CHAPTER XIII.
Everycircumstance connected with the coming race meeting disgusted Bulstrode more and more. One night, sitting over the walnuts and the wine in the dining-room at Deerchase with Skelton and Lewis, Bulstrode gave vent to his dissatisfaction. He did not always dine with Skelton, and, indeed, when Bob Skinny’s emissary came to his door to say that dinner was served, Bulstrode would generally answer: “Oh, hang dinner! I had a chop in the middle of the day, and I’ll be shot if I’ll sit for two hours with Skelton over a lot of French kickshaws, with him looking superciliously at me every time I touch the decanter.� Bob Skinny would translate this message as follows: “Mr. Bulstrode, he present he compliments, sah, an’ he say, ef you will have de circumlocution to excuse him, he done had he dinner.�
Lewis, though, always dined with Skelton and enjoyed it. Skelton was at his best at dinner, and would sometimes exert himself to please the boy, whose tastes were singularly like his own. Lewis liked the exquisitely appointed table, the sight of the flowers upon it, the subtile air of luxury pervading the whole. He liked to lie back in his chair, makinghis one small glass of sherry last as long as he could, looking out upon the black clumps of the shrubbery that loomed large in the purple twilight, listening to the soft, melodious ripple of the broad river, and to Skelton’s musical voice as he talked. It always vexed him when Miles Lightfoot was of the party, who was, however, under a good deal of restraint in Skelton’s presence.
On this particular evening, though, Bulstrode was dining with Skelton and Lewis. The room was dim, for all the wax candles in the world could not light it brilliantly, and it was odorous with the scent of the blossoms of a dogwood tree that bloomed outside, and even thrust their bold, pretty faces almost through the window. But Bulstrode was undeniably cross, and uncomfortably attentive to the decanters.
“And how did Jaybird do to-day, Lewis?� asked Skelton; but before Lewis could answer, Bulstrode burst out:
“Jaybird go to perdition! Every time I think of him I remember that if the horse wins that race, Blair will be a ruined man. That is, he is more than half ruined already, but that will finish him.�
“I shall be sorry, but I can’t see how anybody but Blair can be held responsible,� answered Skelton calmly. “If a man who can’t afford itwillfollow horse racing, and if hewillput up a scrub against a thoroughbred, why, there’s no stopping him; that man has an inbred folly that must bring him to ruin some time or other. I don’t think this race, or any race especially, will effect the result. Blair has a passion for gambling on the turf, and that will ruin any man.�
Lewis listened to this with a troubled face. Skelton’s eyes saw it, and he felt angry with Bulstrode for putting such things into the boy’s head. And besides, Lewis was only fifteen, and suppose his feelings should be worked upon to the extent that he should be guilty of the enormity of “pulling� the race? Skelton hastened to change the conversation.
The dinner was shorter than usual that night, and Lewis had to gulp down the last half of his glass of wine rather hurriedly. Skelton went off as usual to a corner of the square stone porch and smoked steadily. To his surprise, Bulstrode followed him and sat down on a bench. After a while Bulstrode began, argumentatively:
“I don’t see why you want to drive Blair to the wall.�
Skelton took his cigar from his lips, and was silent with astonishment. Bulstrode never presumed to force himself into Skelton’s private affairs that way.
“And,� continued Bulstrode, with his rich, beautiful voice full of tears, “he has that sweet and charming wife. Good God! Skelton, you must have a heart of stone!�
Skelton’s impulse was to pick up a chair and brain Bulstrode on the spot, but instead, he only said coldly:
“You have been drinking, Bulstrode. You can’t let a decanter pass you.�
“Yes, I’ve been drinking,� cried Bulstrode, with a frank laugh; “but you know yourself I’m a much better and braver man drunk than sober. When I’m sober I’m cowed by that devilish cool gentlemanliness of yours; but when I’ve had a bottle of portI’m as good a man as you, Skelton; and I see that you will never be happy until you have made Blair the wretchedest man alive. Come, now. You’ve got lashings of money. Blair is as poor as a church mouse. You have got everything on earth.�
Skelton had risen during this, and could scarcely keep his hands off Bulstrode where he sat; but it was grotesque enough that he could not make Bulstrode hold his tongue. He could only say between his teeth:
“Drunken dog!�
Bulstrode rose too at that, with a kind of dogged courage. “I am a drunken dog, I am!� he said; “but I am Wat Bulstrode, too; don’t forget that. Don’t forget that I know a great deal more out of books than you do. Don’t forget that you could hardly get another man who could fill my place. Don’t forget that I am more to you than all those thousands of volumes you’ve got in yonder. Don’t forget that I am Lewis Pryor’s guardian until he is one and twenty. You may regret that fact, but you can’t alter it. And, more than all—let me tell you—Iknow all the very curious provisions of your wife’s will. You never condescended to ask me to keep silence, and I made you no promise. Drunken dog, indeed! And I could tell that which would turn this county bottom upwards! Suppose I were to tell Mrs. Blair to make herself easy; that those fools of lawyers made it so that one day, whether you die or marry, everything that was your wife’s goes to your heirs—and she is your heir, because you’ve got no other relations. And Lewis Pryor—ah, Skelton, how many clever men overreach themselves! I know, too,that so bunglingly did these legal fools their work, that if you could prove that you had a son at the time of your wife’s death, he would get the fortune. That fate was so desperately at work against common sense, that they forgot to put in whether he should be entitled to your name or not. But so cleverly have you made it appear that Lewis Pryor is the son of that lanky, sandy-haired tutor, that maybe you would have a hard time unravelling your own web. And so you think me a drunken dog, hey? All this I tell you is as clear as a bell in my—drunken mind, as you would call it.�
