_ PART II CHAPTER II. ONE OF THE FAMILY
"But, my dear chap, what bally rot! Anyone would think I'd never smoked a pipe or handled a gun before, when I've done both for years."
Noel Wyndham's smile was the most engaging part of him; it had the knack of disarming the most wrathful. It had served him many a time in the hour of retribution, and he never scrupled to make use of it. It was quite his most valuable asset.
"Don't be waxy, old chap," he pleaded, slipping an affectionate hand inside his brother-in-law's unresponsive arm. "I've been having such a high old time. And I'm not a bloomin' kid. I know what I'm about."
"All very well," Mordaunt said. "I don't object to anything in reason. But you are too fond of taking French leave with other people's property. That gun, for instance--"
"Oh, that's all right," the boy assured him eagerly. "It kicks most infernally, but I soon got the trick of it after a bruise or two. I say, you haven't seen anything of that little devil Cinders? He's gone down a rabbit-hole. Won't Chris be in a stew?"
Mordaunt possessed himself of the gun without further argument. "Then you'd better set to work and find him. Chris is going out this afternoon."
"In the motor?" Noel's eyes shone. "I'll go, too. You needn't bother about Cinders. He always turns up sooner or later. Don't tell Chris, or she'll spend the rest of the day hunting for him."
"She will probably want to know," observed Mordaunt.
"I shall say I never had him," said Noel unconcernedly. "He won't come to any harm, but you can turn that secretary fellow of yours on to the job if you're feeling anxious. I say, Trevor, we shan't want the chauffeur. Tell them, will you?"
"You certainly won't go without him," Mordaunt rejoined. "And look here, Noel, you're not to tell lies. Understand?"
Noel looked up with a flicker of temper in his Irish eyes, "Oh, rats!" he said.
"Understand?" Mordaunt repeated. "It's the one thing I won't put up with, so make up your mind to that."
He spoke quite temperately, but with unswerving decision. His eyes looked hard into Noel's, and the boy's spark of resentment went out like an extinguished match.
"I say, I like you!" he said with enthusiasm. "You're a regular sport!"
"Thank you," Mordaunt returned gravely.
"And what about Chris?" Noel proceeded mischievously. "Isn't she allowed to tell lies, either?"
Mordaunt stiffened. "Chris knows better."
"Oh, does she?" Noel yelled derision. "My dear chap, you'll kill me! Why, she--she's about the worst of us. I never knew anyone lie quite like Chris when occasion arises."
He broke off. Mordaunt had shaken his arm free with an abruptness not far removed from violence.
"That's enough," he said sternly. "I don't advise you to say any more upon that subject."
"But I assure you it's the truth," Noel protested. "She can look you straight in the face and swear that black is white till you actually believe it. I assure you she can."
He spoke with such naive admiration of the achievement that Trevor Mordaunt, on the verge of anger, found himself checked suddenly by an irrepressible desire to laugh.
Noel saw and seized upon his advantage. "But I daresay she wouldn't to you. She gets everything she wants without. I must say you're jolly decent to all of us. I'm sorry I took your gun--didn't know it was one you particularly valued. I'd get one of my own only I'm so beastly hard up. I suppose you couldn't lend me a fiver now, could you?"
He tucked his hand back into Mordaunt's arm persuasively, and smiled his winning smile. "I'll pay you back--with interest--when I come of age. That'll be in five years. I wouldn't ask you if I couldn't. But I daresay Chris can let me have it if you would rather not."
"No!" Mordaunt said very decidedly. "There must be no borrowing from Chris. I will give you five pounds if you are wanting it, but not to buy a gun with, and only on the understanding that for the future you come to me--and never to Chris--if you chance to be in difficulties."
"Oh yes, I'll promise that," said Noel readily. "But I don't want you to make me a present, old chap. I shall pay up some day. You shall have an I O U."
"Many thanks! I don't want one." Mordaunt began to smile. "Just keep straight and tell the truth," he said. "That's all the return I want."
"Really?" Noel's smile became a grin. "That's awfully decent of you. As a matter of fact, I don't believe even Chris could manage to deceive you. You're so beastly shrewd. But we'll call it a bargain if you like. You won't catch me trying to jockey you after this."
