Johnny Ludlow Third Series Part 96

"Can't you come yourself, madame?" asked Sam, politely. "If Aunt Jenkins is asleep, and means to keep asleep till bed-time, she can't want you."

"I could not think of leaving her," objected madame. "She looks for me the moment she wakes."

So Sam, I say, brought back the message. Putting himself into his evening-coat, he came into the room while tea was going on, and delivered madame's excuses to Janet as distinctly as the rattle of cups and saucers allowed. You should have seen Cattledon that evening:--in a grey silk gown that stood on end, a gold necklace, and dancing shoes.

"This is the second soiree this week that Lady Jenkins has failed to appear at," spoke Mrs. Knox--not Janet--in a resentful tone. "My firm opinion is that Madame St. Vincent keeps her away."

"Keeps her away," cried Arnold. "Why should she do that?"

"Well, yes; gives way to her fads and fancies about being ill, instead of rousing her out of them. As to _why_ she does it," continued Mrs.

Knox, "I suppose she is beginning to grow nervous about her. As if an innocent, quiet soiree could hurt Lady Jenkins!"

"Johnny," whispered Sam, subsiding into the background after delivering his message, "may I never stir again if I didn't see Collinson hiding in aunt's garden!"

"_Hiding_ in your aunt's garden!" I exclaimed. "What was he doing that for?"

"Goodness knows. Did you ever notice a big bay-tree that you pa.s.s on the left, between the door and the gate? Well, he was standing behind it. I came out of the house at a double quick pace, knowing I should be late for the soiree, cleared the steps at a leap, and the path to the gate at another. Too quick, I suppose, for Collinson. He was bending forward to look at the parlour windows, and drew back as I pa.s.sed."

"Did you speak, Sam?"

"No, I came flying on, taking no notice. I dare say he thinks I did not see him. One does not like, you know, to speak to a man who evidently wants to avoid you. But now--I wonder what he was doing there?"

continued Sam, reflectively. "Watching Madame St. Vincent, I should say, through the lace curtains."

"But for what purpose?"

"I can't even imagine. There he was."

To my mind this sounded curious. But that Mina Knox was before my eyes--just at the moment listening to the whispers of Dan Jenkins--I should have thought the captain was looking after her. Or, rather, _not_ listening to Dan. Mina had a pained, restless look on her face, not in the least natural to it, and kept her head turned away. And the more Dan whispered, the more she turned it from him.

"Here he is, Sam."

Sam looked round at my words, and saw Captain Collinson, then coming in.

He was got up to perfection as usual, and wore a white rose in his b.u.t.ton-hole. His purple-black hair, beard, whiskers and moustache were grand; his voice had its ordinary fas.h.i.+onable drawl. I saw Tod--at the opposite side of the room--cease talking with old Tamlyn, to fix his keen eyes on the captain.

"Very sorry to be so late," apologized the captain, bowing over Janet's hand. "Been detained at home writing letters for India. Overland mail goes out to-morrow night."

Sam gave me a knock with his elbow. "What a confounded story!" he whispered. "Wonder what the gallant captain means, Johnny! Wonder what game he is up to?"

It was, I dare say, nearly an hour after this that I came across Tod. He was standing against the wall, laughing slightly to himself, evidently in some glee. Captain Collinson was at the piano opposite, his back to us, turning over the leaves for Caroline Parker, who was singing.

"What are you amused at, Tod?"

"At you, lad. Thinking what a m.u.f.f you are."

"I always am a m.u.f.f, I know. But why am I one just now in particular?"

"For not knowing that man," nodding towards Collinson. "I thought I recognized him as he came in; felt sure of him when I heard him speak.

Men may disguise their faces almost at will; but not their voices, Johnny."

"Why, who is he?" I asked in surprise.

"I'll tell you when we are alone. I should have known him had we met amid the Hottentots. I thought he was over in Australia; knew he went there."

"But--is he not Captain Collinson?"

Tod laughed. "Just as much as I am, Johnny. Of course he may have a.s.sumed the name of Collinson in place of his own: if so, n.o.body has a right, I take it, to say him nay. But, as to his being a captain in the Bengal Cavalry--well, I don't think he is."

"And you say I know him!"

"I say you ought to--but for being a m.u.f.f. I suppose it is the hair he is adorned with that has thrown you off the scent."

"But, where have I seen him, Tod? Who----"

"Hush, lad. We may be overheard."

