Confessions of a Young Lady Part 9

The Ogre brought down his clenched fist heavily on the table.

"Listen to me, you children. For all you know, and for all I know, you're nothing but a lot of paupers; and if you don't want to find yourself inside a workhouse you'll leave it to me to make the best of things. So now you've got it."

We had got it. I saw d.i.c.k's cheeks blanch. I was conscious that my own went pale. If the awful thing at which he hinted was true, then things were miles worse than I had ever supposed. But was it true? And how, with him sitting there, were we going to look for proof of either its truth or falsehood?

Just as I was beginning to fear that I should make a goose of myself and cry, I heard someone come up the front doorsteps and ask,--

"Is Miss Boyes at home? Miss Molly Boyes?"

I rushed out into the hall. There, standing at the hall door, which was wide open, was the handsomest man I had ever seen. He was very tall and sunburned. He had his cap in his hand, so that you could see that he had short curly hair. And his moustache was just beginning to come. I wondered if he was a harbinger of more trouble. He did not look as if he was; but he might be.

"I am Molly Boyes."

"My name is Sanford. I am afraid I ought to apologise for my intrusion, but I am a cousin of Hetty Travers, who tells me you are a friend of hers. I am staying a few miles from here, and she has written to say that she is afraid you are in trouble, and to ask me to run over and see if I can be of a.s.sistance."

Hetty's cousin! That did not sound like trouble. How sweet of her to think of me, and to send that great strong man! She might have guessed what was happening to us--the dear!

"I am in trouble. I have lost my mother. And now, there is Mr Miller."

"Mr Miller? Who is he?"

The children had already trooped into the hall. Then d.i.c.k appeared. I introduced him.

"This is my brother d.i.c.k. d.i.c.k, this is Mr Sanford, a cousin of Hetty Travers. You have heard me speak of Hetty. Mr Sanford has come to know if he can be of any a.s.sistance to us."

"If you really would like to do something to help us--"

There d.i.c.k stopped, as if in doubt.

"I should," said Mr Sanford.

I rather fancied from the way he smiled that he had taken a liking to d.i.c.k upon the spot. I did so hope he had.

"Then perhaps you'll lend me a hand in chucking this man Miller through the window. He's almost a size too large for me. Come inside here."

We all trooped back into the morning-room, Mr Sanford and d.i.c.k in front. d.i.c.k pointed to the Ogre.

"You see that individual. His name's Miller. He's taken possession of the place as though it belongs to him; he's made free with my mother's property and papers; and when I ask him to leave the house he talks about treating me to a good sound thras.h.i.+ng."

"He does, does he? Is he a relation of yours?"

"Relation! He's not even an acquaintance. He came here uninvited when my mother lay dead, took advantage of the state of mind we were in to gain a footing in the house, and now we can't get rid of him."

Mr Sanford turned to me.

"Is it your wish, Miss Boyes, that this person should leave the house?"

"It is very much my wish. He knows it is."

"You hear, sir. I hope it is not necessary to emphasise the wish which Miss Boyes has expressed so clearly."

Cook struck in.

"A pretty way of talking, upon my word. Perhaps, my fine gentleman, while you are putting your nose into other people's business you'll see that our wages are paid. Mr Miller's only trying to save us from being robbed, that's all he's doing. Three months' wages there is due to each of us servants, and over."

Mr Sanford paid no heed at all to cook. He continued to eye the Ogre.

"Well, sir?"

"Well, sir, to you."

"You heard what I said?"

"I did. And if you are wise you'll hear what I say, and not interfere in what is absolutely no concern of yours."

"Nothing in this house is any concern of yours," burst out d.i.c.k. "And well you know it!"

"Who's dog is this?" asked Mr Sanford.

The Ogre's dog--a horrid, savage-looking creature--was sniffing at Mr Sanford's ankles, showing his teeth and growling in a way that was anything but friendly. Its owner grinned, as if the animal's behaviour met with his approval.

"That's my dog. It objects to strangers--of a certain cla.s.s."

Suddenly Mr Sanford stooped down, gripped the brute by the scruff of its neck and the root of its tail, swung it through the air and out of the window. Harris happened to be staring in at the time. The dog struck him as it pa.s.sed. Over he went, and off tore the dog down the drive, yelping and howling as if it had had more than enough of our establishment. The Ogre sprang from his chair, and he used a very bad word.

"What do you mean by doing that?"

Harris, as he regained his feet, gave utterance to his woes.

"That's a nice thing to do, to throw a great dog like that right into a man's face! What next, I wonder?"

Mr Sanford was most civil.

"Hope it hasn't hurt you, but I'm afraid that your face must have been in the way." Then to the Ogre: "Well, sir, we are still waiting. By which route do you propose to follow your dog?"

There was something in Mr Sanford's looks and manner which, in view of the little adventure his dog had had, apparently caused the Ogre to suspect that the moment had arrived when discretion might be the better part of valour.

"Before we go any further, perhaps you'll let me know who's going to repay what I've advanced? Nearly two hundred pounds I'm out of pocket."

"You're nearly two hundred pounds out of pocket!" cried d.i.c.k. "What for?"

"Why, for seeing that your mother was buried like a respectable woman.

It begins to strike me that you'd have liked to have had her buried by the parish."

The Ogre thrust his red face so very close to d.i.c.k's that I suppose the provocation and temptation together were more than d.i.c.k could stand. Anyhow, d.i.c.k gave him a tremendous slap on the cheek. In a moment Mr Sanford was between them.

"It serves you right," he declared. "It shows what sort of person you must be that you should permit yourself to use such language in this house of mourning."

"Harris," shouted the Ogre, "run round to Charlie Radford and Bill Perkins and tell 'em I want 'em, quick! And loose the dogs and bring 'em back with you!"