"Ah, I thought that would come in the nature of a surprise."

"But you said it was mortgaged?"

"Quite so, but I shall get a sum much in excess of the mortgage."

"But who----?"

"That American fellow--Conlan; not a bad chap, not at all a bad chap."

Lady Featherstone looked a trifle hurt. She looked more so when her n.o.ble spouse added:

"So I've invited him down with us for a fortnight to look over the place."

"Claude! Whatever has taken possession of you? I thought we had done with that man. And besides, I am not going to bury myself in Devonshire at the height of the season."

"If you don't, my dear, there is likely to be no season--for us. You must look realities in the face. If I can sell Badholme----"

"But you said you had sold it!"

"Tut--tut! It is as good as sold. He can't refuse it after having stayed there with us. Besides, the fellow is as rich as Croesus!"

It was accordingly settled. Featherstone sent volleys over the telephone.

"Get the place thoroughly redecorated, Ayscough. It has to be finished in three weeks. Armies of workers.... And the blue room on the first floor, put in a new ceiling, something elaborate. What's that? Can't do it in three weeks? But it _has_ to be done. I leave it to you, my dear Ayscough.... Oh, the garden wants seeing to. I must have the garden put straight.... And the paths graveled.... A few sheep in the park might lend a nice effect.... Don't talk about impossibilities. This is a very urgent matter. Do you think you could hire half a dozen horses?"

When Claude heard the extraordinary news that the family was leaving for Little Badholme in three weeks' time he wondered what was in the wind.

When he subsequently learned that one James Conlan was to visit them as guest, his suspicions overleaped his delight. Angela, the imperturbable, merely went on reading Bernard Shaw.

CHAPTER V

FROST AND FIRE

Little Badholme hung on the sheer edge of a precipice. Its hundred acres of park and meadow wooed the blue waters of the Atlantic on the western side, and climbed dizzy heights on the southern, affording the spectator an uninterrupted view of the Dartmoor Tors. The front of the house faced seawards and, in bad weather, the spindrift, hurled over the cliff, drenched the windows and the rather unsightly stucco which the position of the house rendered necessary.

Featherstone had shown considerable ac.u.men in giving Jim the corner room on the first floor. It looked over country of unparalleled beauty.

Patchwork farmlands stretched away, on the one hand, extending to the estuary of the Teign; whilst from the windows on the western side the rolling ocean shone under the summer sun. All the best furniture had been placed in that room, including a genuine Hepplewhite suite of beautiful design. Jim had no eye for antiques, but he had a fine appreciation of scenery.

Ten days had pa.s.sed on wings of magic. He saw Angela every day and Claude all day. Featherstone was perfectly charming. He could not have exhibited greater solicitude for the comfort of his guest had he been the Shah of Persia or the Prince of Wales. Lady Featherstone was polite, and no more.

Angela was frigid. She seemed to be beyond his power to excite. Once or twice she showed a slight interest in his actions or reminiscences. She had even openly admired his wonderful horsemanship; but she never failed to make perfectly clear the huge gulf that loomed between a "cowboy" and a daughter of British aristocracy.

The ingenuous Claude was feeling extremely uncomfortable. He could not bring himself to believe that his father's extraordinary behavior was genuine. Politeness was one thing, but flattery was another. All that "attention" seemed so out of place with His Lordship, who was notoriously vain of his name and antecedents. Claude himself was a little sick of family pride. He had even on one occasion intimated to his mother that he knew for a fact that the first Featherstone got his Letters Patent for the n.o.ble act of a.s.sa.s.sinating a certain Duke whose wife Henry Eighth had taken a violent liking for, a remark which so upset Her Ladyship that she took to bed for ten days.

On convenient occasions Featherstone appropriated Jim to himself and deftly led the conversation into channels most dear to him. What did Conlan think of the property?

It was by pure accident that Claude stumbled across the plot. Featherstone was speaking to Ayscough on the telephone, on the question of the price of Little Badholme. Claude was flabbergasted--25,000 for a place that was leaky and draughty through half the year, and which showed a tendency to slide seaward! The whole business was disgusting. He waited until his father had finished, and then interrogated him.

