Chapter XXXVIII: Lord Deseret Helps

Joyce solved the lodging difficulty off-hand, and old Seth, assured of bed and board, gave himself up to the impossible task of finding a lost girl who had no desire to be found.

Jim made him promise to report himself each day, so that he could keep some track of his doings. He wrote down his address on a card and put it in his pocket, and watched him go forth the first day with many misgivings.

He saw him go out into the crowded street, bent as he had never been before, peering intently into the bewildering maze of hurrying faces, with a look of dogged perplexity as to where to go first on his own sad gray face. The throng bumped into him, and jostled him to and fro, and passed on, unheeding or vituperative, and at last he turned and went slowly out of sight, and Jim wondered if he would ever see him again.

He was dining that night with Lord Deseret, and determined to ask his advice on the matter. The very look of that calm white face gave one the impression of incomprehensibly vast experience and unusual insight into the depths of human nature. He might be able to suggest something.

My lord's immediate object, apart from his liking for the boy, was to learn the result of their visit to Carne. He had blamed himself, but not unduly, for the incautious words that had set the ball rolling. But who on earth would ever have imagined boys of that age in such ignorance of matters so vital?

He chatted pleasantly throughout the dinner, drawing from the ingenuous Jim many a little self-revelation, which all tended to the confirmation of the good opinion he had formed of him. And he found the modesty which acknowledged many lacks, and was not ashamed to ask for explanations of things it did not understand, distinctly refreshing in an age when self-assertion was much to the fore. He noticed too a lessening of the previous boyish gaiety and carelessness, and traces of the clouds which had suddenly obscured his sun.

"And how did you fare at Carne?" he asked, as soon as they were alone. "I feel somewhat guilty in that matter, you see. From what I know of it I can imagine you heard upsetting and discomforting things. Perhaps now I can be of some assistance to you."

"You are very kind to me, sir, and I wanted to ask your advice. But in that matter"--he shook his head despondently--"I don't see how any one can help. It's all a tangle, but in my own mind I'm sure Jack must be Lady Susan Sandys's boy, and that means that I--that I am----"

"You are yourself, my dear lad, and, unless I am very much mistaken, you will render a very good account of yourself when your chance comes."

"I will do my best, sir, but that does not alter the fact that I am out of it as far as Carne is concerned. And that means a great deal to me. Not that I want it for itself, but--well, there are other things----" And he stuck, with a choking in the throat.

"Don't tell me anything you don't want to, but if I can help I would very much like to."

"It's this way, sir. Jack and I are both in love with Gracie----"

"And who is Gracie, now?"

"Grace Eager--she is the sister of Mr. Eager, our curate at Wynsloe. It is he who has done everything for us----"

"He's a very fine fellow, then, and has done good work."

"Oh, he's the finest man in the world. We were growing up little savages, running wild on the flats, when he came, and he has made us into men--he and Gracie between them. And Gracie is wonderful and lovely and all that is good. And now----"

"Has she chosen Jack?"

"We are to say nothing more about it for a year--just to wait and see. You see we all grew up together, and she had never thought of us in that way, and it upset everything----"

"I think I understand. Now, my dear boy, will you take it from an old man, who has seen more of the world than perhaps has been good for him, that there is not the slightest ground for your feeling as you do. I knew your father very intimately. We had many failings in common. He behaved as we most of us behaved in those days--according to our lights, or shadows, and in accord with the times in which we lived. I cannot exonerate him any more than the rest of you. Still, do not think too harshly of him! He was the product of his age. Now, what valid grounds have you for believing your brother to be in any way better circumstanced than yourself?"

"He's so much the better man, sir. Jack's got a head on him and will----"

"If you applied that to the peerage generally, I'm afraid you would bar many escutcheons," said the old man, with a smile. "Brains by no means always follow the direct lines of descent. In fact, as you ought to know, a cross strain frequently produces a finer result. From that point of view you may set your mind at ease. As to how the matter is to be settled eventually, that is beyond me. Time works out his own strange solutions of difficulties. I'm afraid you'll have to leave it to him. Then, again, you are both going into this war. If only one of you should come back----"

"Yes, that would settle it. I have been looking to that as the only settlement," said Jim solemnly.

