The Runaways, Nat Gould [e reader comics .TXT] 📗

was well known amongst sporting men, and Felix soon discovered who and what he was.

He chuckled to himself as he thought what a commotion it would cause if Mrs. Courtly knew about Janet Todd's connection with her husband. He foresaw a profitable harvest from this source, but had no intention of putting Warren Courtly on his guard at present.

He had written many begging letters in the course of his life, and several of them had proved effective. It occurred to him it would be a neat stroke of business to write to Mrs. Courtly for assistance, and after several attempts he decided to dispatch the one already alluded to.

It reached Irene safely, with the result that Felix was enriched by five pounds. He was quite proud of this achievement, for he had doubts as to the success of his missive.

He wrote back thanking her, and repeating that he would refund the money at some future date.

This was how Irene came to have a knowledge of Felix Hoffman. His reply was sent on to Hazelwell, and she decided to show both letters to the Squire.

"I hope you will not think me very foolish," she said, as she handed him the letters; "you will gather from them what has taken place."

Redmond Maynard read them, and said—

"This man, whoever he is, must be a clever rogue, it is a form of begging-letter writing I have never seen before. I do not blame you for sending the money, although had you consulted me I should have felt more inclined to hand over the matter to the police. You must not send him any more money," said the Squire.

"Do you think he will write for more?"

"Most decidedly, especially as his first letter was such a success."

"I had thought of going to Feltham the next time I am in London, and finding out where he lives and the kind of man he is," she said.

"You must not do anything of the kind. There is no telling where he is; at any rate, you must not venture there alone," he replied.

"It is merely from a desire to gratify my curiosity that I wish to go. I am sure no harm will come of it."

The Squire shook his head, as he replied—

"The letter has cost you five pounds, let the matter drop and think no more about it."

"Feltham is not far from Kempton Park," said Irene. "I wonder if Warren knows anything about the place?"

"Probably. Ask him when he returns home," said the Squire. "By the way, Irene, I had almost forgotten it is New Year's Day. We are not a very jolly household for the occasion, but we must not commence another year with gloomy thoughts and melancholy countenances."

"I hope this year will bring Ulick home again," she said.

"So do I, with all my heart," said the Squire. "There's Eli coming up the walk, I wonder what he wants."

"Shall I tell Bob to send him in when he arrives?" she asked.

"Yes, do, Irene."

Eli Todd came into the room, and wished them a cheery Happy New Year. "We have made a good start at the stud, although I had a terribly anxious time of it," he said.

"Made a good start, what do you mean?" said the Squire. "There are no foals yet?"

"Only one," replied Eli, smiling, "and he was precious near being born before midnight. As luck would have it, he came into the world a quarter of an hour after, so that is all right."

"But there was no mare due to foal so early," remarked the Squire.

"Only old Honeysuckle," said Eli, with a smile.

"You mean to tell me the old mare has a foal? I was certain it would be the middle of the month before that event came off," said the Squire.

"I knew you were wrong, but I did not contradict you," replied Eli.

"Then if you knew I was wrong, it was your business to tell me, and you ought to have done so," said the Squire.

Eli was a privileged servant, and although always respectful to the Squire, occasionally answered him bluntly.

"It is not an easy matter to contradict you, Squire; you generally like to have your own way," said Eli.

Irene laughed, and said she must certainly side with him in his remark.

"That is rather hard upon me," replied the Squire. "I had no idea I was so obstinate."

"Oh, but you are," laughed Irene, "and once you have made up your mind you stick to it through thick and thin."

"That is about a correct summing up of the situation," said Eli.

"What sort of a youngster is it?" asked the Squire.

"Very promising, so far as I can judge at this stage; he ought to make a good one."

"Do let us go and see him," said Irene.

The Squire walked to the window and looked out. The snow still lay deep upon the ground, but it was hard and crisp, and afforded good walking.

"I think we may venture," he said. "Will you come, Irene?"

"With pleasure, I will not be more than a few minutes putting on my things." She left the room, and returned enveloped in a seal-skin jacket, trimmed with heavy sable, and a toque to match. She looked very attractive, and the Squire glanced at her admiringly. Eli Todd thought he had never seen a prettier woman, and wondered how Ulick could have been so foolish as to leave the way clear for Warren Courtly to win her.

They thoroughly enjoyed the walk in the brisk, frosty air, and when they arrived at the stud farm Eli took them to Honeysuckle's box.

