CHAPTER XX.

THE BROUGHAM

I am afraid that, in my nature somewhere, there must be a touch of the original savage. It is a painful thing to have to admit, but when one is so full of faults, as I confessedly am, I fancy that one or two, more or less, can hardly make much difference. I only know that, when I saw that person go flying over the back of his own stall, I was obliged to Mr Hammond for having sent him there. More, a good deal more!--I should not have minded if he had sent a good many of the people round us after him, especially--in spite of his age--that barefaced old man on the other side of the vinegary little woman, who, under cover of the excitement which immediately ensued, came to my side, and took my hand in his, and began to look at me in a fashion, and to say things, which made me burn with a desire to throw him into the middle of the band.

Of course there was a disturbance. All the people in the theatre jumped to their feet; the band ceased playing; the performance on the stage stopped also. Shouts and noises came from all parts of the building. Half-a-dozen men came towards us as quickly as the cramped space permitted. Mr Hammond confronted them as coolly as you please; he could keep his presence of mind.

“Only gave the fellow a taste of what he deserves. Chap who behaves like a blackguard to a woman wants drowning. Sorry, though, to have had to make a mess with him in a place like this.”

Attendants seemed to be advancing on us from all sides. Suddenly I found that Basil Carter was standing in front of me. He was white with anxiety, or agitation, or rage, or something. He began to order me about as if I were a child.

“Miss Norah, come up to my box, at once. Mr Hammond, I shall call you to a personal account for this.”

That fired me.

“Account! Why should you call him to account? He has merely marked his sense of an insult which was offered me. Do you consider that he is to blame for that?”

“There is a right and wrong way of doing that sort of thing, Miss Norah, as Mr Hammond knows. Will you be so good as to come up into my box?”

That ridiculous Mr Hammond turned to me--his tenacity of purpose, in his own absurd way, was wonderful.

“Miss Norah, you’ll give me an answer before you go!”

“If it had not been for the almost insane manner in which you have behaved, there might never have been this trouble. That is the answer I give you, and that is the only one you ever will receive.”

I marched off. In the corridor I found myself in the company of the four. I was in a towering passion, and they also were in a rage, each in his own way.

“The man is a scoundrel--perfect scoundrel--ought to be treated as such!”

This was the Major.

“Who is a scoundrel, Major Tibbet?”

“Man Hammond--regular ruffian!”

“I should recommend you to go back and tell him so. You will find that, in the proceedings which will follow, he will be disposed to do his share.”

“He hasn’t behaved well, Miss Norah--really, he hasn’t!” This was Mr Rumford; his manner I should describe as cattish. There was something about him which reminded me of an elderly tabby. “Hoodwinked us in a most ungentlemanly manner. Induced us to entrust him with you, on what were absolutely false pretences. He really did.”

“If that is so, I am more indebted to him than I imagined. That is all I can say, Mr Rumford.”

“It isn’t fair of you to say such things, Miss Norah.” Mr Purchase had the audacity to say that. “You came with us as our common guest----”

“Please don’t speak of me as your common guest, or as your guest at all, Mr Purchase.”

“You purposely twist my words. You know perfectly well----”

“I know perfectly well that I wish to have nothing to say to you, nor do I wish you to have anything to say to me--thank you very much indeed, Mr Purchase. Gentlemen, I need not trouble you to come any farther--I am going home.”

“Going home!” cried Mr Carter. “You are coming to my box, Miss Norah.”

“I am going to do nothing of the kind.”

“But, Miss Norah, surely you will not punish us because of Hammond’s misconduct; surely----”

“Do not trouble yourself to say anything more, Mr Carter; and be so good as to understand me clearly. I am indebted to you, separately and collectively, for a very unpleasant evening. I will not apportion the blame among you; I will leave you to do that yourselves. I can only say that had I known what sort of persons you were I should not have trespassed on your generosity, in search--in vain search--of an evening’s entertainment. You have already caused me to be a principal figure in a most disagreeable scene; you see how, thanks to you, the people are staring at me now--it’s a wonder the police do not turn me out! Being fearful lest you may drag me into another, I will say good-evening to you now--and thank you very much. Please do not come with me another inch.”

“But, Miss Norah, you will at least allow us to see you home.”

“See me home!--you! I would sooner ride with a cabman on his box.”

“But you have no carriage!”

“I have no omnibus, you mean. It’s a kind of vehicle I never cared about. If you persist in following me I shall have to appeal to the attendants for protection. There are cabs. I will get one for myself.”

Someone touched me on the arm. It was the girl who had been in the brown man’s box. She looked up at me with the most lovely smile, speaking in the sweetest voice:

“Perhaps you will allow me to relieve you of that difficulty. I have a carriage at the door. It is at your service to take you home.”

“It is very good of you to make me such an offer, but I could not think of troubling you--of putting you to so much inconvenience.”

“There will be no inconvenience, and no trouble. I have some friends here with whom I am going on. If you don’t use it it will go home empty, so it may as well take you.”

“But--the gentleman who was with you in the box?”

“My brother?” Somehow I was pleased to hear that the brown man was her brother. “He is looking for my friends; you needn’t worry about him. Come, I’ll show you which my carriage is.”

She laid her hand lightly on my arm. All at once I found myself walking at her side, as if we were old acquaintances. The four stood staring after us. It was quite a comfort to be walking with a woman, after being the observed of all those men--particularly as she was so pretty and so beautifully dressed. As we went she talked--always with that lovely smile.

“You’re a girl of many adventures.”

“To-night I am--too many.”

“Oh, I don’t know. A girl can’t have too many adventures, especially if they’re amusing ones. Do you think she can? There isn’t a man in the theatre who has eyes for anyone but you.”

“It’s not my fault. I’d almost rather they hadn’t any eyes at all.”

