The Man Who Drove the Car Read online

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  THE MAN WHO

  DROVE THE CAR

  BY

  MAX PEMBERTON

  AUTHOR OF

  "THE GIRL WITH THE RED HAIR"

  "THE IRON PIRATE" ETC.

  LONDON

  EVELEIGH NASH

  FAWSIDE HOUSE

  1910

  Printed by BALLANTYNE & Co. LIMITED

  Tavistock Street, Coven Garden, London

  CONTENTS

  I. THE ROOM IN BLACK II. THE SILVER WEDDING III. IN ACCOUNT WITH DOLLY ST. JOHN IV. THE LADY WHO LOOKED ON V. THE BASKET IN THE BOUNDARY ROAD VI. THE COUNTESS

  I

  THE ROOM IN BLACK

  They say that every man should have a master, but, for my part, Iprefer a mistress. Give me a nice young woman with plenty of money inher pocket, and a bit of taste for seeing life, and I'll leave you allthe prying "amatoors" that ever sniffed about a gear-box withoutknowing what was inside that same.

  I have driven plenty of pretty girls in my life; but I don't know thatthe prettiest wasn't Fauny Dartel, of the Apollo. This story isn'tabout her--except in a way--so it doesn't much matter; but when I firstknew Fauny she was getting thirty bob a week in "The Boys of Boulogne,"and, as she paid me three pound ten every Saturday, and the car costher some four hundred per annum to run, she must have been of a savingdisposition. Certainly a better mistress no man wants--not LalBritten, which is yours truly. I drove her for five months, and neverhad a word with her. Then a man, who said he was a bailiff, came andtook her car away, and there was no money for me on the Saturday. So Isuppose she married into the peerage.

  My story isn't about Fauny Dartel, though it's got to do with her.It's about a man who didn't know who he was--at least, he said so--andcouldn't tell you why he did it. We picked him up outside the CarltonHotel, Fauny and me,[1] three nights before "The Boys of Boulogne" wentinto the country, and "The Girls" from some other shop took theirplace. She was going to sup with her brother, I remember--astonishinghow many brothers she had, too--and I was to return to the mews offLancaster Gate, when, just as I had set her down and was about to driveaway, up comes a jolly-looking man in a fine fur coat and an opera hat,and asks me if I was a taxi. Lord, how I stared at him!

  "Taxi yourself," says I, "and what asylum have you escaped out of?"

  "Oh, come, come," says he, "don't be huffy. I only wanted to go as faras Portman Square."

  "Then call a furniture van," says I, "and perhaps they'll get youaboard."

  My dander was up, I tell you, for I was on the box of as pretty aDaimler landaulette as ever came out of Coventry, and if there'sanything I never want to be, it's the driver of a pillar-box with aflag in his left ear. No doubt I should have said much more to thegentleman, when what do you think happens--why, Fauny herself comes upand tells me to take him.

  "I'm sure we should like some one to do the same for us if no taxiswere about," says she very sweetly; "please take the gentleman,Britten, and then you can go home."

  Well, I sat there as amazed a man as any in the Haymarket. It's truethere weren't any taxis on the rank at the minute; but he could havegot one by walking a hundred yards along Trafalgar Square, and she musthave known it as well as he did. All the same, she smiled sweetly athim and he at her--and then, with a tremendous sweep of his hat, hemakes a gallant speech to her.

  "I am under a thousand obligations," says he; "really, I couldn'tintrude."

  "Oh, get in and go off," says she, almost pushing him. "I shall losemy supper if you don't."

  He obeyed her immediately, and away we went. You will remember thathis talk had been of a house in Portman Square; but no sooner had Iturned the corner by the Criterion than he began speaking through thetube, and telling me to go to Playford's in Berkeley Square. There hestopped, notwithstanding that it was getting on for twelve o'clock; andwhen he had rung the bell and entered the house, I had to wait a goodfifteen minutes before he was ready for the second stage.

  "Is it Portman Square now?" I asked him. He laughed and slipped asovereign into my hand.

  "I can see you're one of the right sort," he said. "Would you mindrunning round to the King's Road, Chelsea, for ten minutes? Perhapsthere'll be another sovereign before we get to bed to-night."

