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‘Well, that is Grandpapa’s fault too,’ she said.
He tried another tack. ‘Tell me this! If he knew of your exploit, do you think your Neil would approve of it?’
She replied unhesitatingly: ‘Oh, no! In fact, I expect he will be very angry, and give me a tremendous scold, but he will forgive me, because he knows I would never serve him such a trick. Besides, he must perceive that I am doing it all for his sake. And I daresay,’ she added reflectively, ‘that he won’t be so very much surprised, because he thinks I’m spoilt, too, and he knows all the bad things I’ve done. Indeed, he has often rescued me from a fix, when I was a little girl.’ Her eyes brightened; she exclaimed: ‘Why, that would be the very thing! Only I think it ought to be a dire peril this time. Then he can rescue me from it, and restore me to Grandpapa, and Grandpapa would be so grateful that he would be obliged to consent to the marriage!’ She frowned in an effort of concentration. ‘I shall have to think of a dire peril. I must say, it’s very difficult!’
Sir Gareth, who experienced no difficulty at all in thinking of it, said in a damping voice that by the time she had contrived to advise Neil of her danger it might be too late for him to effect a rescue.
She rather regretfully acknowledged the justice of this observation, further disclosing that she was not perfectly sure of Neil’s direction, since he had gone to London, for a medical inspection, after which he would report at the Horse Guards. ‘And goodness knows how long that will take! And the dreadful part of it is that if the doctors think him quite well again, he may be sent back to Spain almost immediately! That is why it is imperative that I should lose not a moment in – in prosecuting my campaign!’ She jumped up, saying with a challenging look: ‘I am very much obliged to you, sir, and now, if you please, we will part, for I believe Huntingdon is almost ten miles away, and if there is no stage, and you don’t wish to take me there in your carriage, I shall have to walk, so that it is high time I was setting forward.’
She then held out her hand, with all the air of a great lady taking gracious leave of an acquaintance, but upon Sir Gareth’s not only taking it in his, but maintaining a firm hold on it, her grandeur abruptly deserted her, and she stamped her foot, and commanded him to let her go instantly.
Sir Gareth was in a dilemma. It was plainly useless to continue arguing with Amanda, and he had seen enough of her to be tolerably sure that an attempt to frighten her into disclosing her grandfather’s name and direction would fail. If he carried into execution his threat to hand her into the charge of the Parish officer, nothing was more certain than that she would give this worthy the slip. Leave her to her own absurd devices? No: it was impossible, he decided. Headstrong and, indeed, extremely naughty she might be, but she was as innocent as a kitten, and by far too lovely to be allowed to wander unescorted about the country.
‘If you don’t let me go this instant, I shall bite you!’ stormed Amanda, tugging fruitlessly at his long fingers.
‘Then not only will you not be offered a seat in my curricle, but you will get your ears soundly boxed into the bargain,’ he replied cheerfully.
‘How dare you –’ She broke off suddenly, stopped clawing at his hand, and raised a face alight with joyful expectation. ‘Oh, will you take me up in your curricle, sir? Thank you!’
He would not have been in the least surprised had she flung her arms round his neck in her transport of gratitude, but she contented herself with squeezing his hand tightly between both of hers, and bestowing upon him a rapturous smile. Registering a silent vow not to let so trusting a damsel out of his sight until he could restore her to her proper guardian, he put her into a chair, and went off to inform his astonished groom that he must relinquish his seat in the curricle to a lady, and stand up behind as best he might.
