Читать книгу The Councillors Of Falconhoe - Fred M. White - Страница 5

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The angry colour of Inez's cheeks bred of Jelicorse's pointed question died away and a pleased delighted surprise lighted her eyes.

"Peggy Pevensey," she cried. "And Joan, too. Ah, how the sight of you brings it all back."

Two girls stood smiling there, two girls exactly alike save for the fact that one was fair with blue eyes and the other of a darker hue with hazel hair and eyes to match. They were rather small, with slender figures, smiling in an audacious way like schoolboys on some adventure, but proclaiming breed and blood in every line of them. The fine, dainty features clean cut, the little mouths and the short upper lips carried their own conviction. They carried with perfect naturalness the easy self-possession of caste, despite their detached air of aloofness and the fact that the hair of each was bobbed. There was something almost smacking of the convent about their plain black evening dresses, which were absolutely devoid of ornament, but the cut was there, the cachet of Paris which transforms hopsacking or the discarded sails of Thames barges into "clothes." Thus Lady Peggy and Lady Joan Pevensey, the famous twin daughters of his Grace the Duke of Fairbourne, aged twenty-four years.

"Well," Lady Peggy cried, "this is a meeting. The last time we three were together was at Ushkub in 1918. Ah, those were days. And our adventures in Serbia! There was some sort of fun in motor driving those days. And now you are a celebrity, Inez. Already the darling of a hundred opera-houses. Have you come to London to charm the ears of society? I should just love to hear you sing as you did at nights in that dreadful place, but unless you give me a free pass I shall never find the cash to pay."

With this open confession Lady Peggy dropped into a chair and helped herself deliberately to the contents of Jelicorse's cigarette case. She might have belonged to some detached world where trouble and anxiety had no being. In another chair opposite her sister smiled benignly, also with one of the man's cigarettes between her dainty lips. Nothing seemed to worry this smiling, inconsequent pair.

"Now you know all about our monetary affairs," she said in a tone that might have reached the ears of a dozen diners. "We are poor Amazons broke in the wars. Now how much do you think his grace of Fairbourne has to live on. And keep us in the style we have been accustomed to? Four thousand a year! Not a bean more. With taxes and all that sort of tosh that is all that is left. My dear Hilary, what do I care if the proletariat does hear? All the world knows it. No doubt it will all come right in the course of half a century or so, but where shall we two be then, poor things?"

"It's true, Hilary," Lady Peggy smiled as if the family cataclysm were some exquisite joke. "There is a gathering of the family clans going on in a private sitting-room upstairs from which Joan and self escaped. So we came down here to see if there was any fun moving, and fell into the hands of you two darlings. Hilary, can't you give us some sort of a Foreign Office job? Something in the spy or secret service line. Our French is perfect, and for three years just previous to 1914 we were at school in Bonne. Then nearly three years with the forces in Serbia. Be a little gentleman, Hilary, and help us, or necessity will throw us to the profiteers who made fortunes out of our calamities. I don't want to advertise myself as a girl of old ducal family, young, fair, and cultured, willing to exchange hearts with some presentable war profiteer with a million made for choice in the bacon trade. Hilary, it's very serious."

There was a certain amount of meaning behind Jelicorse's smile. He knew, nobody better, that great events were in the scale of the anguished nations, events which might never be recorded in the newspapers of the day, but which, if not checked, might set weary Europe in a blaze once more. He knew these laughing girls, too, and the fine things they had done in the past, and what high courage and daring they concealed under the mask of Comus. And he knew also what a woman might accomplish when it came to the matching of wits with a set of men fighting with their backs to the wall for all that was left of their old power and prestige and glory.

"The thing is not impossible," he murmured thoughtfully. "We are not out of the wood yet by any means. But what would his grace say to you two being sent to Austria, for instance, on some mission by no means beyond the personal danger mark?"

"My dear Hilary," Lady Joan drawled. "We are no longer in the dark ages when girls called their fathers 'papa' and spoke only when addressed. The war killed all that. Honestly, there is nothing left to Peggy and myself but bonnets and teashops. I mean as business propositions. I did have a lovely dream once of an old Tudor house in a hunting country, with some few thousand acres of shooting, with a perfectly-fitting husband to match, but what has become of him I haven't the faintest notion. If you think—"

She broke off suddenly and gripped Jelicorse by the arm.

"That man over there," she gasped. "The handsome waiter with the sad Russian eyes. Call him over here, Hilary."

The dining-room of the Agincourt was practically deserted now. It being the slack hour when most dinners were over and the tide of supper parties not as yet due. As Lady Joan pointed to the unfortunate Niel Nelson, Jelicorse understood.

"Better not worry him," he murmured. "Rather embarrassing in the circumstances. Besides, I promise you a chance of speaking to Niel Nelson in more fitting surroundings. Yes, it's poor old Niel right enough. Everything gone, no money left, no profession, and—"

"Call him over here," Lady Joan commanded imperatively.

"Oh, all right," Jelicorse shrugged. "But he won't like it. Don't forget that though he was once a baronet living in an old Tudor house in good hunting country and-er-fond of a certain lady, shall we say Ermyntrude? he is a waiter at this moment and likely to be prosaically sacked if he is detected in the act of chatting with the hotel customers. Don't be selfish, Joan."