  I pocketed the money--you don't find many drivers who are long off thefourth speed in that line, and Lal Britten is no exception. As for thegentleman, he did seem a merry fellow, and his air was that of a Dukeall over--the kind of man who says "Do it," and finds you there everytime. We were round at the King's Road, Chelsea, perhaps a quarter ofan hour after he had spoken, and there we stopped at the door of a lotof studios, which I have been told since are where some of the greatpainters of the country keep their pictures. Here my friend was goneperhaps twenty minutes, and when next I saw him he had three flash-upladies with him, and every one as classy as he was.

  "Relations of mine," says he, as he pushes 'em into the landaulette,and closes the door himself. "Now you may drive to Portman Square justas fast as you please, for I'm an early bird myself, and don't approveof late hours."

  Well, I stared, be sure of it, though staring didn't fit that riddle,not by a long way. My mistress had lent her landaulette to a stranger;but I felt sure that she wouldn't have liked this sort of thing--andyet, remember, the gentleman had told me to drive to Portman Square, sothere could not be much the matter, after all.

  As for the ladies, it wasn't for me to quarrel with them. They wereall very well dressed, and behaved themselves perfectly. I came to theconclusion that I was dealing with some rich man who had a bee in hisbonnet, and, my curiosity getting the better of me, I drove away toPortman Square without as much as a word.

  Now, this would have been some time after twelve o'clock. It was, Ithink, a quarter to one when we turned into Portman Square, and hebegan to work the signal on the driver's seat which tells you whetheryou are to go to the right or the left, slow or easy, out or homeagain. All sorts of contradictory orders baffling me, we drew up atlast before a big house on the Oxford Street side, and this, to myastonishment, had a "To Let" board in the window, and another at thepillar of the front door. What was even more astonishing was the factthat this empty house--for I saw at a glance it was that--was justlighted up from cellar to attic, while there was as many as threefurniture vans drawn up against the pavement, and sending in theircontents as fast as a dozen men could carry them. All this, mind you,I took in at a glance. No time was given me to think about it, for thestranger was out of the car in a jiffy and had given me my instructionsin two.

  "Here's your sovereign," says he; "if you want to earn ten times asmany come back for me at four o'clock--or, better still, stay and give'em a hand inside. We want all the help we can get to-night, and nomistake about it. You can get your supper here, and bring that carround when I'm ready."

  Well, I didn't know what to do. My mistress had said nothing aboutstopping up until four o'clock--but for that matter she hadn'tmentioned ten pounds sterling either--and here was this merry gentlemantalking about it glibly enough.

  For my part the fun of the whole thing began to take hold of me, and Idetermined to see it through whatever the cost. There were goings onin Portman Square, and no mistake about it--and why should Lal Brittenbe left out in the cold? Not much, I can tell you. And I had the caraway in the garage off the Edgware Road, and was back at the oldgentleman's house just about as quick as any driver could have made thejourney.

  There I found the square half full of people. Three policemen stood atthe door of the house, and a pretty crowd of loafers, such as a partyin London can always bring together, watched the fun, although theycouldn't make much o
f it. Asking what the hullabaloo was about, afellow told me that Lord Crossborough had come up from the countrysuddenly, and was "a-keeping of his jubilee" at No. 20B.

  "Half the Gaiety's there, to say nothing of the Merry Widow," says he,as I pushed past him, "and don't you be in a hurry, guv'nor, 'causeyou've forgotten yer diamond collar. They won't say nothink up there,not if you was to go in a billycock 'at and a duster, s'welp me, theywouldn't----" But I didn't listen to him, and going up the front doorsteps by the policemen, I told them I was Lord Crossborough's driver,and passed right in.

  Now I have been through many funny scenes in my life, seen many funnygentlemen, to say nothing of funny ladies, and have had many a goodtime on many a good car. But this I shall say at once, that I nevergot a greater surprise than when I got back to 20B, and found myself inthe empty hall among twenty or thirty pairs of yellow breeches and asmany cooks in white aprons, all pushing and shouting, and swearing thatthe area gate was locked and bolted, and the kitchen in no fit state toserve supper to a dog.

  Upstairs on the landings men in white aprons were carrying plants inpots, and building up banks of roses; while higher up still stood LordCrossborough himself--the gentleman I had driven from theCarlton--shouting to them to do this and to do that, smoking a cigar aslong as your arm, and all the time as merry as a two-year-old at amorning gallop.

