Frenchman's Creek

"He must do it by night then, when I am in bed and asleep."

"Possibly he does. At any rate, he will not dare to do it much longer. It will be vastly amusing to stop his little game. I suppose there are many creeks and inlets round your coast here?"

"No doubt. Harry could tell you better than I."

"And the country hereabouts is sparsely inhabited. Navron is the only big house in the district I understand."

"Yes, I suppose it is."

"How ideal for a law-breaker. I almost wish I were a pirate myself. And if I knew the house was without masculine protection, and that the lady of the manor was as beautiful as you, Dona…"

"Yes, Rockingham?"

"If I were a pirate, I repeat, knowing all these things, I should be most tempted to return to the district again and again."

Dona yawned once more, and threw away the mutilated daisy.

"But you are not a pirate, my dear Rockingham, you are only a grossly spoilt, overdressed, exceedingly decadent member of the aristocracy, with too great a fondness for women and for alcohol. So shall we leave the subject alone? I am becoming rather bored."

She got up from her seat, and began to wander towards the house.

"Time was," he said casually, "when you were not bored either by me or by my conversation."

"You flatter yourself."

"Do you remember a certain evening at Vauxhall?"

"I remember many evenings at Vauxhall, and one in particular, when because I had drunk two glasses of wine and was feeling intolerably sleepy, you had the audacity to kiss me and I was too idle to protest. I disliked you ever afterwards, and myself more so."

They stopped at the long window, and he gazed at her, a flush on his face. "What a delightful speech," he said. "The Cornish air has made you almost venomous. Or possibly it is the result of the fever."

"Possibly it is."

"Were you as churlish as this to the curious-looking manservant who attended you?"

"You had better ask him."

"I think I shall. If I were Harry I should ask him many questions, and all of an extremely personal nature."

"Who's this, what's this all about?" and Harry himself joined them, flinging himself down in a chair in the salon, wiping his forehead with a lace handkerchief. "What are you discussing, both of you?"

"We were discussing your manservant," said Rockingham, with a brilliant smile, "so strange that Dona would permit no one else to attend her while she was ill."

"Yes, by heaven, he's a rum-looking devil, and no mistake. Wouldn't trust him too far, if I were you, Dona. What d'you see in the fellow?"

"He is quiet, he is discreet, he walks soundlessly, and nobody else in the house does those things. Therefore I determined I should be nursed by him and by no one else."

"Extremely pleasant for the manservant," said Rockingham, polishing his nails.

"Yes, hang it," blustered Harry, "Rock's quite right, you know, Dona. The fellow might have taken infernal liberties. It was a damned risky thing to do. You lying weak and helpless in bed, and the fellow creeping about round you. He's not like an old retainer either, I know very little about him."

"Oh, so he has not been in your service long?" said Rockingham.

"No. Hang it, Rock, we never come to Navron, as you know. And I'm so confounded idle I never know half the time who my servants are. I've a mind to dismiss him."

"You will do nothing of the kind," said Dona; "William shall remain in my service for as long as it pleases me.

"All right, all right, no need to be tricky about it," said Harry, picking up Duchess and fondling her, "but it looks a trifle queer to have the fellow hanging about your bedroom. Here he is anyway, bringing a letter from someone. He looks as if he were sickening for some fever himself." Dona glanced at the door, and there was William, with a note in his hand, and his face paler than usual, and there was something of strain in his eyes.

"What's this, eh?" said Harry.

"A letter from Lord Godolphin, Sir Harry," answered William. "His man has just brought it, and waits for an answer."

Harry tore open the letter, and then threw it across to Rockingham with a laugh. "The hounds are gathering, Rock," he said, "we shall have some fun out of this."

Rockingham read the note with a smile, and then tore it into fragments.

"What answer will you give?" he said.

Harry examined the back of his spaniel, pulling aside the dog's coat. "She has another patch of eczema here, confound it," he said, "that pomade I'm trying is no use at all. What d'you say? Oh, yes, an answer for Godolphin. Tell the man, will you, William, that her ladyship and I will be delighted to receive his lordship and the other gentlemen this evening for supper."

"Very good, sir," said William.

"And what invitation is this?" asked Dona, patting her curls in the mirror, "and who shall I be delighted to receive?"

"George Godolphin, Tommy Eustick, Philip Rashleigh, and half-a-dozen others," said Harry, flinging the dog off his knee, "and they're going to catch the froggie at last, aren't they, Duchess, and we shall be in at the kill."