"Meaning that Jack would most likely come back, and that you would most likely not."

"I think that would be the best settlement, sir. The better man should get the prizes, and there can be no question which is the better of us two."

"Jim, my boy,"--and the long thin white hand came down gently on the boy's strong brown one, and rested on it impressively--"there are better things in this world even than brains. Clean hearts, clean consciences, clean lives----"

"Jack has all those, sir."

"And so have you, and they are worth more than all the brains in the world in some people's eyes. Did brains ever win a girl's heart?--or any one else's?"

"I'm afraid I don't know much about them; sir," said a touch of the old Jim.

"And as to the tangle," continued the old man, very well satisfied with his work, "it may be considerably more involved than you imagine. Supposing, for instance, that your father was actually married to the other girl before he married Lady Susan! Where do you find yourselves then? It is by no means impossible--such very strange things were done in those times. I could tell you of infinitely stranger things than that."

"I have hardly thought of it in that light," said Jim.

"Take my advice and think no more of your tangle. Just go ahead with the work you have in hand, and when your chance comes, as it will, make the most of it."

"You have done me good, sir. May I ask you about another matter?"

"Surely, my boy. Another tangle?"

And Jim told him briefly about Kattie, and old Seth's visit and impossible quest.

"He's a fine old fellow, and young Seth saved my life twice. I'd like to help him if I could, but I don't know what I can do. Besides, Kattie was a nice girl. She used to play with us all on the sands, you know."

"You don't know, for certain, that she has come to London?"

"Old Seth seems sure of it."

"Who else was there when you all used to play together on the sands?"

"Oh, Gracie, and Margaret and George Hempath, and Ralph Harben----"

"Who is Ralph Harben?"

"Son of Mr. Harben, Sir George's partner. They're the big army contractors, you know."

"And where is he now?"

"Up here in London. He's in the Dragoons--lieutenant. So is George."

"Any one else?"

"Mr. Eager and Sir George, and Bob Lethem, their groom. They all used to ride over, you see, and we needed all hands, so we used to press Bob into the service."

"And you don't think there is any entanglement there?"

"What--Kattie and Bob? No, I'm sure there isn't. You see, Kattie got rather large ideas, and she was certainly very pretty. She would never have looked at Bob, I'm certain."

"I will see if I can learn anything. There are ways if you know how to use them."

"Thank you, sir. I thought if any one could help us it would be you."

"How are you mounted? You ought to have a second horse if you're going out. They will allow you two, I suppose."

"I believe so. I was thinking of buying one out of that money you gave me."

"Keep it, my boy. You may need it all. You never know what may happen when you get abroad. If you'll take my advice you'll always carry a good supply in a belt next your skin when you're campaigning. I'll find you a horse up to all your requirements. You want height and bone and muscle for a charger on campaign. Beauty Is a fifth consideration. Your life may depend upon your horse."

"There is no doubt about our going, then, sir?" asked the boy, with a sparkle in his eyes.

"No doubt, I'm afraid, my boy; but their plans are very undecided. I was speaking with Clarendon only last night, and, as far as I can make out, what our Government would like would be to coerce Russia by making a demonstration in force, and the Tsar is much too pig-headed for that--as they would know if they knew him as well as I do."

"You know him, sir?

"I was ambassador there for nearly ten years, and in ten years one learns a man fairly well. He is an unusually strong-willed and determined man, bigoted too, and believes absolutely in his mission----"

"What is that, sir?"

"Oh--briefly--to conquer the world on the lines laid down by his ancestor, Peter the Great. But the man who sets out to conquer the world always finds his Waterloo sooner or later."

And Jim went home that night feeling very much less under a cloud on his own account, and not unhopeful on Seth's. For this new old friend of his impressed him deeply as one who knew a great deal more than most people, and as the kind of man who, if he took a matter up, would not rest till he attained his end.

But as for Kattie, if she had indeed come to London, he had nothing but fears.