  As for the young ladies, they had taken off their cloaks, and all worepretty gowns, same as they would wear for any party in that part of theworld, and they were standing by his lordship's side, apparently justas much amused as he was. What astonished me in particular was thisnobleman's affability towards me, for he cried out directly he saw me,and implored me for heaven's sake to get the padlock off the area gate,or, says he, "I'm d--d if they won't be cooking the ducks in thedrawing-room."

  I was only too ready to oblige him, that goes without saying, though Ihad to run round to the garage for a file and a chisel, and when I gotback for the second time, it took me twenty minutes to get off thepadlock, after which they sent me upstairs, as they said, "to help withthe flats." Then I discovered that a play, or something, was to begiven in the drawing-room, the back part of which was full of scenery,showing a castle on the top of a precipice and a view of the ThamesEmbankment just below it, while away in the small library on the otherside of the staircase stood twenty or thirty ballet girls, just comefrom one of the West End theatres.

  Immediately after they had arrived, a number of fiddlers came tumblingup the stairs, and the fun began in earnest. A proper gentleman, whoseemed to know what he was talking about, though, to be sure, he didcall all the ladies his "darlings," started to put 'em through theirpaces. I saw one of our leading musical ladies coming down the stairsfrom the rooms above, and presently a lot of guests arrived from thehall below, and went into the great drawing-room, where the audiencewas to sit. "After all," says I, "this is just his lordship's bit offun--he's giving one of those impromptu parties we've heard so muchabout, and this play-acting is the surprise of it." You shall seepresently how very wrong I was.

  Well, the play went merry enough, as it should have done, seeing it wasperformed by people who have to make their living by plays. When itwas over, his lordship gets up and says something about their havingsupper, not in the English way but the French, same as they do at theCatsare[2] in Paris. This pleased them all very much, and I could seethat the most part of them were not real ladies and gentlemen at all,but riff-raff Bohemian stuff out for a spree, and determined to haveone. The supper itself was the most amusing affair you ever saw; forwhat must they do but flop down on the floor just where they stood, notminding the bare boards at all, and eat cold chicken and twist rollsfrom paper bags the footman threw to them. As for the liquor, youwould have thought they never could have enough of it--but it's not forme to say anything about that, seeing I had a bottle of the best tomyself down in the corner by the conservatory, and more than one paperbag when the first was empty.

  Now, this supper occupied them until nearly three in the morning. Imake out--as I had to do to the police--that it was just a quarter pastthree when the real business began, and a pretty frightening business,as my sequel will show. First it began with the sweepers, who swept upthe wreck of the vittals with long brooms, and sprinkled scented waterafterwards to lay the dust. Then the musicians played a mournful sortof tune, and after that, what do you think?--why, in came a number ofstage carpenters, who began to hang the whole place with black.

  I have told you already that it was an empty house and not a stick offurniture in it, save what we carried there--so you will see that allthis affair must have been arranged a long time before, for the blackhangings were all made to fit the room, and upon them they hung blackcandlesticks with yellow candles in them--as melancholy as those usedfor a funeral, and just the same kind, so far as I could see. Thisinterested the company very much. I could hear all sorts of remarksfrom the riff-raff who were making love on the stairs; and presentlythey all crowded into the room and listened to Lord Crossborough whilehe made them a speech.

  Let me confess that what I know about this speech I learned chieflyfrom the newspapers. His lordship spoke of his family affairs, andspoke of them in a way that might very well astonish the company.

  To begin with, he mentioned his own eccentricities during the last fivemonths, when, as he reminded them, he had retired from public life andgone down to Hertfordshire to found an academy where, with a fewconvivials, he might study Latin and Greek and forget the high old timehe had had in London formerly.

  This, he said, had been a pretty slow business, and quite given him thejumps. He began to find himself sighing for the old days. Plato andSocrates were fine old boys, but he preferred "The Boys of Boulogne" atthe Apollo, and no mistake about it. So he had given up keeping housewith Plato and the other gentleman, and was going over to France, whenhe discovered Captain Blackham's adventure with Jenny Frobisher of theOpera House, and wanted to know more about it. Did they think he wouldput up with that? Not for a minute, and, seeing that you can't get lawin such affairs in this country, he meant to do his own law-making.That very night he had asked Captain Blackham to come to this housethat they might meet and have it out like gentlemen should do. One ofthem would not return--he left it to the company to bear witness thatall was done squarely as between men of honour, and he begged them tokeep his confidence. It was then half-past three. They might expectthe Captain in ten minutes, during which time he would make hispreparations. He was sure they would never betray him.

