The Runaways: A New and Original Story

She came into the kitchen and said, "You may come in now, Mr. Hazelwell – the coast is clear."

Ulick was glad to escape from Mrs. Hoffman, and when she was left alone that good lady commenced to sum up the situation to her own satisfaction.

"They are rivals, that's what it is," she said; "and this one is worth half-a-dozen Mr. Warrens. There's no telling what men will do where a pretty face is concerned. I know what it is myself, and to think I should have thrown myself away on such a fellow as Hoffman when I might have had anybody in those days. Mrs. Warren's in my charge, and she must be careful; but I like a little bit of romancing, and it strikes me I'm likely to get it in this situation."

Ulick had a serious talk with Janet.

"Is it because Warren Courtly is the man who took you away from home that you decline to return to your father's house?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I think you are right, now I know the facts. It will be better for me not to mention having seen you; it will only make Eli uneasy and anxious to know more."

She agreed with him, and promised to write to him if necessary.

"Were you quarrelling?" he added.

"We had some words, as usual, about money matters."

"He makes you an allowance still?"

"Yes, I could not live here without, and he has a right to do it," she replied.

"Mrs. Hoffman says he seldom comes here?"

"That is true."

"I am glad," said Ulick.

"So am I. When he married Miss Carstone I made up my mind to see as little of him as possible. He promised to marry me when I ran off with him," said Janet.

"He deceived you, and deserves to suffer for it, but his wife must not be dragged into it," he said.

"She will never learn anything from me," Janet answered, earnestly.

Ulick went back to London thinking over the varied chances of the day, and wondering at the strange discovery he had made.

So it was Warren Courtly who had robbed Eli of his daughter, and allowed the blame to rest on him. He would let Warren see that he knew the truth, that much satisfaction he meant having, but Irene must be shielded no matter what happened. How different events might have turned out had he stuck to his guns and won Irene, in spite of Warren Courtly, and the suspicions surrounding himself. Had he done so, no doubt the truth would have come to light in a very short time; as it was, he must trust to his luck to clear the way for him.

CHAPTER XII

TWO SCHEMERS

The Squire noticed an estrangement had taken place between Irene and her husband. She was too proud to allow her real feelings to appear on the surface, but he saw below it and knew there was discord somewhere.

Redmond Maynard, since his son's departure, had led a lonely life. Everyone in the county sympathised deeply with him, but he was not a man to be soothed with kindly words; on the contrary, they irritated him. He went about his daily avocations as usual, but it was evident he had lost much of the interest in his surroundings. Dr. Harding ordered a change, but the Squire protested he was in a perfect state of health, and that there was no occasion for him to leave Hazelwell. The doctor was an old and valued friend, in addition to being his medical attendant. He practised in various parts of the county, his connection being select and extensive. Dr. Harding's was a familiar figure in the hunting field, and when he could spare the time he was nothing loth to attend a race meeting. He was an excellent shot, and always had a standing invitation to join the parties at Hazelwell. Of late, however, visitors there had been few and far between, and Dr. Harding saw the Squire was gradually falling into a fit of despondency which boded ill for his health. He spoke to Irene about it, knowing the influence she had over him, and requested her to persuade him to go south for a time. This she did in her own winning way, promising Warren and herself would accompany him if he thought well.

"That is an inducement certainly, to have your company," he said. "I will think it over. I expect Harding has been putting you up to this," he added, smiling.

"Dr. Harding is only anxious about your health, and I am sure he advises you for the best," she said.

"I am aware of that," replied the Squire; "but we do not always follow the advice we ask. It is foolish, of course, and we ought to obey the doctor when we call him in. I rather fancy a change would do you good, Irene, you are not happy."

She looked troubled and said quickly —

"You are mistaken, I am perfectly happy; I have everything to make me contented."

"Has Warren been behaving himself lately?" he asked.

"He always behaves himself," was her answer.

"I am glad you think so; I do not," he said gruffly. "Warren is going the pace, and you know it."

His anxiety about Irene caused him for a time to forget his own troubles.