She laughed, as if something I had said had tickled her.

“It’s not good wishing that; they have--big ones where a women is concerned. There is my carriage. The commissionaire will open the door for you; I didn’t bring a footman. Tell them where to drive. Good-night. No thanks! Delighted it’s of use to you.”

I left her at the top of the steps which led into the street. At the foot a brougham was standing. As I went down the steps she signalled to the porter, or commissionaire, or whatever he was, who, I suppose, was attached to the theatre. He held the brougham door open for me to enter. I stepped in, waving my hand to her in farewell greeting, and the door was closed. I gave the commissionaire my address, leaned back among the cushions--lovely cushions they were, like down to one’s back!--congratulating myself on having got rid of my late companions, and of being in the possession of so charming a conveyance. Jane’s shoes were pinching me cruelly. I was thinking to myself that since, fortunately, I was alone, I should be able to take them off at once--even if I had to enter the house barefooted. The brougham moved off. I took it for granted that we had started, and was already leaning forward to take off those wretched shoes--the agony they were occasioning me seemed to have suddenly become more intense than ever--when, before we could have gone more than three or four yards, with a little jerk we stopped. The door was opened, someone came floundering in, the door was shut with a bang; we were off again--this time at a good round pace, which plainly meant business.

They say that women are fond of italics and notes of exclamation, and I daresay I am fonder of them than I ought to be--it is so convenient to put a mark which expresses a great deal without your having to go to the trouble of explaining just what. But all the italics and notes of exclamation put together would be incapable of even hinting at what my feelings were when I realised that the object who had come blundering in upon my privacy was the bald-headed creature who had been sitting on the other side of the sour little woman. The discovery of his identity set my brain--which had been settling down into a condition of normal quiescence--in a whirl again. Had I been the victim of a deep-laid plot? What was the meaning of the wretch’s presence there?

His demeanour, the words with which he addressed me, the matter-of-fact air with which he uttered them, made the confusion worse confounded.

“The idea of finding you in here! Best joke I ever had in my life! You little dear!”

He put out his hand and felt for mine. I fancy that the rapidity with which I withdrew myself as far as possible from him into the opposite corner a little startled him.

“How dare you intrude yourself in here?”

He laughed--actually laughed.

“You can carry things off with an air. I thought you could, by the way you treated that chap who tried to spoon you--in the middle of the stalls. He had a nerve. It was as good as a play to watch him. Not that I blame him for wanting to spoon you--there isn’t a man living who wouldn’t draw a blank cheque for the chance of doing it. You little sweet!”

I hurled back the hand, which again came out towards me, with a degree of force which I imagine rather shook his ancient frame.

“Be so good as to stop the carriage, and at once get out!”

“Get out?”

“Certainly, sir--get out!”

“Get out of my own carriage?”

“Your own carriage?” A wild thought rushed through my mind. Was it possible that that lovely lady could have been playing me a trick? I had heard of the deceitfulness of women--and seen, alas! too much; there was a good deal of deceit practised in the bosom of my own family, but that would be to surpass all bounds. It was incredible. Such double dealing could not be! “It’s not your carriage. It’s the brown man’s sister’s!”

“The brown man’s sister’s? And who is the brown man’s sister? For the matter of that, who’s the brown man?”

“I don’t know her name--I don’t know either of their names--but it’s hers. I know it’s hers--she told me it was hers!”

“Did she? Then she could tell ’em. Some folks can.” He winked at me--one of those disgraceful winks of which he was so fond. “I tell you that this carriage is mine--mine! Or rather, it’s my wife’s. I presented it to her--with my love. If you want to have any peace at all you’re obliged to give your wife things--at intervals. What you’ve got to do is to make the intervals as long as you can. Between ourselves, my wife is waiting for it now--on the pavement. She’ll be getting anxious. She soon gets anxious, does Maria. When she finds out what has become of it--if she ever does find out--the mercury’ll run up the thermometer at a rate that’ll burst the whole machine. I know. I’ve had it happen before, and found it most expensive. That’s when the intervals recur.” The dreadful being winked again. “But this time I shan’t mind. When I noticed, in the theatre there, the friendly way in which you received those little movements of my eyelids I had my hopes, but they never went as far as this. You little pet!”

Out came the hand, and back it went--quicker than it came.

“Will you keep yourself to yourself, sir? Did you dare for one moment to suggest that I encouraged you in your insolent behaviour?”

“Never know what a woman calls encouragement. But when you find her waiting for you in your own wife’s brougham, it does--well, it does look as if something was meant, doesn’t it?”

“Do you venture to insinuate that I got into your wife’s carriage knowing it was here, and that you were coming into it?”

“Now, my dear, don’t let’s ask each other questions. I’m used to being put through my catechism; it happens every day of my life. Do let’s be sociable.”

“Be so good as to stop the carriage--your wife’s carriage--this instant. If you won’t get out of it, I will.”

“Not if I know it. Now you’re unreasonable. Whatever happens now, I shall get it hot. I may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.”

“It’s a matter of complete indifference to me for what you’re hung, so long as you are hung. If you won’t stop the carriage, then I shall.”

“No, you don’t.”

He moved towards me with a degree of agility which was incredible to his multitudinous years.

“Man!” I cried.

Putting my hand upon his shoulder I drove him back against the cushions with a degree of vigour which nearly sent him through them. I think it occasioned him surprise. For the moment he seemed to be able to do nothing else but gasp.

I daresay I should have stopped the carriage, only just at that moment another brougham came tearing along, which, the moment it passed, was drawn right across our path. We stopped, perforce, with a jerk, and, I suspect, with remarks from our driver. The other stopped also, somebody jumped out, and there, standing in the road, looking in at us, was the brown man.