Skelton’s face had turned blue with rage while Bulstrode was speaking; but there was no way to make him stop, except pounding him with the chair. And then, Skelton wanted to find out how much Bulstrode really knew. Yes, he knew it all. Well might Skelton hate Blair and pursue his ruin. Either the Blairs must happen, by the most fortuitous accident, to fall into a great fortune at his death, or else the stigma that he had so carefully removed, as far as the world knew, from Lewis must be published in two countries. Fury and dismay kept him silent, but Bulstrode actually quailed under his eye when once Skelton had fixed it on him. Skelton spoke after a little pause:
“Your knowledge is entirely correct; and more, you are at liberty to proclaim it to the world any day you feel like it. The extraordinary part of it is that some wretch, as loose of tongue as you, has not by this time done so. It is a wonder that some creature, inspired by gratuitous ill-will towards that innocent boy, has not already published his shame. But theworld, that is so forgiving and gentle to me, is already arrayed against him. The people in this county, for example, who seek the society of the owner of Deerchase, have condemned the innocent boy merely upon suspicion. It was so before I brought him here. No man or woman looked askant at me, but they puthimbeyond the pale. Bah! what a world it is!�
Bulstrode’s courage and swagger had abated all the time Skelton had been speaking. It never could stand up against Skelton’s coolness and determination. But some impulse of tenderness towards Lewis made him say:
“You need not fear for one moment that I would harm the boy. I too love him. Unlike the world, I hold him to be innocent and you to be guilty.�
“Pshaw!� answered Skelton contemptuously, “you will not do him any harm until your heedless tongue begins to wag, when, in pure idleness and wantonness, you will tell all you know. However, the fact that you are about the only person in the world who takes a true view of the case, saves me from kicking you out of doors. You must see for yourself I love that boy with the strongest, strangest affection. It has been my punishment, to suffer acutely at all the contumely heaped upon him; to yearn for the only thing I can’t give him—an equality with his kind; to feel like the cut of a knife every slight, every covert indignity put upon him. I tell you, had Blair and his wife done the simplest kind thing for that boy, I believe it would have disarmed me. But, no; they have flouted him studiously. Blair has never heard Lewis’s namementioned before me without a look that made me want to have him by the throat; and in return, he shall be a beggar.� Skelton said this with perfect coolness, but it made a cold chill run down Bulstrode’s backbone. “The least kindness, the smallest gentleness, shown that boy is eternally remembered by me, and I have too little, too little to remember. And shall I overlook the insolence of the Blairs towards him? Ah, no. That is not like me. The strongest hold you have over me, Bulstrode, is because I know you love that boy, and it would distress him to part with you. But I think I have had as much of your company as I care for just now, so go.�
Bulstrode went immediately.
Skelton sat on the porch, or walked about it, far into the night, until his rage had cooled off. He had been subject to those tempests of still and almost silent passion all his life, and a fit of it invariably left him profoundly sad. The injustice to Lewis was inexpressibly hard to bear. He had all his life enjoyed so much power, prestige, and distinction, that the slightest contradiction was infinitely galling to him. One thing he had fully determined: the Blairs should not get that money. Rather would he proclaim Lewis’s birth to the world. But with a thrill of pride, as well as pain, he realised that it would cruelly distress the boy. Skelton knew Lewis’s disposition perfectly, and he knew the pride, the delicacy, the self-respect, that were already visible and would grow with the boy’s growth. He felt convinced that Lewis would never willingly barter what he supposed to be his respectable parentage for allthe money in the world. And what would be the boy’s feelings towardshim? Would not Lewis bear him a life-long hatred? And that suggestion which Bulstrode had thrown out about the difficulty of unravelling the story of Lewis’s birth, which Skelton had constructed with so much ingenuity, yes—it must be done in his lifetime; he would not trust anything to chance. The game was up, as far as the Blairs were concerned. And then he might, if he chose, marry Sylvia Shapleigh. She would perhaps awake his tired heart, for he had gone through with some experiences that had left weariness and cynical disgust behind them. But that the Blairs should ever have what might be Lewis’s, that they should profit by those fools of lawyers in England—Skelton almost swore aloud at the bare idea.
He revolved these things in his mind as he sat perfectly still in the corner of the porch after his restlessness had departed.
The moon rose late, but the round silver disc had grown bright before he stirred. He waked Bob Skinny, sleeping soundly on the back porch, to shut up the house, and went upstairs to his own rooms. As he passed through the upper hall he saw, to his surprise, Lewis Pryor sitting in the deep window seat, upon which the moonlight streamed.
“You here?� asked Skelton, surprised, yet in his usual kindly voice.
“Yes,� answered Lewis, perfectly wide awake, and looking somberly at Skelton in the ghostly light. “I couldn’t sleep for thinking of Mrs. Blair. I must win that race, and yet, if I do she will be unhappy, and that makes me unhappy. Iwish we had never thought about the race, Mr. Skelton.�
“Perhaps so,� said Skelton lightly; “but remember, when you are riding a race you are representing a great many persons. If you win the race, Mr. Blair will have lost some money; and if Hilary Blair wins, a great many persons who have backed you will lose money. It is the most dishonourable thing on earth to willfully lose a race.�
Lewis sighed, and understood very well.
“Come,� said Skelton good-naturedly, “it is time for youngsters like you to be in bed. It is nearly one o’clock.�
Lewis crept off quite dolefully to his bed, while Skelton, sad at heart, remained standing before the open window, gazing at the glittering moon that silvered the lovely, peaceful, and tender landscape.