Blake's Burden Part 43

"That is so," Blake replied unguardedly, for he did not see where his uncle's remark led. "Boring plant is expensive, and transport costs something. Then you have to spend a good deal beforehand if you wish to float a company."

"But you believe this venture will pay you?"

"Harding is convinced of it, and he's shrewd. Personally, I don't know enough about the business to judge, but if I had any money to risk I'd take his word for it."

"Well," said Challoner, urging his horse to a trot, "perhaps we had better get on."

They joined the company gathered round the edge of the gorse and when Challoner greeted an acquaintance Blake found what he thought was a good place for getting a start from. He could hear the cries of the huntsman and an occasional blast of his horn among the furze; once or twice a ranging dog broke cover and disappeared again. Outside, red-coated men and some in grey jammed their hats tight and tried to keep their fidgeting horses quiet. Close by a young girl, finely habited, with a glowing face, gracefully controlled her plunging mount, and a few older women seemed to have some trouble in holding their thoroughbreds. Everybody wore a strained, eager look, but Blake was disappointed, for although he looked round for Millicent and Foster he did not see them.

By and by a deep baying broke out and swelled into a burst of thrilling sound, the horn called sharply, somebody shouted, and there was a rush of well-mounted riders towards a corner of the gorse. Then the hounds streamed out, speeding across the gra.s.sy slope with a small, red-brown object travelling very fast some distance in front. Blake, who let his chestnut go, swept down the hill at a furious gallop, and felt the horse rise and heard a thud of hoofs on sloppy ground as a fence was cleared. Then he toiled across a strip of ploughing, with firm grip on the bridle, for, exhilarating as the chase was, he could not enjoy it long. In his younger days he had hunted the country he was now riding over, he had been a crack polo player, and had covered wide stretches of the Canadian prairie in the saddle. He could feel the power of the good horse he bestrode, the speed fired his blood, and for the first few minutes he had been in danger of forgetting that the keen pleasure he was conscious of could not be enjoyed long.

There was a crash as they broke through the top of a bending hedge, he heard a rail break beneath the hoofs, and they were flying across a wide pasture, the chestnut pulling hard. It needed some strength of will to hold him, but Blake did so, keeping his place behind the foremost while the rest of the hunt tailed out. After another awkward jump or two most of the rearguard were out of sight, scattering, no doubt, in search of gates, and Blake was not pleased to find himself level with two well-mounted, red-coated men. There was a brook with a fringe of willows along its side not far ahead and, a short distance to the right, a deep, tree-shrouded hollow. This was where he must break off, but, sitting a good horse in the company of hard-riding men, it was not pleasant to look as if he s.h.i.+rked the leap.

"'Ware rotten bank!" cried one, glancing round at him. "Head for the pollard stump!"

"Give me a lead," Blake shouted. "You know the country."

With a strong effort, he held the chestnut back, and saw the first red-coated figure rise above the willows and alight with the mire flying among the rushes across the stream. Then he swung to the right, where he remembered there was a broad, shallow place, and drove the chestnut at its widest part. They came down with a great splash and the horse floundered badly, for the bottom was soft, but Blake had done what he meant to do, and as the second horseman leaped across a narrower spot he caught a sympathetic, "Hard luck!"

Then he turned the chestnut and scrambling out upon the bank he had left trotted to the hollow, where he was lost among the trees before the tail of the hunt came up. He thought he had withdrawn himself neatly and must now get home as soon as possible, because if his uncle saw no opportunity of picking up the hounds again after an easy ride, he might return before Mrs. Chudleigh could be dealt with.

Crossing a sunk lane by and by, Blake, who glanced at his watch, held straight across the fields, and was glad to find that the hunt-club subsidies had had some effect in determining the nature of the fences.

The most part could be jumped without much trouble, but the chestnut was foul-coated and flecked with spume when at length he turned into a road. There he pulled up to a steady trot and got home, rather wet and splashed with mire, early in the afternoon, and after a bath and change felt himself ready for the encounter. He had not much diplomacy, but thought he could make up for that by stubbornly sticking to his point.

As he sat in the library with the door left open he heard Mrs. Foster and her friends arrive and recognized the voices. Mrs. Keith had come and Millicent, besides another lady whom he surmised was Mrs.

Chudleigh. He hardly thought his aunt, whom he had not taken into his confidence, would mention him, and it might be better if he waited until tea was served, after which the party would probably separate and saunter about the hall and picture gallery. It was important that he should have a few words with Mrs. Chudleigh alone. Fortune favoured him, for when he entered the gallery she stood before a picture and the nearest of her companions was some yards further on. She started when he came up and joined her.

"You remember me, though I imagine my appearance is a surprise to you,"

he said with a bow.

"Yes," she answered calmly, though she had received something of a shock. "n.o.body told me you had returned from Canada."

"There was no obvious reason for thinking you would be interested. But will you sit down? My uncle has some rather good miniatures which might please you. They're in yonder drawer."

She looked at him sharply. "You may bring them. I suppose you have something to say."