Eli Todd watched the Squire, and noted how worn and aged he was growing. This caused him many qualms of conscience; he knew the cause, and would have liked to remove it. He wrote a long letter to Ulick, telling him how his father's health suffered, and begging him to return. This caused him to wonder if he was doing right in remaining away. Now that he knew everything connected with Janet's disappearance from home, he felt it was impossible for him to go to Hazelwell and meet Irene, as he was sure to do. He wrote to Eli, explaining as well as he could that it was impossible for him to return at present, but circumstances might arise which would enable him to do so at no distant date. With this Eli had to rest contented, but he would have preferred something more definite.

It was shortly after the Saint's great race with Pinkerton at Kempton that the Squire came into Eli's cottage and sat down for a chat. Eli gave him full particulars of all the mares and youngsters in the stud, and said there would be some good prices realised at Doncaster in September.

"Honeysuckle's foal will be a tip-topper," said Eli. "He'll run well into four figures."

"I shall not sell him," replied the Squire.

Eli was glad to hear this; it meant the Squire thought of racing again.

"Shall you have him trained?" he asked.

"Yes, it is some time since I gave Fred May a turn. By the way, he has got hold of a champion in the Saint. That must have been a splendid race at Kempton. I wonder who Mr. Lanark is?"

"A new recruit to the turf," said Eli, smiling, "and he has made a rare good start." "He little thinks his son owns the Saint," thought Eli.

"He has got into the right hands. Fred May is thoroughly honest. Mr. Lanark, whoever he is, may congratulate himself. I wonder if he would sell the Saint?" said the Squire, half to himself.

Eli smiled; he thought it would be a curious thing if the Squire bought his son's horse. It occurred to him this might be the means of bringing them together.

"I should think it would be a difficult matter to induce him to part with him," said Eli.

"There can be no harm in trying," said the Squire. "I like the Saint's breeding; he would do well for the stud."

"Why not run down to Fred May's and see what can be done?" said Eli. "It will be a change for you."

"I think it will, and you had better come with me. I ought to write and let him know we are coming."

"I will do it to save you the trouble," said Eli.

"Very well, fix it for next Thursday, if that will suit Mr. Lanark, providing he is willing to sell," replied the Squire.

Eli cudgelled his brains how to bring about the meeting he desired. If Ulick knew his father was coming to Newmarket to see the Saint he would not be present, of that Eli felt certain. The only plan that suggested itself to him was to take Fred May into his confidence, for it was evident to Eli the trainer knew nothing of the misunderstanding between father and son. He wrote his letter after much deliberation, and anxiously awaited the reply. It came by return of post, and in it the trainer plainly showed how astonished he was at the breach between them.

"I will do all in my power to help you to heal it," he wrote, "but I am afraid we shall get into trouble. Neither the Squire nor his son like being dictated to, and they will probably think we have taken a liberty. However, we will risk it. Bring him on Thursday, and I'll see that his son is here, you can leave that to me. If we can effect a reconciliation we shall have done much good. The Saint is an extraordinarily good colt, equal to the best Derby form, and I am very glad I advised Mr. Maynard to buy him. Tell the Squire there is no price upon him, but that Mr. Lanark will be delighted to see him and show him his champion, and one or two more he has in my stable."

Eli sent a note up to the Squire stating the matter was arranged, and they had better go to London on the Wednesday, and on to Newmarket next day.

To this arrangement he agreed, and sent Bob Heather with a letter to tell Irene of his intention.

"If you and Warren come to town I will meet you at the Walton Hotel on Friday."

Irene sent back a reply to the effect that they would be there, as Warren had to go up to town again at the end of the week.

When Ulick received a letter from his trainer requesting him to go to Newmarket on Wednesday, he hastened down at once, fearing something might have gone wrong with the Saint.

"He's all right," said Fred May, in reply to Ulick's anxious inquiries, "but I have some rather startling news for you. A gentleman is coming to see him to-morrow; he wishes to buy him. I thought you would have no objection to showing him the Saint yourself."

Ulick laughed as he replied, "He is coming on a useless errand; I would not sell him at any price."

"Never refuse a good offer," said Fred May.

"Surely you would not like to lose him?" he replied.

