CHAPTER XII.

TWO SCHEMERS.

The Squire noticed an estrangement had taken place between Irene and her husband. She was too proud to allow her real feelings to appear on the surface, but he saw below it and knew there was discord somewhere.

Redmond Maynard, since his son's departure, had led a lonely life. Everyone in the county sympathised deeply with him, but he was not a man to be soothed with kindly words; on the contrary, they irritated him. He went about his daily avocations as usual, but it was evident he had lost much of the interest in his surroundings. Dr. Harding ordered a change, but the Squire protested he was in a perfect state of health, and that there was no occasion for him to leave Hazelwell. The doctor was an old and valued friend, in addition to being his medical attendant. He practised in various parts of the county, his connection being select and extensive. Dr. Harding's was a familiar figure in the hunting field, and when he could spare the time he was nothing loth to attend a race meeting. He was an excellent shot, and always had a standing invitation to join the parties at Hazelwell. Of late, however, visitors there had been few and far between, and Dr. Harding saw the Squire was gradually falling into a fit of despondency which boded ill for his health. He spoke to Irene about it, knowing the influence she had over him, and requested her to persuade him to go south for a time. This she did in her own winning way, promising Warren and herself would accompany him if he thought well.

"That is an inducement certainly, to have your company," he said. "I will think it over. I expect Harding has been putting you up to this," he added, smiling.

"Dr. Harding is only anxious about your health, and I am sure he advises you for the best," she said.

"I am aware of that," replied the Squire; "but we do not always follow the advice we ask. It is foolish, of course, and we ought to obey the doctor when we call him in. I rather fancy a change would do you good, Irene, you are not happy."

She looked troubled and said quickly--

"You are mistaken, I am perfectly happy; I have everything to make me contented."

"Has Warren been behaving himself lately?" he asked.

"He always behaves himself," was her answer.

"I am glad you think so; I do not," he said gruffly. "Warren is going the pace, and you know it."

His anxiety about Irene caused him for a time to forget his own troubles.

Eli Todd watched the Squire, and noted how worn and aged he was growing. This caused him many qualms of conscience; he knew the cause, and would have liked to remove it. He wrote a long letter to Ulick, telling him how his father's health suffered, and begging him to return. This caused him to wonder if he was doing right in remaining away. Now that he knew everything connected with Janet's disappearance from home, he felt it was impossible for him to go to Hazelwell and meet Irene, as he was sure to do. He wrote to Eli, explaining as well as he could that it was impossible for him to return at present, but circumstances might arise which would enable him to do so at no distant date. With this Eli had to rest contented, but he would have preferred something more definite.

It was shortly after the Saint's great race with Pinkerton at Kempton that the Squire came into Eli's cottage and sat down for a chat. Eli gave him full particulars of all the mares and youngsters in the stud, and said there would be some good prices realised at Doncaster in September.

"Honeysuckle's foal will be a tip-topper," said Eli. "He'll run well into four figures."

"I shall not sell him," replied the Squire.

Eli was glad to hear this; it meant the Squire thought of racing again.

"Shall you have him trained?" he asked.

"Yes, it is some time since I gave Fred May a turn. By the way, he has got hold of a champion in the Saint. That must have been a splendid race at Kempton. I wonder who Mr. Lanark is?"

"A new recruit to the turf," said Eli, smiling, "and he has made a rare good start." "He little thinks his son owns the Saint," thought Eli.

"He has got into the right hands. Fred May is thoroughly honest. Mr. Lanark, whoever he is, may congratulate himself. I wonder if he would sell the Saint?" said the Squire, half to himself.

Eli smiled; he thought it would be a curious thing if the Squire bought his son's horse. It occurred to him this might be the means of bringing them together.

"I should think it would be a difficult matter to induce him to part with him," said Eli.

"There can be no harm in trying," said the Squire. "I like the Saint's breeding; he would do well for the stud."

