‘Ay, sir, a sick lad it was. The moossoo said he was suffering from a fever. He carried him on board like one dead, all muffled up in a great cloak. I said to Jim here, “Jim,” I said, “it’s a shame to take the boy on board, ill as he is, that it is.”’
‘Drugged, by Gad!’ exclaimed Rupert. ‘I’ll have his blood for this! Taken her to France, has he! Now, what in thunder does he want with her? Hi, you! When does the next packet sail for Le Havre?’
‘Why, sir, there’s no boat for the likes of you till Wednesday,’ said the harbour-master. Rupert’s ruffles might be torn, and his coat muddied, but the harbour-master knew a gentleman when he saw one.
Rupert glanced ruefully down his person.
‘The likes of me, eh? Well, well!’ He pointed with his whip to a ramshackle vessel laden with bales of cloth. ‘Where is she bound for?’
‘For Le Havre, sir, but ’tis only a trading ship, as your honour sees.’
‘When does she sail?’
‘To-night, sir. She’s lain here two days too long already, waiting for the wind to turn, but she’ll be away with the tide soon after six.’
‘That’s the ship for me,’ said Rupert briskly. ‘Where’s her master?’
The harbour-master was perturbed.
‘’Tis but a dirty old boat, sir, and never a –’
‘Dirty? So am I dirty, damn it!’ said Rupert. ‘Go find me the master, and tell him I want a passage to France this night.’
So off went the harbour-master, to return anon with a burly individual in homespun, with a great black beard. This gentleman eyed Rupert stolidly, and, removing the long clay pipe from his mouth, rumbled forth two words.
‘Twenty guineas.’
‘What’s that?’ said Rupert. ‘Not a farthing more than ten, you rogue!’
The bearded gentleman spat deliberately into the sea, but vouchsafed no word. A dangerous light came into Rupert’s eyes. He tapped the man on the shoulder with his riding-whip.
‘Fellow, I am Lord Rupert Alastair. You shall have ten guineas off me and for the rest I’ll see you damned.’
The harbour-master pricked up his ears.
‘I was hearing, my lord, that his Grace has the Silver Queen anchored in Southampton Water.’
‘The devil fly away with Justin!’ exclaimed Rupert wrathfully. ‘He was always wont to have her here!’
‘Maybe, sir, if you was to ride to Southampton –’
‘Ride to hell! I’d find them painting her, like as not. Come now, fellow, ten guineas!’
The harbour-master took his colleague aside and whispered urgently. Presently he turned, and addressed Rupert.
‘I am saying, my lord, as how fifteen guineas is a fair price.’
‘Fifteen guineas it is!’ said Rupert promptly, thinking of the two crowns in his pocket. ‘I shall have to sell the horse.’
‘Six o’clock we sets sail, and don’t wait for nobbut,’ growled the captain, and walked off.
Rupert rode into the town, and by good fortune was able to sell Mr Manvers’ roan for the sum of twenty guineas. The sale being accomplished he went to the inn on the quayside, and refreshed himself with a wash, and a bowl of punch. Thus fortified he boarded the sailing vessel, and sat him down on a coil of rope, thoroughly enjoying the adventure, and not a little amused.
‘’Fore Gad, I never was in such a mad chase!’ he remarked to the sky. ‘Here’s Léonie spirited off by Saint-Vire, the Lord knows why, or where, for that matter – and myself hot on the scent with five crowns in my pocket, and the landlord’s hat on my head. And what am I going to do when I find the chit?’ He pondered deeply. ‘It’s a plaguey queer business, so it is,’ he decided. ‘Justin’s at the back of it, I’ll be bound. And where the devil is Justin?’ Suddenly he flung back his head and laughed. ‘Damme, I’d give something to see old cousin Harriet’s face when she finds me gone off with Léonie! Hey, hey, here’s a pretty coil, to be sure, for, faith, I don’t know where I am, and I don’t know where Léonie is, nor she where I am, and at Avon they don’t where any of us are!’
Eighteen
The Indignation of Mr Manvers