  You may imagine the excitement this speech gave rise to. I was at thebottom of the stairs at the time, and I could hear the women crying outto each other, and the men asking what it all meant. Such a confusionand babel I shall never listen to again in any house. What with somerunning downstairs and calling for their carriages, the band playing,his lordship bawling for his servants--and, upon all this, the suddenarrival of the Captain, who carried a pair of swords in his hand--why,no madhouse could have matched it.

  Well enough, I say, for Lord Crossborough to ask people not to betrayhim; but what woman could hold her tongue under such circumstances, andhow did he think that such a game could be played and the police hearnothing of it? Why, I tell you that half a dozen girls were bawling"Murder!" before five minutes were past, and as many more imploring thepolice outside to step up and stop it. For myself I made no bonesabout the matter; and, not wishing to appear in a police court nextday, and thinking certainly that Lord Crossborough was as mad as anyfirst-floor tenant of Hanwell, I pushed my way through the press andwent off to the garage. Ten pound or no ten pound, I was for bed.Will you ask me if I was surprised when, going up to the car, the veryfirst person I met was his lordship, with a cigar about seven incheslong in his mouth, and as pretty a smile above his long black beard asI have seen this many a day.

  "Well, my boy," says he, opening the door quite calmly and steppinginside with no more concern than if I had just driven him from theCarlton to Hyde Park
Corner, "well, now I think we shall soon haveearned that extra ten-pound note. The next house is inHertfordshire--three miles from Potter's Bar, on the road to FiveCorners. Do you happen to know it, by the way?"

  I could hardly answer him for amazement.

  "But what about the Captain, sir," cried I.

  "Oh," says he, "the Captain will never trouble me again. Now get upand make haste. Is your back lamp all right? That's good--Iparticularly wish all the policemen to get our number. Go right aheadand stop for no one. It's a big house, I am told, and we cannot missit."

  "But," cried I, "isn't it your lordship's house?"

  He laughed, the merriest laugh in all the world.

  "I was never there in my life," says he; "now get on, for heaven'ssake, or you'll have the morning here."

  I hadn't a word for this, and, wondering whether I had gone dotty orhe, I let the Daimler out and drove straight up Baker Street, throughthe Park and out on to the Finchley Road. The police have eyes allround their heads for this track as a rule, but never a policeman do Iremember seeing that night, and we travelled forty-five an hour afterBarnet if we travelled a mile.

  My directions, you will remember, had been to go straight throughPotter's Bar, and then on to a place called Five Corners--a locality Ihad never heard of, well as I know Hertfordshire and the roads roundabout. This I told his lordship as we slowed up in the village, andhis answer was surprising, for he told me to go to the police stationand to ask there. So I slowed up in Potter's Bar, and, seeing apoliceman, I asked him to direct me.

  "Keep to the right and turn to the right again," says he, staring hardat his lordship and at me. "That's Lord Crossborough's house, isn'tit?"

  "Why, yes," says I, naturally enough, "and it's his lordship I amdriving."

  He nodded pleasantly at this, and his lordship putting his head out ofthe window at the moment, he spoke to him direct.

  "Rather late to-night, my lord."

  "Yes, yes, very late, and a driver who doesn't know the road. I ammuch obliged to you, constable. Tell him how to go, and here's asovereign for you."

  A policeman doesn't like a sovereign, of course, and this fellow wasjust as nasty about it as the others. I suppose he spent the nextquarter of an hour directing me how to go, and when that was done hesaluted his lordship in fine military fashion. To be truthful, I maysay that we went out of Potter's Bar with flying colours, and for thenext ten minutes I drove slowly down dark lanes with corners sharpenough for copybooks, and hedges so high that a man couldn't feelhimself for the darkness. When we got out of this we came to fivecross-roads, and a big sign-post; and here, I remembered, the policemanhad told me to take the middle road to the left, and that I should findFive Corners a quarter of a mile further down. So I was just swingingthe big car round when what should happen but that the signal told meto stop, and, bringing to in a jiffy, I waited for his lordship tospeak.