He quietly opened the door, and, stepping inside, they saw a pretty sight. The mare was standing sideways to them, and as they entered the foal looked at them with big, inquiring eyes. He sidled up close to his mother, and playfully pushed her with his nose. He was a well-made colt, long on the leg, and with a beautiful head and well-shaped body.

The Squire eyed him critically for several minutes, and then said—

"He ought to make a good one, there is plenty of room for him to fill out and develop. I am glad Honeysuckle has thrown such a good one, it will probably be her last."

"I thought you would like him," said Eli.

Irene went up to him and patted him gently. The colt was not at all alarmed, and sniffed at her jacket and fur with evident relish.

"He's a dear little fellow," she said, "and I hope he will win a good race or two for you. I should like to see him win."

"You may have that pleasure next year," said the Squire, "that is if he goes on all right; so many promising foals turn out badly, one never knows what may happen."

Bersak put his head in the door, and the colt started back in alarm. It was his first introduction to another animal, and he evidently regarded Bersak as some wild savage beast of prey. Honeysuckle turned round, and looked straight at the intruder, but she and Bersak were friends and had met many times before.

Eli thought of the scene the previous night, and wished he could tell the Squire he had seen Ulick. He had given his word not to mention the visit, and therefore his lips were sealed.

"We will walk through the plantation on the way home," said the Squire, "it is a short cut, and I feel I shall be ready for luncheon when we get in."

They set off at a brisk pace, Bersak following at their heels. It was a pleasant walk, and hares and rabbits frequently ran across their path, while the pheasants strutted about proudly, their brilliant plumage affording a sharp contrast to the snow.

After luncheon the Squire had his usual nap, and Irene looked over the various papers and magazines.

A paragraph caught her eye, and she read it with feelings of wonder and amazement. It was to the effect that Mr. Warren Courtly, of Anselm Manor, had disposed of Holme Farm for the sum of ten thousand pounds, and this was instanced as another proof of the decreased value of land.

"Sold the Holme Farm, there must be some mistake!" thought Irene, and read the paragraph again.

"He never mentioned anything about it to me, and I know of no reason why he should sell it. I wonder where these rumours originate; they have no business to insert them in the paper until they ascertain whether they are correct."

She was troubled over it, although she did not believe it to be true. The Holme Farm was one of the best on the Anselm estate, and even if Warren had been compelled to sell it, she thought he might have given the Squire the first refusal. She failed to understand the meaning of it, and was still puzzling over the matter when the Squire awoke and looked at her through his half-closed eyes.

He saw something had disturbed her, and, sitting up in his chair, inquired the cause.

"There is an announcement in the paper I cannot understand," she said. "This is it."

He read the paragraph and said, "What an abominable statement to make. It must be some other farm of that name, and Warren's name has been inadvertently inserted as that of the owner."

He looked at it again, and saw it was an announcement made by the auctioneers who sold the property. This made the matter more serious, the sellers would not be likely to make such a mistake.

"Warren would never have sold it without telling me he was about to do so," said Irene.

"He has done a very foolish thing if he has sold it," said the Squire. "He cannot possibly be short of money with the income he has. Ten thousand pounds is a ridiculous sum for the Holme Farm, it ought to be worth five thousand more at least. He will explain what it all means when he returns home."

Notwithstanding he spoke confidently, the Squire had his misgivings. He had heard vague rumours from his brother magistrates, when he met them as chairman of the county bench and of the quarter sessions, that all was not well with Warren Courtly. He paid very little attention to the statements, treating them as so much idle gossip, but they came home to him forcibly now. He had heard that Warren Courtly had been going the pace on the racecourse and gambling heavily, but he thought Warren quite capable of looking after himself. They passed a somewhat quiet afternoon and evening, for the announcement disturbed them both, and Irene was anxious for the next morning to come, in the hope it might bring her some explanation from her husband.

It was quite true that Warren Courtly had sold the Holme Farm for ten thousand pounds, and the bulk of the money received from it went to pay his debts. He was in no very enviable frame of mind when he stepped into the Windsor train at Waterloo on his way to Feltham to see Janet. He was heartily sick and tired of her, and of the deception he had to practise in connection with her. Moreover, Janet was becoming troublesome, and, what was still worse, homesick. She was constantly imploring him to allow her to return to her father, promising to keep his secret and never to breathe a word about their intimacy. Warren Courtly would not hear of it. He knew of Eli