As a general rule, all the guests at these soirees left together. They did so to-night. The last to file out at the door were the Hamps.h.i.+res, with Mrs. Knox, her daughter, and Miss Mack--for Janet had made a point of inviting poor hard-worked, put-upon Macky. Both families lived in the London Road, and would go home in company. Dan had meant to escort Mina, but she pointedly told him he was not wanted, and took the offered arm of Captain Collinson. Upon which, Dan turned back in a huff. Sam laughed at that, and ran after them himself.

How long a time had elapsed afterwards, I hardly know. Perhaps half-an-hour; perhaps not so much. We had not parted for the night: in fact, Mr. Tamlyn and Tod were still over the game at chess they had begun since supper; which game seemed in no mood to be finished. I watched it: Dr. Knox and Miss Cattledon stood talking over the fire; while Janet, ever an active housekeeper, was in the supper-room, helping the maids to clear the table. In the midst of this, Charlotte Knox came back, rus.h.i.+ng into the room in a state of intense excitement, with the news that Mina and Captain Collinson were eloping together.

The account she gave was this--though just at first nothing clear could be made out of her. Upon starting, the Hamps.h.i.+res, Mrs. Knox, and Miss Mack went on in front; Captain Collinson and Mina walked next, and Charlotte fell behind with Sam. Fell very much behind, as it appeared; for when people are talking of what interests them, their steps are apt to linger; and Sam was telling her of having seen Captain Collinson behind the bay-tree. It was a beautiful night, warm and pleasant.

Charlotte and Sam let the captain and Mina get pretty nearly the length of a street before them; and _they_, in their turn, were as much behind the party in advance. Suddenly Sam exclaimed that the captain was taking the wrong way. His good eyes had discerned that, instead of keeping straight on, which was the proper (and only) route to the London Road, he and Mina had turned down the lane leading to the railway-station.

"Halloa!" he exclaimed to Charlotte, "what's that for?" "They must be dreaming," was Charlotte's laughing reply: "or, perhaps the captain wants to take an excursion by a night-train!" Whether anything in the last remark, spoken in jest, struck particularly on the mind of Sam, Charlotte did not know: away he started as if he had been shot, Charlotte running after him in curiosity. Arrived at the lane, Sam saw the other two flying along, just as if they wanted to catch a train and had not a minute to do it in. Onward went Sam's long legs in pursuit; but the captain's legs were long also, and he was pulling Mina with him: altogether Sam did not gain much upon them. The half-past eleven o'clock train was then gliding into the station, where it was timed to halt two minutes. The captain and Mina dashed on to the platform, and, when Sam got up, he was putting her into the nearest carriage. Such was Charlotte's statement: and her eyes looked wild, and her breath was laboured as she made it.

"Have they _gone_?--gone on by the train?" questioned Dr. Knox, who seemed unnaturally calm.

"Goodness, no!" panted the excited Charlotte. "Sam managed to get his arm round Mina's waist, and the captain could not pull her away from him. It was a regular struggle on the platform, Arnold. I appealed to the station-master, who stood by. I told him it was my sister, and that she was being kidnapped against her will; Sam also appealed to him. So he gave the signal when the time was up, and let the train go on."

"Not against her will, I fear," spoke Arnold Knox from between his condemning lips. "Where are they now, Lotty?"

"On the platform, quarrelling; and still struggling which shall keep possession of Mina. I came running here to fetch you, Arnold, and I believe I shall never get my breath again."

With one accord we all, Cattledon excepted, set off to the station; even old Tamlyn proved he had some go in his legs yet. Tod reached it first: few young men could come up to him at running.

Sam Jenkins had exchanged his hold of Mina for a hold on Captain Collinson. The two were struggling together; but Sam's grasp was firm, and he held him as in a vice. "No, no," he was saying, "you don't escape me, captain, until some one comes here to take charge of Mina." As to Mina, little simpleton, she cowered in the shade of the corner, s.h.i.+vering and crying. The station-master and the two night-porters stood about, gaping and staring.

Tod put his hand on the captain's shoulder; his other hand momentarily holding back Dr. Knox. "Since when have you been Captain Collinson," he quietly asked.

The captain turned his angry eyes upon him. "What is that to you?" he retorted. "I am Captain Collinson; that is enough for you."

"Enough for me, and welcome. Not enough, as I judge, for this gentleman here," indicating the doctor. "When I knew you your name was not Collinson."

"How dare you insult me?" hissed the captain. "My name not Collinson!"

"Not at all!" was Tod's equable answer. "It used to be FABIAN PELL."

II.