 
### A Haddington Manifestation

### R J Davin

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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A Haddington Manifestation

Copyright © 2012 R J Davin

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

The information, views, opinions and visuals expressed in this publication are solely those of the author(s) and do not reflect those of the publisher. The publisher disclaims any liabilities or responsibilities whatsoever for any damages, libel or liabilities arising directly or indirectly from the contents of this publication.

A copy of this publication can be found in the National Library of Australia.

ISBN:  978-1-742843-50-6 (pbk.)

Published by Book Pal

www.bookpal.com.au

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# Synopsis  
A Haddington Manifestation

A Haddington Manifestation is a humorous work of fiction set in England during the 1890s and centres around the character of Lord Haddington who suffers from a terrible affliction of great clumsiness so much so that he is known in the area as 'lord Clumsy.'

The story is peopled with many eccentric characters, such as Haddington's own brother known to all the locals as 'Sir Repetitious,' Garth the gardener who treats his trees as if they were children, a vicar with a weakness for the sport of boxing and a voice that can shatter rocks, and Dickie Dobkins who devises various schemes to take advantage of the Haddington Manifestation for financial gain, all of which fail miserably.

Haddington has been seeking his long lost grandson for some time and now he has two claimants as guests in his house. One is Reginald Winterhaiming who the old man dislikes while the other is an American boxer named Two-Refs Lee with his manager. Haddington's solicitor, Clarence who is a long suffering victim of 'The Manifestation,' is convinced that the former is genuine while the latter is a complete fraud.

All the characters have to endure a great deal of trials and tribulations before reaching a happy ending.

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Dedicated to little Woofie

the real Miss Blackie

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# Chapter 1

Lord Haddington sat back in his chair and puffed on his cigar while his solicitor, Clarence lit it for him.

"Fine, fine."

"My own view, for what it's worth, your Lordship, is that the next fellow is the best possibility of the whole lot." Said Clarence as he returned to his seat.

"I certainly hope so, old man, the pack we've seen this week must be the greatest bunch of frauds and charlatans it has ever been my misfortune to encounter."

"It did bring back memories, Your Lordship, of your father and the many family conferences that I attended."

"A dastardly bunch."

"The family, Your Lordship?" Clarence smiled mirthlessly.

Lord Haddington had swung his swivel chair around a little to drop the ash of his cigar into an ashtray, now, without apparently hearing the question he swung back and managed to knock over a bottle of whisky sitting on his desk. Both he and Clarence were reaching down when they knocked their heads together with the bottle landing on Clarence's foot at the same time.

"I am sorry, old chap." Lord Haddington was up on his feet in an instant and was patting him on the shoulder, but he wasn't watching his cigar which came into contact with the flesh of Clarence's hand.

Clarence was dancing about the room trying to ease the pain of three spots when Gilmore, the butler showed a neatly dressed young man in. He stood watching the antics of Clarence in haughty silence.

"This is the young man I told you about, Your Lordship." Said Clarence as he moved as far from Haddington's desk as he could. "Mr Reginald Winterhaiming, Lord Haddington."

"How do you do, Your Lordship." Winterhaiming came across the room with an outstretched hand.

"How d'y do." Haddington shook it limply and took the cigar from his mouth and inadvertently dropped ash on the sleeve of the newcomer's coat, who brushed it off quickly as he moved away from Haddington and sat down to face him.

"I'm sure you won't mind if His Lordship asks you a few questions?"

"How tiresome."

"Pardon?" Asked Haddington.

"Is it absolutely necessary?"

"I should think it is." Said Haddington irritably. "There is a great deal of money at stake here."

"How tiresome."

"What was that?"

"Money is so tiresome."

"Who is this fool?" Demanded Haddington of Clarence.

"Now, now, Your Lordship," soothed Clarence, "you must not get too excited."

"He's not going to be ill is he?" Asked Winterhaiming. "Illness is so tiresome."

"Get him out of here." Said a grim Haddington, "Before I take his life."

"Morbid talk is so tiresome."

"WHAT?"

"Now, now, Your Lordship, I'll handle this. May I ask, sir, where were you born?"

"In the United States of America."

"The name of your parents?"

"They had the misfortune of departing this world soon after my birth."

"Showed some good sense." Muttered Haddington.

"But you have a locket with their likenesses?"

"I do."

"May we see it?"

"Of course." He removed a small piece of jewellery from his pocket, opened it and handed it across to Clarence. The two older men looked over the faded photos in silence.

"There is a resemblance." Said Clarence.

"Your eyes must be better than mine." Said Lord Haddington peevishly.

"The photos are quite old." Said Winterhaiming.

"I can see that."

"Regardless of their age, Mr Winterhaiming, there is a striking resemblance," said Clarence handing the locket back to the young man, "I'm sure you'll agree, Your Lordship?"

"Hmmm." Haddington sat down with a sour expression on his face as he puffed on his cigar. Clarence asked the young man a few more questions while Haddington, who had lost interest, sat back in his chair in a cloud of smoke.

"If you look over to that wall," said Clarence to Winterhaiming, "you can see a portrait painted of your mother when she was a young girl."

The young man got to his feet with a languid air and crossed the room to stand gazing up.

'So that was dear mama," he said with a bored look on his face.

"Tiresome, I suppose." Came the mumble of Haddington through the cloud of smoke.

"The frame is beautiful." Said Winterhaiming raising a small pair of glasses and holding them to his eyes.

"It was designed by an Italian, a great artist in his day." Said Clarence.

"Bah." Spluttered Haddington. "A damn foreigner and an over-priced foreigner at that."

"Now, Your Lordship."

"Thievery, that's what it was, thievery."

"Oh, dear me," sighed Winterhaiming, "you gentlemen are not going to argue about money are you? Arguing about money is so tiresome."

"What!" Haddington's angry face came looming out of the smoke.

"Now, now, Your Lordship." Soothed Clarence.

"Are you seriously suggesting that this mindless popinjay is my long lost grandson, you must be out of your mind?"

"All the evidence does seem to lean that way, Your Lordship."

"Hang the evidence."

"Morbid talk about death is so tiresome." Sighed Winterhaiming as he fell exhausted into the nearest chair.

"How do you feel about morbid actions that lead to death?" Asked Haddington as he picked up the nearest bottle and came around the desk menacingly.

"Mr Winterhaiming has a bad heart, Your Lordship, you'll frighten him."

"How tiresome." Said an unconcerned Winterhaiming.

"Step aside, Clarence, unless you're offering yourself for me to practice my morbid actions."

"Your Lordship, try to control yourself." Clarence put himself between Haddington who was approaching grimly, and Winterhaiming who sat watching with a languid eye, he appeared to be perilously close to falling asleep.

Suddenly there was the sound of shattering glass from the next room, and a scream of pain.

"What the deuce?" Said Haddington as he walked toward the door, managing to step on Clarence's foot.

"Ouch!"

"Do try and stop getting in people's way, Clarence, it's a nasty failing of yours."

"Sorry, Your Lordship."

"Here, take this." With his back to Clarence he reached back to hand him the bottle, Clarence wasn't quick enough to grab it as Haddington dropped it on his other foot.

Haddington reached the double doors and swung both of them open.

"What the devil do you think you're up to?" He demanded. A tall man stood near one of the walls in the stance of a boxer, a smaller man stood beside him apparently holding his coat, the butler lay unconscious on the floor under a broken chandelier.

"You own this place?" Demanded the smaller man.

"In a manner of speaking." Said Haddington as he crossed the room giving the butler a vacant glance.

"These walls, buddy, poor composition."

"Really?"

"I said to my boy here, poor composition, didn't I?" The boy nodded.

"It might interest you to know, my friend, these walls are over four hundred years old."

"Well, that explains it, don't it, Two-Refs?"

"It sure does, Smokey."

"Your Lordship," said Clarence with concern as he rushed to the side of the prone butler, "they've killed Gilmore."

"That's impossible." Said Haddington as he stepped forward to look at the wall directly in front of the tall man.

"He's dead I tell you."

"Place a bottle of brandy within sniffing distance." Said Haddington helpfully.

"Winterhaiming," called Clarence through the doors to the seated young man, "give me a hand here."

"Couldn't you drag the fellow in here by my chair?"

"Never mind." Clarence got to his feet and went back in to the room to pour a drink.

"Did you do this?" Haddington pointed to two dents in his wall.

"Yes, I'm sorry, I did." Smiled the tall man.

"With what?"

"These." He held up his clenched fists.

"Your fists?"

"That's right," said the smaller man, "those fists could demolish a place like this, couldn't they, Two-Refs?"

"Easy." Smiled Two-Refs.

"I wish you'd gotten the owner's permission before you began to do so."

"Didn't I say these English have got a sense of humour, Two-Refs, didn't I say that."

"Yes, Smokey, you did."

"Who are you chaps?"

"Oh, pardon us, pal," the smaller man put his hand to his bowler hat and raised it slightly above his head, "I'm Smokey Cloud...."

"Smokey Cloud?"

"Yeah."

"How very droll."

"And this is my boy 'Two-Refs Lee."

"Hi, ya." Lee raised his hand.

"You mean he's your son?"

"Naw, naw, you English you always get it wrong."

"Do we?"

"Yeah. Two-Refs is the next heavyweight champion of the world, and I have the great privilege to be his manager."

"You mean he's a pugilist?"

"Yeah, you got it."

"What in the world are you doing here?"

"Smokey reckons I'm the grandson of some old goat who lives in these parts."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you might know him, Clem Haddleston." Said Two-Refs."

"Lord Haddleston." Put in Cloud helpfully.

"Lord Haddington, actually."Said Haddington.

"Hey, you know this Lord character?"

"You pair of ignorant fools," said Clarence angrily, "you're talking to Lord Haddington."

"Ya don't say." Smiled Cloud.

"Glad to meet ya, Lord." Said Lee as he stepped forward to shake his hand.

"You mean I was talking to royalty and didn't know it?"

"Clarence, did you know about Mr Cloud and his....Mr Lee?"

"I must apologise, Your Lordship, I did know about them but I hadn't expected them for some days, I really don't consider Mr Lee's claim too seriously."

"Why not?" Demanded Cloud, "Two-Refs got a locket with a picture of his mother and a lock of her hair."

"Have you?" Asked Haddington.

"Of course, would you like to see it?"

"Please."

Lee took the locket out of his pocket and gave it to Haddington who looked at it carefully. "I say, there is a resemblance, how long have you had it?"

"Smokey and me got it from the orphanage where I grew up, we went there...."

"We had to get all the boy's records, and his folks didn't have 'em all."Broke in Cloud.

"I've written to your adopted parents many times, Mr Lee, but so far I've not received one reply." Said Clarence helping the Bulter to his feet.

"That ain't to be wondered at," said Cloud, "They both can't read or write."

"How am I to check your story then?"

"Two-Refs can supply you with every detail, can't you, Two-Refs?"

"I sure can."

"Which orphanage did your parents adopt you from?"

"Miss Lucy Harbingers' Home for the Young." Said Lee proudly.

"And the address of this establishment?"

"Clancy Street, Chicago, Illinois."

"I'll send a telegram off to her."

"I wouldn't do that." Said Cloud.

"Why not?"

"She ain't there no more."

"Where is she?"

"She's dead now, I mean she was an old dame even when Two-Refs was a boy......"

"Surely there must be some records?"

"Well, Miss Harbinger had a great heart, she ran a place for babies that would bring a tear to the eye of a statue, but when it came to records she....." Cloud shrugged his shoulders.

"She lacked organisation?" Asked Haddington.

"Let's just say she gave workers in the city records some sleepless nights."

"She must have had some method of retaining documents?"

"Two shoe boxes over a stove."

"Sometimes three." Said Lee.

"What about a birth certificate?"

"Miss Lucy told me once she did have it."

"What happened to it?"

"It got burned, fell onto the stove, they were always doing that, especially around winter time."

"Well, unless you can provide some evidence," said Clarence, "I'm afraid you have no case."

"I think I'm the one to decide that." Said Haddington.

"But, Your Lordship......"

"Enough, Clarence, I want these gentlemen to stay for lunch." Haddington stepped to the door, passing Gilmore who was rubbing a sore head and draining a glass handed to him by Clarence. "See to that will you, Gilmore."

"Yes, Your Lordship." Replied Gilmore calmly.

"And do stop making a fuss." Snapped Haddington.

"Yes, Your Lordship."

"He does have a nasty bump, Your Lordship." Said Clarence.

"Stop catering to his whims, Clarence," Haddington spun on his heel, "besides which he has the best medicine in his hand," Gilmore smiled as he took another sip.

"It's only water." Said Clarence and the smile froze on the servant's face.

"Is something wrong?" Asked Haddington.

"I've been seriously injured, Your Lordship."

"Nonsense."

"My taste buds have been destroyed."

"Nonsense."

"This water tastes like gin, sir."

"That's because it is gin."

"I filled the glass from the water decanter, Your Lordship." Said Clarence.

"Do I look foolish enough to have anything to do with filthy stuff like water?" Haddington snapped as he stomped from the room. "See to the extra places at lunch, Gilmore."

"I will, sir." He drained the last drops in the bottom of the glass.

"Gin in the water decanter," muttered Clarence to himself as he followed Haddington, "what's in the gin decanter, I wonder?"

"Whisky." Said Haddington, "you still here," he said as he caught sight of Winterhaiming, "thought you'd find it too tiresome to remain."

"Surely you intend him to stay to lunch, Your Lordship?" Asked Clarence.

"What!"

"Food is so tiresome."

"There you are, the poor lad's too exhausted to eat, I wouldn't dream of forcing our dreary food on him."

"Of course hunger is far more tiresome than food." Said Winterhaiming. Haddington moaned.

"Maybe its food you won't like." Said Lee as he and Cloud came strolling into the room.

"There are certain kinds of food that are not congenial to my nature."

"That's what we're having." Said Haddington hopefully.

"What are we having, Your Lordship?" Asked Clarence.

