The Disentanglers. Lang Andrew

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СКАЧАТЬ they might never – ?’ asked Merton.

      ‘Yes,’ said Miss Crofton; ‘perhaps they might not. That would be all to the good for the Church; no ideals would be shattered – the reverse – and dear Julia would – ’

      ‘Cherish their pious memories,’ said Merton.

      ‘I see that you understand me,’ said Miss Crofton.

      Merton did understand, and he was reminded of the wicked lady, who, when tired of her lovers, had them put into a sack, and dropped into the Seine.

      ‘But,’ he asked, ‘has this ingenious system failed to work? I should suppose that each young man, on distant and on deadly shores, was far from causing inconvenience.’

      ‘The defect of the system,’ said Miss Crofton, ‘is that none of them has gone, or seems in a hurry to go. The first – that was Mr. Bathe, Julia?’

      Julia nodded.

      ‘Mr. Bathe was to have gone to Turkey during the Armenian atrocities, and to have forced England to intervene by taking the Armenian side and getting massacred. Julia was intensely interested in the Armenians. But Mr. Bathe first said that he must lead Julia to the altar before he went; and then the massacres fell off, and he remains at Cheltenham, and is very tiresome. And then there is Mr. Clancy, he was to go out to China, and denounce the gods of the heathen Chinese in the public streets. But he insisted that Julia should first be his, and he is at Leamington, and not a step has he taken to convert the Boxers.’

      Merton knew the name of Clancy. Clancy had been his fag at school, and Merton thought it extremely improbable that the Martyr’s crown would ever adorn his brow.

      ‘Then – and this is the last of them, of the clergy, at least – Mr. Brooke: he was to visit the New Hebrides, where the natives are cannibals, and utterly unawakened. He is as bad as the others. He won’t go alone. Now, Julia is obliged to correspond with all of them in affectionate terms (she keeps well out of their way), and this course of what she feels to be duplicity is preying terribly on her conscience.’

      Here Julia sobbed hysterically.

      ‘She is afraid, too, that by some accident, though none of them know each other, they may become aware of the state of affairs, or Captain Lestrange, to whom she is passionately attached, may find it out, and then, not only may their ideals be wrecked, but – ’

      ‘Yes, I see,’ said Merton; ‘it is awkward, very.’

      The interview, an early one, had lasted for some time. Merton felt that the hour of luncheon had arrived, and, after luncheon, it had been his intention to go up to the University match. He also knew, from various sounds, that clients were waiting in the ante-chamber. At this moment the door opened, and the office boy, entering, laid three cards before him.

      ‘The gentlemen asked when you could see them, sir. They have been waiting some time. They say that their appointment was at one o’clock, and they wish to go back to Lord’s.’

      ‘So do I,’ thought Merton sadly. He looked at the cards, repressed a whistle, and handed them silently to Miss Crofton, bidding the boy go, and return in three minutes.

      Miss Crofton uttered a little shriek, and pressed the cards on Julia’s attention. Raising her veil, Julia scanned them, wrung her hands, and displayed symptoms of a tendency to faint. The cards bore the names of the Rev. Mr. Bathe, the Rev. Mr. Brooke, and the Rev. Mr. Clancy.

      ‘What is to be done?’ asked Miss Crofton in a whisper. ‘Can’t you send them away?’

      ‘Impossible,’ said Merton firmly.

      ‘If we go out they will know me, and suspect Julia.’

      Miss Crofton looked round the room with eyes of desperate scrutiny. They at once fell on a large old-fashioned screen, covered with engravings, which Merton had picked up for the sake of two or three old mezzotints, barbarously pasted on to this article of furniture by some ignorant owner.

      ‘Saved! we are saved! Hist, Julia, hither!’ said Miss Crofton in a stage whisper. And while Merton murmured ‘Highly unprofessional,’ the skirts of the two ladies vanished behind the screen.

      Miss Crofton had not played Lady Teazle for nothing.

      ‘Ask the gentlemen to come in,’ said Merton, when the boy returned.

      They entered: three fair young curates, nervous and inclined to giggle. Shades of difference of ecclesiastical opinion declared themselves in their hats, costume, and jewellery.

      ‘Be seated, gentlemen,’ said Merton, and they sat down on three chairs, in identical attitudes.

      ‘We hope,’ said the man on the left, ‘that we are not here inconveniently. We would have waited, but, you see, we have all come up for the match.’

      ‘How is it going?’ asked Merton anxiously.

      ‘Cambridge four wickets down for 115, but – ’ and the young man stared, ‘it must be, it is Pussy Merton!’

      ‘And you, Clancy Minor, why are you not converting the Heathen Chinee? You deserve a death of torture.’

      ‘Goodness! How do you know that?’ asked Clancy.

      ‘I know many things,’ answered Merton. ‘I am not sure which of you is Mr. Bathe.’

      Clancy presented Mr. Bathe, a florid young evangelist, who blushed.

      ‘Armenia is still suffering, Mr. Bathe; and Mr. Brooke,’ said Merton, detecting him by the Method of Residues, ‘the oven is still hot in the New Hebrides. What have you got to say for yourselves?’

      The curates shifted nervously on their chairs.

      ‘We see, Merton,’ said Clancy, ‘that you know a good deal which we did not know ourselves till lately. In fact, we did not know each other till the Church Congress at Leamington. Then the other men came to tea at my rooms, and saw – ’

      ‘A portrait of a lady; each of you possessed a similar portrait,’ said Merton.

      ‘How the dev – I mean, how do you know that?’

      ‘By a simple deductive process,’ said Merton. ‘There were also letters,’ he said. Here a gurgle from behind the screen was audible to Merton.

      ‘We did not read each others’ letters,’ said Clancy, blushing.

      ‘Of course not,’ said Merton.

      ‘But the handwriting on the envelopes was identical,’ Clancy went on.

      ‘Well, and what can our Society do for you?’

      ‘Why, we saw your advertisements, never guessed they were yours, of course, Pussy, and – none of us is a man of the world – ’

      ‘I congratulate you,’ said Merton.

      ‘So we thought we had better take advice: it seemed rather a lark, too, don’t you know? The fact is – you appear to have divined it somehow – we find that we are all engaged to the same lady. We can’t fight, and we can’t all marry her.’

      ‘In СКАЧАТЬ