"Certainly not, but I should advise you all the same to take a stiff price."

"Don't you think he will stand training?"

"Not a shadow of doubt about that," was the trainer's reply.

"Then I shall not part with him. Who is the gentleman?"

"I am not quite sure, but I fancy he is rather an exalted person," said Fred, mysteriously.

"You have brought me down on a wild-goose chase," laughed Ulick. "You don't even know the name of the intending purchaser. I am surprised at you, Fred; however, I forgive you. I am always glad of an excuse to run down to Newmarket and have a gallop on the Heath."

The Squire and Eli came by an early train, and arrived at Stanton House, the trainer's residence, unseen by Ulick, who happened to be reading the paper in Fred May's room.

After a few words of welcome with his old patron, the trainer said he would tell Mr. Lanark they were here, and left the room. Eli felt very uncomfortable; he wondered if there would be an explosion. He had agreed with Fred May that it would be better to leave them alone together.

The door opened, and the trainer said, "This is Mr. Lanark, I think you know him?"

Father and son were face to face, and, taking advantage of their astonishment and consternation, the trainer and Eli beat a retreat, wondering how their plot would succeed.

For a few moments neither of them spoke. Both knew they had been brought together by Eli and the trainer. At last a smile came over the Squire's face, and he said, as he held out his hand, "We have been caught cleverly, Ulick, and I trust it is all for the best; it is a long time since we met, my boy." His voice shook at the finish, and this touched Ulick; he noticed how his father had changed, he seemed much older, and his face more worn. He clasped his hand and said —

"We have both suffered; it was all a mistake." He seemed at a loss for words. Had his father decided to do him justice, or did he still suspect him? It would be impossible for him to return to Hazelwell at present, and be constantly meeting Warren and his wife; that was more than he could endure, and yet he was unable to explain the reason to his father.

"So you are Mr. Lanark," said the Squire, laughing more heartily than he had done for many a day.

Eli and the trainer, listening like two guilty schoolboys in the hall, heard him, and the former said, joyfully —

"It's all right, Fred, that's the Squire's laugh, and right glad I am to hear it."

"It's splendid," said Fred, as he rubbed his hands in high glee; "we must crack a bottle over this, Eli, come along."

"I am Mr. Lanark," said Ulick, "and I own the Saint, but he is not for sale," he added, smiling.

"Never mind the horse at present; tell me what you have been doing," said the Squire.

"Living quietly in a flat in West Kensington, and doing a little racing," replied Ulick.

"Not quite so pleasant as Hazelwell?" inquired his father.

"There is no place quite like Hazelwell to my mind," said his son. "I was fearfully dull and miserable at first, but I have become fairly used to it now."

"You will come back to our home?" was the next question.

Ulick looked troubled; what could he say, how make an excuse?

"There is no occasion to hesitate," said the Squire. "Return with me to-day; the flat can look after itself."

The temptation was great. He thought of Hazelwell and all it meant to him; then he thought of Irene. If he was constantly in Warren's company he felt he must betray himself. Better to stay away, far better for all of them.

"I cannot return to-day, father," he said, quietly. "I have very good reasons for not doing so. Trust me, believe in me; I am acting for the best, as one day you will discover."

The Squire's face clouded. "He dare not face us all after what he has done," was his thought. He sighed heavily, and his son knew what it meant.

"You still believe me guilty," he said. "You are wrong, quite wrong. I can prove my innocence, but you ought not to require that of me. Cannot you trust me, father?"

The appealing tone in his voice was unmistakable, there was a ring of sincerity in it, and the Squire wavered. Ulick had not been accustomed to deceiving him. If he could only bring himself to believe in his innocence; but the evidence was damning, and now his refusal to return to Hazelwell confirmed it.

"Do you know who took Janet Todd away from home?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Ulick, in a low voice.

"Ah!" exclaimed the Squire, in a tone of satisfaction. "Then why have you not given me his name long ago?"

"Because I only discovered it the other day, and that quite by accident."

"Who is the scoundrel?"

"I cannot tell you."

"You must," thundered the Squire.