Blake placed the case of miniatures on a table and she took up one or two. "They are worth seeing, and in good French style; beauties of Marie Antoinette's court, perhaps, though this one in the high-waisted dress may have been attached to Josephine's." Then she put them down with a smile. "Now they have served their purpose. What have you to say?"

"You must excuse the bluntness which I feel is needful. You came over to see my uncle and I'm afraid you were disappointed in finding me instead."

"Suppose I admit it? That wouldn't prevent my seeing Colonel Challoner another time."

"Certainly not, provided that you still wished to do so, but I'm inclined to think you won't consider it necessary when you know what my att.i.tude is. You must realize that a good deal depends on this."

"Yes," she said frankly, "in a sense, you're important. I see you understand the situation."

"You believe you have the power to force my uncle into furthering a plan of yours. You found him obstinate at your first attempt, but you think his resolution may since have given way."

"Yes," she said; "if I insist, he cannot refuse me."

"That is where we differ. I'm in your way, and you'll excuse my saying that you'll find me rather troublesome to remove. Then a secret loses its value when people find it out, and it's perhaps news to you that a man from Canada called upon my uncle not long since with a story very like yours. He found the Colonel no more amenable than you did."

Mrs. Chudleigh looked surprised, but that was all. "It may save us both trouble if you tell me candidly what you mean to do."

Blake glanced down the gallery. Mrs. Keith was sitting at a table with some old prints spread out before her, but as the light was fading he hardly supposed that she could see him well, though he imagined that she was watching. In the background Mrs. Foster was talking to Miss Challoner, with Millicent standing in the shadow. The Challoner portraits were growing indistinct, though their heavy gold frames glimmered faintly, and he could no longer distinguish the carving on the ends of the dark oak beams. Though he thought he was safe from interruption by any of the others, Blake realized that he had no time to lose, because Challoner must arrive soon.

"Yes," he said, "I think it would be better. Well, I mean to relieve my uncle from any further attacks of the kind you have made on him and to defend my cousin's honour. You must see that you are powerless to injure it unless I confirm your tale."

Mrs. Chudleigh clenched her hand and her eyes flashed. "You are willing to bear undeserved disgrace, to wander about Canada, an outcast from all society you could take pleasure in? It's incomprehensible, unless you have something to gain."

Blake regarded her with a tolerant smile. "My dear lady, it's obvious that I should not gain anything by supporting your ingenious theory of what happened on the frontier, because if you were right, your only power over the Colonel would lie in his supposed desire to keep it quiet, which would, of course, prevent my clearing my character. If, however, you wish to believe that I have been bought over by him or Bertram, you must do so. I'll own that it seems the best explanation; but I should then have a strong reason for opposing you."

"But you are opposing me."

"Yes," said Blake. "My object in doing so hasn't much bearing on the matter so far as you are concerned, but it will simplify things if you will realize that I mean to stand between my relatives and harm. I'm not a clever player of this kind of game, but you must see I hold the ace of trumps among my cards. Now you know I'm ready to play it, don't you think it would be wiser to leave the Colonel alone?"

For a few moments she looked at him in silence, and though she burned with anger and disappointment she kept her head. She was beaten; no art that she could practise and no argument would prevail against the man's resolution. The only thing left was to retire with as much dignity as possible from the fight.

"Well," she answered, getting up, "I suppose there is no more to be said, and after all you might have shown me less consideration. I must do you the justice to admit that I believe you are acting out of loyalty to your friends."

"Thank you," Blake said with a bow. "Now I notice Mrs. Foster coming towards us and imagine that she doesn't mean to stay much longer."

Mrs. Chudleigh left him, and in another few minutes Mrs. Foster declared that she must go, while as they walked towards the staircase Mrs. Keith came up to Blake.

"Well?" she asked in an anxious tone.

Blake smiled at her. "I think we needn't fear any further trouble."

Admiration shone in Margaret Keith's eyes. "It's a great relief, though I knew the worst danger was over when you came home. None of the Challoners ever did so fine a thing, d.i.c.k."

She went by before he could answer and he turned back into the gallery while the others descended to the hall. Standing near a window, he saw Foster's car speed down the drive; then the hoot of the horn reached him from the corner by the lodge, and there was silence again. It was broken a few minutes later by a beat of hoofs, and Blake, looking out, saw Challoner dismount.

"Where did you get to, d.i.c.k?" the Colonel asked when his nephew went down to meet him. "I saw you close behind the hounds for a time, but you disappeared and n.o.body seemed to know what had become of you."

"I had a good run," Blake said, smiling. "Then I dropped out and rode home across country. I remembered that there was something I had to do."

"It must have been something important to take you off the field when the hounds were running as they were then."

"I thought the matter needed attention," Blake rejoined, lighting a cigar.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

A DIFFICULT QUESTION

On the evening after Mrs. Chudleigh's visit, Challoner sent for Blake, who had just returned from an afternoon's shooting with Foster. The Colonel was sitting in a big leather chair near a good fire, but he had a heavy rug wrapped about him.