"You heard what the boy said, Clarence, we're having the kinds of food that he would find most distasteful."

"He hasn't mentioned anything yet."

"Of course he has, he said.....he said....." Haddington looked at Winterhaiming with raised eyebrows.

"Well, stewed octopus, for one."

"There you are, Clarence, stewed octopus."

"We're having stewed octopus for lunch?"

"Our first course."

"I don't know, Your Lordship." Lee was shaking his head.

"And snails, oh my Heavens I dislike snails."

"Our second course."

"Hey," said a worried Cloud, "I hope you're not going to say our third course is caterpillars?"

"Mr Winterhaiming?" Asked Haddington.

"I don't rightly know, I've never tasted caterpillars before, I don't mind trying."

"It's not our third course." Said Haddington flatly.

"Let's get out of here," said Cloud to Lee, "next they'll be offering us cockroaches and rats."

"How does Mr Winterhaiming feel about that?" Smiled Haddington.

"Haw, haw," laughed Winterhaiming and everyone in the room stood in awed silence that such a sound was laughter, "I do believe Your Lordship is pulling my leg."

"That's mighty dangerous, it's liable to fall off." Said Cloud.

"Haw, haw."

"Now if someone were to put a rope around his neck, I might be tempted to pull that."

"Haw, haw."

"It's just His Lordship's little joke," said Clarence to Winterhaiming, "I'm sure he'd be only too pleased to have you stay for lunch."

"Hmphh." Snorted Haddington.

"I should certainly hate to disappoint His Lordship."

"It would be a cruel blow but I'm sure I'll recover."

"I think Mr Winterhaiming should stay." Said Clarence.

"Do you?" Asked a surprised Haddington.

"I do, Your Lordship." Answered Clarence firmly, he was determined that Haddington should be able to compare Winterhaiming with the two ruffians, he felt certain that there would be no doubt of the identity of the real heir, a decision he had reached already.

"I would be honoured to accept your invitation, Your Lordship." Said Winterhaiming. Haddington waved his hand airily as he poured himself a drink.

"I'd like one of those." Said Cloud.

"What about Two-Refs?"

"Yes, thanks." He smiled.

"No, you're in training."

"Aw." Lee's face fell.

"Training?" Asked Winterhaiming.

"You've not been introduced have you?" Said Clarence. "This gentleman is Mr Cloud."

"Howdy....." Cloud came walking over to shake his hand.

"How tiresome." Said Winterhaiming taking the hand limply.

"Mr Tiresome." Nodded Cloud.

"He got the name right first time." Said Haddington into his glass.

"Just call me Smokey."

"Strange state for a chap to be in, haw, haw."

"Yeah, yeah." Said Cloud as he walked over to Haddington to get his drink, completely missing the joke.

"I'm Two-Refs, Two-Refs Lee." Lee stepped forward to grab Winterhaiming's hand and proceeded to squash the life out of it.

"The future heavyweight champeen of the world," said Cloud, "your health." He touched glasses with Haddington and they both took a drink.

Winterhaiming's face was turning bright red, his eyes were beginning to bulge alarmingly, all feeling in his right hand was beginning to fade as the grinning oaf responsible was looking with a yearning expression at the drink in Cloud's hand.

"I say." Said Clarence coming to Winterhaiming's rescue.

"This is good stuff." Said Cloud as he held his empty glass out for a refill.

"I should hope so."

"I say, sir, let go." Clarence had a grip on Lee's wrist.

"Oh, sorry, pal, I guess I don't know my own strength." He let go and as he did so Winterhaiming brought his cigarette in his left hand into contact with Clarence's hand.

The solicitor stepped back and did a short dance in the middle of the room.

"Do stop fussing, Clarence," said Haddington as he placed his empty glass down and came walking across the room.

"Luncheon is served, Your Lordship." Said Gilmore standing at the door.

"Come along everybody." Smiled Haddington.

"Stewed octopus, ugh." Cloud made a face as he followed along.

Clarence was still in a daze from pain and managed to step back in Haddington's way, who proceeded to stand on his foot.

"Why in the name of God do you persist in getting in people's way, will you tell me that, sir?" Demanded an angry Haddington not bothering to look back. "Come along, gentlemen." He took Lee on one arm and Cloud on the other.

"I ain't exactly partial to stewed octopus, Your Lordship." Said Cloud.

"I'm sure we can dig something up for you, old man." Smiled Haddington.

"I'd sure appreciate that, like what?"

"Hmm.....baked caterpillar, perhaps?"

"Oh, that'd be nice." He made a face,

"Are you alright, sir?" Clarence glanced up from rubbing his foot to see Winterhaiming bearing down on him with another lit cigarette, to the solicitor he seemed to be looking for a part of his flesh that had not been singed by a cigarette that day.

"No need to worry, Mr Winterhaiming, I'm quite alright."

"Let me give you....oh, I am sorry."

"Quite alright, I assure you." Clarence rubbed the lobe of his ear where the cigarette had just touched him.

"I feel badly about this," he took Clarence's elbow to try and help him to his feet, "oh, I say, I'm frightfully sorry......."

"Will you put that damn thing out before I'm burnt to a cinder." Screamed Clarence as he rubbed a new wound on his wrist.

"Oh, I say......" Winterhaiming stepped back in alarm and dropped the cigarette on the floor. "You're not going to become physical, oh dear me, how tiresome."

"Mr Winterhaiming, do be careful." The young man stepped back to the wall and dislodged a large sword hanging there, it came down to whack Clarence on the head with the flat of its blade, he fell to the floor and managed to put his hand on the lit cigarette. He was pleading with Winterhaiming to stand back when Gilmore came in.

"Gilmore," he whispered into his ear as the servant helped him to his feet, "get this maniac out of here before he kills me."

"Yes, sir."

After a calm Gilmore had led an equally relaxed Winterhaiming from the room Clarence stood looking up at the painting of Haddington's long dead daughter.

"Can there possibly be any doubt of the parentage of that maniac?" He turned around and was about to walk away as he rubbed his wounds. The excitement had been too much for the screw holding the painting to the wall, it gave away and the painting fell on Clarence.

It was some time later after the servants had ministered to his wounds that Clarence hobbled into the dining room where Haddington and his guests were busily eating away.

"Good God, Clarence," said Haddington wiping a few crumbs from his lips with a serviette, "not another accident?"

"I'm afraid so, sir." He lowered himself gingerly into a seat and Gilmore came forward to place a plate of food before him.

"In all my years I have not encountered a fellow so prone to accidents."

"I sympathise with you completely, Lord Haddington, they can be so tiresome." Said Winterhaiming.

"Oh?"

"I had a manservant when I was up at Oxford, there wasn't one day that would pass that he wasn't involved in one or two accidents."

"I'm not surprised." Mumbled Clarence.

"What became of him?" Asked Haddington.

"Oh, he was killed." Said Winterhaiming calmly, "his hearing was impaired in an accident and one day he stepped in front of a baker's cart, killed instantly."

"Probably threw himself under it." Said Clarence under his breath.

"Did you say something, Clarence?"

"I was just remarking on the fact you were drinking tea, Your Lordship."

"Yes, you see, Clarence, I've taken your advice." Haddington turned to look at Lee and Cloud as he poured himself another cup of tea. "Clarence seems to think that alcohol befuddles the brain, slows down the reasoning process."

"So true, Your Lordship." Said Clarence.

"Oh, I don't know," said Cloud, "the way I see it, alcohol separates the men from the boys, I always found alcohol clears the head."

"Excessive alcohol certainly does no such thing." Said Clarence.

"It quickens the brain, you enjoy life more."

"Gives you courage, too." Said Lee.

"Of course it does." Agreed Cloud.

"It turns grown men into dangerous buffoons." Said Clarence, "makes responsible men do irresponsible things."

"Naw, that ain't so." Said Cloud.

"Smokey always has a good time."

"Of course I do, and I act responsible as well."

"Remember that time, Smoke," chuckled Lee, "you stole the policeman's hat and stole that streetcar, the judge said......"

"Eat your food, Two-Refs." Said Cloud grimly.

"I am eating it."

"Well, fill your mouth."

"You said it was wrong to speak with a full mouth."

"I said it was wrong to eat with an empty mouth, especially in your case."

"Oh, that's right," Lee was bringing a fork of food to his mouth, "eh?"

"Dear me," said Winterhaiming, "I hope we're not about to have a lecture on temperance, lectures are so tiresome."

"Why does he keep saying his own name?" Wondered Cloud to Lee who had a perplexed expression as he tried to work out what Cloud had said about eating with an empty mouth.

"There's to be no lecture on temperance, Mr Winterhaiming, I can assure you, Lord Haddington has the good sense to recognise the peril of intoxication."

"Makes me lose my memory, you see."

"Oh, how tiresome."

"Only while I'm under the influence, one day I found myself in Brighton, I was in a terrible mess, not a shilling to my name, I couldn't remember a thing, I must have had a wonderful time just the same, I slept for three days, didn't I?"

"Yes, Your Lordship, you did."

"How tiresome."

"Mr Lee?" Asked Haddington suddenly.

"Yes, sir."

"Your name, Two-Refs, how did you get it?"

"It's just a nick-name."

"I gathered that, but where does it come from?"

"He got it early in his fighting career." Said Cloud.

"How?"

"In my first fight I had a near-sighted referee, he used to enjoy seeing some pug get his brains punched out, so he used to get too close. I accidentally knocked him out."

"A Haddington manifestation." Said Haddington to Clarence.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing, nothing, Mr Lee, go on."

"That's how I got my name."

"From your first fight?"

"Yeah."

"They had to bring a second referee, did they?"

"You got it."

"And the name struck from that one fight?"

"Well," said Cloud, "not just the one fight exactly."

"Oh, no." Said Lee.

"What do you mean?"

"How many fights you had, champ?" Asked Cloud.

"Twenty-four, Smoke, you know that."

"How many times did you knock out the ref?"

"Twenty-five times."

"Twenty-five times?" Asked Haddington in surprise.

"It got to the point," said Cloud, "when a ref wouldn't get into the ring with Two-Refs."

"They used to stand outside the ropes, Mr Coleman he tried that."

"Tell 'em what you did, Two-Refs."

"I knocked him out twice."

"In the same fight." Said Cloud.

"What about your opponent?" Asked Haddington.

"He knocked him out too."

"And his two seconds." Said Lee.

"Who else, Two-Refs?"

"Aw, Smoke."

"Go on, tell 'em." Said Cloud. But Lee shook his head shyly. "He knocked me out as well."

"How did he manage that?" Asked Clarence.

"When my boy goes wild, he goes wild."

"How tiresome." Said a bored Winterhaiming.

"Yeah, you're right, it was very tiring, you had to rest for a week, didn't you, Two-Refs?" Lee nodded, "the fight game takes a lot of stamina, you hit the nail right on the head there, Mr...Mr Tiresome."

"Winterhaiming." Corrected Clarence.

"Pardon?" Asked Cloud.

"I don't doubt Mr Lee has stamina," said Clarence, "but it does sound as though his accuracy leaves something to be desired."

"Oh, yeah," said Cloud belligerently, "how many fights did you win by knock-outs, Two-Refs?"

"Fifteen."

"How many did you lose""

"Three."

"I ask you fellahs, if that ain't a good record, I tell you this boy will be world champion one day."

"All this talk is so tiresome," said a very bored Winterhaiming, "if you're not talking about temperance, a most un-English topic of conversation, you're talking about punching people's brains out, certainly no topic for a gentleman."

"I meant no offence, Mr Tiresome."

"Winterhaiming." Put in Clarence.

"Yeah, so you said." Replied a puzzled Cloud.

"What you fail to understand, Winterhaiming," said Haddington as he took a drink of his tea, "is that certain topics interest us living human beings, among them temperance and bashing people's brains out, two topics that I find absolutely fascinating......"

"Hello, hello, hello." Came a faint voice from somewhere down one of the halls leading into the room.

"Ain't it amazing, the way echoes carry in this place?" Smiled Cloud.

"Oh, no." Haddington lowered his head onto the table and put his hands to his ears.

"Where is the fellow, well? Speak up man, where is he. Speak, open your mouth, haven't you got a tongue, eh, a tongue, speak." Came the voice.

"Oh, no." Groaned Haddington.

"Open your mouth, sir, say something. Speak, try, sir, speak." The voice was becoming angry.

"Gilmore." Said Haddington.

"Sir?" The servant miraculously appeared at his elbow.

"Speak, use you tongue." The voice continued, "use your tongue, you do know the Queen's English?"

"Sir Rupert is here, Gilmore."

"I believe so, sir."

"He's talking to one of the suits of armour again, Gilmore."

"I believe he is, sir."

"Go to his assistance."

"Yes, sir."

"Gilmore." The servant hadn't moved.

"I believed you wanted this, sir." He placed a bottle of whisky at his elbow.

"I believe I did. Thank you, Gilmore."

"Not at all, sir."

"A tongue, sir, you know what a tongue is, I take it, and wipe that hideous grin from your foul face. A wash, sir, that's what would clean your face, a wash."

"Oh, no." Haddington poured a glass of drink and drained it in one swallow.

"May I?" Asked Clarence and Haddington passed him the bottle silently.

"Have we missed something?"Asked Cloud.

"Lord Haddington's brother has just arrived."

"For lunch?"

"For the month." Said Clarence.

"Oh, no." Haddington refilled his glass.

"This way, sir." Gilmore showed a short, plump man into the room, he wore thick glasses perched on a large, red nose.

"Frightfully sorry for being late, late, old boy, so sorry. Yes, you see, I'm late." He was looking at his pocket watch, "I'm late." He sat down.

"You're late, Sir Rupert?" Asked Clarence.

"Am I? Dear me, frightfully sorry, old chap. Yes, I'm late alright."

"We know you're late." Said Haddington testily.

"Pardon?"

"You're late."

