THE HONOR OF THE ELKENHEADS.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2664, 20 November 1909, Page 2 (Supplement)

THE HONOR OF THE ELKENHEADS.

<l3y EDWARD BOLTWOOD, Author of “The McDrummond Mark, “Law and the Man,” etc.) (Continued from last Week.) v 111. After dinner that same evening I roused up the bottle out of my trunk and brought it to my workroom, and I cleared the wax and drew the cork, very careful. Land of love—the bouquet of that liquor 1 The fume of it went through a man’s nostrils, and regular sang against the top of his head, and jingled down his spine. That brandy, mark you, was over a hundred years of age, dug up by the commodore when he was flaglieutenant, out of an old wreck at the bottom of Chesapeake Bay. There was his toast on the label, spe.led out in his shaky handwriting—“ Long honor to the Elkenheads.” Some folks held lie was touched in his brain at the last. While I was putting the bottle aside on a sbelf, that Richard, Mr. Clode’s chauffeur, happened down the hall; and he stopped and sniffed, small blame to him, at the open door. He carried a long envelope in one hand and a trav-elling-portmanteau hanging from the other. “Mr. Meadows,” said he, “I’d be grateful if you’d mend the tear in my coat, Mr! Meadows.” The good-for-nothing chap was wabbly on his pins, and loose-tongued; and a drunken servant always gravels me, no matter who his master is; so I ansAvered Richard sharp. “Oh, that’s all light, Mr. Meadows,” said> he. “Clcde’s going to leave north, on the Canada express, to-night, and here’s his tickets; ' and Richard slaps the enve.opa on my pressing-board. “All I've got to do,” says Richard, “is to drive C'lode over to the junction, Mr. MeadoAVS, and leave him and run the empty auto to New York, and keep my mouth shut.” “Well, you’re making a fine start, my poor lad,” says I; hut I Avasn’t at all sorry Mr. C'lcde Avas leaving, so 1 felt quite- affable. Richard glgg’ed ridiculous, and plum- . ped himself down on the valise, and mooned around the room. •‘Car’s ready below,” he says. “Can’t go till my coat’s fixed!” Just tlien my call-telephone buzzed and the manager Avanted to see me i r ery particular, and be quick about it. > “You wait here, and pull yourself together a bit, Richard, and I’ll mend your coat when I’m back,” said I. The manager’s errand took some time, and I made haste up-stairs again to the valet-rcom. There Avas a- sight for you! That pitiful Richard stiff in a chair, and the commodore’s bottle uncorked, and a china drinking mug beside* it! If he hadn’t wolfed down a gill, neat, then I’m a Turk! It had sent the poor fellow to Queer Street, too, good, and proper. I shook him, I pinched -him, and doused him; but Richard, he didn’t know Avhether he Avas in Piccadilly or St. Paul’s churchyard. Noav, I wanted to help Mr. Valerian Clode, Esq., to get aAvay from Windywood—no matter why. Although Air. Clode’s chauffeur couldn’t drive him that night, still the gentleman could catch his train by taking the motor-bus belonging to .the hotel. So I picked up Mr. Clode’s portmanteau and the open envelope from the pressing-board. Then I thought I’d better look in the envelope to see if there Avas any money in it that I might be asked to account for. All there was was two railroad tickets to Montreal and a Pullman reservation. Finally, I locked up the brandy in a cupboard, and shut the door and Avent doAvn-stairs. Abreast of the far end of the piazza I saw Air. Clode’s yellow ear, and him standing in the glare of the acetylene lamps, smoking a cigarette. IV. “I hope you’ll excuse me, sir,” said I. ’’Your man, Richard, has took very sick all of a sudden, Air. Clode.’’. , He looked black at mo for a second, and then he turned his head sideways, and so did I. Mrs. Robert was there, leaning in the shadow of a big tree. She had on a grey cloak, and grey veiling over her hair. “Then the lake road by moonlight must Avait until to-morrow,” said r.fiO. quite easy. “Why?” said Air. Clode. Airs. Robert laughed. “Because Richard is laid up, and I know how badly his employer drives, she said; and sho began to unwind the veiling and hummed a tune. “I made so bold, Mr. clode,” said 1, “to bring your travelling-bag and your _ two raihvay tickets for the Canadian exprefes to-night, sir,” said I. The tune was broke off short, but 1 kept my eyes down. “Begging your pardon, sir,’ says I, “you can catch-.the train by the bus, sir, and here’s tickets —both of them. “Hold your tongue,” says Air. Clode, giving himself away. “What tickets?” says Mrs. Robert. “What does this mean?” My heart gave a real happy bounce : aC the manner she asked that; for there , - wasn’t; any trick in her voice, nor in y Her face either, when I’ looked at her x ; could tell, if I do say it. It was plain -! as -plain . that if dishoner was- afoot ‘ that night she didn’t; guess till then. < She had a strip of green gauze clench- ! ed in her two hands, just beloiv her ... chin, and over it she stared at-Mr. 1 Clode -with a little of fright. * • Air. Clod©, ho -bit his cigarette ' and i flung it among the bushes. ' • ' “Give mo'the tickets,” said he; and 1 then, pretty cool, ' to Airs. Robert : 1 - ‘ ‘They are for two friends of mine,” he - : v said. •V'.'".. - .....