"Pater, you--you aren't trying to sell this place to Conlan?"

Featherstone shrugged his shoulders.

"Mr. Conlan approached me on the matter."

"But it's not worth that price."

The n.o.ble lord resented this remark.

"Claude, isn't this a matter that concerns Mr. Conlan and me? It's not at all pleasant to find you--eavesdropping."

"Eavesdropping--great Scott! You don't mean you think...."

Featherstone came up to him.

"I didn't mean that. But this is a matter of business. Mr. Conlan wants to buy and I want to sell. He's a perfectly free agent in the matter."

He abruptly left the room. Claude felt sick, humiliated. It was all so perfectly clear. Jim knew nothing about English property. It was only natural he should place himself in Featherstone's hands. He determined to put a stop to such a swindle as was contemplated. But his plan to warn Jim was frustrated by the later realization that Jim was madly in love with Angela. This astonishing fact was sufficient to drive everything else from his mind. He had no delusion as far as Angela was concerned. Dozens of men had tried their luck on Angela, and Angela remained as frozen as the North Pole. Poor Jim! He blamed himself for having been instrumental in bringing this meeting about. In her proud heart Angela would merely despise any advances that Jim was foolish enough to make. He watched Jim carefully for the next two days. The evidence thus gained was painful to bear. The honest, magnificent, unsophisticated Jim was torn and tortured by a mad, hopeless love. Claude could stand it no longer.

"Jim," he said, "don't think me impertinent. I can't help noticing--you're in love."

Jim started and the color flamed up in his cheeks.

"Wal."

"It's mad, Jim, mad. She has no heart. You don't know her as I do. She's my sister and I love her, but I can't bear to see you living on hopes that are doomed to be fruitless. If you speak of this to her she'll hurt you.

She doesn't mean it. It's her temperament. Don't you see that to a girl of Angela's social status a proposal from a man--like you is----"

Jim's eyes narrowed. He didn't like this.

"Jim," added Claude swiftly, "don't do me an injustice. I'd be d.a.m.ned proud to have you as a brother-in-law. But don't court disappointment and pain by speaking to her----"

"Who said I was going to speak?"

"I can see it--in your eyes."

Jim shrugged his shoulders.

"You're right. I am," he jerked out.

Claude drew in his breath with a little hiss. Jim suddenly swung round on him.

"See here, I'm not quitting on this. I've never been a quitter and I've clinched bigger propositions than this. What's wrong with me, eh? I guess I've bin taking a lot lying down of late. Last night I see it all--cut and dried. There ain't nothin' in this blood business--nothin'. If your family sprang from William the Conqueror I guess mine was there at the time. If there's anything in that Adam and Eve yarn, I reckon they were my grandparents as well as yours. What's wrong with me? Am I blind, lame, consumptive? See here, kid, I know what it is to work. I know what it is to starve. I've never stolen or lied or murdered.... There's never been a gal on this earth that had cut any ice with me. I've bin too busy working to go galivanting after skirts. But this 'ere's different. I--I--wal, I guess I love her some. Oh, I know she's proud and cold and thinks there ain't nothin' in trousers good enough for her. But I'm obstinate and I'm free with my tongue--at times. So we both got our faults. They kinder equalize. Anyway, I love her, and that's good enough excuse for anyone who cares a d.a.m.n about himself. And there ain't no law on this earth, sir, that says a man can't put a straight proposition to a gal he loves--no, by G.o.d!"

There was something different about him. He had changed in one day. The old nervousness had gone. He was dogged, determined. There was nothing to be done with him. He meant to speak to Angela, though she took the compliment as a dire insult. Claude, fascinated by the ring of his ba.s.s voice and the flash of fire from his amazing eyes, wondered if, after all, he had not cause for courage--and optimism.

But something strange happened the following morning. Angela, with a smile, asked Jim to go riding with her. It was the first time she had expressed the slightest desire for his company, and it sent thrills of delight running down his spine. They took the best two of the borrowed horses, and under a perfect July sky rode out into the moors.