  "Britten," says he, for I had told him my name half a dozen timesalready, "Britten, this is very important to me. I'll make it fifteenpounds if you do the job well. Just drive up to the lodge, and whenthe man opens, you say 'His lordship is very late to-night.' Afterthat, you'll keep to the lower of two roads and come to another lodge.There, when you wake them up, you will say, 'His lordship is very earlythis morning,' and after that, drive away just as hard as the old carcan take you. I'm in the mood to have some fun to-night, and whateverI do is no responsibility of yours, so don't you be troubled about it,my lad. I shall exonerate you if there's any tale; but there can't beone, for surely a man may drive through his own park when he has themind to."

  I said "Of course he had," for what else could I say? The further Igot into this job the madder it appeared to be. Perhaps just becauseof its madness, I determined to see the end of it. After all, I hadbeen ordered by my mistress to drive this gentleman, and whatever hemight choose to do was no concern of mine. If I tell the whole truth,and say I thought him a lunatic with whom it would be dangerous toquarrel, well, there's no harm in that; for how many would have donedifferent, and where's the blame? Lords go mad like other people, forall their coronets; and fine times they appear to have in thatcondition. I said Lord Crossborough was either daft or had some deepgame going; and, with that to keep me up, I drove straight to the lodgegates, and bawled for them to let me in.

  There was a long wait here, fifteen good minutes or more before atousled-haired girl opened the little window of the cottage, and askedme what I wanted. When I told her to look sharp and not keep hislordship waiting, I do believe she laughed in my face.

  "Why, he's not left the house for a month!" cries she. "Now don't tellme!"

  "Oh, but I'm going to tell you--that and a lot more, if you don't hurryup. Don't you see that I've brought his lordship home?"

  "Oh, dear me," says she, all flustered; "I'm sure I beg his lordship'spardon----" and with that she came down like a shot and opened thegate. For my part I had nothing more to say to her, except the remarkwhich Lord Crossborough had ordered me to make, and exclaiming, "Hislordship is late to-night," I let the clutch in and started the car. Aglance behind me showed me my passenger fast asleep, with the girlstaring at him with all her eyes. But she said no more, and I droveon, and hadn't gone fifty yards before the signal was working again.

  "Oh," says I, "then we've got no sort of dormouse up to be sure.Asleep and awake again all in five minutes"; but I slowed up the car ashe directed, and immediately afterwards he called my attention toanother party who shared the road with us, and was as curious as thegirl. He was a policeman, and he had passed through the lodge gatesright on our heels.

  I don't know how it is, but if you are doing anything you have anydoubt about at all, the sight of a policeman always gives you thecreeps. I never see one, but I wonder if he has been timing me, orquarrelling with my number-plates, or doing one or other of thosethings which policemen do, and we poor devils pay for.

  This time I was right down afraid, and made no bones about it. Thescene in Portman Square, the women's screams, the empty house, theblack hangings, the talk concerning the duel, and his lordship'smysterious words about Captain Blackham never troubling him any more:they came upon me in a flash, and almost drove me silly. Not so mylord himself--I had never seen him calmer.

  "Good-morning, constable," says he, "and what can I do for you?"

  "I beg your pardon, sir," says the man, dismounting as he spoke, "butthere's a telegram from London about your house in Portman Square, andI came up to see if you know anything about it."

  "Of course I do, constable--very good of you, though. Tell them it'sall right, just a little party to some of my old friends. And here's asovereign for you; call again later on if you have anything to say.I'm half asleep and dead tired."

  He threw a sovereign out on to the grass, and the police sergeantpicked it up sharp enough. I thought there was a kind of hesitation inhis manner, but couldn't make much of it. Whatever he thought orwished to say, however, that he kept to himself, and after remarkingthat the morning would break fine, and that he was much obliged to hislordship, he mounted and rode away. This was the moment LordCrossborough ceased to work the signal, and, opening the front window,spoke to me direct.

  "Stop your engine," he says in a low voice, "and see you don't start ituntil that fellow is out of the park."

  I thought it a strange order, but did as he wished. It was plain tome, as it would have been plain to any one, that he didn't wish theconstable to see us take the lower road, and had thought out this trickto work his will. I am a pretty good hand myself at stopping myengine, and being unable to start her, especially when my master ormistress wants to get there in a hurry and doesn't consult myconvenience. So I was down in a jiffy when his lordship spoke, andthere I stood, pretending to swing the handle and to poke about insidethe bonnet until the sergeant had turned the corner of the drive, andit was safe to go ahead again.