“And I’VO brought your .portmanteau, sir, ready packed,” I said. “You J see,, sir, if you’ll excuse me, Richard < told me your plans, sir, him being so sick.’ ( • At that Air. Clode whirled on me, « and for a minute I expected he - strike; but I wasn’t afraid of him. 1 felt, all at once, young and strong again. I had my eyes square on his, and I knew that I had a streak of something inside me that Mr. Clode didn't have,' and never had, and never Avould have, although he had been bred to be a gentleman and me a serA r ant. “Clear out, you Old fool! I’ll have you discharged in the morning!” says he; and I bowed and stepped hack. “Wait, John 1” spoke up Mrs. Robert. “I Avish you to go to my rooms with me.” “Yes, Aliss Paula,” says I, mighty prompt’ and glad. The name slipped out before I thought, because at- the Manor I’d been used to calling the younger ladiesi by their first names, even after they Avere married. And Aliss Paula gave me a very kind, quick glance that showed me she had noticed the name. Then she said a dozen Avords to Air. Clode —no more than a dozen. Well, I’ve heard the commodore dress doivn an impudent groom and flatten him out speechless, blit not a quarter of the commodore’s roaring talk at such time was anyivays fit for the lips of ladies. Noav Aliss Paula, of course, she never used a Avord to Air. Luode that couldn’t bet spoke in Sunday school, and her voice Avas quiet; and yet—it’s a funny thing—she reminded me of the commodore in his best days. She got the same results, anyhow. Aliss Paula Avalked along the piazza to the office, and I tried to keep half a pace behind her; but she seemed to want me closer, so I could almost feel her clboAV and it trembled a mite. She went to the office-desk and had a minute’s confab with the manager, and she said to me: “John,” she said, “I have explained that you are our servant again, and I lia\’e made arrangements to have you spend the night in our sitting-room,. 1 have no maid," she said, “and I should like some one at hand. ' So av© marched up the stairs, steady enough; but as soon as she AA r as in the sitting-room Aliss Paula sank doAvn in a chair, pressing her temples and moaning and shivering. “ How dare he think the worst? How dared he try to compromise me? she said, or something luce that. “The cad! The villain.” ' I .bustled about, pretending to be at work, for it isn’t right for even the oldest servants to see gentlefo.k lose their nerve. By and by she grew quieter, smiling in that Avay ladies do when they’re not really smiiing at all; and finally she reached out and took my hand before I knew it. “John, you’ve opened my eyes —-saved me —” she began; but I made free to break her off. “Why, Aliss Paula!’ says I. “You’re _ as cold as ice! It’s just a chill you have, Aliss Paula. Now, if you’ll let me, I'l-i make you a hot negus, the same as 1 used to make for the ladies at the Alanor. It will warm you most extraordinary,” says I. She leaned back, Avatcliing me, with her eyes turned soft, oo I rang for spice, and hot water, and sugar, and a little sherry. The sherry gave me a thought, I suppose, and I asked Aliss Paula’s permission to go to my euj)board after something. Poor Richard had wafted himself off. by that time. The commodore’s bottle Avas safe, and I fetched it to Miss Paula’s rooms. She was standing by the open, door, waiting for me. I used the brandy for making that hot negus, talking the way I might to amuse a child in the butler’s pantry. I told her about Commodore Ei kenhead and his toast, and hoAV the same bottle had put Richard out,- and had. given me a chance to speak to Mr. Clode that night. She was quite a time reading the Commodore’s Avriting on the label. • “Robert and. I shall drink this toast in the Alanor—in our home—before the year is out,” says she. “Won’t you help me drink it now, John ” I poured a thimbleful for myself, to humor her, and—of course, you may ,be-, lieve it or not—she touched her glass to mine. vV:.. “Long honor to the Elkenheads, said Aliss Paula. 1 ,