're going to make a journey to-morrow. It may be that you're going to Brussels, it may be that you're going to Paris—but go you must; and where the ready is to come from, you don't quite know. Nicky couldn't rake fifty together to save his life, and you haven't got a shilling to your back."

Things were now in such a state that this question of money troubled me more than any thing. Look where I would, I didn't see how we were to get enough to keep afloat for a week on the other side; and when I remembered that we should have to cut in a hurry, things seemed as bad as they could be. That we must go, I never had a doubt. Once Heresford was in the house, Sir Nicolas Steele would leave it smart enough. It remained to see if the man would come.