  The second lodge lay perhaps the third of a mile from the place wherewe had halte
d, and we must pass within a hundred yards of the houseitself to get to it. I didn't need to be told not to sound my horn aswe went by, and we were creeping along nicely when--and this wassomething which seemed to hit me in the very face--we came upon a manwalking under the trees by the lake side, and he--believe me or not asyou like--was the very living image of my passenger. "Good God!" saysI, "then there are two of 'em," and in a very twinkling the wholenature of this night's business seemed clear to me.

  A man just like his lordship, dressed in a tweed suit and with a thickstick in his hand--a man with a bushy black beard, a full roundforehead, and the very walk and movement of the man I carried. Whatwas I to make of him, what to think of it? Well, I can hardly tell youthat, for, no sooner did we catch sight of the man than my passengerroared to me to go straight on, and, ducking down inside thelandaulette, he hid himself as completely from sight as though he hadbeen in the tool-box. For my part, remembering the old adage about "Infor a penny in for a pound," I just let the Daimler fly, and we wentdown the drive and up to the lodge as fast as car ever travelled thatparticular road or will travel it whatever the circumstances.

  "Gate," I roared, "gate, gate!" for the padlock was plain enough and agood stout chain about it. No one answered me for more than fiveminutes, I suppose, and no sooner did an old man appear, than I saw thestranger with his bushy black beard, his lordship's double, runningdown the drive for all he was worth, and bawling to the gate-keeper notto open.

  A critical moment this, upon my word, and one to bring a man's heartinto his mouth--the doddering old man tottering to the gate; thestranger running like a prize-winner; Lord Crossborough himself,doubled up in the bottom of the landaulette, and me sitting there withmy foot on the clutch, my hand on the throttle, and my pulse going likeone o'clock. Should we do it or should we not? Would it be shut oropen? The question answered itself a moment later, when thelodge-keeper, not seeing the other fellow, half opened the iron gatesand let my bonnet in between them. The car almost knocked him down aswe raced through--I could hear him bawling "Stop!" even above the humof the engine.

  You will not have forgotten that his lordship had told me to go, hellfor leather, directly I was through the gate, and right well I obeyedhim. The lanes were narrow and twisty; there were morning mistsblowing up from the fields; we passed more than one market cart, andnearly lost our wings. But I was out to earn fifteen of the best, andright well I worked for them. Slap bang into Potter's Bar, slap bangout of it and round the bend towards Prickly Hill. I couldn't havedriven faster if I had had the whole county police at my heels--and theLord knows whether I had or not.

  This brought us to Barnet in next to no time. We were still doingforty as we entered the town, and would have run out of it attwenty-five after we'd passed the church and the police station--wouldhave, I say, but for one little fact, and that was a fat sergeant ofpolice right in the middle of the road, with his hand held up like aleg of mutton, and a voice that might have been hailing a burglar.

  "Here, you," he cried, as I drew up, "who have you got in that car?"

  "Why," says I, "who should I have but somebody who has a right to bethere? Ask his lordship for himself."

  "His lordship--do you mean Lord Crossborough?"

  I went to say "Yes," just as he opened the door. You shall judge whatI thought of it when a glance behind me showed that the landaulette wasempty.

  "Now, who are you making game of?" cried the sergeant, throwing thedoor wide open. "There ain't no lordship in here. What do you mean bysaying there was?"

  "Well, he was there when I left Five Corners----"

  "What! you've come from his house?"

  "Straight away," says I, "and no calls. Ask him for yourself."

  He could see that I was flabbergasted and telling him the truth. Therewas the landaulette as empty as a box of chocolates when theparlourmaid has done with them. How Lord Crossborough got out or wherehe had gone to when he did get out, I knew no more than the dead. Onething was plain--I was as clean sold as any greenhorn at any countryfair. And I made no bones about telling the sergeant as much.

  "He asked me to drive him down from town to his house at Five Corners.My mistress told me to take him, and I did. I was to have fifteen ofthe best for the job--and here you see what I get. Oh, you bet I'mhappy."

