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Read Ebook: The Coil of Carne by Oxenham John
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Ebook has 1806 lines and 65694 words, and 37 pages
And then, as he did his best for the tenth time, in his thick-headed, blundering way, to cover the ground again step by step, it suddenly flashed upon him.
"And which of you is Lady Susan Sandys's boy?"
That was it! "Which of you is Lady Susan Sandys's boy?" the old man had asked quite casually, as though expecting a perfectly commonplace answer.
Were they not, then, both Lady Susan Sandys's boys?
To be suddenly confronted with a question such as that--to come upon even the suggestion of a flaw in the fundamental facts of one's life, is a facer indeed.
Twin brothers must surely have the same mother. And yet from Lord Deseret's question, and the way he put it, and the searching look of the kindly keen eyes, one might have supposed that he knew, and every one else knew, something to the contrary.
To one of Jim's simple nature, there was only one thing to be done, and that was to go to Lord Deseret and ask him plainly what he meant.
He had already written to Jack, conveying to him his half of the unexpected windfall, before he had succeeded in getting back to the root of the trouble. And he had simply told him how he had met Lord Deseret, an old friend of their father's, and how he had broken the bank at roulette and had insisted on making him a present, which was obviously given to them both, and so he had the pleasure of enclosing his half herewith; and Lord Deseret was an exceedingly jolly old cock, and the finest-looking old boy he had ever seen, and the way he followed up that bank till it broke was a sight, and he, Jim, was half inclined to buy himself another horse, as the mare he had was a bit shy and skittish in the traffic, though no doubt she would get used to it in time.
It was after five before he found out what he wanted to ask Lord Deseret, and so the matter had to stand over till next day, rankling meanwhile in his mind in most unaccustomed fashion, and exercising that somewhat lethargic member much beyond its wont.
That night Denham and the rest were bound for Covent Garden to see Madame Beteta in her Spanish dances.
Vittoria Beteta had burst upon the town a month or two before and taken it by storm. She claimed to be Spanish, but her dances were undoubtedly more so than her speech.
She had a smattering of her alleged native language, and of French and Italian, and, for a foreigner, a quite unusual command of the difficult English tongue.
Whatever her actual nationality, however, she danced superbly and was extraordinarily good-looking, and knew how to make the most of herself in every way.
Her age was uncertain, like all the rest. She looked eighteen, but, as she had been dancing for years in most of the capitals of Europe, she was probably more. What was certain was that she had witching black eyes, and raven black hair, and a superb figure, and danced divinely, and drew all the world to watch her.
Jim was charmed, like all the others. He had never seen anything so exquisitely, so seductively graceful.
He gazed, with wide eyes and parted lips, till the others smiled at his absorption.
"There's your new catch beckoning to you, Carron," said Denham suddenly, but he had to dig him lustily in the ribs before he could distract his attention from the dancer.
"Here, I say! Stop it!" jerked Jim, unconsciously fending the assault with his elbow, while he still hung on to the Beteta's twinkling feet with all the zest that was in him.
"There's Lord Deseret waving to you--in the stage-box, man." And Jim, following his indication, saw Lord Deseret, in a box abutting right on to the stage, waving his hand and beckoning to him.
"You have the luck," sighed Denham. "He wants you in his box. Wonder if he has room for two little ones."
"Come on and try." And Jim jumped up.
"Wait till the dance is over or you'll get howled at, man." And Denham dragged him down again, until the outburst of applause announced the end of the figure and they were able to get round to Lord Deseret's box.
He received them cordially, and as he had the box all to himself Charlie had no reason to feel himself superfluous.
"Yes, she is very 'harming and dances remarkably well," said Lord Deseret. "It was I induced her to come over here. I saw her in Vienna two years ago, and advised her then to add London to her laurels. Would you like to meet her? We could go round after the next dance. She will have a short rest then."
"Oh, I would," jerked Jim.
And so presently he found himself, with Lord Deseret and Charlie Denham, who could hardly stand for inflation, in Mme Beteta's dressing-room.
She was lying on a couch, swathed in a crimson silk wrap and fanning herself gently with a huge feather fan, over which the great black eyes shone like lamps.
"Se?ora," said Lord Deseret in Spanish, with the suspicion of a smile in the corners of his eyes, "may I be allowed the pleasure of introducing to you some young friends of mine?" And she struck at him playfully with the plume of feathers, disclosing for a moment a laughing mouth and a set of fine white teeth. And Jim thought she looked hardly as young as her eyes and her feet would have led one to suppose.
"Do you understand Spanish?" she asked of Jim, in English.
"I stand corrected, madame. We will not speak our native tongue. This is my young friend, James Carron."
And Jim, gazing with all his heart at the wonderful dancer, got a vivid impression of a rich dark Southern face, and a pair of great liquid black eyes glowing upon him through the tantalising undulations of the great dusky fan, which wafted to and fro with the methodic regularity of a metronome.
"And this is Lord Charles Denham. Both gallant Hussars, and both aching to show the colour of their blood against your friends of St. Petersburg."
"Ah, the horror!" she said gently. "But you do not look bloodthirsty, Mr. Carron." And the great black eyes seemed to look Jim through and through.
"I don't think I am really, you know. But if there is to be fighting one looks for chances, of course."
"And the chance always of death," she said gravely.
"One takes that, of course."
"But it is always the next man who is going to be killed, madame," struck in Charlie. "Oneself is always immune. Lord Deseret was at Waterloo, yet here he is, very much alive and as sound as a bell."
"He had the good fortune. May you both have as good!"
"They were anxious to express to you their admiration of your dancing, madame," said Lord Deseret. "But we seem to have fallen upon more solemn subjects."
"I have never seen anything like it," said Jim.
"It is exquisite beyond words, a veritable dream," said the more gifted Charlie.
"Ah, well, it seems to please people, and so it is a pleasure to me also. You are from--where, Mr. Carron?"
"From the north--from Carne,--the Carrons of Carrie, you know."
The dusky plume wafted noiselessly to and fro in front of her face, and its pace did not vary by the fraction of a hair's breadth. Over it, and through it, the great black eyes rested on his face in curiously thoughtful inquisition.
Suddenly, with an almost invisible jerk of the head, she beckoned him to closer converse, and holding the fan as a screen invited him inside it, so to speak.
"Do you play?" she asked gently.
"Very little," he said in surprise. "I have only my pay and an allowance, you see."
"That is right. He"--nodding towards Lord Deseret--"is not a good example for young men in that respect."
"He has been very kind to me. And he warns me strongly against it."
"All the same he does not set a good example. Will you come and see me?"
"I would be delighted if I may."
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