"Wonderful isn't it?" Asked Sir Rupert of the room. "I generously come here, I come here out of the generosity of my heart to bring a little good cheer and I'm a couple of minutes late, a couple of minutes mind you and my brother turns on me, he turns on me, my own brother."

"For Heaven's sake." Mumbled Haddington as he poured himself another drink.

"Never fails, it never fails, an argument is going against him, he's losing an argument, and he has to bring religion into it, religion."

"A cup of tea, Sir Rupert?" Asked Clarence.

"That's right you turn on me too, go on, the whole room turn on me, well, Clemmie, go on turn your minions onto me."

"I'd rather turn my hounds lose on you." Mumbled Haddington.

"That's right, that's right, drunken sot, mumble your obscenities, go on, mumble them, drunken sot." He turned to Clarence with a cigar in his hand."Got a light, old boy, got a light. I need a light for my cigar, have you got a light."

"For God's sake someone give him a light." Said Haddington.

"I'm doing so, Your Lordship."

"Good, good." He puffed on the cigar, "good, good. How are you, old boy?" He asked Clarence with a pleasant smile.

"Fine, Sir Rupert."

"And my brother, still the same foul-tempered sot is he?" He turned to Haddington with a smile on his face as if his brother had not heard anything said before. "How are you, Clemmie, fine?"

"Yes."

"Fine, are you?"

"Yes."

"You're fine?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Good, good, you're fine then?"

"I'm fine, do you hear me, I'm fine." Shouted Haddington.

"Dear me, that temper, Clemmie, that temper, it'll get you into trouble some day, you mark my words, that temper, it's a bad temper."

"It will be worth it to hang if I can just strangle you."

"Morbid, Clemmie, that's morbid talk, it's not good for you to talk so morbidly. Clarence, you're supposed to be a good influence on him."

"I try, Sir Rupert."

"Not enough, Clarence, you don't try enough, you should try harder, you don't try enough, perhaps you should be replaced."

"Oh, no." Groaned Haddington.

"I only meant it as a joke, Clemmie, it was only a joke, you know, old boy, a joke."

"Alright, Rupert, it was a joke."

"What was?"

"What you just said."

"Was it?"

"Yes."

"What I just said?"

"Yes."

"Just a joke?"

"Yes."

"Oh." He scratched his chin for a second then turned to Clarence. "What did I just say?"

"A joke, Sir Rupert."

"A joke? Me?"

"Yes, Sir Rupert."

"Well, I'll be... a joke. Haw, haw."

"Haw, haw." Joined in Winterhaiming.

"What in creation is that?" Asked a startled Sir Rupert.

"Another joke." Mumbled Haddington.

"These are Lord Haddington's guests..." Began Clarence.

"Aha, food." Said Sir Rupert as he finally noticed a plate of food at his elbow, he rubbed his hands gleefully and took up his knife and fork. "Food, dear me, I am hungry." He took a mouthful. "It's delicious, what is it?"

"Stewed octopus." Said Cloud.

"Hmm, I love stewed octopus." He munched heartily.

"I thought you said you were allergic to seafood?" Said Haddington as he poured himself another drink.

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"By Jove, Clemmie, you're right, I only have to take one taste of seafood of any kind and I become violently sick, violently so. I disgorge everything, make a nasty mess."

"Sir Rupert...." Clarence pulled a face as he hesitated to take a mouthful of food from his plate.

"Violently sick, hideous business, disgorging undigested food, hideous."

"It's mutton, sir." Said Gilmore standing stiffly with a blank face just behind Lord Haddington's chair.

"What is?"

"On your plate, sir."

"Mutton?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why in Heaven's name did you tell me it was stewed octopus?" Demanded Sir Rupert of Gilmore. "I don't like that, Clemmie, I don't like a servant with a sense of humour, they're apt to laugh at you behind your back. Senses of humour do that, you know, vile things they are."

"Gilmore!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Are you laughing behind my back?"

"No, sir." His face continued to be blank.

"Do you have a sense of humour?"

"No, sir."

"If he had," said Clarence half to himself, "he'd have laughed himself to death years ago."

"You're not to do it again, do you hear?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll not have it."

"No, sir."

"If I catch one servant in this house with anything as perverted as a sense of humour, I'll have him thrashed within an inch of his life and discharge him immediately."

"Yes, sir."

"It was me," said Cloud, "I said we've got stewed octopus."

"The fellow did it again," said Sir Rupert looking over his shoulder at Gilmore, "and I didn't even see his mouth move."

"It wasn't Gilmore, Rupert, it was Mr Cloud."

"Mr Cloud?"

"Yes."

"Mr Cloud spoke did he?"

"Yes, Rupert."

Sir Rupert looked at him for a second and then burst into laughter. "Haw, haw," he wiped tears from his eyes, "that takes me back, Clemmie, really takes me back. Remember old Nanny? Remember her Mr Moon in the sky, and Mr Mountain and Mr Island?"

"Yes, Rupert."

"Clouds do not talk, old chap, they drop rain and blot out the sun, that's their purpose in life, not to talk; people talk, Clemmie, but not clouds, clouds never talk. No mouth, you see, just white fluff."

"I was referring to one of my guests....."

"Guests, guests, you have guests, Clemmie? Why wasn't I told you had guests, haven't you got a tongue, couldn't you use your tongue to tell me you had guests? It's ill bred, it's low not to have told me you had guests. I cannot abide bad manners, it's a symptom of our times this upsurge of bad manners....."

"Sir Rupert....."

"Shut up, Clarence. Well, Clemmie, what's your excuse, well, speak up, you have none, have you." Haddington sat calmly sipping his drink looking at his brother with hooded eyes. "Why must I find out everything for myself, why are you so secretive?"

"It's a nasty habit of mine."

"A vile habit, Clemmie."

"I never could keep anything from you, Rupert."

"You most certainly could not, Clemmie," he turned to Clarence, "come along, Clarence, where are your manners? Introduce me to the chaps."

"This is Mr Winterhaiming, Mr Cloud and Mr Lee."

"Just call me Smokey."

"Smokey, Smokey." Sir Rupert pondered over that for a second or two then burst into laughter, "haw, haw, Smokey Cloud, a cloud, a smokey cloud, haw, haw."

"Yeah, you got it." Cloud shrugged his shoulders, he'd never regarded it as all that amusing.

"I knew a Mr Furnace once, a Fiery Furnace, haw, haw, he burnt my hand, haw, haw."

"Haw, haw." Joined in Winterhaiming.

"What the devil was that?" Asked a startled Sir Rupert.

"This F. Furnace," asked Clarence, "his last name didn't happen to be Haddington by any chance?"

"No, just Furnace." He turned to Haddington. "I will say this for you, Clemmie, you know how to manage your servants. You had that Gilmore shaking in his boots, he cringed at your reprimands and jumped to obey your commands."

"Our Gilmore?" Asked Clarence in surprise.

"Now, my servants," Sir Rupert shook his head sadly, "ignore me they do, disobey orders, leave their bandages laying about everywhere, suffer mysterious wounds and abrasions that refuse to heal."

"Yes." Said Clarence.

"I rule my servants with an iron hand." Said Haddington, and believed it.

"Speaking of servants, Clemmie, I came across your new coloured servant."

"I have no coloured servant."

"Nonsense, I was talking to him in the hall."

"You were talking to a suit of armour."

"You mean you have the fellow walking about in a suit of armour?" He shook his head. "Mother always said you were eccentric."

"How is your good lady wife, Sir Rupert?" Asked Clarence.

"She's excellent, excellent, the wound is healing marvellously."

"Wound?"

"Yes, her wrist, remember, it was badly sprained."

"Was it?"

"Yes, the last time you and Clemmie came for a visit."

"Oh, yes, I remember." Said Clarence as he looked across at Haddington who was taking another sip of his drink.

The luncheon passed in a relaxed atmosphere as Lee went through the origin of his nick-name again and Cloud talked about the greats of boxing he'd either known or watched in action.

They woke up Winterhaiming and made their way out into the garden to sit in the afternoon sun.

"Garth!" Called Haddington and a small, gnarled man came crawling out from the surrounding trees.

"What?" He stood with a sour face as he looked with ill-concealed suspicion from one to the other of the watching figures."

"What, Your Lordship." Said Clarence.

"If you want to call me that," said Garth, with a shrug of his shoulders, "that's your affair; I don't stand much for formalities."

"I meant that you should address Lord Haddington as Your Lordship."

"Why?"

"Must I give you a lesson on manners every time you open your mouth?"Asked Clarence.

"He's a horrid little chap, isn't he?" Asked Sir Rupert of Winterhaiming, "He thinks he owns those confounded trees, he won't let me come within an inch of them?"

"Your presence means death to my lovelies." Snarled Garth.

"Will you listen to the fellow? Just how many of your confounded trees have I harmed?

"You mean this week?"

"If my gardener spoke to me...." Began Sir Rupert.

"Are you trying to tell me that jungle patch you call a garden actually has a gardener."

"Well, I never.......I never......"

"Mr Garth," said Clarence grimly, "there are times......"

"Have you two gentlemen finished harassing my gardener?" Demanded Haddington angrily, then turned with a sweet expression to Garth, "tell me, Garth, how is that son of yours coming along?"

"Not good."

"I am sorry to hear that."

"He's broken his mother's heart, he has, his condition is serious."

"Oh, dear me."

"There's hope, of course."

"How very true."

"Is he ill?" Asked Cloud.

"Of course he's ill, why the hell would I be talking like this if he wasn't?"

"What's his illness?" Asked Lee.

"He doesn't like trees."

"He doesn't like trees?"

"Haw, haw." Laughed Winterhaiming.

"If you're laughing, mister, it's not funny." Said an angry Garth.

"Surely it's not a serious malady?" Asked Winterhaiming.

"Do you know a gardener who doesn't like trees?"

"My gardener...." Began Sir Rupert.

"I mean a real gardener, someone who can tell the difference between a wooden door and a flower."

"He made one mistake." Said Sir Rupert to Lee and Cloud.

"Tell them how old your son is, Garth." Said Clarence.

"He's twenty....."

"He must know his own mind." Said Winterhaiming.

"....months old."

"He might want to be a lawyer or a judge or something when he grows up."Smiled Cloud.

"He'll not shame my name, no, sir, if he dared lower himself to such a level, I'd cut him off without a penny."

"You mean a twig." Murmured Clarence.

"What was that?"

"For Heaven's sake," said Clarence, "this mania for trees is unbelievable. Do you know," he said to Lee and Cloud, "he sleeps in them at night?"

"That is a load of rubbish, I slept in Michael for one night, 'cause he was ill."

"Michael?" Asked Cloud.

"Oh, yes," said Clarence, "he's got names for all of them, Michael, Edward, Rupert....."

"Rupert?"

"He's a troublesome chap," said Garth, "he won't grow properly, drops branches on people when they walk under him."

"That seems appropriate." Said Clarence.

"I thought so."

"How are the....the trees, Garth?" Asked Haddington.

"They're in excellent health, provided no nuisance runs amok in 'em like last week." He looked pointedly at Sir Rupert. The old man sat looking out across the trees with an innocent expression.

"Did they ever discover the culprit, Garth?" Asked Clarence.

"They did not."

"What happened?" Asked Cloud.

"Garth suffered some loss, didn't you?"

"I did. Five wounded."

"How did that happen?"

"The way I see it," said Garth with a grim expression, "some overgrown, blundering elephant escaped from a circus, came over to my trees and proceeded to kick the life out of 'em."

"I heard a few tiny branches were knocked from a few of the damn things."Said Sir Rupert.

"Tell Charlie that. All his branches were ripped from his body, he's as bald as an egg, he's just a stump now."

"Is he......still alive?" Asked Lee.

"Touch and go." Said a grim Garth, he looked at Sir Rupert, "must have been a lunatic."

"A tree-hating lunatic." Said Clarence.

"Anyone who hates trees is not human."

"Do you hate trees, Garth?" Asked Clarence.

"What? What's that?"

"Clarence....." Began Haddington.

"I warn the lot of you, if I catch any blundering elephant in my garden, I'll turn my trees onto him."

"That will cause some sleepless nights." Smiled Clarence.

"You puffed-up, squinty-eyed little toad."

"You go too far..." Clarence got to his feet.

"Do sit down, Clarence, stop making a fool of yourself."

"I'd bash your brains out with a branch, that is if you had any brains and I could get past those bandages you wear every time I see you."

"Why, you....."

"Clarence, leave the man alone." Ordered Haddington.

"How in God's name do you tolerate the insolent fellow, I'd discharge him in a minute."

"Every tree in the place would die." Said Garth.

"He's perfectly correct." Said Haddington.

"Those trees love me."

"Quite right."

"I would prefer roses any day." Said Winterhaiming.

"What? What's that?"

"Trees are tiresome things."

"Would the gentleman let me show him one of my trees?" Asked Garth sweetly with a frozen smile.

"Rupert?" Put in Cloud helpfully.

"I have others."

"Now, roses...." Began Winterhaiming. There followed a long argument between the gardener and Winterhaiming on trees and roses.

It was Gilmore announcing the arrival of visitors that woke Cloud up.

"Lady Marlebone and Miss Marlebone to see you, sir."

"Dames." Said Cloud with a broad grin.

"Where are they, Gilmore?" Asked Haddington

"In your study, sir."

"I'll see them." He got to his feet and managed to knock over his chair. It fell on Clarence's foot. "Sorry, old chap."

"Think nothing of it."

As Haddington left, Cloud turned to Clarence who was massaging his foot.

"What are these dames like?"

"Do you mind?"

"How tiresome."

"Do try and be a little animated, Cynthia."

"Yes, mother."

"The main thing is an engagement, even the hint of an engagement might be sufficient."

"Yes, mother."

"We only have one month, remember that. If your father can't promise the creditors something, they'll start taking the estate. It will break his heart."

"Yes, mother."

"His long lost grandson is here now, I'm certain to be able to convince him that we should stay for the week."

"How will you do that, mother?"