  I spoke with some feeling, and you may be sure I felt pretty kindtowards Lord Crossborough just then. To be kept up all night and runabout like a "yellow breeches," to have my ears crammed with promisesand my skin drenched with the mists, to find myself stranded in Barnetat the end. It was more than any man's temper could stand, and that Itold the sergeant.

  "Well," says I, "next time I meet him, I shall have something prettystrong to say to that same Lord Crossborough, and you may tell him sowhen you see him."

  "See him--I wish we could see him. There's half the county policelooking for him this minute. Oh, we'd like to see him all right, and afew others as well. Now, you come down to the station and tell us allabout it. There'll be a cup of hot coffee there, and I daresay youwon't mind that."

  I said that I wouldn't, and went along with him. An inspector at thestation took my story down from the time I set off from the Carlton tothe moment I quitted Five Corners. What he wanted it for, what LordCrossborough had done, or what he was going to do, they didn't tell me,nor did I care. But they gave me a jolly good breakfast before theysent me off, and that was about the best thing I had had for twelvelong hours. It was eleven o'clock when I got back to town at last.And at three o'clock precisely I saw my mistress again.

  You will readily imagine that I was glad of this interview, and hadbeen looking forward to it anxiously from the time I drove the car intothe stable until the moment it came off. Miss Dartel had a flat inBayswater just then; but she didn't send for me there, and it was atthe theatre I saw her, in her own dressing-room between the acts of arehearsal. A clean-shaven gentleman was talking to her when I went in,and for a little while I didn't recognise him; but presently he turnedround, and something in his manner and tone of voice caused me to lookup sharp enough.

  "Why," says I, "his lordship!"

  They both laughed at this, and Miss Dartel held up her finger.

  "Whatever are you saying, Britten?" cried she. "That's Mr. Jermyn, ofthe Hicks Theatre."

  "Jermyn or French," says I, my temper getting up, "he's the man I droveto Five Corners last night--and fifteen pounds he owes me, neither morenor less."

  Well, they both laughed again, and the gentleman, he took a pocket-bookfrom the inside pocket of his coat and laid three five-pound notes onthe table. While they were there, Miss Dartel puts her pretty fingersupon them, and begins to speak quite confidentially--

  "Britten," says she, "there's fifteen pounds. I daresay it would befifty if you had a very bad memory, Britten, and couldn't recognise thegentleman you picked up last night. Now, do you think you have such abad memory as all that?"

  I twigged it in a minute, and answered them quite honestly.

  "I must know more or less, madame," says I. "Remember my interests arenot this gentleman's interests."

  "Oh, that's quite fair, Britten, though naturally, we know nothing.But they do say that poor Lord Crossborough has gone quite silly aboutthe rural life. He's been reading Tolstoy's books, and wants to liveupon a shilling a day; while poor Lady Crossborough, who knows mycousin, Captain Blackham, very well, she's bored to death, and it willkill her if it goes on. So, you see, she persuaded his lordship togive that funny party at his old house in Portman Square last night,and all the papers are laughing at it to-day, and he'll be chaffed outof his life. I'm sure Lady Crossborough will get her way now, Britten;and when the police hear it was only an eccentricity upon hislordship's part, they won't say anything. Now, do you think that youwould be able to swear that the man you drove last night was very likeLord Crossborough? If so, it would be lucky, and I'm sure her ladyshipwill give you fifty pounds."

  I thought about it a minute,
rolling up the notes and putting them intomy pocket. Of course I could swear as she wanted me to. And fifty ofthe best. Good Lord, what a temptation!

  But I'll tell you straight that I got the fifty, and never sworenothing at all. The party was a job put up by Lady Crossborough. Theman I drove was Mr. Jermyn, of the Hicks Theatre, and the world and thenewspapers laughed so loud at his lordship, who never convinced anybodyhe hadn't done it, that he went off to India in a hurry, and never cameback for twelve months. Which proves to me that honesty is the bestpolicy, as I shall always declare.

  And one thing more--where did Mr. Jermyn get out of my car? Why, justas I slowed up for the corner by the church at Barnet--not a hundredyards from where the constable stopped me. A clever actor--why, yes,he is that.

  [1] The Editor has left Mr. Britten to speak for himself in his ownmanner when that seems characteristic of his employment.

  [2] Mr. Britten's spelling of Quat'z-Arts is eccentric.