Ulick remained silent, nothing his father might say would make him break his resolve. It was hard, very hard, and at that moment he hated Warren Courtly heartily.

"Come, my boy," said his father, in a milder tone, "let there be no more differences between us. Are you satisfied if I say I am convinced of your innocence, and ask you to forgive me for my unjust suspicions? I regret the hasty, angry words I said that night. Come back home with me, and let bygones be bygones."

Ulick was moved, for he knew what it cost his father to speak such words, and acknowledge himself in the wrong. It was an appeal that cut him to the heart to refuse.

"If you knew all, father, you would say I was acting right not to return home at present. To hear you say you are convinced of my innocence has lifted a heavy load from me, and I thank you for those words with all my heart. How I long to return to Hazelwell, you must know, and therefore will understand the weighty reasons I have for not doing so. Trust me, father, believe in me, and I shall be the happiest man alive."

The Squire did not hesitate. He spoke steadily as he said, "I will trust you, my son. We have been separated too long. If you cannot return with me, I know there must be grave cause of which I know nothing. What it is I cannot imagine, but you will tell me some day, and I hope and pray that it will not be long. If you will not return with me to Hazelwell, you must come to the Walton with me and spend a few days."

"Willingly," said Ulick. "It will be like the good old times for us to be together again."

"I feel a new man," said the Squire, heartily, as he rose to his feet. "We will go and find those two schemers, Eli and Fred, and then have a look at the Saint."

CHAPTER XIII

THE SQUIRE AND THE SAINT

Redmond Maynard opened the door, and, followed by his son, went in search of the culprits. He knew his way about Stanton House, having often stayed there when Fred May trained his horses.

"I know where we shall find them," he said, "in May's room." They entered without ceremony and surprised the worthy pair enjoying a glass of champagne. They looked ludicrously guilty, and the Squire burst out laughing.

"You think you are very clever, no doubt," he said. "As it happens, everything has turned out for the best, but you might have got into trouble had it been otherwise."

"We had not much doubt about succeeding, or we should not have risked it," said Eli. "I am sure you are not sorry we did so."

"No, we are perfectly satisfied," replied the Squire, "and you both deserve credit for all you have done."

The trainer sent for another bottle of champagne, and the Squire and Ulick joined them.

"There is no chance of buying the Saint, Mr. Lanark says," remarked the Squire, smiling; "but as the horse is in the family I do not see that it matters much. One thing you must promise me, when he has finished racing you will send him to the Hazelwell stud."

"With pleasure," replied his son. "But he will stand a lot of training."

"I shall be surprised if he is not running as an aged horse," said the trainer, "for I never saw one with better legs or a sounder constitution; he is built for work, and cannot have too much of it. I only wish he was in the Derby, he is the very horse for that race."

"Let us go and see him," said the Squire. And they went towards the stables.

"I wonder what my father will think of his colour?" said Ulick to the trainer.

"It will surprise him, and he will be disappointed as you were, until he looks him over," was the reply.

"Eli, I shall not forget what you have done for us," said the Squire, as they walked across the yard. "I know it was your plan that brought us together. What made you think of it?"

"I saw you were feeling the separation more every week, and I determined to put a stop to it if I could, so I took Fred May into my confidence, and he eagerly agreed to my scheme."

"I wonder why Ulick will not return to Hazelwell with me?" mused the Squire.

"Is he not going home with you?" asked Eli, surprised.

"No, he says he has good reasons for not doing so. He knows who ran away with Janet, but he cannot tell me. Do you know?" asked the Squire, quickly.

"No," stammered Eli, thinking to himself perhaps Ulick's suspicions rested upon the same man as his own.

The Squire looked at him keenly, and said, "I believe you do. Confound it, I cannot make it out at all; why am I kept in the dark?"

Eli was glad when the trainer called out, "You are going too far; this is the Saint's box."

The Squire's mind was diverted, and he turned sharply round and walked back.

The trainer threw open the door of the box, and the Saint was stripped for their inspection.

The Squire looked at him in astonishment, and said, "Is this a joke, that cannot be the Saint? What a horrible colour! I never saw such a dirty grey before."