"I don't know, I'll think of something, you leave that to me." There was the sound of smashing glass in the next room. "Here's Lord Haddington now."

The double doors were opened by Gilmore who stood to one side as Haddington came striding in.

"Lady Marlebone, my dear lady, how very nice to see you." He took both her hands and squeezed them warmly. "How are you, my dear?"

"In excellent health, Your Lordship."

"And your lovely daughter?"

"Come along, Cynthia, answer his Lordship."

"I'm in excellent health, Your Lordship."

"Splendid, and Sir Joseph?"

"The same as ever."

"Splendid, ah, tea." Gilmore opened the door and a servant came in with a tray." Allow me to pour." The two women sat down opposite Haddington as he poured two cups and handed one to each of them, then he poured one for himself and sat down in an easy chair. "Now, dear lady, what can I do for you?"

"As you know, Your Lordship, Sir Joseph has been called to London on urgent business," Haddington nodded, "poor Cynthia and I were roaming that big, empty house of ours that so desperately needs the presence of a man, and I said to Cynthia, why not drop over and pay a visit to our dear friend, Lord Haddington, and Cynthia said, what a wonderful idea, didn't you, Cynthia?"

"Yes, mother."

"We got out little Betsy and the carriage, and here we are."

"That's splendid, my dear, and how long will Sir Joseph be gone?"

"You know how vague he is, I should think about a week, wouldn't you Cynthia?"

"Yes, mother."

"That's settled then, you'll both be my guests for a week."

"How very kind of you."

"Not at all, I know the rattle of an empty house." He took a sip of his tea. Lady Marlebone was a kindly woman and felt great sympathy for any suffering, so she felt a lump come to her throat at the sound of these sad words. 'Poor lonely man.' She thought and glanced over at her daughter who appeared to have heard nothing as she drank her tea.

"If it wouldn't be too great an imposition...."

"Quite the contrary, dear lady, I have a few gentlemen friends down for the weekend and I fully intend asking them to stay for a week or so. I feel certain the presence of two charming ladies would only brighten up so dull a crowd."

"Gentlemen guests, Your Lordship?"

"Just a few chaps William Clarence brought down from the city."

"I do hope we'll not be interfering with any business transactions...."

"Not in the least, dear lady."

"Sir Joseph does hate that, doesn't he Cynthia?"

"Yes, mother."

'A lifeless woman.' Thought Haddington as he eyed the pale, thin young woman over the rim of his cup. 'An utterly lifeless woman.'

"I can assure you, Lady Marlebone, there will be no business transactions whatsoever."

"I am pleased."

"If you've finished your tea, perhaps you'll let me introduce you to them."

"What a wonderful idea, isn't it, Cynthia?"

"Yes, mother."

"Come along, dear lady," Haddington got to his feet, "and bring your...... daughter with you." He had only just stopped himself saying 'corpse.'

He took Lady Marlebone's arm as he led them down the long hallway to the back of the house and into the garden.

"I don't care what you say," came the voice of Cloud. "I don't care, see, I just don't care."

"It's tiresome, it's just tiresome."

"Why do you keep saying your name, why, why do you, you keep saying your name, why is that?" Demanded Cloud.

"Smokey, will you sit down," ordered Lee, "please, sit down will you, go on, Smoke, sit down."

"Sir Rupert is here too." Said Lady Marlebone with delight in her voice before the men had come into sight.

"Perfectly right," smiled Haddington, "now how on earth did you know that?"

"Oh, we ladies, Your Lordship, we have these things, these..... what are they called, Cynthia?"

"Ears, I believe, mother." She murmured softly.

"What was that, my dear?" Asked Haddington.

"Intuition, that's what it's called, female intuition." They walked down toward the four men as Lady Marlebone gave some vivid examples of the existence of female intuition. "..... she told him to stake every penny on the horse." They came up to the men who got to their feet.

"Lady Marlebone," smiled Sir Rupert as he came over to take her hand and shake it vigorously, "Lady, lady, how jolly to see you again."

"The horse, dear lady, did it win?" Asked Haddington as she walked over to Winterhaiming, who she could tell was that long lost grandson. "The horse, madam?" He called, "blast the woman." He muttered and turned his head to see Cynthia. "Did it....?"

"It lost."

"It lost."

"Yes."

"Why on earth does your mother use that as an example of female intuition?"

"I don't really know."

"Hey, Clemmie." Smiled Cloud as he called out to Haddington. "That brother of yours, Sir Rupert...."

"Yes, I know him."

"That brother, he was just telling us his life story, his story, your brother."

"So I gather."

"How'd ya do Miss." Haddington introduced them and finished introducing everybody else.

Cynthia joined her mother who was watching Lee demonstrating a few punches under orders from Cloud, while Winterhaiming looked on with a bored expression.

"Again, Two-Refs." Lee slammed a punch into Cloud's open hand.

"How tiresome." Winterhaiming started to walk over to the shade of a tree.

"Isn't he handsome?" Sighed Lady Marlebone.

"Isn't who handsome, mother?"

"Mr Winterhaiming, dear, my future son-in-law."

"Oh." She said with no interest.

Haddington and Sir Rupert were walking off, just to stretch their legs, Clarence decided to go after them.

"I say, look at that." Said Sir Rupert loudly. Everybody turned to look, Lee was just finishing a punch to Cloud who lowered his hands and took the blow in the chest. He was thrown back and came in contact with Winterhaiming who was thrown forward, he reached up for the branch of a tree. There was the loud rending of wood as his weight snapped it off, a good part of the tree came off and fell to the ground, making a large mess.

"What was that?" Demanded a voice off in the distance.

"That's Garth." Said a terrified Sir Rupert to Haddington.

"You get the ladies into the house, I'll take care of this." He walked over to the fallen Winterhaiming, "Mr Lee, would you help me?"

"Of course." He helped Cloud to his feet and helped him brush the grass from his clothes.

"Looks like we'll be calling you Two-Managers Lee." Said Cloud.

"If you keep doing stupid things like that, Smokey, we'll be calling you the late Smokey Cloud." He went over to give Haddington a hand with a stunned Winterhaiming.

Haddington looked back at the trees with a worried expression.

"I suggest we return to the house, gentlemen."

"Why is that, Clem?" Asked Cloud as they began to walk back to the house.

"Mr Garth will soon be discovering...." He stopped suddenly.

"Something wrong?" Asked Lee.

"Where's Clarence?"

"Didn't he go with the ladies?"

"No, he was right behind....." Haddington looked over at the fallen branch, he caught sight of a boot and ran quickly over to it. "Give me a hand here, Two-Refs." Lee joined him.

"Aha.!" A maniac appeared on the other side of the branch and Lee and Haddington stepped back in surprise.

"Now, Mr Garth......" Said Haddington soothingly.

"Caught one of you, did he?"

"Who?" Asked Lee.

"Jimmie."

"Jimmie?"

"It's the name of the confounded tree." Whispered Haddington.

"Jimmie is the most inoffensive of lads, he wouldn't drop one of his arms on someone unless that someone was hurting him." He glanced up at the torn tree. "You've ripped out one of his arms."

"It was an accident." Said Haddington.

"An accident was it?"

"His arm will grow back." Said Lee.

"Will it? How would you like me to come over there and rip your arm out, do you think it would grow back?" He said angrily.

"Now, Mr Garth." Said Lee.

"Don't try to reason with him, Mr Lee, he's half tree himself."

"From the neck up, by the look of him." He said as he looked across at the contorted face.

"My trees will get the both of you, go on, Jimmie, get 'em." He shouted up at the tree, Haddington and Lee looked up half expecting the tree to attack them.

Garth took the opportunity to spring up on a branch and stood there shaking the whole tree.

"You get Clarence out, I'll take care of the tree-man." Said Lee. He walked over to one of the tree's branches just above his head and reached up."I think I'll just tear out another one of Jimmie's arms."

"You dare, you dare, and this whole forest will rise up against you."

"I'll take that risk." He jumped off the ground and grasped the branch, it bent downwards with a groan.

"Get off!"

"This should do." Smiled Lee as he swung a little, Haddington was helping Clarence to stumble a short distance and stood looking back with interest. "I'm sure Jimmie won't miss it."

"Get off!" With amazing dexterity Garth tore a branch from the tree and leapt to the ground and came running at Lee. Lee dropped from the branch and met Garth with his two fists. A left to the face stopped him, a right to the chin sent him reeling back.

"Jolly good." Roared Haddington.

Garth fell to the ground but quickly regained his feet, dropped the branch and flung himself back up the tree, he climbed up as far as he could and stood up there, ranting and shaking the tree dangerously.

It was too much for Jimmie, with a roar from Garth it toppled over and came crashing to the ground, just missing Haddington who jumped aside.

Lee stood his ground and waited for Garth to appear, but the treeman jumped to his feet and took off for his life. Lee looked across at Haddington with a smile on his face.

"You alright?" He called.

"He needed a good lesson." Smiled Haddington.

"Where's Clarence?" Asked Lee with a frown, then he looked at the fallen tree.

* * * * *

# Chapter 2

Cloud and Haddington were helping a very dazed Clarence down the long corridor, Winterhaiming and Lee were behind.

"Violence is so tiresome."

"It is if you're on the receiving end." Said Lee with a smile.

"Why does he keep saying his name all the time, is he afraid people are going to forget it?" Cloud asked a dull-eyed Clarence.

"I'm going to get my hands on an axe," mumbled the solicitor, "and dismember every tree I possibly can."

As they approached the room the voices of the ladies and Sir Rupert came floating toward them.

"Sir Joseph has always said that." Came the voice of Lady Marlebone. "He has, he's said that, hasn't he, Cynthia?"

"Yes, mother, yes, mother."

"He has, well bless my soul, has he, he's always said that, he said that, did he?"

Haddington groaned and Cloud thought it was Clarence and patted him on the head.

"It's alright, pal, you'll soon be fixed up." The solicitor thought someone was pounding his head with a tree trunk and promptly passed out.

"He's always said that, always."

"As I told you, Lady Marlebone, my wife maintains the fellow is a lunatic, she has, a damned lunatic, my wife will tell you that, Garth is a damned lunatic. Of course those are not her exact words, no, dear me, not her exact words."

"Mr Lee." Said Haddington as Clarence slid to the floor. "Would you mind?"

"Of course not, of course not." Haddington grimaced. Lee stepped forward and with one movement flung the unconscious solicitor over his shoulder.

"I'll just go and get.... an ice pack for the poor fellow's head." Said Haddington as he strode off in the opposite direction determined to get a drink.

"That's a good idea." Said Lee as he swung around and brought Clarence's head into contact with the wall. "He'll need it when he comes to."

"Mr Cloud, my dear Mr Cloud," boomed Sir Rupert when they reached the open doorway, "do come in, do, by all means come in."

"Willingly, pal, willingly. Want a hand there, Two-Refs?"

"No, no, I've got him, I've got him."

"Tiresome, tiresome."

Haddington increased the speed of his steps and put his hands to his ears, to stop the noise.

"Gilmore!"

"Coming, Your Lordship." He appeared from a side door with a tray containing a bottle of whisky and a glass, he was wiping his mouth with a handkerchief as he saw the receding back of Haddington. As he followed he said softly, "coming, coming, Your Lordship." The left side of his turned down mouth twitched faintly. Only close friends could tell that he was smiling to himself. "Coming, coming."

Sir Rupert had Cloud roaring with laughter.

"He was a terrible fighter, terrible. He was so near-sighted only his opponent was safe."

"I've met some referees like that." Said Lee.

"One day, I was there so I know what I'm talking about, I was there, you see. One day he fell out of the ring and knocked out three spectators, a horse...."

"A horse?" Roared Cloud wiping his eyes.

"...some poor innocent policeman and his mother-in-law. I've always been a little suspicious about that last victim, yes, dear me, that last victim. I've had my suspicions."

"How did they stop him?" Asked Lee.

"Oh, they got his wife," said Sir Rupert casually, "his wife, they got her. The fellow's wife, you see."

"How did she stop him?"

"She knocked him out. Thump." Sir Rupert gave an imitation of a vicious upper-cut. "Out he went, knocked him out. Flat on his back. Woke up two days later, yes, yes, two days. Just as well it was a gentle tap, dear me, yes, gentle."

They were having a good chuckle when Lee looked over at an empty chair.

"Where's Clarence?" He asked suddenly.

"He was over there." Said Cloud pointing to the chair.

"He's under my brother's desk." Said Sir Rupert calmly, as he took out a cigar and held it to his ear. "Do you mind, Lady Marlebone?"

"Not at all, Sir Rupert, you go right ahead."

"What's he doing under there?" Asked Lee.

"Capital, capital. Eh, what was that, old boy?"

"What is Mr Clarence doing under your brother's desk?"

"I have no idea, no idea at all. Cigar?"

"Yeah, thanks." Said Cloud.

"He is under there." Said Lee as he walked around the desk to look under it.

"Of course, he crawled over there as soon as he came to his senses." Smiled Sir Rupert as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"I would prefer, Mr Lee," came the voice of the solicitor from under the desk, "if you would just leave me where I am, I am rather taken with this safe little nook. I've grown weary of people trying to remove portions of my skull."

"How tiresome." Said Winterhaiming as he came walking over to the front of the desk.

"Exactly." Said Clarence.

"You can't stay under there." Said Lee.

"Why not?"

"There are ladies present, where's your manners?"

"He's perfectly right, Clarence." Said Sir Rupert and Cloud nodded in agreement.

"Oh, alright, give me a hand, will you?"

Lee leant down to help him.

"Winterhaiming help me here." Said Lee pulling at one of Clarence's arms.

"How tiresome." Winterhaiming leant forward on the desk pushing a desk blotter across the top of the desk, it in turn pushed an ashtray off the edge."Must I?" There was a thud and a grunt.

"Never mind." Said Lee as he stood up.

"What about Clarence?" Asked Cloud.

"He..... he's just taking a nap."

"Poor chap, he needs it." Said Sir Rupert.

