The Mississippi Bubble Part 9

He thought, forsooth, that four o'clock of the afternoon were late enough.' Gad! But you might have given Wilson time at least for one more dinner."

"What do you mean?" exclaimed Law, mystified still.

"Mean! Why, I mean that I've been scouring London to find you. My faith, man, but thou'rt a sudden actor! Where caught you this unseemly haste?"

"Sir Arthur," said the other, slowly, "you do me too much justice. I have made no arrangement to meet Mr. Wilson, nor have I any wish to do so."

"Pish, man! You must not jest with me in such a case as this. 'Tis no masquerading. Let me tell you, Wilson has a vicious sword, and a temper no less vicious. You have touched him on his very sorest spot. He has gone to meet you this vary hour. His coach will be at Bloomsbury Square this afternoon, and there he will await you. I promise you he is eager as yourself. 'Tis too late now to accommodate this matter, even had you not sent back so prompt and bold an answer."

"I have sent him no answer at all!" cried Law. "I have not seen Castleton at all."

"Oh, come!" expostulated Sir Arthur, his face showing a flush of annoyance.

"Sir Arthur," continued Law, as he raised his head, "I am of the misfortune to be but young in London, and I am in need of your friends.h.i.+p. I find myself pressed for rapid transportation. Pray you, give me your mount, for I must have speed. I shall not need the service of your seconding. Indulge me now by asking no more, and wait until we meet again. Give me the horse, and quickly."

"But you must be seconded!" cried the other. "This is too unusual.

Consider!" Yet all the time he was giving a hand at the stirrup of Law, who sprang up and was off before he had time to formulate his own wonder.

"Who and what is he?" muttered the young n.o.bleman to himself as he gazed after the retreating form. "He rides well, at least, as he does everything else well. 'Till I return,' forsooth, 'till I return!' Gad! I half wish you had never come in the first place, my b.l.o.o.d.y Scotland!"

As for Law, he rode swiftly, asking at times his way, losing time here, gaining it again there, creating much hatred among foot folk by his tempestuous speed, but giving little heed to aught save his own purpose.

In time he reached Bradwell Street and flung himself from his panting horse in front of the dingy door of the lodging house. He rushed up the stairs at speed and threw open the door of the little room. It was empty.

There was no word to show what his brother had done, whither he had gone, when he would return. Around the lodgings in Bradwell Street lay a great and unknown London, with its own secrets, its own hatreds, its own crimes. A strange feeling of on-coming ill seized upon the heart of Law, as he stood in the center of the dull little room, now suddenly grown hateful to him. He dashed his hand upon the table, and stood so, scarce knowing which way to turn. A foot sounded in the hallway, and he went to the door. The ancient landlady confronted him. "Where has my brother gone?" he demanded, fiercely, as she came into view along the ill-lighted pa.s.sage-way.

"Gone, good sir?" said she, quaveringly. "Why, how should I know where he has gone? More quality has been here this morning than ever I saw in Bradwell Street in all my life. First comes a coach this morning, with four horses as fine as the king's, and a man atop would turn your blood, he was that solemn-like, sir. Then your brother was up here alone, sir, and very still. I will swear he was never out of this room.

Then, but an hour ago, here comes another coach, as big as the first, and yellower. And out of it steps another fine lord, and he bows to your brother, and in they get, and off goes the coach. But, G.o.d help me, sir!

How should I know which way they went, or what should be their errand?

Methinks it must be some servant come from the royal palace. Sir, be you two of the n.o.bility? And if you be, why come you here to Bradwell Street? Sir, I am but a poor woman. If you be not of the n.o.bility, then you must be either coiners or smugglers. Sir, I am bethought that you are dangerous guests in my house. I am a poor woman, as you know."

Law flung a coin at her as he sped through the hall and down the stair.

"'Twas to Bloomsbury Square," he said, as he sprang into saddle and set heel to the flank of the good horse. "To Bloomsbury Square, then, and fast!"

CHAPTER X

THE RUMOR OF THE QUARREL

Meantime, at the Knollys mansion, there were forthcoming other parts of the drama of the day. The butler announced to Lady Catharine, still sitting dreaming by the window, Sir Arthur Pembroke, now late arrived on foot. Lady Catharine hesitated. "Show the gentleman to this room," she said at length.

Pembroke came forward eagerly as he entered. "Such a day of it, Lady Kitty!" he exclaimed, impulsively. "You will pardon me for coming thus, when I say I have just been robbed of my horse. 'Twas at your very door, and methinks you must know the highwayman. I have come to tell you of the news."

"You don't mean--"

"Yes, but I do! 'Twas no less than Mr. Law, of Scotland. He hath taken my horse and gone off like a whirlwind, leaving me afoot and friendless, save for your good self. I am begging a taste of tea and a little biscuit, for I vow I am half famished."

