"Not I," he said, "I leave that to Jasper--I call him my walking account-book. I'm sorry you fellows were let in though; I can't understand it; although"--with a rueful laugh--"I suppose it was my fault with that tenner. Yet, I must say, I noticed the man as he galloped past, and saw no, signs of anything wrong."

"Nor I," put in Vermont. "I was in the weighting-room, and saw him scaled. He was all right then. He always was white and seedy-looking. I saw nothing wrong."

"Nor I," echoed the others.

Adrien lit another cigar, and the light fell full on his grave face.

"The losses are heavy all round; yet, speaking for myself," he said, "I would have rather dropped treble the amount than that poor fellow should have lost his life by a horse of mine."

"His own fault. It was absolutely a case of suicide," declared Lord Standon angrily. "He put the 'King' to that last hurdle half a minute too soon. The horse was not to blame; he would have taken the hedge, and another on top of that, but for that unlucky spurt. 'Pon my soul," he concluded hotly, "if I didn't know how well he'd been cared for, I should have said it was done on purpose!"

Unlucky youth! he little knew the harm he had done his empty pockets by this rash speech. Jasper Vermont's eyes narrowed, as was their wont when anything occurred to annoy him, and he registered a mental note against the unfortunate peer's name.

Adrien frowned, as he rose with the rest.

"That is impossible," he said, almost sternly; "Jasper saw to that too well. But, in future, no one shall ride the 'King' but myself; he's just up to my weight," he concluded. "Jasper, enter him for the Cup. We will give him a chance to retrieve this day's failure."

Jasper had risen with him, and amid a volley of good-nights, the two men pa.s.sed into the corridor. As Adrien was about to ascend the stairs to his own apartment, he turned to Vermont, and said quietly:

"Jasper, I should like that poor fellow to have a Christian burial in the private chapel; and if there are relations, find them out----" He broke off abruptly. "There, you know better than I what to do, and how to do it. Oh! just one word more; of course, I shall see that no notice is taken of his delirious ravings. Good-night, old man."

Jasper thanked him and returned his "good-night" with sympathetic cordiality; then turned softly to his own apartment. Having reached it, he gave himself up to a spasm of silent laughter.

"Christian burial!" he chuckled. "Oh, yes, he shall have Christian burial in the family vaults. Lucky job for me the hound died, or the game would have been all up. As it is, that fool--that popinjay, almost guessed. Well, deny everything and demand proof, that's my line. After all, it's the very risks and chances that make the game so fascinating."

He sat down and drew out a little note-book--only a very ordinary penny note-book; for it was wonderful how mean this man could be when he had to expend his own money. Save clothes, which necessarily had to be of good material, though quiet in colour, he never failed to buy the cheapest article obtainable; unless, of course, when, on the principle of "throwing a sprat to catch a herring," he stood to make a profit.

In this little book there lay the records of fortunes. A fortune spent by Leroy--a fortune gained by Jasper Vermont. He smiled to himself, as he closed one eye, and counted up the gains he had netted through this day's work.

"Eight--ten, with Yorkshire Twining's last little touch--ten thousands pounds. Ah, if those fools knew how the 'intruder' was stripping them of golden plumes, how mad they would be! Ten thousand pounds! But Twining was too risky," he muttered, frowning at the recollection, "My grand knight might have smelled a rat. Just like his n.o.ble lordship; two to one, because some stranger doubts the strength of the animal's legs."

He chuckled again as he thought how carefully he had stage-managed the day's comedy. Of the tragedy into which it had been turned by the death of his poor tool and accomplice, Peac.o.c.k, he gave no thought, his whole mind was bound up in his jealous hatred of Leroy. Just why he hated him so he, himself, could hardly have explained; but with men of Jasper Vermont's calibre, the mere fact that one possesses so much--wealth, position, and popularity--while the other must perforce live by his wits, is quite sufficient to arouse all the evil pa.s.sions of which he is capable.

"A mighty regal way he has with him," he muttered again, as he put away his book. "Ten thousand pounds! Go on, Jasper, my boy--persevere! The game starts well, the winning cards are yours. Gentlemen, make your game, the ball is rolling."

With this invitation to mankind in general, and his t.i.tled and wealthy acquaintances in particular, Mr. Jasper Vermont made his preparations for the night. He kept no valet; men of his type seldom care to have another in such close relations as must necessarily happen when one man holds the keys of another. It has been said by some cynic, that "the man who takes off your coat sees what is pa.s.sing in the heart beneath it,"

and with this statement Mr. Vermont probably agreed.

"I am a simple-minded, rough-and-ready creature," he often a.s.sured his friends; "a man to worry my tie, and force me to buy a new coat, because he desires my old one, would drive me mad."

So he undressed himself slowly, reckoning up his gains, smiling at his mask of a face in the large mirror, and hatching his little plots every knot he untied, every b.u.t.ton he released. At last he got into bed, and slept as easily and serenely as any simple-minded farmer.