"He certainly does," said Cloud, "he is the most accident-prone character I've ever come across."

"The funny part of it is," said Sir Rupert, "that when he's in the city he's the soul of caution, caution, you see, not a scratch, take him out of the city and he falls to pieces, literally to pieces."

"That I can believe." Said Cloud smoking merrily on his cigar.

As the afternoon wore on Clarence finally woke up from his nap and sat glumly in a corner with a bandaged head. Sir Rupert managed to talk Lady Marlebone, her daughter and Winterhaiming into a game of bridge. It was one of the passions in his life. Along with the love of conversation.

Cloud and Lee looked on with interest. Lady Marlebone tried over and over again to get Cynthia to talk to Winterhaiming, but she kept up such non-stop chatter all of which was echoed over and over again by Sir Rupert that the conversation of the two young people consisted of "Yes, mother." And "how tiresome."

"Do you like hunting, Mr Winterhaiming?" Asked Lady Marlebone. "My husband just adores hunting."

"Hunting," smiled Sir Rupert, "I enjoy nothing more than to hunt. The early morning air, yes, the air......"

"Hunting is so tiresome."

"Yes, I agree," said Lady Marlebone, "it is a tiresome business, dear Mr Winterhaiming, too tender-hearted that's your problem."

"Oh, yes, tiresome." Said Sir Rupert as he looked again at his hand, which was appalling, "tiresome it is, I find it that way myself, confounded tiresome."

"I thought you said you enjoyed it?" Said Cloud.

"What, what was that, old boy?"

"I thought you said you enjoyed it?"

"Oh, I do." He made his move and smiled broadly around the room, then swung back to Cloud. "Enjoyed what?"

"Hunting."

"Jolly good idea, old chap, just a shade late at present, soon be dark, what would we hunt, owls?" He laughed.

"Knights." Muttered Clarence.

"That's right, that's right, soon be night, Clarence is right, night, you see. Too dark, why, we'd end up shooting each other."

"I'll load the guns." Said Clarence as he took another pill for his headache.

"Clarence," laughed Sir Rupert, "you may had had half of your brains knocked out, but your sense of humour is still intact, your sense of humour, dear me, still intact."

"It was just a suggestion."

"How tiresome."

"Why does he keep saying his name?" Cloud asked Lee in a whisper. "Why does he do that?"

"I don't know, I don't know." Lee shook his head.

"I believe we've won, Mr Winterhaiming." Said Cynthia to her partner.

"How tiresome."

"Dear me," said a glum Sir Rupert, "that makes eight straight games to you two."

"Winning is so tiresome." Said Winterhaiming.

"I couldn't agree more." Smiled Sir Rupert weakly.

"Never mind, Sir Rupert, we'll win the next one."

"I'm tired, mother, may I just watch?"

"Nonsense dear, we need a fourth."

"I'll take her place." Said Cloud.

"You don't know how to play, Mr Cloud, how to play, you see." Said Sir Rupert.

"Sir Rupert is right, Mr Cloud," said Lady Marlebone. "You don't know how to play."

"I've been watching, I know the fundamentals."

"I'm rather tired myself." Said Winterhaiming.

"Great, come on Two-Refs." Smiled Cloud.

"You can't have Mr Lee as your partner, Mr Cloud. You can't you see."

"Why not?"

"You both don't know the rules."

"Smokey and I are quick to pick things up, aren't we Smoke?"

"We sure are."

"It would be most unfair of my partner and I to do such a thing to you."

"We'll take that chance."

"You said it." Agreed Cloud.

"Alright, we warned you, we warned the pair of you, didn't we, Lady Marlebone?"

"We did, Sir Rupert, we did."

Lee and Cloud proceeded to win the next eight games.

They were interrupted by Gilmore with the news that dinner was prepared. Sir Rupert, with Lady Marlebone on his arm, led the way with a repetitious babble, followed by a bored Winterhaiming with an equally bored Cynthia, while Lee and Cloud took up the rear, each supporting a hobbling Clarence.

It was as he took a seat that Cloud asked about Lord Haddington, the first to do so since that afternoon.

"His Lordship offers his regrets, sir," said Gilmore, "he is at present indisposed."

"Ain't nothing bad, I hope."

"His Lordship, unfortunately, is of a delicate nature," said Clarence. "He is prone to these periods of indisposition. A minor condition I assure you, I feel certain he will be fully recovered by morning."

"Gee that's too bad, me and Two-Refs won't be here, we gotta think about getting back to London. I gotta get some fights for my boy."

"I believe, sir," said Gilmore to Clarence, "that His Lordship had intended to ask Mr Cloud and Mr Lee to be his guests for the weekend."

"That was very generous of him," said Clarence, "it's unfortunate Mr Lee and Mr Cloud cannot accept his...."

"I don't see why not, do you, Two-Refs?"

"No."

"Of course we'll stay." Cloud turned to Gilmore, "you thank Clem for us."

"I will, sir."

"How tiresome."

"Oh, Gilmore?"

"Yes, Mr Clarence?"

"Did His Lordship also mention Mr Winterhaiming?"

"No, sir, I don't believe he did."

"I'm sure he meant to, naturally you'll stay, Winterhaiming?"

"If I must." He looked very bored as Lady Marlebone fluttered her eyelids in his direction.

"His Lordship also mentioned how much he hoped Lady Marlebone and Miss Marlebone would also accept such an invitation."

"That's quite alright, Gilmore," said Lady Marlebone, "His Lordship and I have already discussed that matter, and we've both agreed, haven't we, Cynthia?"

"Yes, mother."

"Jolly," smiled Sir Rupert, "absolutely jolly, what a ripping weekend this will be."

"Yes." Said Clarence as he rubbed a sore spot on his head.

During the meal Cloud kept them entertained with stories of famous fights and famous fighters, all of which Sir Rupert repeated once or twice. Winterhaiming slept silently with his eyes open while Lady Marlebone kept up a constant stream of chatter at his elbow.

They returned to the card room for a few more games of bridge before the ladies retired for the night.

Sir Rupert sat telling Lee and Cloud his life story once again, as Clarence sat dozing over a glass of brandy. Winterhaiming was sleeping with his eyes open.

"You don't say, you don't say." Said Cloud.

"I do, I do, old chap, I do."

"How long ago was this, Sir Rupert," asked Lee, "how long ago?"

"Only a couple of years."

"Just a couple, is that all, a couple?"

"That's all, old chap, that's all."

"A couple of years, is that all?" Asked Cloud.

"That's all, a couple of years, only a couple of.....yes Gilmore?" The servant had entered the room quietly.

"Pardon, Sir Rupert, may I have a few words with Mr Clarence?"

"He's over there, over there snoring, you see him?"

"I see him, sir."

"Go ahead, go ahead."

"Thank you, sir, thank you, sir."

"You said just a couple of years?" Asked Cloud.

"Did I? Did I say a couple of years?"

"That's what you said." Said Cloud.

"That's what you said." Said Lee.

"Now why would I say such a thing, why I wonder?"

"Maybe because it was a couple of years?" Put in Cloud helpfully.

"That's right, by Jove, that's right." Smiled Sir Rupert.

Gilmore was talking softly to Clarence.

"So it's only a couple of years ago?" Asked Cloud.

"What is, old chap, what is a couple of years ago?"

"Where is he now?" Said Clarence calmly as he got to his feet, but there was a grimness in his voice that made Lee, Cloud and Sir Rupert look across the room at him.

"The last time I saw him, sir, he was heading for the back of the house."

"Was he armed?"

"He was carrying an axe, sir."

"Very well," Clarence walked over to Lee, "I may need your assistance, Mr Lee."

"I'm at your service."

"Is it my brother, Clarence?"

"I'm afraid so, Sir Rupert."

"Is he indisposed again?"

"Yes."

"Oh, dear, dear me."

"Just what is it you want my boy to do?" Asked Cloud.

"I may have need of his skill with his fists."

"Say, this sounds exciting." Smiled Cloud.

"Yes." Clarence led the way from the room followed by Lee and Sir Rupert, Gilmore followed. Cloud went across to Winterhaiming.

"Hey, Tiresome, ain't you coming?"

"Pardon?" He blinked his eyes as he was startled from his sleep.

"We got some excitement going on here."

"Has Oxford won?" He asked stupidly.

"Won what?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Two-Refs is gonna use his fists, we're in for some fine exhibition."

"How tiresome."

"Yeah, sure," Cloud walked away scratching his head, "I already know his name, funny fellah."

He came upon Sir Rupert and Gilmore standing at an open door looking into the darkness at the back of the house. He stepped outside to find Lee and Clarence looking intently into the night.

"There." Said Clarence as the sound of someone chopping wood broke the silence, "come along, Mr Lee." He ran toward the sound followed by Lee and Cloud close on his heels.

They came upon a dark figure busily chopping a tree, Clarence lit a match and knelt down to put it to a lamp he was carrying. Lord Haddington continued chopping with great vigour, ignoring the intruders.

"You know what to do, Mr Lee." Ordered Clarence.

"You sure you want me to do this?"

"It's the only way, you must hurry, Garth is probably on his way right now."

Cloud looked around him with a worried expression and moved closer to the lamp.

Lee walked up to Haddington carefully and after a second of hesitation grabbed at the axe as it came swinging back, with a roar of anger and with amazing strength the old man tore it loose from his grasp and raised it above his head.

"What's going on there?" Came a familiar voice off in the distance.

"Garth." Said Clarence. Haddington wore a diabolical smile as he turned slowly in the direction of the voice still with the axe above his head.

"Hurry, Lee."

Lee stepped up behind Haddington and tapped him on the shoulder, as the old man spun around, Lee hit him on the jaw. Haddington staggered back and Lee grabbed him as he fell into unconsciousness.

"Come along, Cloud." Ordered Clarence as he ran over to take one arm while Cloud took the other. "We'll leave you to face Garth." He said to Lee.

"I can handle him." As Clarence and Cloud carried Haddington back to the house, Lee blew out the lamp and picked up the axe. He could see a black shape moving toward him through the trees.

Lee ran off quickly in another direction, he took a couple of whacks with the flat of the blade on a tree here and there drawing Garth with him.

"Who are you? What do you think you're doing?" Garth was running but he didn't sound out of breath at all, Lee, on the other hand was getting tired.

He reached a tree and climbed it. He took a stand on one branch and began to chop at another until he felt it was just about to give way, then he waited.

"Death, my friend, death is about to visit you," he could hear Garth raving as he drew nearer, "my trees will soon put you right."

Lee watched the figure moving quickly beneath him, then with one kick the branch gave way and went dropping to the ground.

"Rupert, you treacherous....."

"Well, well," smiled Lee as he began to climb down, "glad to meet you, Rupert." He patted the tree and walked over to the unconscious shape under the branch. He was startled to feel no pulse until he realised he was holding a piece of the tree. He searched through the twigs and leaves until he found what he thought was one of Garth's arms, it too felt like the branch of a tree but he was relieved to feel a strong pulse.

He left Garth breathing quietly under the branch, as he walked away he turned back to look at the tree.

"Lord help you, Rupert, when he wakes up." Lee smiled. As if in alarm a couple of branches fell from the tree to drop with a thud to the ground. He made his way quickly back to the house.

"For Heaven's sake, Clarence, speak to him." Lee heard the worried voice of Sir Rupert and went off in its direction.

Haddington stood in one corner of the room, his face wore a vicious snarl as he held a heavy piece of wood above his head.

"Say it again, Rupert," Haddington snapped, "go on, say it again, perhaps Clarence didn't hear you. He's just as old and just as senile as you."

"Oh, dear me." Sir Rupert said, the sound of his hurt from the cutting remark being added to his concern for his brother.

"Lord Haddington......" Began Clarence as he took one step toward him.

"Keep back you clumsy lout." He raised the piece of wood higher. "If only your knowledge of law was equal to your clumsiness you'd be a high court judge now, wouldn't you, Clarence."

"If you say so, Your Lordship." Replied Clarence calmly.

"Clumsy oaf." Muttered Haddington, Cloud tried to sneak in from the side."Keep your distance, you vulgar colonial."

"Who are you callin' a colonial?"

"Stay back, Smoke." Said Lee as he walked very slowly to stand in front of Haddington.

"Be careful, Two-Refs, he ain't indisposed, he's drunk, drunk as a Lord."And Cloud chuckled at his own joke.

"This is not the time and place for bad jokes." Said Clarence watching Lee with concern as he drew closer to Haddington who was raising the piece of wood with more menace. "I suggest you be very careful, Mr Lee."

"Brainless brawn." Muttered Haddington watching with narrowed eyes. "Nothing in that skull but muscle."

"I have a notion I've got more brains than you." Smiled Lee.

"Bah!"

"Put up your dukes, I don't need a piece of wood, I can out think you with one hand tied behind my back."

"No brainless, vulgar colonial fool could ever do any such thing."

"Put that down and meet me man to man." Haddington stood looking at him with narrowed eyes.

"Oh, dear me, dear me." Said a worried Sir Rupert.

"If that stupid old fool repeats one more thing I'll make full use of this weapon."

"He seems harmless enough." Said Lee.

"He may seem harmless enough." Snapped Haddington, "but he's the sort of senile old creature that drives men to their deaths."

"Ignore him." Lee took up a stance facing Haddington, "this dispute is between we two gentlemen, and we can settle it in a gentlemanly manner."

"Gentlemen! You dare call yourself a gentleman? You uncouth ill-mannered lout."

"Teach me a lesson."

"Teach you a lesson, I intend to thrash you within an inch of your life, teach you a lesson, indeed."

"Sounds like another Sir Rupert, the way you repeat yourself."

"You dare to compare me with that stupid, old fool, perhaps after I've hammered your skull with this, you might reveal more common sense."

"Being a colonial lout, perhaps I should have a weapon too?"

"A weapon?"

"Certainly, if you intend to cheat....."

"Cheat!" The piece of wood was poised dangerously in the air. "A gentleman never cheats, and it is a proven fact that a Haddington finds it impossible to cheat."

