'Is your name Soane?' Mr. Smith asked with blunt-ness; he grew more suspicious as the other's embarrassment increased.
'No,' Mr. Fishwick admitted reluctantly. 'But this young lady's name--'
'Is Soane?'
'Yes.'
Mr. Thomasson stepped forward, grim as fate. 'That is not true,' he said coldly. 'I am a Fellow of Pembroke College, Oxford, at present in attendance on her ladyship; and I identify this person'--he pointed to the girl--'as the daughter of a late servant of the College, and this woman as her mother. I have no doubt that the last thing they expected to find in this place was one who knew them.'
The landlord nodded. 'Joe,' he said, turning to a servant, 'fetch the constable. You will find him at the Falcon.'
'That is talking!' cried my lady, clapping her hands gleefully. 'That is talking!' And then addressing the girl, 'Now, madam,' she said, 'I'll have your pride pulled down! If I don't have you in the stocks for this, tease my back!'
There was a snigger at that, in the background, by the door; and a crush to get in and see how the rogues took their exposure; for my lady's shrill voice could be heard in the hall, and half the inn was running to listen. Mrs. Masterson, who had collapsed at the mention of the constable, and could now do nothing but moan and weep, and the attorney, who spluttered vain threats in a voice quavering between fear and passion evoked little sympathy. But the girl, who through all remained silent, white, and defiant, who faced all, the fingers of one hand drumming on the table before her, and her fine eyes brooding scornfully on the crowd, drew from more than one the compliment of a quicker breath and a choking throat. She was the handsomest piece they had seen, they muttered, for many a day--as alien, from the other two as light from darkness; and it is not in man's nature to see beauty humiliated, and feel no unpleasant emotion. If there was to be a scene, and she did not go quietly--in that case more than one in the front rank, who read the pride in her eyes, wished he were elsewhere.
Suddenly the crowd about the door heaved. It opened slowly, and a voice, airy and indifferent, was heard remarking, 'Ah! These are the people, are they? Poor devils! 'Then a pause; and then, in a tone of unmistakable surprise, 'Hallo!' the newcomer cried as he emerged and stared at the scene before him. 'What is this?'
The attorney almost fell on his knees. 'Sir George!' he screamed. 'My dear Sir George! Honoured sir, believe me I am innocent of any ill-meaning.'
'Tut-tut!' said Sir George, who might have just stepped out of his dressing-closet instead of his carriage, so perfect was his array, from the ruffles that fell gracefully over his wrists to the cravat that supported his chin. 'Tut-tut! Lord, man, what is the meaning of this?'
'We are going to see,' the landlord answered drily, forestalling the lawyer's reply. 'I have sent for the constable, Sir George.'
'But, Sir George, you'll speak for us?' Mr. Fishwick cried piteously, cutting the other short in his turn. 'You will speak for us? You know me. You know that I am a respectable man. Oh, dear me, if this were told in Wallingford!' he continued; 'and I have a mother aged seventy! It is a mistake--a pure mistake, as I am prepared to prove. I appeal to you, sir. Both I and my friends--'
He was stopped on that word; and very strangely. The girl turned on him, her cheeks scarlet. 'For shame!' she cried with indignation that seemed to her hearers inexplicable. 'Be silent, will you?'
Sir George stared with the others. 'Oh!' said Lady Dunborough, 'so you have found your voice, have you, miss--now that there is a gentleman here?'
'But--what is it all about?' Sir George asked.
'They took your rooms, sir,' the landlord explained respectfully.
'Pooh! is that all?' Soane answered contemptuously. What moved him he could not tell; but in his mind he had chosen his side. He did not like Lady Dunborough.
'But they are not,' the landlord objected, 'they are not the persons they say they are, Sir George.'
'Chut!' said Soane carelessly. 'I know this person, at any rate. He is respectable enough. I don't understand it at all. Oh, is that you, Thomasson?'
Mr. Thomasson had fallen back a pace on Sir George's entrance; but being recognised he came forward. 'I think that you will acknowledge, my dear sir,' he said persuasively--and his tone was very different from that which he had taken ten minutes earlier--'that at any rate--they are not proper persons to sit down with her ladyship.'
'But why should they sit down with her?' said Sir George the fashionable, slightly raising his eyebrows.
'Hem--Sir George, this is Lady Dunborough,' replied Mr. Thomasson, not a little embarrassed.
Soane's eyes twinkled as he returned the viscountess's glance. But he bowed profoundly, and with a sweep of his hat that made the rustics stare. 'Your ladyship's most humble servant,' he said. 'Allow me to hope that Mr. Dunborough is perfectly recovered. Believe me, I greatly regretted his mischance.'
But Lady Dunborough was not so foolish as to receive his overtures according to the letter. She saw plainly that he had chosen his side--the impertinent fop, with his airs and graces!--and she was not to be propitiated. 'Pray leave my son's name apart,' she answered, tossing her head contemptuously. 'After what has happened, sir, I prefer not to discuss him with you.'
Sir George raised his eyebrows, and bowed as profoundly as before. 'That is entirely as your ladyship pleases,' he said. Nevertheless he was not accustomed to be snubbed, and he set a trifle to her account.
'But for that creature,' she continued, trembling with passion, 'I will not sleep under the same roof with her.'
Sir George simpered. 'I am sorry for that,' he said. 'For I am afraid that the Falcon in the town is not the stamp of house to suit your ladyship.'
The viscountess gasped. 'I should like to know why you champion her,' she cried violently. 'I suppose you came here to meet her.'
'Alas, madam, I am not so happy,' he answered--with such blandness that a servant by the door choked, and had to be hustled out in disgrace. 'But since Miss--er--Masterson is here, I shall be glad to place my rooms at her--mother's disposal.'
'There are no rooms,' said the landlord. Between the two he was growing bewildered.
'There are mine,' said Sir George drily.
'But for yourself, Sir George?'
'Oh, never mind me, my good man. I am here to meet Lord Chatham, and some of his people will accommodate me.'
'Well, of course,' Mr. Smith answered, rubbing his hands dubiously--for he had sent for the constable--'of course, Sir George--if you wish it. I did not understand for whom the rooms were ordered, or--or this unpleasantness would not have arisen.'
'To be sure,' Sir George drawled good-naturedly. 'Give the constable half-a-crown, Smith, and charge it to me.' And he turned on his heel.
But at this appearance of a happy issue, Lady Dunborough's rage and chagrin, which had been rising higher and higher with each word of the dialogue, could no longer be restrained. In an awful voice, and with a port of such majesty that an ordinary man must have shaken in his shoes before her towering headdress, 'Am I to understand,' she cried, 'that, after all that has been said about these persons, you propose to harbour them?'
The landlord looked particularly miserable; luckily he was saved from the necessity of replying by an unexpected