The Gay Adventure: A Romance
few minutes later he rejoined Beatrice, who had more surprises in store.
She was chatting merrily with the air-man as he came up.
"This is great luck!" she said cheerfully to the astonished Lionel.
"Here's an old friend of mine dropped from the skies--yes!
literally!--to pay a friendly call. Let me introduce you: Mr.
Mortimer--Mr. Ashford Billing, my late manager."
"Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Billing," said Lionel mechanically. "I've
heard your name before."
"And I yours, Mr. Mortimer," replied Billing with genuine heartiness.
"It's a real pleasure to meet a man who can write like you."
"I don't understand," said Lionel. "How can you know anything of my
work? It's not attracted much notice yet."
Billing laughed.
"Shall I tell him?" he asked, turning to the lady.
"Bags I!" said Beatrice, laughing: "that must be my royalty, or
commission, if you prefer it. First of all, let me explain his presence.
He called on me this afternoon and found that I was out----"
"_As_ usual," interrupted Billing.
"And learned where I had gone from my servant. Then, being in a
hurry----"
"Wanted to try to persuade her to sign a new contract," said the
irrepressible Billing, "but she won't. Perhaps you can make her realize,
Mr. Mortimer, that if she retires the stage will lose one of its
brightest jewels."
"Oh, keep that for the publicity agent!" she begged. "I've told you I
mean to retire, and that's final. I want to tell the _news_. Well, Mr.
Mortimer, the impetuous man couldn't wait, so he went down to Brooklands
and flew here----"
"Quicker than the train," smiled Billing. "American hustle and all
that----"
"And now he tells me--as a casual item of information--that he's going
to produce your play."
"_What!_" said Lionel.
"Yes--yes--yes! Isn't it splendid? Now, Ashford, you can tell the rest."
"Guess there isn't much left to tell," said Billing, still smiling.
"Well, sir, Miss Blair told me about your play a month ago now. My
reader reported favorably on it, and I read it myself. I think it will
go, Mr. Mortimer, if I'm any judge; and when you get back to London we
can fix up the contract. I hope it will mean something hot for both of
us."
Lionel turned, incapable of speech, to Beatrice. He thanked her with his
eyes, but more than thanks lay in them, and Billing noticed the mutual
look with an inward groan. There was silence for a moment. Then Billing
squared his shoulders, and in a matter-of-fact voice said, "Well, I
calculate I must be getting home."
Beatrice protested. There was not the least hurry. There was no sense in
this flying over to see them and only staying for ten minutes. He must
stop and have dinner: why not sleep?...
"You forget I don't know your sister," he replied with a peculiar smile.
Beatrice blushed. Lionel did not notice the blush. He was too busy
thinking of the new vistas that opened before him even to hear what they
were saying. He despised the flying man, for did not he, Lionel, tread
upon the air?
"I'll arrange that somehow," said Beatrice quickly. "Ashford, you really
must stop. I want to talk to you."
"Excuse me," he said with a queer smile that was not of joy, "but I
guess I know better than that." His voice sank. "My dear, I wish you
luck!"
"Oh, Ashford, dear!" she whispered, "I'm so sorry ... I'm so sorry...."
"That's all right," he said more cheerfully. "Now, I'm really going,
never to worry you again. Hello! what's this?"
His exclamation of surprise caused them to turn and look toward The
Quiet House.
From the wicket-gate had issued the figure of a man running. He wore no
hat, and though apparently elderly, was progressing at a very fair rate
of speed. But he had not run more than twenty yards before another man
came bursting from the gate.
"Why, it's the prisoner!" gasped Lionel, "and good heavens!--yes!" He
turned swiftly to Beatrice. "It's the churchwarden! What on earth is he
doing here?"
"So it is," replied Beatrice without emotion. He wondered at her
self-control. "They seem to be in a hurry."
Robert was evidently in a very great hurry, but Tony had the advantage
in years and sprightliness. He caught his quarry in a very short space,
and seized him by the shoulder. Then the pair of them stopped, Robert
obviously unwilling, and began to talk with much gesticulation on both
sides. The onlookers of course could hear nothing of what was said, but
from the pantomime Tony appeared to be expostulating, advising,
entreating. Mr. Hedderwick seemed to be in a condition of irate panic.
As a matter of fact, Tony was remonstrating with his comrade-in-arms for
his cowardice, and urging him, for the sake of himself and the sex, to
make a stand for the rights of man. "If you give in now, after your many
heroisms with me," said Tony warmly, "I shall be ashamed of my pupil and
disown him. Come! though you _have_ run, it's not too late for a
recovery."
"You don't know my wife!" panted Robert.
"I do--I've spoken to her for three minutes, and I can guess what she's
like. I know something about women, and I feel sure that if you stand up
to her now you'll be boss in your house for good. If not, she will. It's
now or never."
"You--you're not joking, Mr. Wild?" said Robert piteously.
"I'm really serious. Now, come along with me and talk to these people.
We'll let your wife catch us here. An audience ought to give you
courage. Mind!" he added, holding Robert by the arm as they began to
walk toward the aeroplane, "there must be no weakening, however terrible
she may appear. Be a man, and you'll triumph!"