"What do you call that?" He pointed to the piece of wood.

"This, sir, I call an equaliser," he said haughtily, "I am facing a brute, a brainless barbarian, thus I have no recourse than to call upon it for aid."

"To cheat."

"Are you deaf as well?"

"Put it aside and meet me like a man."

"A gentleman does not soil his hands on some brutish ruffian."

"Sir Rupert, come here will you?" Lee turned to beckon a worried Sir Rupert who came forward nervously.

"Oh, dear."

"Why bring this fool into it?"

"He is your brother."

"That was none of my doing."

"But if you're a gentleman and he's your brother, he must be a gentleman too."

"There are doubts on that."

"You won't be soiling your hands."

"If I hit him with this, I won't be."

"Go ahead."

"Oh, dear."

"Lee, are you insane?" Asked a worried Clarence.

"Go on." Said Lee focusing his attention on Haddington.

"It would be cruelty to a dumb animal." Smiled Haddington.

"Oh, dear me, dear me."

"But most gratifying just the same." Muttered Haddington.

"I would like to see how gentlemen solve disputes, it would be good for my brutish manners."

"And give me a great deal of pleasure."

"Here, right here." Lee patted the top of Sir Rupert's bald head.

"It will damage the wood," muttered Haddington, "but he'll recover." With intense concentration he raised the wood higher and then brought it down.

Lee pushed Sir Rupert aside at the last moment and stepped aside himself, with a thud the wood hit the floor, Lee stepped forward and threw a punch to Haddington's chin. The old Lord stood stunned for a second, then his eyes rolled to the roof and he dropped to the floor.

"That is one dangerous man." Said Cloud as Lee and Clarence raced to the fallen form.

"I heartily agree with you," said Sir Rupert as he mopped his brow with a handkerchief, "a dangerous, vicious man. Dangerous, vicious and..... dangerous." Even though he was unconscious, Haddington groaned.

"Mr Cloud will you take his legs?" Asked Clarence.

"Right." He took up the legs of the unconscious man.

"I'll take his shoulders." Said Lee and did so.

"If you'll come this way, gentlemen." Clarence and Gilmore led the way out of the room up the stairs and into Haddington's room. "Just place him on the bed."

Lee and Cloud placed him on the bed gently and walked back to the door to stand with Sir Rupert. While Gilmore expertly undressed Haddington, Clarence went to a chest of drawers, opened one of the drawers and took out a small leather box. He opened the box and took out a syringe.

"What's that for?" Asked Cloud.

Clarence looked over his shoulder with a start as if he had forgotten their presence, which he had.

"It's to help His Lordship sleep," he walked over to them and began to usher them from the room, "if you would be so kind, Sir Rupert, as to entertain our two guests, I'll join you presently."

"How shall I entertain them, Clarence, I can't entertain people, I wouldn't know how to entertain them."

Clarence was closing the door in his face. "Give them a drink." He suggested and closed the door.

"That's the kind of entertaining I like." Said Cloud as he rubbed his hands together.

"Come along, chaps, come along." Smiled Sir Rupert as he led the way.

"Is Clemmie often indisposed like that?" Asked Cloud.

"Quite often, oh, yes, quite often, he does tend to be often indisposed like that."

"How often?" Asked Lee.

"How often what?"

"Is Clem indisposed like that?" Asked Cloud.

Sir Rupert stopped and looked at them with a puzzled frown. "How often is he indisposed like that?" Echoed Sir Rupert half to himself. "Rarely." He smiled and turned on his heels to continue on his way. "Oh, dear me, very rarely."

"You just said it was often." Said Cloud.

"Who said?"

"You." Put in Lee.

"What did I say?"

"You said often."

"Did I? About what?"

"Your brother's indisposition."

"Why would I say a silly thing like that, no, no, my dear fellow you've misheard, yes, misheard, that's what you've done."

"Then Lord Haddington is not often like that?" Asked Lee.

"Quite often, oh, yes, quite often, tragic business."

"But you said......" Cloud stopped himself and turned to lee. "Do you get the feeling we're talking to ourselves?"

"Talking to yourselves," said Sir Rupert shaking his head sadly, "talking to yourselves, first sign of madness, you know, first sign, talking to yourselves, dear me." He caught sight of himself in a mirror as he was walking by, "good evening," he called with a smile, "charming fellow." He muttered.

"If it is the first sign, Two-Refs, it looks like we'll be joining a crowd." Said Cloud.

The card room was empty when they entered it, obviously Winterhaiming had retired earlier. It was after a few drinks and some jovial conversation that Clarence joined them. He poured himself a drink and sat in a chair facing them while they were still chuckling over one of Sir Rupert's jokes.

Finally, Sir Rupert decided to retire for the night, he, Cloud and Lee exchanged hearty goodnights and with a quick glance at the gloomy, silent Clarence left the room.

"Is he a card?" Asked Cloud of Lee, "ain't he, is he a card or is he a card?"

"He's a card, he's a card." Smiled Lee as he resumed his seat.

"You'd think he'd be a stuffed shirt, being called Sir and having a brother for a Lord, or is it a Lord for a brother?" Cloud scratched his head.

"He's no stuffed shirt." Said Lee.

"He sure ain't," Cloud shook his head, "he ain't no stuffed shirt."

"That's one thing Sir Rupert is not."

"He's not a stuffed shirt."

"He most definitely is not a stuffed shirt."

Clarence winced and put his hand to his head. "Gentlemen...." He began.

"I don't think you could call him a stuffed shirt." Said Cloud.

"I wouldn't call him a stuffed shirt."

"Gentlemen, do you realise you're repeating everything?"

"I'm not repeating anything, are you, Two-Refs?"

"No, I'm not repeating a thing."

"See, Clarence, my man, we ain't repeating nothing."

"Gentlemen, you are repeating to such an extent that I am approaching the point where I cannot be held responsible for my actions."

"It's the bump on the head, Clarence." Said Cloud.

"That's what it is, the bump on the head." Agreed Lee.

"Gentlemen....."

"You can't expect a bump on the head not to have some effect Clarence."

"That's right, the most sensitive part of the body," Lee sat tapping his head, "a bump on the head is....."

"Alright, I have a bump on the head," snapped Clarence, "I wonder if we might just change the subject, I think we've covered a bump on the head fairly extensively, now I want to speak on a different subject beside a bump on..... oh Lord, now I'm doing it." He rubbed his head.

"Like I said, Clarence, a bump....." Began Cloud.

"I want to ask a favour of you both." He said quickly.

"Anything you want, Clarence." Said Cloud.

"That's right." Agreed Lee.

"You want a favour, you go right ahead and ask anything at all."

"You want a favour?" Asked Lee, "anything."

"Thank you, gentlemen....."

"All you have to do is ask, don't he, Two-Refs?"

"That's right, Smoke, anything."

"Gentlemen, will you let me ask you the favour?"

"That's what we're waiting for, you go ahead." Said Cloud.

"Go right ahead, Mr Clarence....."

"In the name of Heaven, will you both hold your tongues!" Demanded Clarence.

"That seems easy enough." Smiled Cloud as he was just about to comply.

"I don't think that's what Mr Clarence meant."

"No, Mr Lee, it was not."

"We're listening." Said Lee.

"At last." He rubbed his head again.

"You go right....." Began Cloud, but Clarence gave him such an angry look he fell silent.

"Lord Haddington is the victim of a malady," began Clarence, "a malady over which he has no control, he doesn't suffer it often and its affects are not long lasting, once it passes he remembers nothing."

"I know a lot of people suffer that malady," smiled Cloud, "we call 'em drunks." Clarence gave him another sharp look, "Sorry."

"It is similar to inebriation....."

"To what?" Asked Cloud.

"A drunk." Said Lee.

"Oh."

"As I was saying, gentlemen, it has certain similarities..."

"A hell of a lot of 'em. I'd say. Sorry."

"But let me assure you both that it is far more serious than just....."

"Drunkenness." Put in Lee helpfully.

"A little too much to drink." Clarence was still rubbing his head.

"So what favour did you want, Clarence, if you want us to keep his glass filled...." Smiled Cloud.

"I do not want you to keep his glass filled." He raised his voice angrily, then quickly lowered it. "I want you both to give me your word that you will not discuss what happened tonight with another soul."

"A secret, you mean?" Asked Cloud.

"Precisely."

"You've got my word, Mr Clarence." Said Lee.

"And mine."

"Thank you," he got to his feet, "that's very kind of both of you, I think I'll retire for the night it's getting late. Goodnight." He nodded to both of them."Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

He was just walking out the door when Cloud turned to Lee.

"What do you suppose he meant by that crack about us repeating ourselves?"

"Beats me, Smoke, beats me."

"Me neither."

As he walked away Clarence began to rub the side of his head again.

Clarence had had a late night, in the sense that he had got to bed much later than he was used to, he had also drunk a little more than he was used to, this was due to the company and also to the fact that he had had a raging headache.

It wasn't the chirping of birds that awoke him very early in the morning when the sun had only just risen it was something more pressing, an urgent call of nature.

With bleary eyes and pounding head he literally crawled out of bed and onto the floor, he rose achingly to his height and stumbled over to the open window. Despite the sunny sky the morning was cold and he shivered and held his hands to his ears to drown out the birds.

"Quiet, quiet." He pleaded softly not daring to raise his voice, he stepped forward and closed the window, then with a sigh lowered himself to the floor on all fours and headed for something under the bed. Off in one corner he saw his prey, a chamber pot. With a smile he edged slowly toward it and was just putting his hand out when the silence was broken by the sound of breaking glass in the house below.

Clarence was startled and raised his head bringing it into violent contact with the bed.

"Confound it," he muttered between clenched teeth, "he couldn't be up this early." He dragged the pot from under the bed rubbing his head.

A short time later he was dressed and was making his way down the stairs, Gilmore was on his knees cleaning up some broken glass.

"Good morning, Gilmore."

"Good morning, sir, good morning." He said as he continued on with his work.

"Is Lord Haddington up?"

"No, sir, no, he's not up, sir, not yet."

"Then how...." Clarence pointed to the glass.

"Mr Lee, sir, he and Mr Cloud passed this way, Mr Lee and Mr Cloud, they were here, sir."

"Where are they now?"

"I believe they were on their way to the back of the house to, as Mr Cloud put it, torment a few trees, at the back of the house, I believe, sir."

"And where is Sir Rupert?"

"He was just here, sir, Sir Rupert was just here."

"I know that, where did he go?"

"He went looking for Larkin, sir, I believe he wanted a cup of tea made."

"He's gone in the direction of the kitchen?"

"I believe he has, sir, yes, in the direction of the kitchen."

Clarence was relieved he would be going nowhere near the kitchen as he walked to the back of the house.

He saw Lee and Cloud. Lee was jumping about throwing punches at an imaginary opponent under the directions of Cloud.

Clarence saw a chair to his left behind a stand holding a small, leafy pot plant, he walked over to it and sat down, he wanted to have a few words with Cloud but it could wait.

"The tree, Two-Refs, get the tree."

Lee danced over to a tree and threw some punches that he only just stopped from making contact.

"Good morning, lads." Came the cheery voice of Haddington from a room above.

"Good morning, Clem." Smiled Cloud, Lee was just throwing a punch, he turned to look up and his fist slammed into the tree, he turned to smile up at Haddington.

"What in Heaven's name are you both doing up so early?"

"This isn't early, Clem, this is our normal workout time, ain't it, Two-Refs?" Lee nodded.

"Decent, Christian gentlemen would never show their faces at such an obscene hour."

"We can't speak for them." Said Cloud and Lee nodded. "Keep at it, boy."

"I'll be right down."

"We'll wait."

Clarence sat sprawled in his chair watching a minor drama with a blank expression. Apparently only he was aware of it, but with Lee's thump to the tree a familiar face had suddenly appeared a few trees away.

Garth came creeping forward slowly with narrowed eyes.

'Should I warn Lee?' Thought Clarence but made no effort to do so.

The gardener reached the tree and slowly came around with his hands out ready to grip Lee by the throat; the boxer was throwing one punch after the other under the direction of Cloud, just stopping from hitting the tree.

"I say chaps," came the voice of Sir Rupert at the doorway as he came out followed by an elderly servant carrying a tray. "Care to join me for a cup of tea; I've got some tea here, care to join me?"

Cloud turned to nod and wave, Lee too turned just as he was throwing a punch, it caught Garth under the chin, bodily lifted him and knocked him from sight.

Clarence saw the pair of legs in the air going out of sight and snorted. Lee stood looking at his fist with a frown.

"What's wrong?" Asked Cloud.

"I think I hit the tree again."

"For God's sake be careful, Two-Refs, we don't want that Garth character jumping on us from one of his trees."

"Not much chance of that, he's probably sound asleep somewhere."

"Yeah, in a branch."

"Bring the tray down here, Larkin." Said Sir Rupert.

"Yes, sir."

While the servant stood with the tray, Sir Rupert began to pour himself a cup, but he was still groggy and managed to pour the steaming liquid onto Larkin's hand, with a yelp of pain he stepped back and bumped into the small table holding the pot plant, it wobbled a little and finally the pot plant fell from sight to land with a gentle thud.

"Be careful, Larkin, don't spill the tea." Said Sir Rupert as he stepped forward to grab him by an arm."

"No, sir."

"This way." Haddington appeared at the doorway and he and his brother led the servant off toward some tables and chairs to one side of the house.

Lee and Cloud came walking by. "Who's that?" Asked Lee as they caught sight of two legs spread out from a chair.

"It's Clarence." Smiled Cloud. "Asleep."

"Funny place to sleep."

"Yeah." They joined Haddington and Sir Rupert down at the table.

"Some toast, Two-Refs?" Asked Haddington.

"That sounds like a good idea." He was just picking up a piece of toast when Cloud snatched it from him.

"No you don't."

"Hey..."

"No breakfast for you until after your morning run."

"Aw, Smoke."

