SIR EDWARD LEITHEN'S MYSTERIES - Complete Series. Buchan John

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СКАЧАТЬ of ten minutes he was empty-handed.

      “I never kenned the like,” he proclaimed. “That otter has come back and gotten the fush. Ach, the maleecious brute!”

      The rest of Leithen’s progress was not triumphant. He was conducted to the Strathlarrig lodge, where Angus, whose temper and wind had alike been ruined by the pursuit of Crossby, laid savage hands upon him, and frog-marched him to the back premises. The head-keeper scarcely heeded Jimsie’s tale. “Ach, ye poachin’ va-aga-bond. It is the jyle ye’ll get,” he roared, for Angus was in a mood which could only be relieved by violence of speech and action. Rumbling Gaelic imprecations, he hustled his prisoner into an outhouse, which had once been a larder and was now a supplementary garage, slammed and locked the door, and, as a final warning, kicked it viciously with his foot, as if to signify what awaited the culprit when the time came to sit on his case.

      Sir Archie, if not a skeleton at the feast, was no better than a shadow. The fragment of drama which he had witnessed had rudely divorced his mind from the intelligent conversation of Mr Bandicott, he was no longer slightly irritated by Mr Claybody, he forgot even the attractions of Janet. What was going on in that twilit vale? Lady Maisie’s Pool had still a shimmer of gold, but the woods were now purple and the waterside turf a dim amethyst, the colour of the darkening sky. All sound had ceased except the rare cry of a bird from the hill, and the hoot of a wandering owl…Crossby had beyond doubt been taken, but where was Leithen?

      He was recalled to his surroundings by Janet’s announcement that Mr Bandicott proposed to take them all in his car to the meeting at Muirtown.

      “Oh, I say,” he pleaded, “I’d much rather you didn’t. I haven’t a notion how to speak—no experience, you see—only about the third time I’ve opened my mouth in public. I’ll make an awful ass of myself, and I’d much rather my friends didn’t see it. If I know you’re in the audience, Miss Janet, I won’t be able to get a word out.”

      Mr Bandicott was sympathetic. “Take my advice, and do not attempt to write a speech and learn it by heart. Fill yourself with your subject, but do not prepare anything except the first sentence and the last. You’ll find the words come easily when you once begin—if you have something you really want to say.”

      “That’s the trouble—I haven’t. I’m goin’ to speak about foreign policy, and I’m dashed if I can remember which treaty is which, and what the French are making a fuss about, or why the old Boche can’t pay. And I keep on mixing up Poincaré and Mussolini…I’m goin to write it all down, and if I’m stuck I’ll fish out the paper and read it. I’m told there are fellows in the Cabinet who do that when they’re cornered.

      “Don’t stick too close to the paper,” the Colonel advised. “The Highlander objects to sermons read to him, and he may not like a read speech.”

      “Whatever he does I’m sure Sir Archibald will be most enlightening,” Mr Bandicott said politely. “Also I want to hear Lord Lamancha. We think rather well of that young man in America. How do you rate him here?”

      Mr Claybody, as a habitant of the great world, replied, “Very high in his own line. He’s the old-fashioned type of British statesman, and people trust him. The trouble about him and his kind is that they’re a little too far removed from the ordinary man—they’ve been too cosseted and set on a pedestal all their lives. They don’t know how to handle democracy. You can’t imagine Lamancha rubbing shoulders with Tom, Dick and Harry.”

      “Oh, come!” Sir Archie broke in. “In the war he started as a captain in a yeomanry regiment, and he commanded a pretty rough Australian push in Palestine. His men fairly swore by him.”

      “I daresay,” said the other coldly. “The war doesn’t count for my argument, and Australians are not quite what I mean.”

      The butler, who was offering liqueurs, was seen to speak confidentially to Junius, who looked towards his father, made as if to speak, and thought better of it. The elder Mr Bandicott was once more holding the table.

      “My archaeological studies,” he said, “and my son’s devotion to sport are apt to circumscribe the interest of my visits to this country. I do not spend more than a couple of days in London, and when I am there the place is empty. Sometimes I regret that I have not attempted to see more of English society in recent years, for there are many figures in it I would like to meet. There are some acquaintances, too, that I should be delighted to revive. Do you know Sir Edward Leithen, Mr Claybody? He was recently, I think the British Attorney General.”

      Mr Claybody nodded. “I know him very well. We have just briefed him in a big case.”

      “Sir Edward Leithen visited us two years ago as the guest of our Bar Association. His address was one of the most remarkable I have ever listened to. It was on John Marshall—the finest tribute ever paid to that great man, and one which I venture to say no American could have equalled. I had very little talk with him, but what I had impressed me profoundly with the breadth of his outlook and the powers of his mind. Yes, I should like to meet Sir Edward Leithen again.”

      The company had risen and were moving towards the drawing-room.

      “Now I wonder,” Mr Claybody was saying, “I heard that Leithen was somewhere in Scotland. I wonder if I could get him up for a few days to Haripol. Then I could bring him over here.”

      An awful joy fell upon Sir Archie’s soul. He realised anew the unplumbed preposterousness of life.

      Ere they reached the drawing-room Junius took Agatha aside.

      “Look here, Miss Agatha, I want you to help me. The gillies have been a little too active. They’ve gathered in some wretched hobo they found looking at the river, and they’ve annexed a journalist who stuck his nose inside the gates. It’s the journalist that’s worrying me. From his card he seems to be rather a swell in his way—represents the Monitor and writes for my father’s New York paper. He gave the gillies a fine race for their money, and now he’s sitting cursing in the garage and vowing every kind of revenge. It won’t do to antagonise the Press, so we’d better let him out and grovel to him, if he wants apologies…The fact is, we’re not in a very strong position, fending off the newspapers from Harald Blacktooth because of this ridiculous John Macnab. If you could let the fellow out it would be casting oil upon troubled waters. You could smooth him down far better than me.”

      “But what about the other?” A hobo, you say! That’s a tramp, isn’t it?”

      “Oh, tell Angus to let him out too. Here are the keys of both garages. I don’t want to turn this place into a lock-up. Angus won’t be pleased, but we have to keep a sharp watch for John Macnab to-morrow, and it’s bad tactics in a campaign to cumber yourself with prisoners.”

      The two threaded mysterious passages and came out into a moonlit stable-yard. Junius handed the girl a great electric torch. “Tell the fellow we eat dirt for our servants’ officiousness. Offer him supper, and—I tell you what—ask him to lunch the day after to-morrow. No, that’s Muirtown day. Find out his address and we’ll write to him and give him first chop at the Viking. Blame it all on the gillies.”

      Agatha unlocked the door of the big garage and to her surprise found it brilliantly lit with electric light. Mr Crossby was sitting in the driver’s seat of a large motor-car, smoking a pipe and composing a story for his paper. At the sight of Agatha he descended hastily.

      “We’re so sorry,” said the girl. “It’s all been a stupid mistake. But, you know, you shouldn’t have run away. Mr Bandicott had to make rules to keep off poachers, and you СКАЧАТЬ