"Very well," Mordaunt said. "Then, on the strength of that, I want to know if you have ever had any money from Chris before."
"Why, of course I have!" Noel seemed surprised by the question. He spoke with the utmost frankness.
"How much?"
Mordaunt's smile had departed. He did not look altogether pleased, but Noel was quite unimpressed.
"Oh, goodness knows!" he said lightly. "She has my I O U's."
"Which she must find very satisfying," remarked Mordaunt. "Now look here, boy! There must be no more of this. You will have to keep within your allowance in future."
"My dear chap, it's all jolly fine--I can't!" protested Noel. "Why, I only get about twopence-halfpenny a term. It isn't enough to pay a cat's expenses, besides being always up to the eyes in debt."
Mordaunt heaved a sigh of resignation. "I suppose I had better look into your affairs. Write down as clear a statement of your debts as you can, and let me have it."
"I say--really?" Noel looked up eagerly. "You're not in earnest?"
"Yes, I am. And afterwards--you are to keep within your means, or if you don't I must know the reason why."
Noel grinned with cheery impudence. "You'll swish me, I suppose, to improve my morals? Wish I had as many sovereigns as I've had swishings. They would keep me in clover for a year."
Mordaunt laughed rather grimly. "I don't waste my time licking hardened sinners like you. I've something better to do."
Noel echoed his laugh with keen enjoyment. "You're rather a beast, but I like you. Have you paid Rupert's debts, too? He is always on the verge of bankruptcy. Shouldn't wonder if Max is as well, but he keeps his affairs so dark. I expect he is in the hands of the money-lenders--I know Rupert was years ago."
"I don't think he is now," Mordaunt said.
"Don't you? What's the betting on that? He could no more keep out of their clutches than he could fly over the moon. I say"--he suddenly burst into a peal of boyish laughter--"it's the funniest thing on earth to see you shouldering the family burdens. How you will wish you hadn't! And that French beggar you've adopted, too, who is safe to rob you sooner or later! Why don't you start a home for waifs and strays at once? I'll help you run it. I'll do the accounts."
Mordaunt laughed, in spite of himself. "Very kind of you! But I think there are enough of you for the present."
"All highly satisfactory," grinned Noel. "What a pity you didn't marry Aunt Philippa, I say! She would have been much more useful to you than Chris. Never thought of that, I suppose?"
"Never!" said Mordaunt.
"Poor old Aunt Phil!" Noel chuckled afresh. "She would have been in her element if you had only given her the chance. She hates us all like poison. I suppose you know why?"
"Haven't an idea," Mordaunt spoke repressively, "unless your general behaviour has something to do with it."
"Oh, very likely it has," Noel conceded. "But the chief reason was that our father diddled her out of a lot of money. He was hard up, and she was rolling. So he--borrowed a little." He glanced at Mordaunt with a queer grimace. "Most unfortunately he didn't live to pay it back. I shouldn't tell anyone this, but I don't mind telling you, as you are one of the family."
"And who told you?" Mordaunt inquired.
"Me? I overheard it."
"How?"
The question came sternly, but Noel was sublimely unabashed.
"The usual way. How does one generally overhear things? I hid behind a shutter once when Aunt Phil and Murdoch, our man of business, were having a talk. She pitched it pretty strong, I can tell you. I should have felt quite sorry for the old girl if I hadn't known that her husband had left her more than she could possibly know what to do with. As it was, I was rather glad than otherwise, for she's disgustingly mean over trifles. And people who can shell out and won't should be made to."
Mordaunt received this axiom in silence. As a matter of fact he was somewhat staggered by the information thus airily imparted. But he did not question the truth of it. He only wondered that he had never considered such a possibility before.
Another shout of merriment from the boy at his side made him look round. "Well? What's the joke?"
"You!" yelled the youngster, between his paroxysms. "I'm awfully sorry. You're such a good sort. But I can't help it. I say, Trevor--aren't you glad just--that you're one of the family?"
Mordaunt aimed a blow at him that he evaded with ease. "If you don't behave yourself I shall use the privilege in a fashion you won't care for," he said, "even if it is a waste of time."
At which threat Noel confidingly hooked his arm once more through that of his brother-in-law and begged him in a voice hoarse with laughter to stop rotting. _