"On your way, go on."

"Where?"

"Anywhere, just run." He munched on the toast.

"If you go through the trees there," said Haddington pointing with a piece of toast, "you should come to our road to the village.'

"Yeah, that sounds good." Said Cloud. "Get moving, boy."

With his arms held high and his elbows tucked in, Lee did a standing run and then ran off toward the trees.

"He's remarkably fit." Said Haddington to Cloud.

"He certainly is," said Sir Rupert, "fit to a remarkable degree, really fit."

"He's fighting fit, Clem, fighting fit."

Garth had got to his feet to stumble off to another tree, he stood leaning against it under some low hanging branches.

"What hit me, Rupert?" He mumbled just as Lee came running past and grabbed a branch to clear the way, then released it, it sprang back to hit Garth in the chest and knock him to the ground, he sat there stunned for a second when another branch broke loose from above to fall on him. "Rupert?" He managed to say before he fell sideways unconscious.

Lee found the road and with steady tread set off for the village, he ran and ran, past quiet trees and solemn cows standing watching him from paddocks, until he saw the spire of the church in the distance, he did a little running on the spot as he watched some birds overhead, then turned and headed back to Lord Haddington's house.

He was running swiftly along when he caught sight of a man sitting under a tree just off the road, it was the first person he'd seen since he set off on his run.

He halted and did some more running on the spot while the figure puffed quietly on a pipe and watched him.

"Morning." Said Lee as he walked over to him.

"Good morning." He smiled. He wore a neat tweed suit with a deerstalker hat, he had bright blue eyes and a neat beard.

"I'm Lee."

"How do you do, Mr Lee. Marlowe." He held out his hand and Lee took it. "You're Lord Haddington's guest?"

"Yes."

"American."

"Yes."

"The pugilist?"

"Yes."

"Care to join me?"

"Thanks." Lee sat down beside him and Marlowe held up an open bag with sandwiches.

"Cucumber." He said simply.

"Thanks." Lee took one. "You know about me?"

"There's very little that doesn't happen within a radius of a hundred miles that the village doesn't know about seconds after it's happened." He looked at Lee carefully as he smoked his pipe and the American munched on his sandwich. "Are you his grandson?"

"I don't know, my manager seems to think I am."

"I hope you are. Lord Clumsy needs a grandson."

"Lord Clumsy?" Lee looked at him. "Who is Lord Clumsy?"

"Lord Haddington of course, it's an affectionate nickname the villagers have given him."

"Why do they call him that?"

"You don't know?" Asked Marlowe with surprise.

"No, I don't." He shook his head.

"You've only been there one night, you'll soon find out."

"It seems a silly thing to call him." Lee shook his head.

"You've met his brother, Rupert Repetitious?"

"Rupert Repetitious?"

"You're not going to question that nickname, surely?"

"No," he chuckled, "I think I've got a rough idea where that came from."

"I should think so, I should think so." They both laughed. "Drink?" Marlowe offered him a small flask. "It's only water I'm afraid ."

"Thanks, it's just what I need." He took a drink and handed it back. "You said he needs a grandson?"

"That's right."

"What did you mean?"

"What do you know about Lord Haddington?"

"Not much."

"He's very attached to his lands, his estates are the great love of his life, he looked forward with pride when he could leave them to his son, who he worshiped. His only son was killed some years ago while soldiering in Africa, he left a young childless widow, who later remarried. Lord Haddington's only daughter ran off with an actor from the stage, the last heard of them was that they were on their way to America where she gave birth to a son.

"A few years ago Lord Haddington's wife died and that left him with Rupert and his wife, both far from young, and I believe for the first time it began to dawn on him that his estates would be broken up on his death and scattered to distant relatives, that's when he began this search for his grandson."

"Smoke didn't tell me that."

"Smoke?"

"My manager."

"He's a tragic figure really."

"A gentleman just the same."

"Oh, yes, the very soul of a gentleman, you couldn't meet a finer man, that is provided he keeps away from the drink." Lee looked at him sharply. "If he gets in his cups it's like a totally different man. There is a Scottish novelist named Robert Louis Stevenson, he wrote a book called 'Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde' or some such thing, have you read it?" Lee shook his head. "It's a tale of a man with two different personalities in the one body; many locals swear the story is based on Lord Haddington."

Lee munched on his sandwich in silence.

"It's only over the past couple of years, just since the death of his wife in fact, that this personality has revealed itself. He was always a moderate drinker before that." Marlowe looked at him in profile as he munched on another sandwich. "You've met the other Lord Haddington, haven't you?"

Lee just looked at him.

"It's no secret, Mr Clarence would like to think it is, but it's one of those well-kept secrets everybody knows about."

"I'd rather forget about the other Lord Haddington." Lee said quietly.

"He is rather a nasty blighter, isn't he?" Asked Marlowe and Lee just nodded.

"You haven't told me what you're doing up so early, Mr Marlowe?"

"Liman."

"Liman?"

"That's my name, Liman Marlowe."

"That's a strange name."

"It's German, my grandmother was German, and I got the name from one of her brothers. I'm an amateur naturalist, I work in the city during the week and go out into the fields on the weekend, my only opportunity."

"What's your job?"

"I'm a civil servant."

"With the government?"

"Yes."

"Sounds very important."

"Far from it, my dear chap, a very minor position, I assure you." Marlowe got to his feet and brushed off the grass from his clothes, he picked up a small wicker basket with a long cord and draped it over his shoulder, he picked up the flask and the remains of the sandwiches and their wrappings and placed them in the basket.

"You study flowers and trees and such?"

"In my own small way."

Lee got to his feet. "How does Garth feel about that?"

"At first he wasn't too keen on the idea, he regards all his fellow humans with the utmost suspicion so you can imagine how he felt about some city popinjay poking at his beloved trees?"

"I got some idea."

"He put me on probation so to speak and spied on me every chance he had, when he found some leaves in my pocket one day, I seriously feared for my life until I could convince him that I had picked them from the ground where they had fallen. He suffers me to wander among his trees with very bad grace if I may say so, I suspect its Lord Haddington's kindness really."

"Well, Liman it's been a pleasure making your acquaintance." Lee held out his hand.

"Same here, old chap." He shook it vigorously, "by the way what is your name?"

"My friends call me Two-Refs."

"How odd. Wherever did you manage to pick that gem up?"

"Most fighters have a nickname, Slugger, Punchy, Haystack."

"Not many with the name Two-Refs, I'll wager."

"Not that I've come across."

"You must tell me where...I say." Marlowe squinted off into the distance.

"Something wrong?"

"It's Mr Garth."

"Where?"

"Just over there, see him, talking to one of his trees?"

"I can't see anything."

"I suppose we must go over and say good morning."

"Must we?"

"It's the decent thing to do, besides he knows we're here, there isn't much his trees miss."

"And they tell him?" He asked sceptically.

"Apparently."

"Do you believe that?"

"Mr Garth seems to, and there is very little that happens around his trees he doesn't know about."

"Talking trees." Mumbled Lee as they walked over toward a big tree.

"Being a student of nature, Two-Refs, I'm constantly amazed at her ingenuity and versatility, nothing she does would surprise me. Good morning, Mr Garth."

"Eh? What?" Came the testy voice of Garth who got up from the ground where he had been laying while he inspected the roots. "Oh, it's you, is it? I was hoping I'd run into you."

"Were you?"

"You've been scratching the roots of my lads."

"Have I?"

"Don't try to deny it, old Jack told me it was you, you've been at Willie and Jock and Cicero."

"Old Jack?" Asked Lee of Marlowe.

"This is old Jack." He pointed to the tree in front of him. "I'm sorry, Mr Garth, old Jack must be mistaken."

"Old Jack is never mistaken, if he said you did it, then you must have done it, Willie said so too. These lads are trees, Mr Marlowe, not damn scratching posts."

"Let me assure you, Mr Garth, nothing on earth would induce me to harm your lads."

"A likely story." Garth knelt down to look at something, "That doesn't help old Jack's roots here where you've torn them to pieces."

"Let me have a look." Lee said stepping from behind Marlow coming into view for the first time and going over to look.

"Who's that?" Asked Garth angrily as he squinted up, when he got a look at who it was he jumped up quickly, he looked at Lee with narrowed eyes and then shot a glance above his head instinctively as if he expected a branch to fall. He stepped out into a clearing quickly.

"There's not much damage." Lee said.

"You'd say different if your flesh was hanging from your foot."

"This was done by an animal," said Lee, "a small animal with claws."

"That's right, that's right. See Mr Marlowe, you stand condemned by the evidence."

Marlowe came over to take a look. "A cat most probably." He said.

"Ruddy little beasts, tearing at my poor lads like that."

"Not much harm done." Said Marlowe.

"That's easy enough for you to say, there's poor old Jack wailing his heart out with a torn foot and you say not much harm done."

"Old Jack seems steady enough to me." Said Lee as he stepped up to the trunk of the tree and gave it a shake or two.

"That's right," snapped Garth, "Shake the life out of him."

"He seems as firm as.....as....."

"As an oak?" Put in Marlowe.

"Yeah, as an oak." Smiled Lee.

"It's not enough some beast rips at his foot and some great bear tries to tear him out by the roots, he has to be the butt of weak jokes."

"I thought it was most apt, Mr Garth." Said Marlowe.

"Well, you would, wouldn't you? Go on, on your way before you do more damage."

"Good morning, Mr Garth."

"Good morning." Said Lee as they walked back to the road.

"Good morning, good morning." Said Garth impatiently as he ran over to the trunk of old Jack."You alright, lad? Did the oaf hurt your tired old bones?" He patted the trunk and shook a clenched fist at the disappearing Lee.

The shaking had had some effect on old Jack and a branch dislodged itself from above to drop on the head of the angry man.

"What was that?" Asked Lee as he looked back.

"I heard nothing, old chap."

"Where's Garth?"

"Don't worry about him, he's probably bathing old Jack's foot." Smiled Marlowe.

"Yeah, yeah, he probably is."

Once they reached the road, Marlowe waved goodbye and went off into the trees while Lee began his run back to the house.

Everybody was just settling down to a hearty breakfast. Lady Marlebone had craftily manoeuvred Cynthia to sit next to Winterhaiming where they both ate in silence, Clarence sat nursing a fresh bump on his head as he sipped his tea.

Sir Rupert and Haddington sat laughing loudly as they listened to the fund of stories told by Cloud.

"Not too much for you, Two-Refs." Ordered Cloud as Lee began to help himself from large plates of food on the sideboard. He sat next to Cloud and started to go to work on a plate of sausages, eggs and bacon."....... to the chin, and down he went." Continued Cloud.

"Dear me, dear me, was he injured?" Asked Rupert.

"Who?"

"The spectator, the chap who jumped in the ring, the spectator chappie?"

"Not a scratch on him, a grin all over his face, holding his hands in the air as if he'd won."

"Well, he had won, hadn't he, he won the blasted fight, pardon me ladies."

"He did and he didn't."

"How could that be?" Asked Haddington.

"Well, it's true he did knock out the champ, but the champ's opponent came flying across the ring and knocked him right out of the building, took most of the roof with him."

"Was he injured?"

"I don't think so, but his neck was a good two inches longer."

The two brothers had a good laugh over that.

"Physical violence is so vulgar, don't you think so, Mr Winterhaiming?"Asked Lady Marlebone.

"I must confess I do find it rather tiresome."

"My poor Cynthia would swoon at the very mention of such things, wouldn't you, my dear?"

"Yes, mother." She replied showing every sign of doing no such thing.

"I believe a gentleman can solve every problem by the use of his intellectual capacities rather than resorting to his fists." Said Winterhaiming.

"Oh, I agree," smiled Lady Marlebone, "we couldn't agree more, could we, Cynthia?"

"No, mother."

"Hmm." Said Haddington winking at Cloud, "you must try it some time, my boy." He was looking down at Winterhaiming when he'd finished.

"Try what, your Lordship?" Asked Winterhaiming in surprise.

"The jam, my boy, at your elbow there, simply delicious."

"Thank you, I shall."

"There's nothing wrong with boxing." Said Lee between a mouthful of food, "it's a good, clean, manly sport."

"It's crude and tiresome."

"There ain't nothing more edifyin'," said Cloud seriously, "then watching two giants of the ring knocking each other's brains out."

"And being thankful you're not one of them," smiled Sir Rupert, "not one of them, you'd be very thankful, thankful indeed."

"You got a point, Rupert, you got a point." Said Cloud and they all had to laugh.

"It's a disgusting, cruel and vicious waste of human life." Said Cynthia determinedly.

There was a shocked silence.

"I say." Said Sir Rupert.

"Did that come from Cynthia, our Cynthia?" Asked Haddington in surprise.

"Cynthia!" Lady Marlebone turned pale as she looked intently at her daughter, who dropped her head to look down into her cup of tea. "You will apologise at once, whatever will these gentlemen think of you," she looked at Winterhaiming, "she's not really like this, it's the vitamins our doctor's been giving her, they've unhinged her mind."

"I do hope there's not going to be a family squabble," Winterhaiming stifled a yawn, "family squabbles are so tiresome."

"I have no idea where she picks these things up," said a glum Lady Marlebone, "she's normally the best of daughters, the apple of her father's eye."

"When women have opinions you're heading for trouble." Said Cloud.

"Exactly, old chap." Agreed Haddington.

"There ain't nothing wrong with anybody having an opinion," said Lee, "you got an opinion, Cynthia, you speak up."She lifted her head slightly and smiled shyly and for the first time he realised she was really quite pretty.

"There are opinions and there are opinions," said Cloud, "men should hold 'em, mainly because they're usually right, but what do women know about sport?"

"Quite right." Said Haddington and Sir Rupert nodded in agreement. "I ain't met a woman yet who knows what sport is all about, let alone boxing....them ancient Greeks they boxed."

"That is absolutely so." Said Haddington.

"It didn't do them no harm, did it?"

"Is there any Greek empire today?" Asked Cynthia suddenly.

