Sport Royal, and Other Stories

“My plan will, I hope, dispose of Lord Daynesborough. If so, Your Royal Highness might join the princess.”

“I shan’t do anything of the sort. I shall have her brought back.”

Apparently there was a reserve of resolution latent somewhere in this indolent gentleman.

“Will you go yourself, sir?”

“No. You must do it.”

“I, sir? Surely, M. Dumergue – ”

“Dumergue’s afraid of her. Will you bring her back?”

“Supposing she won’t come?”

“I didn’t request you to ask her to come. I requested you to bring her.”

I looked at him inquiringly. He inhaled a mouthful of smoke, and added, with a nod:

“Yes, if necessary.”

“Will Your Royal Highness hold me harmless from the king – or the law.”

“No. I can’t. Will you do it?”

“With pleasure, sir.”

At ten minutes to five, Lady Daynesborough, heavily veiled, and I drove up to the station in a hired cab, and hid ourselves in the third-class waiting room. At five minutes to five, Lord Daynesborough arrived. He wore a scarf up to his nose, and a cap down to his eyes, and walked to the station, unattended and without luggage. He got into a second-class smoking carriage – one of the long compartments divided into separate boxes by intervening partitions reaching within a yard of the roof, a gang-way running down the middle. On seeing him enter, I caught the guard, gave him twenty marks, and told him to admit no one except myself and my companion into that carriage. Then I hauled Lady Daynesborough in, and we sat down at the opposite end to that occupied by her husband.

The train started. It was only five-and-twenty minutes’ run to the station for the princess’ villa. There was no time to lose.

“Are you ready?” I whispered.

“Yes,” she answered, her voice trembling a little.

We rose, walked along, and sat down opposite to Lord Daynesborough. He was looking out of the window, although it was dark, and did not turn.

“Lord Daynesborough,” said I, “you have forgotten your ticket.” And I held out a through ticket to Paris.

He started as if he had been shot.

“Who the devil – ” he began. “Jason!”

“Yes,” said I. “Here’s your ticket.”

“I thought you were in England,” he gasped.

“No, I am here.”

“Spying on my actions?”

“Acquainted with them.”

“I’ll have no interference, sir. If you know me, you will kindly be silent, and leave me to myself.”

Time was passing.

“You are going to Paris with this lady,” said I.

“You’re insolent, sir – you and your – ”

“Don’t say what you’ll regret. She’s your wife.”

Well, of course he was very much in the wrong, and looked uncommonly ridiculous to boot. Still, the way he collapsed was rather craven. I withdrew for five minutes. Then I returned, and held out the ticket again. He took it.

“If you will leave us for five minutes, Lady Daynesborough?”

She went into the next box. Then I said:

“Now, we’ve only ten minutes. We’re going to change clothes. Be quick.”

I took off my coat.

“By God, I’ll not stand this!”

And he rose.

In a moment I had him by the collar, and was presenting a pistol at his head.

“No nonsense!” I whispered. “Off with them!”

He might have known I would not shoot him in his wife’s presence; but I could and would have undressed him with my own hands. Perhaps he guessed this.

“Let me go,” he muttered.

I released him, and he took off his coat.

The train began to slacken speed. I called to Lady Daynesborough, who rejoined us.

“You have fulfilled your promise,” said I to the young man. “And,” I added, turning to her, “I have fulfilled mine. Good-night!”

I opened the door, and jumped out as we entered the station. I stood waiting till the train started again, but Lord Daynesborough remained in his place. I wonder what passed on that journey. She was a plucky girl, and I can only trust she gave him what he deserved. At any rate, he never, so far as I heard, ran away again.

I asked my way to the villa, and reached it after half an hour’s walking. I did not go in by the lodge gates, but climbed the palings, and reached the door by way of the shrubberies. I knocked softly. A man opened the door instantly. He must have been waiting.

“Is it Milord?” he said in French.

“Yes,” I answered, entering rapidly.