Chapter VIII: Captain Barton’s Plan

Captain Barton did not go to bed early that night. He strode up and down the road excitedly, smoking a big cigar. So this was what the Hon. Iris Dearn had come to, the girl he loved, the girl who might have married the highest noble in England--sly meetings in lanes with--a groom! His strides grew longer and more savage. What power the confounded beggar had over her to make her sink so low! And, of course, he would make full use of that influence. He would marry her presently, unless things were stopped immediately. But how was this to be done? If only he could have summoned Lady Dearn and had her as his ally now! But even if he cabled the following day it would take at least five weeks before she could arrive, and much could happen in that time.

He kicked a stone lying on the road, viciously. If only he could go to Rees and deal with him as he deserved. The hand on his cane tightened. But what was the use? It would perhaps only make Iris hate him, and--deep down in Ralph’s shallow, enraged heart there were grave doubts as to whether he really could mete out justice in that form to the driver. He had the advantage in size, certainly; all the same he did not quite relish the task of attacking Rees.

But how in the world was he to save his childhood’s companion? He could not stand by and see her life ruined; besides, it was so beastly humiliating to be beaten, knocked clean out of the running, by a common groom! He bit his cigar fiercely. What could be done? What a fool Amy had been to allow a thing like this to go to such a length. She could so easily have taken Iris away when the first dangerous symptoms appeared. She was not fit to be a chaperone; he would inform Lady Dearn clearly on that point. But how was he to deal with this complex situation? He had felt deeply concerned when Iris had spoken so plainly to him the other afternoon. He had realised how far-reaching the fellow’s influence must be, but even then he had not supposed it could have come to real love-making between them. He thought he might have saved it from ripening into that. But now the thing looked as if it had already done so.

If only he could find some weapon against Rees, something discreditable, some secret fault in this posing hero! But so far he had been unable to do so, and, till evidences were forthcoming, how was he to act? Iris had definitely refused to leave the place and go touring. So there seemed only one course open to him at present--to try and keep the girl out of the driver’s way as much as possible and write to Lady Dearn by the next mail and tell her to come out at once. Of course he could cable, but on second thoughts decided he would not do that. It would be impossible to explain a situation like this in a wire. No, he must write, and in the meantime do all in his power to keep Iris away from the man who held such sway over her.

Another course presented itself to him: he would tell Iris that he loved her and implore her to become his wife. Perhaps, after all, her attachment to Rees was only a love of romance. Iris was so accustomed to be made love to that perhaps she had found it irksome to be without an admirer, and for want of a better man had accepted the driver’s homage. Yes, in all probability this was the only reason for the intimacy. Now he would step in and make open love to her, and tell her frankly he had come out to win her. He would pour his ardent affection upon her and show her how vastly superior his love was to the driver’s. Women were often turned from one man to another; he had noticed that many times, and the most ardent man generally won. But it was difficult to let himself go under Amy’s unromantic eye and she rarely left Iris with him for any length of time. She had really done her duty as a chaperone where he was concerned--a thousand pities she had not been equally conscientious in the other direction! But, of course, Amy could never have given a thought to the possibility of an intimacy springing up between her cousin and a groom. She could not be expected to be prepared for such a preposterous emergency; only, when she did see danger signals, as, of course, she must have done, she ought to have taken Iris away immediately.

But how was he to get Iris away by herself so that he would have plenty of time to tell her of his love?

Suddenly an idea dawned upon his not too quick intelligence. He would arrange a trip to the mountains with Amy and Iris. Of course, it would be a little difficult to persuade them to go without the guide, but he would tell them of all his mountaineering exploits, and they would soon be willing to trust him. If he could arrange the trip for the following day circumstances would play into his hands, for he remembered hearing Miss Smith telling Amy that Rees was taking a big party to a waterfall many miles away, and that they were starting early in the morning. That would be his opportunity to go without the guide--he would be elsewhere and not available. Yes, he must arrange it for the following day, and once they were on the way he could easily manage the rest. The mountains were extremely steep, and Amy, who was too stout to climb, always avoided it; she would wait in the car while they went to the top of the ridge. He would take the chauffeur up with them, so that Amy would not think he and Iris were by themselves--he had a feeling that Amy objected to his being alone with the girl. Of course, as soon as they had climbed a little way he would send the man ahead and then he would have the chance he desired; and he would make full use of it, too! His steps slackened. His rage died down. His chances would come to-morrow, and he would at least make such an impression on Iris that she would be willing to listen to him again.

Girls had always liked him. He was a fine, good-looking chap; he had often been told so and his own mirror corroborated the fact. His hand moved up to his perfectly shaved, dented chin--girls liked dimpled chins, he had noticed. Iris might not be so hard to win after all, once he came into the open and showed her his real intentions. He had hidden too much in the trench of their childhood’s friendship. Now he would come out from that and declare himself her lover. This would at once put a different tone to the relationship between them. He had been foolish not to do so long before. But surely it was not too late yet. What chances could a common driver have against a man like himself!

Captain Barton walked back to the house, calm and content. He had solved the difficulty, after all. Women loved fervour--he could be fervent; experience had proved that. He would begin to-morrow, and even if Iris did not respond straight away--he hardly expected this--he would make an impression, and as the days went by it would deepen, until gradually--she would succumb. Women could never resist real ardour! He made his way to his room, pacified, and in a hopeful frame of mind.

He was blissfully ignorant of the fact that ardent love-making by the wrong man would be most trying and repellent to a girl of Iris’s temperament. But Captain Barton slept the peaceful slumber of a man who thinks he is on the road to victory. It was characteristic of him that never once had his fervid devotion kept him awake for more than ten minutes after he put his head on the pillow.