The Lion's Skin by Rafael Sabatini
CHAPTER XIV. LADY OSTERMORE
Lord Ostermore and Mr. Caryll looked across the lawn towards the house,but failed to see any sign of her ladyship's approach.
Mr. Caryll raised questioning eyes to his servant's stolid face, and inthat moment caught the faintest rustle of a gown behind the arbor. Hehalf-turned to my lord, and nodded slightly in the direction of thesound, a smile twisting his lips. With a gesture he dismissed Leduc, whoreturned to the neighborhood of the pond.
His lordship frowned, angered by the interruption. Then: "If yourladyship will come inside," said he, "you will hear better and withgreater comfort."
"Not to speak of dignity," said Mr. Caryll.
The stiff gown rustled again, this time without stealth. The countessappeared, no whit abashed. Mr. Caryll rose politely.
"You sit with spies to guard your approaches," said she.
"As a precaution against spies," was his lordship's curt answer.
She measured him with a cool eye. "What is't ye hide?" she asked him.
"My shame," he answered readily. Then after a moment's pause, he roseand offered her his seat. "Since you have thrust yourself in where youwere not bidden, you may hear and welcome, ma'am," said he. "It may helpyou to understand what you term my injustice to my son."
"Are these matters wherewith to importune a stranger--a guest?"
"I am proposing to say in your presence what I was about to say in yourabsence," said he, without answering her question. "Be seated, ma'am."
She sniffed, closed her fan with a clatter, and sat down. Mr. Caryllresumed his long chair, and his lordship took the stool.
"I am told," the latter resumed presently, recapitulating in part forher ladyship's better understanding, "that his Grace of Wharton isintending to reopen the South Sea scandal, as soon as he can findevidence that I was one of those who profited by the company's charter."
"Profited?" she echoed, between scorn and bitter amusement. "Profited,did ye say? I think your dotage is surely upon you--you that have sunknigh all your fortune and all that you had with me in this thievingventure--d'ye talk of profits?"
"At the commencement I did profit, as did many others. Had I beencontent with my gains, had I been less of a trusting fool, it had beenwell. I was dazzled, maybe, by the glare of so much gold. I needed more;and so I lost all. That is evil enough. But there is worse. I may becalled upon to make restitution of what I had from the company withoutpaying for it--I may give all that's left me and barely cover theamount, and I may starve and be damned thereafter."
Her ladyship's face was ghastly. Horror stared from her pale eyes. Shehad known, from the beginning, of that twenty thousand pounds' worth ofstock, and she had had--with his lordship--her anxious moments whenthe disclosures were being made six months ago that had brought theCraggses, Aislabie and a half-dozen others to shame and ruin.
His lordship looked at her a moment. "And if this shipwreck comes, asit now threatens," he continued, "it is my son I shall have to thankfor't."
She found voice to ask: "How so?" courage to put the questionscornfully. "Is it not rather Rotherby you have to thank that thedisclosures did not come six months ago? What was it saved you but thefriendship his Grace of Wharton had for Charles?"
"Why, then," stormed his lordship, "did he not see to't that hepreserved that friendship? It but needed a behavior of as much decencyand honor as Wharton exacts in his associates--and the Lord knows howmuch that is!" he sneered. "As it is, he has gone even lower than thatabandoned scourer; so low that even this rakehell duke must become hisenemy for his own credit's sake. He attempts mock-marriages with ladiesof quality; and he attempts murder by stabbing through the back agentleman who has spared his worthless life. Not even the president ofthe Hell Fire Club can countenance these things, strong stomach thoughhe have for villainy. It is something to have contrived to come so lowthat even his Grace of Wharton must turn upon him, and swear his ruin.And so that he may ruin him, his grace is determined to ruin me. Now youunderstand, madam--and you, Mr. Caryll."
Mr. Caryll understood. He understood even more than his lordship meanthim to understand; more than his lordship understood, himself. So, too,did her ladyship, if we may judge from the reply she made him.
"You fool," she railed. "You vain, blind, selfish fool! To blameRotherby for this. Rather should Rotherby, blame you that by your damneddishonesty have set a weapon against him in his enemy's hands."
"Madam!" he roared, empurpling, and coming heavily to his feet. "Do youknow who I am?"
"Ay--and what you are, which is something you will never know. God! Wasthere ever so self-centered a fool? Compassionate me, Heaven!" She rose,too, and turned to Mr. Caryll. "You, sir," she said to him, "you havebeen dragged into this, I know not why."
She broke off suddenly, looking at him, her eyes a pair of gimlets nowfor penetration. "Why have you been dragged into it?" she demanded."What is here? I demand to know. What help does my lord expect fromyou that he tells you this? Does he--" She paused an instant, a cunningsmile breaking over her wrinkled, painted face. "Does he propose to sellhimself to the king over the water, and are you a secret agent come todo the buying? Is that the answer to this riddle?"