The Lady Catharine Knollys, in sheer reaction from the strain, broke out into a peal of laughter.

"Sure, he has strange ways about him, this same Mr. Law," said she.

"That young man would have come here direct, and would have made himself quite at home, methinks, had he had but the first encouragement."

"Gad! Lady Catharine, but he has a conceit of himself. Think you of what he has done in his short stay here in town! First, as you know, he sat at cards with two or three of us the other evening--Charlie Castleton, Beau Wilson, myself and one or two besides. And what doth he do but stake a bauble against good gold that he would make _sept et le va_."

"And did it?"

"And did it. Yes, faith, as though he saw it coming. Yet 'twas I who cut and dealt the cards. Nor was that the half of it," he went on. "He let the play run on till 'twas _seize et le va_, then _vingt-un et le va_, then twenty-five. And, strike me! Lady Catharine, if he sat not there cool as my Lord Speaker in the Parliament, and saw the cards run to _trente et le va_, as though 'twere no more to him than the eating of an orange!"

"And showed no anxiety at all?"

"None, as I tell you, and he proved to us plain that he had not two-pence to his name, for that he had been robbed the night before while on his way to town. He staked a diamond, a stone of worth. I must say, his like was never seen at cards."

"He hath strange quality."

"That you may say. Now read me some farther riddles of this same young man. He managed to win from me a little shoe of an American savage, which I had bought at a good price but the day before. It came to idle talk of ladies' shoes, and wagers--well, no matter; and so Mr. Law brought on a sudden quarrel with Beau Wilson. Then, though he seemed not wanting courage, he half declined to face Wilson on the field. Sudden to change as ever, this very morning he sent word to Wilson by Mr.

Castleton that he was ready to meet him at four this afternoon. G.o.d save us! what a haste was there! And now, to cap it all, he hath taken my horse from me and ridden off to keep an appointment which he says he never made! Gad! These he odd ways enough, and almost too keen for me to credit. Why, 'twould not surprise me to hear that he had been here to make love to the Lady Catharine Knollys, and to offer her the proceeds of his luck at faro. And, strike me! if that same luck holds, he'll have all the money in London in another fortnight! I wish him joy of Wilson."

"He may be hurt!" exclaimed the Lady Catharine, starting up.

"Who? Beau Wilson?" exclaimed Sir Arthur. "Take no fear. He carries a good blade."

"Sir Arthur," said the girl, "is there no way to stop this foolish matter? Is there not yet time?"

"Why, as to that," said Sir Arthur, "it all depends upon the speed of my own horse. I should think myself e'en let off cheaply if he took the horse and rode on out of London, and never turned up again. Yet, I bethink me, he has a way of turning up. If so, then we are too late. Let him go. For me, I'd liefer sit me here with Lady Catharine, who, I perceive, is about now to save my death of hunger, since now I see the tea tray coming. Thank thee prettily."

Lady Catharine poured for him with a hand none too steady. "Sir Arthur,"

said she, "you know why I have this concern over such a quarrel. You know well enough what the duello has cost the house of Knollys. Of my uncles, four were killed upon this so-called field of honor. My grandfather met his death in that same way. Another relative, before my time, is reputed to have slain a friend in this same manner. As you know, but three years ago, my brother, the living representative of our family, had the misfortune to slay his kinsman in a duel which sprang out of some little jest. I say to you, Sir Arthur, that this quarrel must be stopped, and we must do thus much for our friends forthwith. It must not go on."

"For our friends! Our friends!" cried Sir Arthur. "Ah, ha! so you mean that the old beau hath hit thee, too, with his ardent eye. Or--hang!

What--you mean not that this stranger, this Scotchman, is a friend of yours?"

"I speak but confusedly," said the Lady Catharine. "'Tis my prejudice against such fighting, as you know. Can we not make haste, and so prevent this meeting?"

"Oh, I doubt if there be much need of haste," said Sir Arthur, balancing his cup in his hand judicially. "This matter will fall through at most for the day. They a.s.suredly can not meet until to-morrow. This will be the talk of London, if it goes on in this pell-mell, hurly-burly fas.h.i.+on. As to the stopping of it--well now, the law under William and Mary saith that one who slays another in a duel of premeditation is nothing but a murderer, and may be hanged like any felon; hanged by the neck, till he be dead. Alas, what a fate for this pretty Scotchman!"

Sir Arthur paused. A look of wonder swept across his face. "Open the window, Annie!" he cried suddenly to the servant. "Your mistress is ill."

CHAPTER XI

AS CHANCE DECREED

Mischance delayed the carriage of Beau Wilson in its journeying to Bloomsbury Square. It had not appeared at that moment, far toward evening, when John Law, riding a trembling and dripping steed, came upon one side of this little open common and gazed anxiously across the s.p.a.ce. He saw standing across from him a carriage, toward which he dashed. He flung open the carriage door, crying out, even before he saw the face within.