CHAPTER XXX. AN OLD FRIEND.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 243, 25 February 1888, Page 6

CHAPTER XXX. AN OLD FRIEND.

It was about a couple of months aftor this Ghat Fred Foster was one morning walking in towards tho town of Scarborough carelessly switching ab tho way side weeds with his cane, and apparently thinking hard. Indeed, so pre-occupied was that ho would probably have allowed a smart little chaise, drawn by a pair of small ponies, to havo passed unnoticed, had not the solitary occupant of tho vehicle pulled up, and rai/hor timidly pronounced his name. She was a woman of about thirty, stylishly dressed in » driving-coat of silver-grey plush, and beef-eater hat of the same material ; and ahe would have been distinctly good-looking had she only let her face alone. But her desperate efforts to appear ten years younger than she really was were somewhat too obvious ; her abundant yellow hair looked bleached : and her lips, that wore a trifle thin and hard in expression, owed something, it is to be feared, to artificial aid. And yeh, notwithstanding tho aggressive character of her | thin features and steady blue eyes, she was now regarding Fred Foster with considorj ablo doubt, us if she was uncertain as to how he would answer her appeal. " Oh, how do you do ?" he said, rather coldly. She shifted the whip, and familiarly held out her right hand. " Therfc— let bygones be bygones." "1 havo no objection," ho said, and he stepped forward and took her hand for a moment. " Who could have expected to meet you here ? I thought you lived at Doncaster." "One word," she interposed. "Have you heard anything about me lately ?" "No: I haven't been about much," he said, evasively. "Then you may as well call me Mrs Fairservice again, if you don't mind." "What?" ho said. "You don't mean that ? Have you and Bernard " "Oh, don't calk to me about Charlie Bernard," she again interposed, with a scornful little laugh. " I had enough of Charlie Bernard. I found him out in the end. Why, if you only knew what a hound he is -But, there, we won't speak about him. You never thought much of him ?" "I had no great reason to think much of him," remarked Foster, who was too <?hrewd a man of the world to say anything definite. He knew that this fair dame had a pretty violent temper ; and no doubt there had been a quarrel— which very likely i might get patched up again. " And you ?" she said, scanning him j from head to foot with her cold scrutinising eyes. "You don 'fc seem over-flourishing. I heard you got into Queer street?" "You heard right, then," ho answered i rather gloomily. " And you, of all men in the world !" she said, with a sardonic little laugh. "I wonder how you like being hard up. I should be curious to see how you bear it. Somehow I can't imagine your living up a tree. It doesn't seem natural. I suppose you swear a good deal ?' " Oh, I assure you it is not a laughing matter," he retorted, a little bit nettled. " No, no, I didn't mean that," she said at once. " Come, tell me what you aio doing n Scarborough." i "I have juat been out to Holkley Hall. Raby is there just now— you remember Captain Raby ?" "Of course I do." " Well, he's trying to fix things together for me. You may laugh as you like, but living the life of a badger in a hole is rather monotonous. And it wasn't through any fault of mine that I got into this mess. It was Cherry-band that broke me — of course you heard'of tho drugging of Cherry-band ? Oh, I can tell you, I have had some rare experiences of human nature since then. I never had a high and mighty opinion of my fellow-creatures ; but it was little I knew how mean they could be until I got broke." "Yes, on tho turf it is every man for himself and the devil catch the hindmost." Bub she did not seem interested in what she was saying, or in what he was saying either. As he went on to detail his woes and wrongs, aho listened in silence, looking | at him from time to time, as if she was pondering over somo very different matters. At length she said abruptly — " Will you dine with me to-night?" He hesitated. " Are you at an hotel ?" " Yes," she said, and she named the hotel. "Do you mean the table d'hotcl" Bhe asked, with an involuntary look downwards at his attire, which was none of the smartest. She instantly understood his hesitation. "No, wo will 'dine j,n- my sitting-room. Come as you are, _ of , course. At seven, that we may have a«balk afterwards. Is it a bargain?" " Very well — thank you," he said. " Mind, it is, Mrs Fairservice you ask for. Good-bye jusb nbw.", And . therewith she touched the ponied, and drove on. Towards seveSi o'clock that evening he made himself as ' brim as was possible and went along, to the hotel, where he found Mrs Fairsei'vfce, very elegantly attired,. and apparently' in" a merry mood. Glancing at 'the table", .he saw that it was .laid' for two. /' ' ' ." ' ■ ' V You have no one with you ?" he asked. \ l . Oh, dear, no ; ,I,'jbhink I can take care of. myself.," she answered, blandly. "And they know me at this hotel." She. Had ordered a neat little, dinner for him, and was evidently wel^ acquainted with men's tastes. The things vrere.all good of their kind, but nob too .numerous ; there, was ho dawdling over sweets;, the wines were excellent;" and awaiting' him there lay on, tho mantol piece half-a-dozen cigars— not greeny-grey, nor foxy-red, nor black with bitterness, nor veined with oil, but (when stripped of their silver-foil arid tissue paper) plump, smooth, softly-brown Cabanas* with promise of supernal joy. " I can hardly help laughing," she said, when together they were seated at the table, " bo think of Masber Fred being up a tree. Honestly now, did you ever deny yourself anything ?" " Never when I could got it," he answered, frankly. " What is the use ?" " You're married, ain't you ?" " Yes." ** Where's your wife?" "In Surrey— Witstead— near Epsom." " How does she get on ?" " What do you moan ?" " Who supports her ? You can't, I know." " Oh, she has money from 1 hey father, and Svoni my father tooi* That is a pretty joke: To spite me, I suppose, the old gentleman prefers to pay over my allowance to her. But it's the same thing in the end." " Yes, I should imagine so," she said, drily. " What do you think of that Chablis ?" " It is very good indeed." "They told mo it was." "But why don't you take any?" he asked. "Well," she answered, "I have had some vexations to get through lately, and I

find that wine keeps the brain too mtfch alive to these things — especially if you are lying awake a*> night. I don'fe worry so much when I keep to water." 41 Don't you drink wine at all, then ?" " Sometimes I havo a little charhpagtvc. Here, waiter, open that bobrle." "Yes, my lady." "What worries have you had?" Fred Foster asked — with that masculine disregard of tho presence of servants which women nevor acquire. " I will tell you presently," said Mrs Fairsovvico. with a discreet wink. But even when the waiter had gone from the room she seemed to wish to keep away from that topic. Indeed, they had a great* many things and persons to talk over ; and among them a topic to which MrsFairservice pertinaciously, and Fred Foster most unwillingly, returned was his wife. "What kind of a woman is she?" his companion asked frankly. " Oh, she's a good enough sort," he answered with some reluctance. "Rather Joffcy in her notions semetimes, for the humble likes of me. Brought up among philanthropic fads, and that kind of thing. Why, I believe, if she had a sixpence to spare, she would sooner send it to the soupkitchens at Westminster than spend it on her own child." " What ?" Mr.s Fairservioe cried, with a burst of rather thin-tinkling laughter. " You don't mean to say you are a papa?" "Yes, lam." " Well, well, well. Wonders will never cease. To think of Master Fred being a father. You don't look it, somehow. Bufc about your wife— l heard she was the daughter of a swell ?" "I don't know what you call a swell," he said, rather sulkily. " She is the daughter of Sir Anthony Zembra, who is the meanest cur in these three kingdoms. However, I'm going to have all that put to rights as soon as I can go south. I'm nob going to stand it any longer. There's my father, who i.s a poor man, gives more than Zembra does. But that will soon be put straight. Kaby is patching up my affairs. And when I get down south, I'm going to have a little settlement with Air Snthony Zembra. I'm not going to support bis daughter." Mrs Fairservice deliberately put down her knife and fork. "You are not going to support Msdaughter," she slowly repeated. " Well you are a most delightful wag !" But tho quick glance of anger that? hedartedat her showed thatshe had gone tcoiar — or else that he had drunk too much champagne ; so she