"Why not run down to Fred May's and see what can be done?" said Eli. "It will be a change for you."

"I think it will, and you had better come with me. I ought to write and let him know we are coming."

"I will do it to save you the trouble," said Eli.

"Very well, fix it for next Thursday, if that will suit Mr. Lanark, providing he is willing to sell," replied the Squire.

Eli cudgelled his brains how to bring about the meeting he desired. If Ulick knew his father was coming to Newmarket to see the Saint he would not be present, of that Eli felt certain. The only plan that suggested itself to him was to take Fred May into his confidence, for it was evident to Eli the trainer knew nothing of the misunderstanding between father and son. He wrote his letter after much deliberation, and anxiously awaited the reply. It came by return of post, and in it the trainer plainly showed how astonished he was at the breach between them.

"I will do all in my power to help you to heal it," he wrote, "but I am afraid we shall get into trouble. Neither the Squire nor his son like being dictated to, and they will probably think we have taken a liberty. However, we will risk it. Bring him on Thursday, and I'll see that his son is here, you can leave that to me. If we can effect a reconciliation we shall have done much good. The Saint is an extraordinarily good colt, equal to the best Derby form, and I am very glad I advised Mr. Maynard to buy him. Tell the Squire there is no price upon him, but that Mr. Lanark will be delighted to see him and show him his champion, and one or two more he has in my stable."

Eli sent a note up to the Squire stating the matter was arranged, and they had better go to London on the Wednesday, and on to Newmarket next day.

To this arrangement he agreed, and sent Bob Heather with a letter to tell Irene of his intention.

"If you and Warren come to town I will meet you at the Walton Hotel on Friday."

Irene sent back a reply to the effect that they would be there, as Warren had to go up to town again at the end of the week.

When Ulick received a letter from his trainer requesting him to go to Newmarket on Wednesday, he hastened down at once, fearing something might have gone wrong with the Saint.

"He's all right," said Fred May, in reply to Ulick's anxious inquiries, "but I have some rather startling news for you. A gentleman is coming to see him to-morrow; he wishes to buy him. I thought you would have no objection to showing him the Saint yourself."

Ulick laughed as he replied, "He is coming on a useless errand; I would not sell him at any price."

"Never refuse a good offer," said Fred May.

"Surely you would not like to lose him?" he replied.

"Certainly not, but I should advise you all the same to take a stiff price."

"Don't you think he will stand training?"

"Not a shadow of doubt about that," was the trainer's reply.

"Then I shall not part with him. Who is the gentleman?"

"I am not quite sure, but I fancy he is rather an exalted person," said Fred, mysteriously.

"You have brought me down on a wild-goose chase," laughed Ulick. "You don't even know the name of the intending purchaser. I am surprised at you, Fred; however, I forgive you. I am always glad of an excuse to run down to Newmarket and have a gallop on the Heath."

The Squire and Eli came by an early train, and arrived at Stanton House, the trainer's residence, unseen by Ulick, who happened to be reading the paper in Fred May's room.

After a few words of welcome with his old patron, the trainer said he would tell Mr. Lanark they were here, and left the room. Eli felt very uncomfortable; he wondered if there would be an explosion. He had agreed with Fred May that it would be better to leave them alone together.

The door opened, and the trainer said, "This is Mr. Lanark, I think you know him?"

Father and son were face to face, and, taking advantage of their astonishment and consternation, the trainer and Eli beat a retreat, wondering how their plot would succeed.

For a few moments neither of them spoke. Both knew they had been brought together by Eli and the trainer. At last a smile came over the Squire's face, and he said, as he held out his hand, "We have been caught cleverly, Ulick, and I trust it is all for the best; it is a long time since we met, my boy." His voice shook at the finish, and this touched Ulick; he noticed how his father had changed, he seemed much older, and his face more worn. He clasped his hand and said--

"We have both suffered; it was all a mistake." He seemed at a loss for words. Had his father decided to do him justice, or did he still suspect him? It would be impossible for him to return to Hazelwell at present, and be constantly meeting Warren and his wife; that was more than he could endure, and yet he was unable to explain the reason to his father.