They laughed, and Eli was as much taken aback as his master.

"That is the Saint," said Ulick, "and I am not surprised you do not like his colour. I thought as you think when I first looked at him, and so did his owner, who parted with him solely because of his colour, and has regretted it ever since. I refused to purchase him for no other reason."

"Then who bought him?" asked the Squire.

"Fred May, and resold him to me at the price he gave for him. If it had not been for him I should not have had the colt at all."

"Upon my word I cannot help being disappointed," said the Squire. "He is not fit to look at."

The trainer laughed heartily, as he replied, "Come, Mr. Maynard, that is too bad, after all he has done. He has never been beaten yet, and do not forget he 'downed' the present Derby favourite as a two-year-old. Forget his colour, and examine him for his good qualities. I do not think you will find a fault with him."

The Squire went up to the Saint and carefully handled him. He was a considerable time making his inspection, and said at the conclusion —

"You are right; I cannot find fault with him, he is perfect, except for his colour. What a pity it is; it will never do to breed from him."

"I should chance it," said Ulick. "He may get them a much better colour than himself, and as far as make and shape and performances are concerned, he cannot very well be beaten."

"When does he run again?" asked the Squire.

"In the Coronation Cup in Derby week. It is run over the Derby course, and we want to show them what he can do. He'll meet last year's Derby winner, the Cesarewitch winner, and the Gold Cup winner of last season; if that is not a test of his quality, I do not know where it is to be found," said May.

"That will be a race," replied the Squire, "and I must be there to see it. I have a very good colt foal out of old Honeysuckle I am going to keep, and I shall send him to you at the back-end."

"I shall be very pleased to have him," replied May. "What a wonder Honeysuckle was on the turf, and at the stud she has been even a greater success."

"And that does not always follow," said the Squire.

"By no means," replied the trainer. "The contrary is often the case."

The other horses at Stanton House were looked over, and after luncheon the Squire and his son returned to London, Eli going back to Hazelwell by a different route.

On their way up to town Ulick gave his father a full account of his doings since he left home; and the Squire, in return, informed him of the course of events at Hazelwell.

"If it had not been for Irene I should have been still more lonely," he said. "She was with me last winter for some time, and cheered me up, although I am rather afraid she was not particularly happy herself. I wish you had fallen in love with her instead of Warren, it would have been a good thing for all of us."

"If he only knew how I loved her," thought Ulick. Aloud he said, "She ought to be happy. Anselm Manor is a fine place, and her husband has plenty of money."

"He had," remarked the Squire, "but I do not know whether it is the case now. He gambles and is seldom at home. He had to sell Holme Farm to pay his debts, it was the best part of the estate. He had not the sense to offer it to me; I would have given him half as much again as he sold it for."

Ulick was surprised to hear this; he knew Warren Courtly was very well off, and his gambling transactions must have been very heavy to force him to sell Holme Farm.

"Does Irene know of this?" he asked.

"Yes, she cannot be kept in the dark. They have not been married long, as you are aware, and yet I am very much afraid she has found out her mistake, and, what is worse, I encouraged her to accept him. It has all been a deplorable bungle, but I hope Warren will pull up in time."

They drove from Liverpool Street to the Walton Hotel, and Ulick sent round to his rooms for his clothes.

As he dressed for dinner he little thought that Warren Courtly and Irene were to be of the party; he was unaware of their presence in the hotel, his father purposely not having mentioned it in case it might drive him away.

It wanted half an hour to dinner-time, and he opened the window and looked out across the gardens, the Embankment, and the river. The scene attracted him, although he had seen it many times before; but the dull, dark beauty of the Thames, as it flows through the great city to the sea, possesses an irresistible fascination which seldom palls. London and the Thames are bound together by historical ties which can never be undone. The great watery highway glides heavily along under many vast bridges, past huge warehouses, docks, and shipping from all parts of the world, until it gradually empties itself into the Channel, and is lost in the vast sea. Ulick knew Paris well, and wondered why there were no steamers plying along the Thames as they did on the Seine. He thought it a shame this great river should be thus neglected, for no more imposing view of London can be obtained than from a boat.