On his arrival he went straight to the hotel that Mrs. Allingford had designated in her telegram, to find that that lady had retired for the night, leaving, however, a note for him which contained full instructions, and stated in addition that she had received his telegram, for which she was profoundly grateful, and that he must not hesitate to wake her if, by so doing, he could cause her to rejoin her husband one instant sooner.
As it was by this time close upon midnight, Carrington decided to let matters rest as they were till morning; especially as he had before he slept to hunt up his brother at the barracks, and so insure his attendance at court the next day. This was easily arranged; but the two men had much to talk over, and it was nearly daybreak when Jack set out to return to the hotel.
The shortest way back was by a cross cut through the mysterious darkness of the cathedral close, within which he heard the voices of two men in heated dispute, the tone of the one shrill with rage, while those of the other proclaimed that he had been drinking.
Carrington would have passed without noticing, so intent was he on his own affairs, had not a name which one of them pronounced arrested his attention and caused him to stop.
"You call Robert Allingford a thief!" came the thick tones of the intoxicated man.
"I say he stole it!" cried the shrill voice of the other.
"Call my brother a thief!" reiterated the first speaker. "He's Consul – gentleman. Gentlemen don't steal elephants."
"I say he stole it! Right away that day! Didn't wait for me to redeem it."
"You dare to call my brother thief!" The voice grew menacing.
"Twenty pounds he gave me – only one hundred dollars – for an elephant. I say he's a thief – !"
Here the shrill voice died away in a gulp, and there was a sound of blows and scuffling.
Carrington forced his way through the hedge, crying:
"Hold on! What is this about?"
At the sound of his voice the owner of elephants exclaimed: "The bobbies!" and, disengaging himself from the other, fled down the road; while his companion, who had started to follow him, was detained by Jack, who recognised his captive as none other than Richard Allingford.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"Oh," said Allingford, "it's Mr. Carrington. Delighted to see you, I'm sure. Correcting that fellow. Says brother Robert stole elephant." His arrest had somewhat sobered him.
"Of course," said Carrington, "he didn't steal the elephant."
"Where is he?"
"Your brother?"
"Yes."
"At Melton Court, near Salisbury; but you must not go there."
"Yes, I will," replied Slippery Dick, waxing pugnacious, "Take the elephant fellow along, too – make him eat his words. Call my brother a thief, will he?"
"You'll do nothing of the kind," said his captor. "You're wanted here by the police."
"What!"
"Yes. For assault and battery, and disturbing the peace. They have arrested another man, a Mr. Scarsdale, by mistake in your place."
"I don't know anything about it. Never been here before to-night," protested the unregenerate one.
"Well, you must come along with me and give yourself up, or – ." But Carrington never finished the sentence; for at that moment he struck the ground very hard, and by the time he realised that Slippery Dick had tripped him, that personage had disappeared into the darkness, thus justifying his sobriquet.
Jack picked himself up and struggled through the hedge; but no one was in sight, and the dull, distant sound of flying feet seemed to indicate that the Consul's brother was seeking fresh fields and pastures new with uncommon celerity.
CHAPTER IX
IN WHICH THE CONSUL AND MRS. SCARSDALE EMULATE THE KING OF FRANCE AND TWENTY THOUSAND OF HIS COMPATRIOTS
Another day was dawning, a day that was destined to be most arduous, eventful, and important in the lives of all those with whom this narrative has to deal. Yet, at this hour in the morning, Carrington, sitting shivering on his bedside; Lady Melton, listening in her chamber for the departing footsteps of the faithful Bright; Aunt Eliza, drinking an early cup of coffee in preparation for a long day's work; the Consul and Mrs. Scarsdale, journeying to Southampton; Slippery Dick, pouncing on the sometime owner of elephants at a way-side alehouse; Scarsdale, pacing his prison cell; Mrs. Allingford, waiting, 'twixt hope and fear, for news of her husband; and the elephant, shrieking in his box-stall – these, one and all, entered regretfully upon this day fraught with so many complications.
Carrington had decided, as he wended his way home to the hotel after his somewhat startling encounter with the Consul's unregenerate brother, that he was in no wise bound to report the matter to the authorities. His mission was to extricate Mr. Scarsdale from unjust imprisonment, not to incriminate any one else; and he foresaw that any attempt on his part to interfere, as an avenger of justice, might entail subsequent attendance at the local police court whenever the true culprit fell into the hands of the law.
When Jack had thus determined on his course of action, he resigned himself peacefully to slumber, of which he stood much in need; but no sooner, apparently, had his head touched the pillow than he was awakened by a knocking at his chamber door. In reply to his sleepy inquiries, he was informed that Mrs. Allingford was up and in the ladies' drawing-room, and would much appreciate it if she could see him as soon as possible.
Carrington replied that he would be happy to wait on her in a few minutes, as soon as he was dressed, in fact, and cursed himself heartily for having been fool enough to be any one's best man. Half-past six! It was inhuman to call him up at such a time. He had not had three hours' sleep. He wished himself at Melton Court more than ever. There, at least, they rose at decent hours.
As he entered the hotel drawing-room, a few minutes later, in a somewhat calmer frame of mind, due to a bath and a cup of coffee, Mrs. Allingford rose to meet him, took both his hands in hers, and, holding them tightly, stood for a moment with her upturned eyes looking fixedly into his. He would never have known her for the happy bride of two short days ago; she seemed more like a widow, years older, and with all the joy of her youth crushed out by trouble.
"Words cannot express what your coming means to me. It is the kindest thing you've ever done," she said simply; but her tone and manner told him of her gratitude and relief.
"It is very little to do," he replied, feeling, all at once, that he had been a brute not to have seen her the night before.
"My husband! Oh, tell me about my husband!" she exclaimed, dropping all restraint.
"What a child she was, in spite of her wedding-ring!" he thought; but he felt very sorry for her, and answered gently:
"I blame myself for not telling you sooner. He is safe and well.'
"Thank God!" she murmured.
"And at present at Melton Court, the country place of Lady Melton, Mr. Scarsdale's great-aunt." And then he told her such of her husband's adventures as he knew.
"When is the first train to Salisbury?" she cried, interrupting the recital.
"I dare say there is an early morning train," he returned; "but I should suggest your waiting for the one at nine-thirty, as then Mr. Scarsdale can accompany you."
"But he is in prison."
"Yes, I know; but he won't be very long."
"You are sure they will release him?"
"There's not a doubt of it. I have arranged all that."
"Now tell me more about my husband, everything you know. Poor Bob! if he has suffered as I have, he must indeed be wretched."
Jack was morally sure that the Consul had done nothing of the kind, but he forbore to say so. Not that he doubted for a moment that Allingford loved his wife ardently; but he knew him to be a somewhat easy-going personage, who, when he could not have things as he wanted them, resigned himself to making the best of things as they were. From what he knew of Mrs. Scarsdale, moreover, he thought it safe to conclude that she had resigned herself to the exigencies of the case, and that both of them looked on the whole affair as a practical joke played upon them by Fate, of which they could clearly perceive the humorous side. He therefore turned the conversation by recounting all he knew, even to the minutest circumstance, of her husband's adventures; and she, in her turn, poured into his ear her tale of woe in Winchester.