"But, my dear man, if one isn't selfish these times, how is one going to live? Look at that poor boy with his melancholy Slav eyes, his mother's eyes, and weep for him and his class. Oh, I know that the late Lady Nelson was not of the blood, but she was a Russian princess and a darling. Come here, Niel."

Niel Nelson came eagerly and yet with lagging footsteps. He had the fear of the head waiter no longer before his eyes, in fact he had forgotten that omnipotent functionary altogether.

"Queer sort of a meeting, isn't it?" he laughed unsteadily.

Lady Joan regarded him with a watery smile. Perhaps she was thinking of the old Tudor house and the misty mornings when the scent was breast high and Niel was piloting her over a big grass country in the days which seemingly were gone for ever. And Jelicorse watched with a real sympathy for the dead romance.

There were big things coming and great chances in the near future for those who knew how to grasp the golden opportunity. Only he and one or two others knew how big the prospects were. And here was the help that the Councillors of Falconhoe needed. Jelicorse knew that he could count on Niel Nelson for one, he was sure of Inez Salviati for another. But what about these girls? The woman in international intrigue was a tradition and a sheer necessity, and the Pevensey twins had proved themselves a score of times. Were they not through the Serbian campaigns? Had they not faced worse than death over and over again without flinching? And their French and German were beyond reproach. Yes, they would do, but what would the Duke of Fairbourne have to say about it? It was at that very moment that Lady Peggy answered the question for him.

"We are so glad to see you again, Niel," she said. "So glad to mingle our patrician tears with yours, old thing. In the spacious days we went to the block together, at least our ancestors did, now we go to the workhouse together instead. Joan and myself had arranged to go chicken farming in—in Timbuctoo, wasn't it, Joan?—but Hilary Jelicorse has a better 'ole than that, or so he declares. I do hope that you are coming along."

It was all frivolous nonsense, of course, but there was a deal of feeling behind it, as Jelicorse knew, only too well.

"Pretty rotten, isn't it?" Nelson laughed. "But one has to live, and I flatter myself that I look quite nice in my waiter's kit."

"You don't," Lady Joan cried. "A blind man could see that you are a gentleman. It's a crying shame after your war record."

"Tell England," Lady Peggy interposed. "Tell England."

"I have," Nelson said. "I was telling England for four years and about ten millions of us formed the chorus. But it seems to me that Britannia is a little deaf."

"The yelling of the politicians and the screams of those wonderful journalists who could rule the world single-handed has destroyed the old lady's sense of hearing," Jelicorse remarked sarcastically. "But we are all in the same boat, Niel. And things are going to happen before long if our rulers are not wise to the signs on the political horizon. We shall want men and women to help or I am altogether wrong in my calculations. Inez will help, I know."

"That I will," Inez cried. "But for my career and those professional engagements which I have contracted—"

"I would not have those cancelled for a moment," Jelicorse interrupted. "They will help, they will throw dust in the eyes of the new foe. Sounds mysterious, but I will make it plain presently. But what will his Grace of Fairbourne say?"

"He won't say anything," Lady Joan laughed. "He is too busy scheming how to keep his dear old ducal head above water. Besides, you can't order Dames of the British Empire about like mere dutiful offspring. And, really, Hilary, you can't appreciate how bad things are with us at present. It's different with you."

"Oh, is it!" Jelicorse said grimly. "I have had to let my place for five years and the same remark applies to both Enderby and Farncombe. We have pooled resources and taken an old manor house on the high cliffs not far from the lovely village of Lynton in North Devon. Place called Falconhoe Manor House. Most secluded and romantic spot in England. There we have started as a sort of international detective agency with branches all over Europe. Parties waited upon by our own line of 'planes. Wireless to Berlin and Vienna and Rome. Our wireless must be seen to be believed."

"I'd love to," Lady Peggy cried.

"You shall," Jelicorse promised, "but not yet. Niel is coming down there, as I can find a job for him. You three might make arrangements to stay for a short time at the Windy Bay post office where they let rooms in the summer. Ideal spot and fine bathing. As we have no chaperon at the Falconhoe house we can't offer you all that hospitality. And if things go as I expect they will, there will be some well-paid posts going before long. Adventures on the continent, thrilling episodes after the manner of the creap Press, intrigues to solve, in fact the whole gamut of the sensational novel. Come in with us and prevent another European war. It's a great deal nearer than you imagine, as Count Andra Barrados could have told Inez just now if it had been worth his while."

"You mean that, Hilary?" Inez asked eagerly,

"I do indeed. That man is one of the most infernal scamps in Europe, and he is in the conspiracy up to his neck. But more of this at another time. The place is filling up with the supper crowd, and Niel will be getting into trouble. Now, if you ladles will be so good as to clear out and get back to your tents I shall be grateful. Inez is staying in the hotel, and she will follow in a few minutes. Niel, the head waiter is scowling at you."

Niel Nelson vanished discreetly, and the ladies Pevensey followed close behind. Jelicorse detained Inez for a moment.

"I asked you a question just now," he whispered. "I wanted to know where you got that emerald from. Won't you tell me?"

"Indeed not," Inez said with cold dignity. "You have no right to ask. Old friends as we are, there are limits—"

She swept past him without another word.