It was all very well to urge him to be a man, but Mr. Hedderwick had
been through a very tense six hours. When he escaped from the vicarage
he rushed straight for The Happy Heart. There he instructed Mr. Glew in
a sentence of some five hundred words, without so much as a comma
intervening, that he meant to retire to his room at once, that he was to
be denied to all callers, that casual inquirers were to be told that he
had gone to the station, that on no account must any one be allowed to
come up-stairs, and that information was to be given when the coast was
clear. "I'll explainitalllaterglewwhenihavetimebutrememberthatit's
afiverinyourpocketifIcomethroughto-daysafe," he babbled, dashing furiously
up-stairs. "Right, sir," responded Glew, a creature to whom the word
"fiver" was all that was necessary by way of present explanation.
Robert's bedroom door slammed and was locked behind him long before the
"Right, sir" had died away.
The visit of Mrs. Hedderwick and the vicar's wife made matters fairly
clear to the landlord; but, true to his salt and interest, he persisted
in the tale that Robert had gone to the station. His story was
disbelieved. This was not to be wondered at, considering the paucity of
his inventive powers and imagination; for Glew did not adduce a particle
of corroborative detail to support his statement. The ladies simply
declined to give him credence, and demanded to be shown Mr. "Bangs'"
bedroom. Foiled in this amiable purpose, the determined pair announced
their intentions of waiting in the parlor till the victim appeared. The
landlord's renewed protests and offers of affidavits had no weight with
them, and they sat down with an awful dignity.
At two o'clock Mrs. Peters' weariness conquered her curiosity, and she
went home, offering unbounded sympathy and a bed for the night. The
sympathy was accepted, the bed declined, Mrs. Hedderwick declaring she
would remain at the inn, if necessary sitting up in a chair till
morning.
Glew had no wish for this, and cast about him for means of getting rid
of the undesired guest. At six o'clock he sent his hopeful son
up-stairs, himself keeping guard over the parlor from the bar opposite.
Young Glew found Robert desperate: he had not thought his wife capable
of such obstinacy.
"Dad says," began the interested youngster, "that he'll go in and talk
to the lady--keep her occupied like--if you'd care to risk it and slip
out."
"I will!" said Robert on the instant. Anything was better than this
terrible suspense. "Let me see ... there's a train in half an hour or
so ... I'll go to the station. No! I won't! Wait a minute!"
He changed his resolve, partly from quixotic, partly from selfish
reasons. He did not like to leave Tony to an unknown, unguessed-at fate;
and he also felt very strongly that he would like that judicious
schemer's advice on his next steps. He resolved to risk all and boldly
apply for admittance to The Quiet House. If matters there were really
serious ... well, at all events they could not be much more serious to
him than the present _impasse_. "I'll do it!" he declared with a sudden
resolution. "Boy! when you get your father alone, tell him I've gone up
to The Quiet House. I'll write to him from there. Now go down and ask
him to talk to my--to the lady. Beg him to stand in the doorway and fill
it up. I'll creep quietly past in ten minutes' time."
The boy obeyed, and after ten palpitating minutes Robert stole
cautiously down-stairs. True to his promise, the landlord's bulky figure
blocked the parlor door, his voice raised in mournful reiteration and
appeal. Robert reached the fifth step from the bottom without making
the slightest noise. But the stair-rod of the fifth step had worked
loose: the carpet slipped, and he tumbled down with considerable uproar.
Luckily he was unhurt by the fall; but the landlord's sharp turn of the
head and expression of dismayed surprise, coupled with the din, roused
Mrs. Hedderwick's suspicion. "What is that?" she demanded querulously,
trying to push past the landlord. At the terrific tones Robert jumped up
and took to his heels.
His wife had common sense and did not attempt to follow, knowing she
could not hope to catch the fugitive. She knew, too, that Glew was
incorruptible. But as the landlord walked out to block the passage and
observe the escape with a sympathetic eye, she turned to Master Glew and
said decisively, "Here is half-a-crown if you can tell me where he has
gone."
"Quiet House," said the guileless lad without hesitation, and pocketed
the coin. Mrs. Hedderwick left the inn at once.
After inquiry from a passer-by she reached her destination, a quarter
of an hour behind the peccant Hedderwick. She walked up the drive, and
beheld the unsuspecting Robert pouring out his grief to Tony. They were
sitting in the hammock-chairs.
Robert gave a cry and fled once more. Tony courteously waited and
implored Mrs. Hedderwick to sit down and rest. "There is a
misunderstanding," he said urbanely; "it shall be my pleasure to set it
right." Filled with shame of his sex, determined to vindicate Robert's
manhood and obtain for him a peaceful mastership, he ran after him,
catching him outside the grounds as has already been described.
Mrs. Hedderwick, however, was not content to wait. She did not run--no!
no! perish so undignified a thought: but she proceeded very swiftly
indeed in the wake of Tony. "A smooth-spoken hypocrite!" she thought
ungratefully, remembering Mrs. Peter's description of Robert's
accomplice during their mutual vigil. "If I only get a chance I'll give
him a piece of my mind, too!" She ran--I apologize: she proceeded very
swiftly--through the garden, and presently saw Tony disappear in the
distance through a wicket-gate. At a convenient interval of time she
followed. In front of her, a field ahead, she saw Tony and her husband
standing still, their arms waving furiously. In a moment they began to
walk on again, toward a little group which she now observed for the
first time. Mrs. Hedderwick slackened her pace, not because her desire
of vengeance was cooling, but because she did not wish to appear in a
panting state. She saw the two men come to the group, and some