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The Queen's Scarlet, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 20. Beneath The Lady's Lattice-Pane |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY. BENEATH THE LADY'S LATTICE-PANE Dick Smithson turned round in astonishment to gaze in the face of his companion, whose act had at once taken the attention of a couple of soldiers, out beyond their time, and of some men with whom they were drinking. "Call for something, Smithson," whispered the lieutenant, glancing back anxiously at the door. "But I don't want anything, sir," said Dick, angrily. "Never mind; treat me, then." Dick stared, wondering whether his companion was going out of his mind. "Don't stop," whispered the lieutenant. "Order some beer." With the reason beginning to dawn upon him now, Dick ordered and paid for two pots of ale, which he handed to the two half-tipsy soldiers, who began proposing their health just as steps and voices were heard passing. The next minute they were outside. "A false alarm, Smithson," said the lieutenant, with a forced laugh, as he dabbed his forehead. "I caught a glimpse of them lower down; I thought it was the major and the doctor. How absurd it all seemed. You don't think those two fellows will talk about it?" "Well, sir, I can't help thinking they will," replied Dick. "That will be awkward," said the lieutenant in dismay. "They ought to have been in barracks; and they may excuse themselves by saying that I was treating them at a public-house." "Yes, sir, it will be awkward," said Dick, who felt annoyed and yet amused. "It will look so ungentlemanly. You see, they were both men belonging to my company. Whatever shall I do?" "Nothing, I should say, sir. I don't see what you can do." "No," said the lieutenant, shaking his head sadly. "What a pity it is that things will go so crookedly!" And he walked on in silence down into the main street, looking sharply from side to side. "Anyone would think that we were going to commit a burglary," muttered Dick. As they went on for some time, "Is it here, sir?" he ventured to say at last. "Only about five hundred yards more, Smithson; but, really, that _contretemps_ has so upset me that I think you had better play a solo. I shall never get through a duet." "But that would be of no use, sir," cried Dick. "It would be only my music then. It ought to be your serenade." "Yes, Smithson--it ought," sighed the lieutenant in a husky whisper; "but, if I broke down, it would be absurd." "But you wouldn't break down, sir. See how correctly you played it this evening." "Yes, I did--didn't I? You think I could do it, don't you?" "I'm sure you could, sir, if you would only forget about being nervous." "I must try," said the lieutenant. "We are very near now." They were now where the lamps had grown fewer, and consequently the road between was much darker; but there was light enough for Dick to see that they were passing a series of detached houses, built upon the same plan, standing back some forty yards from the road, and approached by semicircular carriage drives from gate to gate. Trees were plentiful in the grounds, and overhung and darkened the footpath; so that, as they passed the second gateway, the lieutenant gave a violent start, for from close up to the wall there came a gruff voice-- "Night, gentlemen!" "Eh! You quite startled me," said the lieutenant. "I didn't see you." "No, sir. Don't want to be seen," replied the man. "Get some queer customers down here sometimes, and obliged to keep a sharp look-out." "Yes; quite right," said the lieutenant, feebly; and he walked straight on for about a hundred yards before speaking. "It's all over, Smithson!" he whispered at last. "All over, sir?" "Yes; that's the house, and there's the policeman on the watch." "That's awkward," said Dick; "but he'll soon go, sir." "Soon go, man! Who's to go and play a duet with a policeman keeping his eye upon you all the time? I couldn't do it, Smithson." "Let's walk on a little farther, sir, and then turn back." "No; we must give it up for to-night. How terribly strange things are turning up! And, besides, it's getting so late." They walked on a quarter of a mile and then turned back, hardly a word being said, the lieutenant filling up the time by uttering the peculiar sound expressed by the word _tut_ repeated rapidly. "Shall I go on first, sir, and see if the policeman is there?" said Dick at last. "No, no; it would look so suspicious. He might take us for bad characters. We must walk by together." "Very well, sir," replied Dick; and they strolled slowly along the now deserted road, with the lights in the upper windows of the houses gradually dying out one by one, as if to prove that the lieutenant's words about being late were correct. To their great satisfaction, though, the lights were still plainly to be seen in the last house but one of those standing back, and as they passed the swing gates no policeman was visible. But they walked on back towards the town for another hundred yards, and then stopped. "Coast quite clear, sir," said Dick. "Think so, Smithson? Is it safe?" "The constable has evidently gone on his round." "But he said something about watching." "Yes, sir; but he would not stop in one place. I'd venture, if I were you." "Then we will, Smithson. Come along back at once, and let's get it over. The plan of attack is to go quickly through the gate, pass on to the grass, and then right up to the house--on the lawn, of course. Then one, two, three, four, and start at once." "Yes, sir; I understand. I'll count four in a whisper, and away we go." "There, then, not a word till I tap your arm with my flute, which you can give me as soon as we have got on to the lawn." The entrance was reached again, but there was no policeman in the dark