Sarah's School Friend Part 25

Sarah looked at him, then towards Balmoral, and then she turned to him again. 'It's not near the house, Uncle Howroyd; it's only a bonfire.--What are you all so upset about?' she demanded; for Tom, who was noted for his cautious driving, seemed to have caught the excitement, and was driving faster than Sarah had ever known him do.

Mr Howroyd took field-gla.s.ses from his pocket, and fixing them to his eyes, gazed earnestly in front of him; then he muttered something under his breath. When he took the gla.s.ses away, he had an expression in his eyes Sarah had never seen there before; but he did not answer her question, and his niece could not imagine what had come to her cheery, good-humoured uncle.

The car was going pretty fast, and Mr Clay seemed satisfied with the progress they were making for the next few minutes, as well he might, for it was above legal speed.

'Uncle Howroyd, we shall be fined, if we don't get killed first,'

observed Sarah, who was surprised that her uncle did not make some protest against what she considered reckless speed.

Mr Howroyd did not seem to hear what she said, and she gave his arm a tug; but at that moment a red tongue of fire shot up high above the trees in Balmoral park; and now that they were nearer, all--including Mark Clay himself, whose eyesight was not very good--could see that this was no bonfire.

'Put on speed!' he roared to the frightened Tom Fox.

'We're at thirty-five now, sir,' said the man.

'Put on the highest you can,' again shouted Mr Clay, with a muttered imprecation.

But Mr Howroyd leant forward, and putting his hand on his brother's arm, said kindly but firmly, 'Nay, lad, we'll be there in a short time now.

Think of the wife and these two la.s.ses. You've no right to put their lives in danger, even if you think your property's in danger.'

'They're in no danger,' he answered brusquely, as he threw off the other's restraining arm.

Horatia, who did not know what fear was, and was rather enjoying the rate at which they were going, happened to glance at Mrs Clay, who was really fainting with fright. 'Oh, Mrs Clay's ill!' she cried in alarm.

'Stop--pray stop!'

Whether Mr Clay would have taken any notice of her or not is doubtful; but Tom Fox, who had reluctantly put on speed at his master's repeated commands, took advantage of this excuse to slow down a little, which was just as well; for, springing up out of nowhere, as they seem to reckless drivers to do, appeared a policeman, who commanded them to stop.

'Confound you, man! can't you see my place is burning?' Mr Clay roared out to him.

'What! Mr Mark Clay is it?' exclaimed the man in surprise, and in no friendly tone. 'You've no right to endanger the public in this way, whatever trouble you may be in.'

But Mr Howroyd interfered. 'And you've no right to stop us longer than to take the name when it's an urgent matter, Marmaduke,' he said.

The man touched his hat. 'Beg pardon, Mr Howroyd, I didn't know you were of this party. We reap as we sow in this world, and Mr Clay's fond enough of the law when it's on his side and against others.--Go on, Tom Fox; only mind, if there's an accident I'm witness that you were warned,' he said, as he moved back and let them pa.s.s.

'Shall we be fined?' asked Sarah of her uncle.

'I don't know. No; I shouldn't think so in a case like this, especially as we had luckily slowed down a bit,' he replied. But he did not seem to care much, which surprised Sarah, who knew that he did not care for motoring at all, and was always severe on wild driving.

'I think we shall. You can't go scorching along just because some trees have caught fire. People's lives are more important than a few hundred pounds. You don't seem to care about us at all,' she protested.

'Don't be so silly and childish, Sarah; and mind you go straight into the house and stay there,' he replied.

They were now near enough to see that some trees were burning; but as they were nowhere near the house, Sarah could not quite understand her uncle's 'fidgetiness,' as she called it.

'How on earth did that tree catch fire,' Horatia suddenly e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed as a tall poplar was seen blazing, 'and after such a wet day as yesterday?'

'I can tell you how it caught fire. It was set on fire by some of your friends of yesterday; that's how it's caught fire, and that's their way of saying "Thank you" to me for giving in to them; but they've taught me a lesson, and one I sha'n't forget, and I hope it'll satisfy you too, young lady,' replied Mark Clay grimly.

'I don't believe it. It would be too silly of them, to begin with; and, besides, why should they burn the trees? If they wanted to be wicked like that they'd burn the house,' declared Horatia.

'Ay, so they would have done before now if they'd had half a chance; but it's too well protected. Why, there's police in it day and night, and they know it!' he declared.

'All the same, I agree with Horatia, it does seem funny after yesterday,'

chimed in Sarah from the back-seat. 'And I can't think how those top branches caught.'

'No, because you don't know your home as well as you might,' said her father.

'What does he mean?' asked Sarah of her uncle.

'I suppose he means that the granaries are on fire, and that they've set the trees alight,' explained Mr Howroyd, whose face was very white and set, but with a different look of determination from his brother's.

They were in the park now.

'Turn off to the right, Tom,' said his master.

'Take the women-folk to the house first, Mark,' pleaded his brother.

'To the fire, Tom. I'll catch the rascals red-handed!' roared Mr Clay.

'Don't get out; go on in the car,' said Mr Howroyd to his niece in an undertone; but his advice fell on deaf ears.

Sarah was excited enough now, for they had turned a sharp corner at an angle, which made Mrs Clay give a sharp cry, and there in front of them were the blazing remains of two huge barns and some charred trunks of trees, while others were still burning.

In the roar and crackle of the flames and the crash of falling timber, the approach of the motor had not been heard by the excited and interested crowd who were watching the progress of the flames.

'Watching! Not one of them raising a hand to stop it!' muttered Mr Howroyd between his teeth.

Mrs Clay clasped her hands in despair.

The millionaire bounded from the car and was among them before any one saw him. 'You cowardly curs, that'll take my money and burn my property!

Off my land, I say! I'll pay you for this! You shall all be in prison before the week's out! I see you all, and know you too well, curse you!'

'We haven't done aught to your property. You can't say we have. We saw the flames in Ousebank oop o' top o' t' hill, and we ran to see. There's no harm in that, and you can't have the law on us for't,' said a big, burly man.

'You're trespa.s.sing on my land, every one of you, and I'll prosecute you for that, if I can't for aught else. There's plenty of boards to warn you,' said Mr Clay.

The crowd melted away as if by magic, and they saw the gardeners trying feebly to check the progress of the flames.

Their master stood and watched them in grim silence for a little time.

His presence and the disappearance of the crowd seemed to give them increased vigour, for they worked with a will now, and crash came down a tree which had just caught and would have carried on the flames to another plantation.

'That's right; rather late in the day. If you'd done that earlier it might ha' been better. And where's the rest of you? There's twenty men in the grounds somewhere, let alone the house; you could have had thirty at this, and worsted those scoundrels if you'd chosen; but you didn't, and I'll not forget it--I'll not forget it!'

'The others are guarding t' house, master' said the head-gardener. 'Sykes wouldn't let a man leave; he's there--armed, and swore he'd shoot the first hand that came nigh the house, let his business be what it might.'

A grim smile relaxed the millionaire's features for a moment as he heard this news; but they grew grim again as he asked bitterly, 'And weren't the garage and stable men enough to guard the house without the rest of you, whose business is to keep my ground in order?'

The man turned back to his work of chopping off smouldering branches, as he said in a surly tone, 'I'm here, sir, doing my best, and so's these lads, seven on 'em, and it's no use blaming them that has tried to help when your property is being destroyed for the fault of them that hasn't had the courage to do it.'