Mr. Caryll, imperturbable outwardly, but very ill at ease within, smiledand waved the delicate hand that appeared through the heavy ruffle athis wrist. "Madam, indeed--ah--your ladyship goes very fast. You leapso at conclusions for which no grounds can exist. His lordship is sooverwrought--as well he may be, alas!--that he cares not before whom hespeaks. Is it not plainly so?"
She smiled very sourly. "You are a very master of evasion, sir. But yourevasion gives me the answer that I lack--that and his lordship's face.I drew my bow at a venture; yet look, sir, and tell me, has my quarrelmissed its mark?"
And, indeed, the sudden fear and consternation written on my lord's facewas so plain that all might read it. He was--as Mr. Caryll had remarkedon the first occasion that they met--the worst dissembler that everset hand to a conspiracy. He betrayed himself at every step, if notpositively, by incautious words, why then by the utter lack of controlhe had upon his countenance.
He made now a wild attempt to bluster. "Lies! Lies!" he protested. "Yourladyship's a-dreaming. Should I be making bad worse by plotting at mytime of life? Should I? What can King James avail me, indeed?"
"'Tis what I will ask Rotherby to help me to discover," she informedhim.
"Rotherby?" he cried. "Would you tell that villain what you suspect?Would you arm him with another weapon for my undoing?"
"Ha!" said she. "You admit so much, then?" And she laughed disdainfully.Then with a sudden sternness, a sudden nobility almost in the motherhoodwhich she put forward--"Rotherby is my son," she said, "and I'll nothave my son the victim of your follies as well as of your injustice. Wemay curb the one and the other yet, my lord."
And she swept out, fan going briskly in one hand, her long ebony caneswinging as briskly in the other.
"O God!" groaned Ostermore, and sat down heavily.
Mr. Caryll helped himself copiously to snuff. "I think," said he, hisvoice so cool that it had an almost soothing influence, "I think yourlordship has now another reason why you should go no further in thismatter."
"But if I do not--what other hopes have I? Damn me! I'm a ruined maneither way."
"Nay, nay," Mr. Caryll reminded him. "Assuming even that you arecorrectly informed, and that his Grace of Wharton is determined to moveagainst you, it is not to be depended that he will succeed in collectingsuch evidence as he must need. At this date much of the evidence thatmay once have been available will have been dissipated. You are rash todespair so soon."
"There is that," his lordship admitted thoughtfully, a little hopefully,even; "there is that." And with the resilience of his nature--of menwho form opinions on slight grounds, and, therefore, are ready to changethem upon grounds as slight--"I' faith! I may have been running to meetmy trouble. 'Tis but a rumor, after all, that Wharton is for mischief,and--as you say--as like as
"Still, I'll make doubly sure. My letter to King James can do no harm.We'll talk of it again, when you are in case to travel."
It passed through Mr. Caryll's mind at the moment that Lady Ostermoreand her son might between them brew such mischief as might seriouslyhinder him from travelling, and he was very near the truth. For alreadyher ladyship was closeted with Rotherby in her boudoir.
The viscount was dressed for travelling, intent upon withdrawing to thecountry, for he was well-informed already of the feeling of thetown concerning him, and had no mind to brave the slights andcold-shoulderings that would await him did he penetrate to any of thehaunts of people of quality and fashion. He stood before his mother now,a tall, lank figure, his black face very gloomy, his sensual lipsthrust forward in a sullen pout. She, in a gilt arm-chair before hertoilet-table, was telling him the story of what had passed, his father'sfear of ruin and disgrace. He swore between his teeth when he heard thatthe danger threatened from the Duke of Wharton.
"And your father's destitution means our destitution--yours and mine;for his gambling schemes have consumed my portion long since."
He laughed and shrugged. "I marvel I should concern myself," said he."What can it avail me to save the rags that are left him of his fortune?He's sworn I shall never touch a penny that he may die possessed of."
"But there's the entail," she reminded him. "If restitution is demanded,the Crown will not respect it. 'Twill be another sop to throw thewhining curs that were crippled by the bubble, and who threaten todisturb the country if they are not appeased. If Wharton carries outthis exposure, we're beggars--utter beggars, that may ask an alms toquiet hunger."
"'Tis Wharton's present hate of me," said he thoughtfully, and swore."The damned puppy! He'd make a sacrifice of me upon the altar ofrespectability, just as he made a sacrifice of the South Sea bubblers.What else was the stinking rakehell seeking but to put himself rightagain in the eyes of a town that was nauseated with him and hisexcesses? The self-seeking toad that makes virtue his profession--thevirtue of others--and profligacy his recreation!" He smote fist intopalm. "There's a way to silence him."
"Ah?" she looked up quickly, hopefully.