Trotton thought it a strange start, but when, a few minutes later, he clapped eyes on the unexpected passenger, the disturbing suspicion that his master had run mad darted into his mind. There were plenty of gentlemen in whom such conduct would have seemed natural, but Sir Gareth, in Trotton’s experience, had never been one to fall into the petticoat line. Sir Gareth had not told any member of his household what his errand was to Brancaster Park, but all his servants, from his butler down to the kitchen porter, had guessed what it must be, and it seemed to Trotton the height of insanity for him to succumb just at this moment to the lures thrown out by the pretty bit of muslin he was handing up into his curricle. A nice set-out it would be if he were to be seen driving such a prime article as that down the road! He wondered whether perhaps his master had a touch of the sun, and was trying to remember what ought to be done for sufferers from sun-stroke when Sir Gareth’s voice recalled his wandering wits.
‘Are you deaf, Trotton? I said, let ’em go!’
Four
A couple of miles beyond the cross-road from Cambridge to St Neots the road forked. Sir Gareth took the right fork without hesitation. His youthful companion, who had (as she artlessly informed him) hitherto travelled in no more sporting vehicle than a gig, which Grandpapa sometimes permitted her to drive, was hugely enjoying herself, and was too ruthlessly intent on discovering whether her protector was a whip celebrated enough to merit the title of Nonesuch to notice a weatherbeaten signpost which bore, in faded lettering, the simple legend: To St Ives. It was otherwise with the faithful henchman. Standing precariously behind his master, and maintaining his balance by a firm grip on the curricle’s lowered hood, he ventured to intervene. He had gathered, from Amanda’s prattle, that Sir Gareth had engaged himself to drive her to Huntingdon, and he considered it his duty to point out to Sir Gareth that he had taken the wrong fork.
Restraining an impulse to curse his too-helpful retainer, Sir Gareth said calmly: ‘Thank you, Trotton, I know the road.’
But the mischief was done. Bristling with suspicion, Amanda demanded: ‘Is this not the road to Huntingdon?’
It had been Sir Gareth’s intention to postpone for as long as possible the disclosure that he was taking Amanda not to Huntingdon but to Brancaster Park; but thus directly questioned he saw nothing for it but to tell her the truth.
He replied: ‘No, but I have a better plan for you.’
‘You promised you would drive me to Huntingdon!’ she cried hotly.
‘Oh, no, I didn’t! I offered you a seat in my curricle: no more than that! You cannot have forgotten that I told you I would for no persuasion leave you in a public inn.’
‘Stop! Set me down at once!’ she ordered. ‘I won’t go with you! I was never so taken in! Why – why, you are nothing but an abductor!’
He could not help laughing at this, which naturally made her very angry. She raged at him for several minutes, but as soon as she paused for breath he said soothingly: ‘If you will be quiet for a moment, and listen to what I have to say, I’ll tell you where I am taking you.’
‘It is not of the slightest consequence, because I won’t go with you anywhere! You are a deceiver, and a wicked person, and very likely you mean to murder me!’
‘Then you are now in dire peril, and what you should do is to summon your Brigade-Major to the rescue immediately,’ he returned. ‘A message to the Horse Guards will undoubtedly find him. Tell me his name, and I will engage not only to bring him to you with all possible speed, but also to refrain from murdering you in the meantime.’
‘I hope very much that he will murder you!’ she declared through shut teeth. ‘And I expect he will, when he knows how treacherously you have behaved to me!’
‘But you can’t expect him to murder me if you don’t tell him of my treachery,’ he pointed out, in a very reasonable way. ‘If I were you, I would lose not a moment in summoning him to your side. Trotton shall travel post to London with a message for him. I shouldn’t be astonished if I were a dead man within two days.’
From the sparkling look in her eyes, it was to be inferred that the prospect strongly attracted her. It seemed, for a moment, as though she were on the point of divulging her Brigade-Major’s name, but just as Sir Gareth was silently congratulating himself on the success of his tactics, she said suddenly: ‘I see what it is! It is all a trick, so that you may discover where I live, and ruin my scheme! Well, I shall not send a message to Neil!’
‘You know, Amanda,’ he said seriously, ‘you may just as well tell me what I wish to know, because I am going to discover it, whether you do or whether you don’t.’
‘No! How can you?’ she demanded.