instantly changed her manner, and began to prophesy smooth things ; and to say that Anthony Zembra, if approached in tho proper way, woald of course come to the aid of his sori-in-law. Dinner over, coffee was brought in ; and she herself fetched him a cigar, which he lit, drawing his chair a little bit back from the table. She went and stood by the fireplace, her back to the empty grate. Wher» the waiter had removed the things, and they were once more left alono, she said ; " Now I am going to tell you something. Perhaps you won't be surprised. You say you have had some experience lately off human nature — meanness, and that. Well, 80 have I. What would you say, now, if £ told you that it was Charlie Bernard whothrew vie. over ?" There was a curious smile on her lips, somewhat belied by the look in her eyes. "I should say you had had a quarrel,** said Foster, prudently, " which you will soon make up again." " There was no quarrel," she said, with an increasing harshness in her voice. "Hedeliberately threw me over — left me — for some barmaid or other at Chester — going to* marry her, I hear ! And I made that man I What was he five years ago ? You know. Scarce enough to buy himself a toothpick. And there at the Ackworth sale last week he gave 1,200 guineas for Trigonella and 800 for Master of Koy. Two thousand guineas at one sale — how did he come by that, do you think ?" "He has had the devil's own luck,'* Foster said, pensively. "Everything hehas touched has turned to gold." "And who put him in the way of making- | a single farthing ?" she demanded. ' ' Luck? i What is your luck if you've nothing to back it with ? You know well enouch what I did! for that man. Well ? Don't you think I take it very quietly ? You used to gird ab me because of my temper. Am lia a j tempor ?" ! He looked at her. "I don't know," he said. "But if yon got a chance of doing Charlie Bernard \ a mischief, I shouldn't like to be in his shoes !" " Vitriol - throwing ?" she said, with a harsh laugh. "Oh, no, I won't spoil his beauty — I'll leave that to the barmaid, and welcome." And then, with a surprising suddenness, she stepped forward to the table, and I put her clenched fist on it ; her eyes -were sparkling with rage, and her face was thin and hard and white. •' No," she said, with a fury that was all the more obvious from her efforts to conceal it, " I won't spoil his beauty, but I'll ruin him. I tell you I won't rest in my grave until I have ruined that man. I made him ; and I'll break him !" "You won't find it easy to get the better of Charlie Bernard," Foster observed. , "Bah! That's all you know," she said, contemptuously. " That's all you know. But I understand Charlie Bernard down to his boots ; and I tell you he's a fool. He thinks ho can't go wrong. The luck has peen with him so long that his head's turned. And that's where I'll have my gentleman, see if I don't 1" She resumed her station by the fire-place. That sharp ebullition of rage over,' she strove to appear perfectly calm. But her mouth was cruel. " And how do you propose to get afc him?" Foster asked. " That's my affair," she said, shortly. " But 1 don't mind telling you that I mean it, I shouldn't mind telling all the world ; for I daresay Charlie Bernard himself has a shrewd notion thab I will do my little best. And I haven't been in all his stable secrets for over four years for nothing." And then she said, looking hard at him. " Of course I should want somebody to stand in with me. I couldn't appear myself. Charlie Bernard is conceited ; but he is wary enough j and he'll be watching me for many a day to come. No ; I must have a trustworthy agent to do the trick for me ; and if we pulled it off, it would bo well I worth his while." That she was referring to himself was clear enough. " But I don't quite understand what you are driving at," he said. "Do you mean fair means or foul?" - "I didn't know bhero was any .difference on the turf," she said, saucily. " Well, t have no reason to be nasty particular," he said, with a laugh. "I don'b see why you shouldn't hit back with tho same kind of stick that hits you. If nobbling is to be the game, ib shouldn't be all on ono side. Bub it's & very dangeroua game ; and nob often tried nowadays ; afc least, ib doesn't succeed very often. They managed ib pretty well with Cherry-band, though." "Well, what do you say?" shocked, abruptly.

