The Lunatic at Large - Part 6
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Part 6

"You can perhaps believe, Moggridge," said Mr Beveridge, reflectively, "that one doesn't often have the chance of talking confidentially to a man of sense in Clankwood."

"No, sir, I should himagine not."

"And so one has sometimes to talk to oneself."

This was said so sadly that Moggridge began to feel uncomfortably affected.

"Ah, Moggridge, one cannot always keep silence, even when one least wants to be overheard. Have you ever been in love, Moggridge?"

The burly keeper changed countenance a little at this embarra.s.singly direct question, and answered diffidently, "Well, sir, to be sure men is men and woming will be woming."

"The deuce, they will!" replied Mr Beveridge, cordially; "and it's rather hard to forget 'em, eh?"

"Hindeed it is, sir."

"I remembered this afternoon, but I should like you as a good chap to forget. You won't mention my moment of weakness, Moggridge?"

"No, sir," said Moggridge, stoutly. "I suppose I hought to report what I sees, but I won't this time."

"Thank you," said Mr Beveridge, pressing his arm. "I had, you know, a touch of the sun in India, and I sometimes talk when I shouldn't. Though, after all, that isn't a very uncommon complaint."

And so it happened that no rumour prejudicial either to his sanity or to the progress of his friendship with the Lady Alicia reached the ears of the authorities.

CHAPTER V.

Towards four o'clock on the following afternoon Mr Beveridge and Moggridge were walking leisurely down the long drive leading from the mansion of Clankwood to the gate that opened on the humdrum outer world. Finding that an inelastic matter of yards was all the tether he could hope for, Mr Beveridge thought it best to take the bull by the horns, and make a companion of this necessity. So he kept his attendant by his side, and regaled him for some time with a series of improbable reminiscences and tolerable cigars, till at last, round a bend of the avenue, a lady on horseback came into view. As she drew a little nearer he stopped with an air of great surprise and pleasure.

"I believe, Moggridge, that must be Lady Alicia a Fyre!" he exclaimed.

"It looks huncommon like her, sir," replied Moggridge.

"I must really speak to her. She was"-and Mr Beveridge a.s.sumed his inimitable air of manly sentiment-"she was one of my poor mother's dearest friends. Do you mind, Moggridge, falling behind a little? In fact, if you could step behind a tree and wait here for me, it would be pleasanter for us both. We used to meet under happier circ.u.mstances, and, don't you know, it might distress her to be reminded of my misfortunes."

Such a reasonable request, beseechingly put by so fine a gentleman, could scarcely be refused. Moggridge retired behind the trees that lined the avenue, and Mr Beveridge advanced alone to meet the Lady Alicia. She blushed very becomingly as he raised his hat.

"I hardly expected to see you to-day, Mr Beveridge," she began.

"I, on the other hand, have been thinking of nothing else," he replied.

She blushed still deeper, but responded a little reprovingly, "It's very polite of you to say so, but--"

"Not a bit," said he. "I have a dozen equally well-turned sentences at my disposal, and, they tell me, a most deluding way of saying them."

Suddenly out of her depth again, poor Lady Alicia could only strike out at random.

"Who tell you?" she managed to say.

"First, so far as my poor memory goes, my mother's lady's-maid informed me of the fact; then I think my sister's governess," he replied, ticking off his informants on his fingers with a half-abstracted air. "After that came a number of more or less reliable individuals, and lastly the Lady Alicia a Fyre."

"Me? I'm sure I never said--"

"None of them ever _said_," he interrupted.

"But what have I done, then?" she asked, tightening her reins, and making her horse fidget a foot or two farther away.

"You have begun to be a most adorable friend to a most unfortunate man."

Still Lady Alicia looked at him a little dubiously, and only said, "I-I hope I'm not too friendly."

"There are no degrees in friendly," he replied. "There are only aloofly, friendly, and more than friendly."

"I-I think I ought to be going on, Mr Beveridge."

That experienced diplomatist perceived that it was necessary to further embellish himself.

"Are you fond of soldiers?" he asked, abruptly.

"I beg your pardon?" she said in considerable bewilderment.

"Does a red coat, a medal, and a bra.s.s band appeal to you? Are you apt to be interested in her Majesty's army?"

"I generally like soldiers," she admitted, still much surprised at the turn the conversation had taken.

"Then I was a soldier."

"But-really?"

"I held a commission in one of the crackest cavalry regiments," he began dramatically, and yet with a great air of sincerity. "I was considered one of the most promising officers in the mess. It nearly broke my heart to leave the service."

He turned away his head. Lady Alicia was visibly affected.

"I am so sorry!" she murmured.

Still keeping his face turned away, he held out his hand and she pressed it gently.

"Sorrow cannot give me my freedom," he said.

"If there is anything I can do--" she began.

"Dismount," he said, looking up at her tenderly.

Lady Alicia never quite knew how it happened, but certainly she found herself standing on the ground, and the next moment Mr Beveridge was in her place.

"An old soldier," he exclaimed, gaily; "I can't resist the temptation of having a canter." And with that he started at a gallop towards the gate.