CHAPTER XII

But that night Adrien Leroy could not sleep. Dismissing his valet, he threw himself into a chair, and began to review the events of the day, which had affected him more deeply than he would confess to. Then the mere sight of Lady Constance with Lord Standon had convinced him that any hope of ever winning her for his wife was at an end. For so many years had he himself been wooed and sought after, without response, that he was as ignorant of the rules of the game of love as any child. Love!

he had sneered at it, jested at its power all his life; but now he was beginning to suffer from its pangs himself. He rose hastily, and throwing open the window of his dressing room, stepped out on the balcony.

It was an exquisite night, and the stars shone like diamonds. Yet their very distance and detachment from all things earthly only served to deepen Adrien's melancholy. Before him stretched, in seemingly endless vista, the woods and lands of his heritage. As far as eye could reach, the earth and all within it and upon it belonged to him; and yet he sighed for the love and devotion of one frail girl, which, had he but known, were already his.

As he walked to and fro, he was again a.s.sailed by a wholesome distaste of his present empty, aimless existence, and a great longing came over him to break away from it and start afresh. Yes! he was very tired of it all. The men and women with whom he had up to this spent his time were becoming abhorrent to him. The thought of the soft lips and glances that had hitherto beguiled him, and lulled him into a state bordering upon stupor, now filled him with shame. Love, that marvellous panacea, had driven out the false, the impure visions of his heart, as surely and as thoroughly as ever Hercules cleansed the Augean stables.

The blood of his race stirred with him; he would have liked to have s.n.a.t.c.hed Constance, and borne her away on his trusty steed, as his forefathers would have done. But instead he must stand aside, and see her married to another. Nay, he himself would be asked to attend the wedding, perhaps even give her away to the man who was surely no more worthy of her than Adrien himself.

Jasper Vermont had indeed done his work well. No sooner had he seen the light of love shining in his friend's face, than he had set to work; and, like the grim spider of evil he resembled, had filled Adrien's mind with the suggestion that Constance loved--in fact, was secretly engaged to, Lord Standon.

His reasons for this were twofold. If Adrien married Constance, Ada Lester would--whether with or without cause--hold him responsible, and was more than capable of carrying out her threat to unmask him to his patron. Moreover, Jasper looked upon Lady Constance with an appreciative and covetous eye, and felt that if he could ever ingratiate himself with her sufficiently for her to promise to become his wife, the summit of his ambition would be reached.

Adrien was easily deceived; for, with all his faults, he was not conceited. He did not guess that Constance's very openly expressed pleasure in the company of Lord Standon was to prevent the discovery of her real and pa.s.sionate longing for that of her cousin.

Henceforth, he told himself, he must do his best to hide the pain that was gnawing at his heart. Henceforward, the pleasure of life would be as Dead Sea fruit to him. His hand fell on the bal.u.s.trade in his unconscious despair; and at that moment, another window farther down the long balcony opened, and the figure of Lord Barminster stepped out into the moonlight.

Adrien was in no humour to meet even his father; he was too weary in spirit to confront the old man's satire with his usual calm; so he shrank back into the shadow of the b.u.t.tress against which he leaned. But Lord Barminster's eyes were quick to perceive him; and, striding forward, he laid his hand on his son's shoulder.

"Well, Adrien," he commenced, "what is wrong? Can't you sleep, or are you given to spending the small hours in star-gazing?"

"I might retort in kind, sir," returned Adrien, pulling his scattered thoughts together, and smiling faintly.

"Ah! I am old," said his father. "Age has its penalties as well as its privileges; and the freedom to speak plainly is one of the latter. Come, my boy, what is wrong? At your age I was happy enough; but you seem to have taken the troubles of the world on your shoulders. Are you ill?"

"No, sir, I am well enough," returned Adrien quietly.

"Then are you worrying over your debts through that unlucky horse?

Because, although, as you know, I do not interfere with your money matters as a rule, you are quite at liberty to draw on my bank if you care to do so."

His son turned to him affectionately.

"No, no, sir," he said gratefully. "I don't suppose they are as bad as all that. Jasper will see to them."

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when he regretted them. His father's face darkened; his eyes grew fierce.

"Jasper! always Jasper," he snarled, even as Mortimer Shelton had done.

"It's a pity he didn't break his neck this morning, instead of his miserable tool."

Adrien uttered a protesting exclamation; he would have sacrificed anything sooner than have given his father this opportunity to revile his friend.

"You must be blind, sir," continued Lord Barminster, now working himself up into a rage. "Did not you see and hear enough from that jockey this morning to make you realise what that precious friend of yours had done?

I tell you, Adrien, that Jasper Vermont bribed that miserable man to rope your horse. For him, you have allowed your friends, my guests, to be swindled out of their money."

It was the first time in Adrien's recollection that the proud old man had ever even hinted that Barminster Castle was not entirely his son's yet; that the guests were those of his father's choice as well of his own.

Adrien's eyes blazed.

"Father," he said in a low voice, but as hard as steel, "I know you have always hated Mr. Vermont, but this goes farther than hate. Forgive me if I ask you, but surely you have some proofs? Otherwise you would not have accused him of such villainy. Give them to me, and I promise you to punish him as severely as you yourself could wish."