«• Oh, I'm nob in it. You must look out ior somebody else. I'm broke. Of conVse you want somebody who can weigh in with coin." She paused for a second or two. " I don't know' about that. Of course I shouldlike tohavo someonegoin equal risks with me, if I was quite sure that at the last minute he wouldu t play his own game, and land me. Besides, I don't know anyone I could trust. I covild trust you because it would be worth your while." "Thank you." "Oh, we'd better speak plain. I mean business this time." There was a flnsh of fire in her eyes. " I tell you if I had to soil every stick and stone I possess — if I had to sell the clothes off' my back— -I would do it to bring that man to" the gutter. And it's there ill have him, you mark my words. And I'm not in a hurry— no, no— l can wait and watch my chance. I'm not going to spoil it by lushiner it. I'm not going to show my hand until I've got the odd trick safe and sure. But then—Men. I'll let him know. What will he tako to, do you think ? I should like to oec him a billiard-marker atGatti's." She rang the bell. " I beg your pardon— l forgot to ask for liqueurs.' 1 • f I would rather have a braudy-and-soda," he said. •♦ Very well," she said, and that was ordered. Then she went over and sat down by the table. In her eagerness she seemed to tike it for granted that Foster was willing to become her alley. "Do you know Joe Cantly?" she said, when the waiter had biought in the brandy-and-soda, and gone away again. " Only to speak to." "If we could only make suro of Joe Cantly, the whole thing would be as simple as possible. Bernard and he aro hand and glove in everything. But he would be, a difficult customer to get at. He prides himself on his professional honour 1" "What?" Foster exclaimed. "Why, they declare he roped Eedhampton at Liverpool. " "It's a lie," she said, bluntly. "I was there. He no more pulled the horse than I did. All the stable were backing him, Cantly as well. No, I believe Joe Cantly has so far ridden as fair and square as any jock that ever breathed." "Every man hi* price," Foster said, as he went to the mantelpiece for another cigar. " Yes, but I imagine Joe Cantly's price is rather beyond me. There might be other means," she added, musingly. Foster looked up; but neither spoke nor smiled. What he said to himself, however, was— "Does this woman really think she has youth and beauty enough to inflame the heart of that little shred of a jock ?" "Gratitude doesn't count, I suppose," she continued. "And yet he ought to be grateful to me. Why, he was only a stable lad whqn I went first to Doncaster. It was I who got the General to give him a first mount, because I liked the look of the hoy. I wish I could have an hour's talk with him,' just to see whether his devotion to my dear friend Charlie Bernard is of an unusual kind." And then she said, •' Well, aie you going to stand in with me?" " I should like to know more distinctly what you're aiming at," he said. "Do you expect I can put it all down on paper at a moment's notice ?" she retorted. "Well, yes, I could. I'm aiming at the ruin of Mr Charles Bernard ; that's about it ; and it's got to be done, if a woman can do it. You mean the way of doing it? Well, that wants time. But I know this, that it is bad luck that makes most men reckless, but it is good luck that makes Bernard reckless. He'll back his fancy through thick and thin ; no hedging for him ; no, no ; my gentleman knows a horse when he sees one. The sporting papers have turned his head, that's the fact. He thinks he is bound to be right. And he is conceited ; arid knows that bier figures make the stable-boys gape. There's but the one end for a man like that— when it is properly prepared for him. Now do you understand ?" " It has been done," he said absently. " When do you go up to town ?" This startled him oat of his reverie. " I don't know quite. I went out to see Raby this morning. He has been trying to square things alittle for me— and there's a young fellow called Russell who has turned out a bit of a trump " " I am going back to Doncaster tomorrow," she said. And in about three weeks' time I expect to be in Loudon. If you are there then, call on me at the •Northern Counties Hotel, ■ Jermyn-fctreet. You won't forget the address V He pencilled it down in his memorandumbook. " There are some writs out against me, that's the fact," he aaid. "And people are bo unreasonable. Of course you can't give them money if you haven't got ifc ; all the summonses and county courts and writs in the world won't create money Trhere it doesn't happen to be." ♦•Ah, well, of course," laid Mrs Fairservice, who was a business-like woman, "if you are in so hard a hole as that, if you .can't get about, it's hardly worth while talking about that little scheme. But you «ay things may mend. Well, come and see me in Jermyn-street if they do. 1^ may have something to tell you by that time — something to your advantage, as the advertisements say. You look as if you wanted it, don't you, Master Fred ?" Presently he rose to go ; and ihe insisted on his putting the remaining cigars in his pocket On the top of the staircase, as she bade him good-bye, she said, u Jermyn-street, then, Au revoir /" (To he Contiawd. )