nook, and, raising the latch, the lieutenant swung open the gate, and they passed through, the latch falling back into its place with a faint click which sounded terribly loud, and made them pause for a moment or two. "Come along," whispered the lieutenant; "on to the grass." "What's your little game?" It was a gruff whisper from out of a clump of laurustinus, and, as the stalwart figure of the policeman moved up in the darkness, the lieutenant turned to flee, but stopped short on Dick grasping his arm. "There's nothing wrong, constable!" said Dick, quickly. "No; and I don't mean for there to be! Just consider yourselves ketched! No gammon, or I whistles, and there'll be dozens of our chaps here in no time; and, if they comes and finds you're nasty, there won't be no mercy--and so I tell yer!" "Don't be absurd," said Dick, thinking it better to out with the truth; "we've only come to play a tune or two in front of the house." "Yes, yes!" said the lieutenant, feebly. "Yes, yes!" cried the constable, mockingly. "I know--one on yer's going to play a toon on the centre-bit while t'other sings the pop'lar and original air o' 'Gentle Jemmy in the 'ouse.' Now, then, no gammon! Come on!" "Hadn't we better walk to the station with him, and explain to his officer?" said the lieutenant, mildly. "No!" cried Dick, angrily; "we'll make him understand here! Don't be absurd, constable; this is a gentleman--" "From London. I know!" "Nonsense! he lives in Ratcham. It is only meant for a pleasant little surprise." "To find the plate gone, eh!" "I tell you we were going to play a tune or two!" "Then where's your organ?" "Absurd!" "Fiddles, then?" "Fiddles--nonsense! Here are our instruments." Dick unbuttoned the loose overcoat and brought out the two flutes. As Dick unfastened the coat there was a faint, gleam of light from the constable's belt, which shone on Dick's chest. "From the barracks, eh?" said the constable, surlily. "Humph! Well, I'm sure I don't know what to say. You may be London burglars, and putting a clever flam on me." "Do people go burgling with flutes?" said Dick, angrily. "Now, look here, go back to the gate, and mind we are not interrupted! This gentleman is going to slip two half-crowns in your hand." "Well, if it's all right, and only a bit of music, I don't want to be disagreeable, gentlemen. Sarah-naying, don't you call it? Only look out: I have heered tell o' blunderbusses and revolvers about here! Thankye, sir; but, of course, that wasn't ness'ry. I've got to go 'bout half-mile! down the road, so you'd better get it over before I come back." The man went off, and the lieutenant stood panting. "I'd rather have faced the enemy's shot, Smithson!" he whispered. "But it's all right now, sir," said Dick. "Catch hold of your flute. I'd not interfere with the tuning-slide: it's quite correct." "It's impossible, Smithson; my hands are trembling terribly." "You'll forget it as soon as we begin, sir. Come along!" Dick led the way in and out among the clumps of shrubs that dotted the soft lawn till the house was reached, and the lieutenant yielded to the stronger will, following with his flute in his hand. "Which is her window, sir?" whispered Dick. "That one," replied the lieutenant, feebly, as they stood there in the darkness, with the stars glimmering overhead and the sweet fragrance of the dewy flowers rising all around. "Then one--two--three--_four_" whispered Dick. "Off!" "He regularly makes me," muttered the lieutenant, raising the flute to his lips, and the sweet, soft sounds floated out upon the night breeze, the pupil playing far better than Dick had anticipated, and keeping well up through the first verse, evidently encouraged by the successful issue of his lessons, and also by the fact that there came a sharp snap overhead, followed by the peculiar squeaking, grating sound of a window-sash being raised, while, dimly seen above, there was a figure in white. That second verse rang out with its message of flowers committed to the flowing river more and more sweetly than before, though it was not really the lieutenant's fault, for Dick kept on throwing out a few clear notes--additional to his part--when some of his companion's threatened to die away, and these grace notes came in with such delicious, florid eccentricity that a hearer would have taken them for intentional variations cleverly composed by a good musician. On the whole, then, the performance was as creditable as it was charming; and the second verse ended. "A bar's rest, and then once more," whispered Dick. "One--two--three-- four." _Pat_! _scatter_, and a feeble groan! Then a voice from the open window--a peculiarly clarionetty harsh voice, such as could only come from a very elderly lady's throat-- "Thank you! Very nicely played. Good-night." The window squeaked, was then closed loudly, and whispering "Come along!" the lieutenant was in full retreat towards the gate, while Dick was choking in his endeavour to smother his laughter. "Coppers!" groaned the lieutenant; "that must have been quite a shilling's worth of halfpence wrapped up in paper. They hit me on the top of the head." "And burst and scattered over the grass," whispered Dick, trying to be serious. "Yes, Smithson; and if I had had no cap the consequences might have been serious." "Were you hurt, sir?" "More mentally than bodily, Smithson," sighed the lieutenant. "But how could the lady make such a mistake as to think we--you were a travelling musician?" "The lady?" cried the lieutenant angrily. "How can you be so absurd, Smithson! it was her prim old aunt!" There was no more said on the way back to the barracks, much to Dick's satisfaction, for he felt that if the lieutenant spoke he would be compelled to burst out with a roar of laughter in his face. _ |
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