Read Ebook: Sir John Dering: A romantic comedy by Farnol Jeffery

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Ebook has 3620 lines and 104305 words, and 73 pages

"Aye, a wilfu' bairn, John, and a'm an auld man ill able tae cope wi' ye, laddie, bein' vera feeble and bowed wi' years."

"Though King William made you a knight and a General, Sir Hector!"

"You have been everything to me, Hector--my only true friend!"

"And, sir, indeed you have!"

"Ah, but have I, John--have I so, indeed? Have I trained you up to be the honourable gentleman your father would have been proud of calling son? Have I, lad--have I?"

"I trust so, sir."

"Forgi'e me, John, forgi'e me!" he exclaimed, unheeding Sir John's reassurances; "but ye see, lad, a'm no juist the man tae be trusted amang sic dainty trifles as yon. Look at it--shivered beyond repair ... 'tis like a man's honour! An' talking of honour, John, your father was a noble gentleman, proud of his honourable name, who kept that name unsullied all his days.... Have you done as much, John? O lad, you that are my dead friend's son, you that I have bred from your youth up--have you done as much?"

"Do you doubt it, Hector?"

"Aye, I do, John. God help me, I must--unless report lies."

Sir John's pale cheek flushed, his sensitive nostrils quivered, but his air and tone were placid as usual when he spoke:

"To what do you refer, Hector?"

"Ah, the Marquise?" sighed Sir John, turning to glance at his unfinished composition. "I was inditing an ode to her, but my muse halted for an apt rhyme to 'soul,' Hector."

"'Twas a curst discreditable affair as I heard it, John!"

"Hoot-toot, man!" exclaimed MacLean. "The de'il awa' wi' y'r rhymes!"

"With all my heart, Hector, for they're bad enough, I fear," sighed Sir John.

"Sic sinfu' repoorts as I've been hearin' o' ye, John!" exclaimed MacLean, striding up and down the room again. "Sic a gallimaufry o' waefu' wickedness, sic lug-tingling tales.... O man, John, y'r reputation fair stinks!"

"And therefore fashionable, Hector! Remember, this is Paris!"

"Parus!" snorted MacLean; "O Parus! Edinb'ro's a sinfu' town, forbye it hath its savin' graces. Lon'non's waur, but--Parus! Man, I'm no' an archangel, y' ken, but--Parus! And this brings me back tae yoursel', John."

"And pray what have you heard concerning me particularly, Hector? Come, what are my latest sins? Whose wife have I lured from sorrowing spouse? What young innocent is my latest victim? What hopeful youth have I ruined at the gaming-table?... and in heaven's name--smile, man!"

"How, smile is it, and my heart waefu' for ye, lad? Repoort speaks ye a very deevil, John."

"Aye, but even the devil is never so black as he is painted, Hector!"

"Ha, will ye be for tellin' me repoort hath lied, John?"

"Let us rather say it hath not spoke truth."

"Whaur's the differ, lad?"

"How so, John lad, what d'ye mean?"

"That I have an enemy--nay two, rather! The one being myself--and he is bad enough o' conscience--but the other--ah, Hector, this other one is more implacable, more unrelenting and a thousand times more merciless!"

"Who is he, lad, a God's name?"

"'Tis no he," sighed Sir John.

"Aha!" exclaimed Sir Hector, coming to an abrupt stand; "you mean--her?"

"I do, Hector! 'Tis an ill thing to have an enemy, but if that enemy be a woman, young, beautiful, of high estate and very wealthy--the situation becomes desperate."

"A wumman!" repeated Sir Hector, rasping thumb and finger across bony chin. "You mean 'the Barrasdaile,' of course, John?"

"Aye, the Lady Herminia Barrasdaile."

"Emptiness, laddie? Hoot-toot--and yersel' the joy o' the leddies, the envy o' the men! 'The glass o' fashion an' mould o' form,' wi' every young sprig o' gallantry to copy the cut o' your waistcoats? And you think, John, you think that my Lady Barrasdaile is actually carrying her threat into execution?"

"Well, these last few years, Hector, have proved singularly eventful to me one way or another. I have been involved so often in so many unsavoury affairs and had so many duels forced upon me that my reputation is grown a little threadbare, as you know, and myself notorious."

"And now it seems you've another duel on your hands."

"A duel, Hector? Egad, and have I so? With whom, pray?

"Losh, man, you should ken that weel enough."

"Hum!" quoth Sir John, pondering.

"An Englishman, Hector, mark that! Ha," mused Sir John, "I have a vague recollection of throwing somebody's hat out of some window some time or other--but whose hat, or what window, or when, I cannot recall for the life o' me. We must look into this, Hector. Let us summon the Corporal and hear what the perspicacious Robert hath to say."

"What, Corporal Bob? He's still with you, then, John lad?"

"To be sure, Hector," answered Sir John, ringing the small silver bell at his elbow. "He is my major-domo, my valet, my general factotum, and will never be anything but a grenadier to the day of his death. Here he is!" At this moment was a short, sharp double knock and the door opened to admit a very square-shouldered, sharp-eyed man extremely precise as to clothes, speech and gesture, who, beholding Sir Hector's stalwart figure, halted suddenly, whipped up right hand as if to touch neat wig but, thinking better of it, bowed instead and immediately stood at attention.

"Stiff and straight as though on parade, Hector!" murmured Sir John, whereupon the Corporal flushed and immediately "stood easy."

"Ha, Corporal Robert!" exclaimed Sir Hector. "Dae ye mind the day we stormed the barricades afore Maestricht, and me wi' yon Frenchman's baggonet through me arrm? If ye hadna been there, I shouldna be here--so, Corporal Bobbie, gi'e's a grup o' y'r hand." The Corporal's cheek flushed again and his eyes glowed as their fingers gripped, but when he spoke it was to his master.

"You rang, Sir John?"

"I did, Robert. I desire you to inform us if I was particularly drunk or no last night?"

"You are ready to swear that?"

"Bible oath, Sir John!"

"I am not often drunk, I believe, Bob?"

"Never more than the occasion demands, sir--and then very genteelly!"

"When was the last occasion, Bob?"

"Two days ago, sir, being the night of the Marquise de Sauvray's reception."

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