"So you are Mr. Lanark," said the Squire, laughing more heartily than he had done for many a day.

Eli and the trainer, listening like two guilty schoolboys in the hall, heard him, and the former said, joyfully--

"It's all right, Fred, that's the Squire's laugh, and right glad I am to hear it."

"It's splendid," said Fred, as he rubbed his hands in high glee; "we must crack a bottle over this, Eli, come along."

"I am Mr. Lanark," said Ulick, "and I own the Saint, but he is not for sale," he added, smiling.

"Never mind the horse at present; tell me what you have been doing," said the Squire.

"Living quietly in a flat in West Kensington, and doing a little racing," replied Ulick.

"Not quite so pleasant as Hazelwell?" inquired his father.

"There is no place quite like Hazelwell to my mind," said his son. "I was fearfully dull and miserable at first, but I have become fairly used to it now."

"You will come back to our home?" was the next question.

Ulick looked troubled; what could he say, how make an excuse?

"There is no occasion to hesitate," said the Squire. "Return with me to-day; the flat can look after itself."

The temptation was great. He thought of Hazelwell and all it meant to him; then he thought of Irene. If he was constantly in Warren's company he felt he must betray himself. Better to stay away, far better for all of them.

"I cannot return to-day, father," he said, quietly. "I have very good reasons for not doing so. Trust me, believe in me; I am acting for the best, as one day you will discover."

The Squire's face clouded. "He dare not face us all after what he has done," was his thought. He sighed heavily, and his son knew what it meant.

"You still believe me guilty," he said. "You are wrong, quite wrong. I can prove my innocence, but you ought not to require that of me. Cannot you trust me, father?"

The appealing tone in his voice was unmistakable, there was a ring of sincerity in it, and the Squire wavered. Ulick had not been accustomed to deceiving him. If he could only bring himself to believe in his innocence; but the evidence was damning, and now his refusal to return to Hazelwell confirmed it.

"Do you know who took Janet Todd away from home?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Ulick, in a low voice.

"Ah!" exclaimed the Squire, in a tone of satisfaction. "Then why have you not given me his name long ago?"

"Because I only discovered it the other day, and that quite by accident."

"Who is the scoundrel?"

"I cannot tell you."

"You must," thundered the Squire.

Ulick remained silent, nothing his father might say would make him break his resolve. It was hard, very hard, and at that moment he hated Warren Courtly heartily.

"Come, my boy," said his father, in a milder tone, "let there be no more differences between us. Are you satisfied if I say I am convinced of your innocence, and ask you to forgive me for my unjust suspicions? I regret the hasty, angry words I said that night. Come back home with me, and let bygones be bygones."

Ulick was moved, for he knew what it cost his father to speak such words, and acknowledge himself in the wrong. It was an appeal that cut him to the heart to refuse.

"If you knew all, father, you would say I was acting right not to return home at present. To hear you say you are convinced of my innocence has lifted a heavy load from me, and I thank you for those words with all my heart. How I long to return to Hazelwell, you must know, and therefore will understand the weighty reasons I have for not doing so. Trust me, father, believe in me, and I shall be the happiest man alive."

The Squire did not hesitate. He spoke steadily as he said, "I will trust you, my son. We have been separated too long. If you cannot return with me, I know there must be grave cause of which I know nothing. What it is I cannot imagine, but you will tell me some day, and I hope and pray that it will not be long. If you will not return with me to Hazelwell, you must come to the Walton with me and spend a few days."

"Willingly," said Ulick. "It will be like the good old times for us to be together again."

"I feel a new man," said the Squire, heartily, as he rose to his feet. "We will go and find those two schemers, Eli and Fred, and then have a look at the Saint."