The Amateur Gentleman Part 93

"Who is Nick?"

"Nick's a cobbler, sir,--boots and shoes,--ladies' and gents', and a very good cobbler 'e is too, although a cripple wiv a game leg. Me and 'im's pals, sir, and though we 'as our little turn-ups 'count of 'im coming it so strong agin the Quality, I'm never very 'ard on 'im 'count of 'is crutch, d'ye see, sir."

"What do you mean by the 'Quality,' Imp?"

"Gentle-folks, sir,--rich folks like you an' m'lud. 'I'd gillertine the lot, if I'd my way,' he says, 'like the Frenchies did in Ninety-three,' 'e says. But 'e wouldn't reelly o'course, for Nick's very tender-hearted, though 'e don't like it known. So we 're pals, we are, and I often drop in to smoke a pipe wiv 'im--"

"What! Do you smoke, Imp?"

"Why, yes, o' course, sir,--all grooms smokes or chews, but I prefers a pipe--allus 'ave, ah! ever since I were a kid. But I mostly only 'as a pipe when I drop in on my pal Nick in Giles's Rents."

"Down by the River?" inquired Barnabas.

"Yessir. And now, shall I horder the post-boy to stop?"

"What for?"

"Well, the stables is near by, sir, and I thought as you might like to take a glimp at the 'osses,--just to make your mind easy, sir."

"Oh, very well!" said Barnabas, for there was something in the boy's small, eager face that he could not resist.

Therefore, having paid and dismissed the chaise, they turned into a certain narrow by-street. It was very dark as yet, although in the east was a faint, gray streak, and the air struck so chill, after the warmth of the chaise, that Barnabas s.h.i.+vered violently, and, happening to glance down, he saw that the boy was s.h.i.+vering also. On they went, side by side, between houses of gloom and silence, and thus, in a while, came to another narrow street, or rather, blind alley, at the foot of which were the stables.

"Hush, sir!" said the Imp, staring away to where the stable buildings loomed up before them, shadowy and indistinct in the dawn.

"Hush, sir!" he repeated, and Barnabas saw that he was creeping forward on tip-toe, and, though scarce knowing why, he himself did the same.

They found the great swing doors fast, bolted from within, and, in this still dead hour, save for their own soft breathing, not a sound reached them. Then Barnabas laughed suddenly, and clapped Master Milo upon his small, rigid shoulder.

"There, Imp,--you see it's all right!" said he, and then paused, and held his breath.

"Did ye hear anythink?" whispered the boy.

"A chain--rattled, I think."

"And 't was in The Terror's' stall,--there? didn't ye hear somethink else, sir?"

"No!"

"I did,--it sounded like--" the boy's voice tailed off suddenly and, upon the silence, a low whistle sounded; then a thud, as of some one dropping from a height, quickly followed by another,--and thus two figures darted away, impalpable as ghosts in the dawn, but the alley was filled with the rush and patter of their flight. Instantly Barnabas turned in pursuit, then stopped and stood utterly still, his head turned, his eyes wide, glaring back towards the gloom of the stables. For, in that moment, above the sudden harsh jangling of chains from within, above the pattering footsteps of the fugitives without, was an appalling sound rising high and ever higher--shrill, unearthly, and full of horror and torment unspeakable. And now, sudden as it had come, it was gone, but in its place was another sound,--a sound dull and m.u.f.fled, but continuous, and pierced, all at once, by the loud, hideous whinnying of a horse. Then Barnabas sprang back to the doors, beating upon them with his fists and calling wildly for some one to open.

And, in a while, a key grated, a bolt shrieked; the doors swung back, revealing Martin, half-dressed and with a lantern in his hand, while three or four undergrooms hovered, pale-faced, in the shadows behind.

"My horse!" said Barnabas, and s.n.a.t.c.hed the lantern.

"'The Terror'!" cried Milo, "this way, sir!"

Coming to a certain shadowy corner, Barnabas unfastened and threw open the half-door; and there, rising from the gloom of the stall, was a fiendish, black head with ears laid back, eyes rolling, and teeth laid bare,--cruel teeth, whose gleaming white was hatefully splotched,--strong teeth, in whose vicious grip something yet dangled.