"A foot or so of steel," Rotherby explained, and struck the hilt of hissword. "I might pick a quarrel with him. 'Twould not be difficult. Comeupon him unawares, say, and strike him. That should force a fight."
"Tusk, fool! He's all empanoplied in virtue where you are concerned.He'd use the matter of your affair with Caryll as a reason not tomeet you, whatever you might do, and he'd set his grooms to punish anyindignity you might put upon him."
"He durst not."
"Pooh! The town would all approve him in it since your running Caryllthrough the back. What a fool you were, Charles."
He turned away, hanging his head, full conscious, and with no littlebitterness, of how great had been his folly.
"Salvation may lie for you in the same source that has brought you tothe present pass--this man Caryll," said the countess presently. "Isuspect him more than ever of being a Jacobite agent."
"I know him to be such."
"You know it?"
"All but; and Green is assured of it, too." He proceeded to tell herwhat he knew. "Ever since Green met Caryll at Maidstone has he suspectedhim, yet but that I kept him to the task he would have abandoned it.He's in my pay now as much as in Lord Carteret's, and if he can runCaryll to earth he receives his wages from both sides."
"Well--well? What has he discovered? Anything?"
"A little. This Caryll frequented regularly the house of one Everard,who came to town a week after Caryll's own arrival. This Everard--SirRichard Everard is known to be a Jacobite. He is the Pretender'sParis agent. They would have laid him by the heels before, but thatby precipitancy they feared to ruin their chances of discovering thebusiness that may have brought him over. They are giving him rope atpresent. Meanwhile, by my cursed folly, Caryll's visits to him wereinterrupted. But there has been correspondence between them."
"I know," said her ladyship. "A letter was delivered him just now. Itried to smoke him concerning it. But he's too astute."
"Astute or not," replied her son, "once he leaves Stretton House itshould not be long ere he betrays himself and gives us cause to lay himby the heels. But how will that help us?"
"Do you ask how? Why, if there is a plot, and we can discover it, wemight make terms with the secretary of state to avoid any disclosureWharton may intend concerning the South Sea matter."
"But that would be to discover my father for a Jacobite! What advantageshould we derive from that? 'Twould be as bad as t'other matter."
"Let me die, but ye're a slow-witted clod, Charles. D'ye think we canfind no way to disclose the plot and Mr. Caryll--and Everard, too, ifyou choose--without including your father? My lord is timidly cautious,and you may depend he'll not have put himself in their hands to anyextent just yet."
The viscount paced the chamber slowly in long strides, head bent inthought, hands clasped behind him. "It will need consideration," saidhe. "But it may serve, and I can count upon Green. He is satisfied thatCaryll befooled him at Maidstone, and that he kept the papers he carrieddespite the thoroughness of Green's investigations. Moreover, he washandled with some roughness by Caryll. For that and the other matterhe asks redress--thirsts for it. He's a very willing tool, as I havefound."
"Then see that you use him adroitly to your work," said his mother."Best not leave town at present, Charles."
"Why, no," said he. "I'll find me a lodging somewhere at hand, since myfond sire is determined I shall pollute no longer the sacrosanctity ofhis dwelling. Perhaps when I have pulled him out of this quicksand, hewill deign to mitigate the bitterness of his feelings for me. Though,faith, I find life endurable without the affection he should haveconsecrated to me."
"Ay," she said, looking up at him. "You are his son; too much his son,I fear. 'Tis why he dislikes you so intensely. He sees in you the faultsto which he is blind in himself."
"Sweet mother!" said his lordship, bowing.
She scowled at him. She could deal in irony herself--and loved to--butshe detested to have it dealt to her.
He bowed again; gained the door, and would have passed out but that shedetained him.
"'Tis a pity, on some scores, to dispose so utterly of this Caryll,"she said. "The pestilent coxcomb has his uses, and his uses, likeadversity's, are sweet."
He paused to question her with his eyes.
"He might have made a husband for Hortensia, and rid me of the companyof that white-faced changeling."
"Might he so?" quoth the viscount, face and voice, expressionless.
"They were made for each other," her ladyship opined.
"Were they so?"
"Ay--were they. And faith they've discovered it. I would you had seenthe turtles in the arbor an hour ago, when I surprised them."
His lordship attempted a smile, but achieved nothing more than a wryface and a change of color. His mother's eyes, observing these signs,grew on a sudden startled.
"Why, fool," quoth she, "do you hold there still? Art not yet cured ofthat folly?"
"What folly, ma'am?"
"This folly that already has cost you so much. 'Sdeath! As I'm a woman,if you'd so much feeling for the girl, I marvel ye did not marry herhonestly and in earnest when the chance was yours."
The pallor of his face increased. He clenched his hands. "I marvelmyself that I did not," he answered passionately--and went out, slammingthe door after him, and leaving her ladyship agape and angry.