"Why--what's he got there!" cried Martin suddenly, and then-- "Oh, my G.o.d! sir,--look yonder!" and, covering his eyes, he pointed towards a corner of the stall where the light of the lantern fell.

And--twisted and contorted,--something lay there; something hideously battered, and torn, and trampled; something that now lay so very quiet and still, but which had left dark splashes and stains on walls and flooring; something that yet clutched the knife which was to have hamstrung and ended the career of Four-legs once and for all; something that had once been a man.

CHAPTER XLIX

WHICH, BEING SOMEWHAT IMPORTANT, IS CONSEQUENTLY SHORT

"My dear fellow," said the Viscount, stifling a yawn beneath the bedclothes, "you rise with the lark,--or should it be linnet? Anyhow, you do, you know. So deuced early!"

"I am here early because I haven't been to bed, d.i.c.k."

"Ah, night mail? Dev'lish uncomfortable! Didn't think you'd come back in such a deuce of a hurry, though!"

"But you wanted to see me, d.i.c.k, what is it?"

"Why,--egad, Bev, I'm afraid it's nothing much, after all.

It's that fellow Smivvle's fault, really."

"Smivvle?"

"Fellow actually called here yesterday--twice, Bev. Dev'lish importunate fellow y'know. Wanted to see you,--deuced insistent about it, too!"

"Why?"

"Well, from what I could make out, he seemed to think--sounds ridiculous so early in the morning,--but he seemed to fancy you were in some kind of--danger, Bev."

"How, d.i.c.k?"

"Well, when I told him he couldn't see you because you had driven over to Hawkhurst, the fellow positively couldn't sit still--deuced nervous, y'know,--though probably owing to drink. 'Hawkhurst!' says he, staring at me as if I were a ghost, my dear fellow, 'yes,' says I, 'and the door's open, sir!' 'I see it is,' says he, sitting tight.

'But you must get him back!' 'Can't be done!' says I. 'Are you his friend?' says he. 'I hope so,' says I. 'Then,' says he, before I could remind him of the door again, 'then you must get him back-- at once!' I asked him why, but he only stared and shook his head, and so took himself off. I'll own the fellow shook me rather, Bev, --he seemed so very much in earnest, but, knowing where you were, I wouldn't have disturbed you for the world if it hadn't been for the horses."

"Ah, yes--the horses!" said Barnabas thoughtfully. "How is your arm now, d.i.c.k?"

"A bit stiff, but otherwise right as a trivet, Bev. But now--about yourself, my dear fellow,--what on earth possessed you to lay Carnaby such a bet? What a perfectly reckless fellow you are! Of course the money is as good as in Carnaby's pocket already, not to mention Chichester's--d.a.m.n him! As I told you in my letter, the affair has gone the round of the clubs,--every one is laughing at the 'Galloping Countryman,' as they call you. Jerningham came within an ace of fighting Tufton Green of the Guards about it, but the Marquis is deuced knowing with the barkers, and Tufton, very wisely, thought better of it. Still, I'm afraid the name will stick--!"

"And why not, d.i.c.k? I am a countryman, indeed quite a yokel in many ways, and I shall certainly gallop--when it comes to it."

"Which brings us back to the horses, Bev. I 've been thinking we ought to get 'em away--into the country--some quiet place like--say, the--the 'Spotted Cow,' Bev."

"Yes, the 'Spotted Cow' should do very well; especially as Clemency--"

"Talking about the horses, Bev," said the Viscount, sitting up in bed and speaking rather hurriedly, "I protest, since the rascally attempt on 'Moonraker' last night, I've been on pins and needles, positively,--nerve quite gone, y'know, Bev. If 'Moonraker' didn't happen to be a horse, he'd be a mare,--of course he would,--but I mean a nightmare. I've thought of him all day and dreamed of him all night, oh, most cursed, y'know! Just ring for my fellow, will you, Bev?--I'll get up, and we'll go round to the stables together."

"Quite unnecessary, d.i.c.k."

"Eh? Why?"