"What, what........" Spluttered Haddington.

"It's still there, ain't it? I was talking to Nick the Greek in Chicago last month and he came from Greece, so it must be still there."

"Well done, sir, well done." Smiled Sir Rupert, "spot on."

"Cynthia, not another word."

"Yes, mother."

"Go to your room at once and compose yourself."

"Yes, mother."

She got to her feet and the gentlemen rose as she left the room.

"I can't understand what's getting into her, too much time on her hands."Said Lady Marlebone.

"Idleness is so tiresome."

"Oh, I agree, Mr Winterhaiming, I agree, what she needs is a family of her own and she'll be the wonderful daughter she's always been." She said softly watching the bored face of Winterhaiming.

"Would you believe it?" Smiled Haddington, "the lad who marries that little lady will have quite a task on his hands, I had no idea she had such spirit,"

"Well, I for one pity the poor fellow who chains himself to that one," said Cloud, "she reminds me too much of my wife."

"Is your wife with you in England, Mr Cloud?" Asked Sir Rupert.

"God was kind to me, Rupert, he took her some years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"She's not dead, she ran away with the iceman, I hated the character until then"

They all had a good laugh, even Haddington who smiled broadly but only Lee noticed the smile didn't reach his eyes.

After breakfast Sir Rupert got the two ladies and Winterhaiming to join him in a game of bridge, Clarence slept with a paper on his lap. Lee and Cloud sat outside on the chairs with their feet up on the table both apparently asleep.

Haddington wondered among the trees with Garth trotting at his heels.

"You've done an excellent job."

"I'd do a lot better if Sir Rupert would keep to the house when he's here, he upsets my lads." He said testily.

"Yes, I can understand their being upset."

"Don't like him, my lads don't like him. Him and that Yankee."

"Cloud?"

"Where?" Garth looked into the sky.

"Were you referring to Mr Cloud, my guest?"

"Oh, him, no, the other one, the one who punches things."

"Mr Lee."

"Him."

"I'm sure if you tell your.......lads to keep away from him they'll be alright."

"It's him, Your Lordship, he goes looking for them."

"Does he?"

"Seeks 'em out, you might say, and thumps the life out of 'em."

"I'm sure he doesn't mean to."

"Upsetting them something terrible he is, I don't like their muttering," he was beginning to whine a little, "they're talking revolution, Your Lordship, they're talking revolution."

"Well, we shall just have to live with it, I'm afraid, Mr Garth."

"Let me chuck him out of your house, Your Lordship, off your land, I should like that."

"You? By yourself?"

"No, no, me and the lads."

"You and the lads?"

"Yes."

"I shall make you this promise, Mr Garth, if the need should ever arise that Mr Lee has to be ejected from my house, I shall call upon you and your lads."

"Oh, good." He danced a little jig of pleasure, "good."

Haddington walked away shaking his head and muttering about revolution. "You hear that, Rupert," Garth ran over to a tree, "revenge, lad." A branch came dropping down to just miss him, "not yet, you clot." He walked over to give the tree a kick, "you drop any arms on me and I'll cut the lot off." He stared up in defiance, "that's better." He turned to walk away and another branch suddenly fell in front of him and tripped him over.

"I'm going for a ride into the village, Two-Refs, would you and Smokey care to join me?" Asked Haddington as he walked over to them.

"Yeah, thanks." He reached over to give Cloud a nudge, but he pushed too hard and Cloud fell out of his chair and rolled on the grass, he jumped to his feet still half asleep.

"Get the tree, Two-Refs, get it." He stood with raised fists and blinked his eyes. "Where am I?"

"You got trees on the mind, Smoke." Smiled Lee.

"Eh? Oh, yeah, yeah." He scratched his head.

"Lord Haddington is going into the village for a visit, he asked us to come along, if we like."

"That right, Clem? Good idea, thanks, Clem."

"My pleasure. The carriage should be ready by now." He led them to the front of the house and an open carriage stood waiting for them complete with driver and footman.

"The last time I saw a get-up like that a Governor was in it." Smiled Cloud beaming with admiration.

Clarence came down the front steps quickly to join them, they stood at the open door as Haddington stepped up, he stumbled on the step and stepped back, to land on one of Clarence's feet.

"Good Lord, Clarence, why must you continually get in people's way?"

"Sorry, Your Lordship." He grimaced.

Haddington got in followed by Clarence and Cloud.

"I'll fix this, pal." Said Lee to the footman holding the door.

"Oh, no, sir..." Lee grabbed at the door.

"You go on with what you've got to do, I'll take it."

"No, sir...."

"Humour him." Ordered Clarence of the footman.

"Very well, sir."

"There ain't nothing to it." He closed the door quickly just for practice, there was a yelp from Clarence.

"Something wrong?"

"Just open the door." Said Clarence with another grimace.

"Clarence," said Haddington, "how in the name of Heaven did you get your hand caught there?"

"I'm not sure, Your Lordship, I just wasn't watching."

"I know that," he turned to Cloud, "he just fills me with amazement."

"You said it, Clem."

"This clumsiness has got to stop."

"Yes, Your Lordship."

Lee opened the door, climbed in and closed the door, he walked to his seat, managing to step on Clarence's other foot.

"Sorry, pal."

"Think nothing of it, I'm growing rather fond of pain."

"Yeah, sure."

"Do stop complaining, Clarence. Rogers let's be off."

"Very good, Your Lordship." The driver whipped up the horses. Lee leaned forward to whisper to Cloud who sat opposite him with Haddington.

"Hear that, Smoke, fond of pain, we've got a queer egg here."

"Shh."Whispered Cloud.

Lee sat back and smiled at Haddington who was chatting away about the sights of the village.

* * * * *

# Chapter 3

"You made it then?" He was kneeling down working on the handful of scraggily flowers that grew near his front gate, he often referred to them in misguided pride as his garden.

"Morning, George." Smiled his brother as he leaned on the fence.

"Where's Dickie?"

"Here." Dickie, the third brother came waddling up to the fence eating a piece of pie he'd saved on the train journey from London.

"You walk from the station?" Asked George as he straightened up to take his pipe from the pocket of his old coat.

"Naw, naw, men of means don't walk, do they Charlie? We just let the coach and four go, didn't we?"

"Shut up, Dickie." Said a relaxed Charlie on the fence.

"Same wit, I see." Said George.

"'Fraid so, no improvement."

"I'm never funny when I'm hungry."

"You took the words out of me mouth, Dickie." Said Charlie.

"And I usually get hungry when I haven't had nothin' to eat."

George stood puffing on his pipe as he watched Dickie take another huge bite of his pie, making his cheeks swell out alarmingly.

"Let's see that wall, George." Said Charlie.

"Yeah, c'mon it's around the back."

"It's still holding up, then?"

"It is, but I can't see how, Gracie comes out every morning and barks at it a couple of times, I think it's too scared to fall." George led the way around the back of the house.

"A wall being scared." Chuckled Dickie and he placed the last of his pie in his mouth.

"George!" The ground seemed to shake under their feet.

"What was that?" Gasped Dickie as he swallowed the food without chewing it.

"That was Gracie." Said George.

"That wall showed good sense, George." Said Dickie wiping his mouth with his handkerchief. "She sounds different from the shrivelled up little thing at the wedding, you know, she was terrified of shadows on the wall." He mimicked someone jumping back in fright.

"You must have attended the wrong wedding, lad, my Gracie isn't afeared of anything or anyone, except her mother, but then everybody's scared of her."

"George!"

"I'm here, woman, out the back," he called, "is it necessary for you to shatter every window in the village?"

"When are those two no-good brothers of yours coming, I've nearly finished this pot of tea, and I'll not be making a second...." She came out of the house and stood with her hands on her hips.

"The no-goods are here." Said George.

"I can see that. You both took your time."

"Blame the train, missus." Smiled Dickie.

She turned her head sharply to look at him with a cold face. "I'll have to get in more food." She said.

"Why?" Asked Dickie innocently.

"We got a store of supplies in yesterday." Said George.

"We'll need more."

"Alright, alright, get your list, woman, I'll go into the shops, the lads can help me." With a grim look at the two brothers she went inside.

"I don't feel much like going shopping." Said Dickie a little glumly.

"The shops are just past 'The Hanging Lord.'" Smiled George with a wink to Charlie.

"Is he still hanging?" Said Dickie rubbing his hands with glee.

"He is."

"What's he so happy about?" Snapped Gracie as she came back out of the house.

"Hanging....hanging...." Stuttered Dickie.

"They're going to hang a Lord in the city." Put in Charlie quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right." Smiled Dickie as he continued to rub his hands.

"That's typical of him," she snapped, "to get pleasure out of the misfortunes of others."

"I'm perv.....perv....."

"Twisted." Said George.

"So's his brain." Said Gracie coldly, Dickie raised his eyebrows in silent surprise. "Here." She handed the list to George who stuffed it in his pocket. "I know what time it is," she said as she walked back into the house, "I'll expect you back in time for dinner." She turned to face them grimly. "Sober."

"You don't have to worry about us, missus." She looked at Dickie in silence then went into the house. "That woman is cruel," he said, "sober did she say?"

"Can we see the wall, George?"

"This way, lads."

"Charlie, what was that word I was trying to think of, perv.....perv......"

"Twisted."

"Yeah, that's it." Dickie stood for a second, shrugged his shoulders and followed his brothers.

"There she is." George put his hands in his pockets and stood back to puff on his pipe.

"That is old." Said Charlie as he knelt down and examined the crumbling mortar.

"Told you."

"It's a wonder it's held up this long." Said Dickie.

"It's been here a long time, said George, "since before the house itself was built, its survived storms and tempests...."

With a sigh of tiredness Dickie put his hand flat against the wall and leaned on it, immediately his arm sank into it up to his shoulder.

"It is old." Smiled Dickie weakly.

"Mind the dog." Said George calmly.

"Dog, what dog?" Asked Dickie.

"On the other side of the wall."

"Dog!" Dickie pulled his arm out and took a fair part of the wall with him. "What are you doing with a vicious dog, George?"

"He's not vicious, he's old, seeing a great fist come bashing through a wall could prove bad for his heart."

"I hate dogs," said Dickie as he approached the hole in the wall angrily, "I especially hate old dogs." He was just about to put his head through the hole when there came thunderous barking and growling on the other side of the wall. "I better not look in, I don't want to frighten the poor old thing."

"Wise man." Smiled Charlie as he slapped Dickie on the shoulder.

"C'mon lads, let's not keep that Lord hanging, I bet his tongue's hanging out to his toes." Said George.

"If his isn't, mine is." Said Dickie.

"You heard what I said, George." Called his wife from the house, "you be home for dinner."

"I heard you, Gracie. Leave your bags there; no one will touch 'em." He sighed as he led them through the gate, "I tell you, Charlie, don't ever be foolish enough to get married."

"Sorry to disappoint you, George, I am married, and you were best man at the wedding."

"Was I? Oh, it must be Dickie here, he's not married."

"If I'm not there's some demented old hag wondering the streets of London claiming I am."

"That's funny, I was sure one of us was not married." He said half to himself.

"Maybe it's you." Smiled Dickie.

"Would you tell Gracie that?" Asked George hopefully.

"It's not you, George." Dickie went closer to Charlie, "to think he was regarded as the smart one of the family, what would that make us?" He laughed, Charlie looked at him with a frown. "What are you thinking, Charlie, tell me, what are you thinking?"

George was chuckling as they walked down the road toward the high street.

"This will do, Rogers, stop here, we'll walk the rest of the way."

The carriage halted on a road that went on down an incline into the village spread out at their feet.

They climbed out and stood looking out across the village as the carriage clattered on its way.

"You English," smiled Cloud, "you call it a village, it's the size of a town."

"Convention, my dear fellow." Said Haddington as he strode off.

"It's always referred to as the village, to separate it from London which is referred to as the city or town."

"It's been the site of a village for over a thousand years," said Clarence, "Roman legions used it as a resting place."

"Say, now that's history." Said Cloud impressed.

"It certainly is."

"You own some of it, don't you, Clem?"

"Lord Haddington owns all of it." Said Clarence.

"Even the church?" Asked Lee.

"No, not the church, nor the land, that was a gift one of my ancestor's made a long time ago to the church."

"To please a king." Said Clarence.

"Stuff and nonsense."

"Stuff and what?"Asked Cloud.

"My ancestors knew their responsibilities and obligations and took them seriously."

"And gave a small section of swamp to the church and got a parcel of good grazing land from a grateful monarch." Said Clarence.

"You've gotten that from books."

"Of course."

"You should read my late uncle's history of the area."

"I have, notoriously inaccurate." Smiled Clarence.

"Nothing on the good Lord's earth will open a closed mind." Muttered Haddington.

"I agree."

Haddington stopped and stared off into the distance. "Two-Refs, come here," Lee stepped beside him and the old man put his hand on his shoulder and pointed into the middle distance. "See that clump of trees just on the horizon?"

"Yes."

"The border of my estate is just beyond that, all the land you can see around you belongs to my estate."

"Good Moses." Said Cloud, "you must be a Texan."

"You can see, Two-Refs," said Haddington seriously, "the estate is very extensive, the man who fills my shoes will carry a heavy burden with great responsibilities."

"Yes."

"It's not something to be entered into lightly, it does carry a great deal of money, he will need strength, determination, compassion...." He hesitated, "and youth."

"He sure will." Agreed Lee.

"Not forgetting intelligence." Said Clarence.

"Bah, intelligence," Haddington strode off, "not one Haddington has ever had intelligence, if the Haddington's had had intelligence we'd be the Royal Family today."

"How's that?" Asked Cloud.

"They picked the wrong side." Said Haddington.

"When?"

"Every time there was a side to pick."

"If you own all this, Clem, they can't have been too far wrong."

"Never mistake low, animal cunning for intelligence. The Haddingtons may have been mistaken in their choice of sides but they always managed to land on their feet."

All the way into the village Clarence and Haddington kept up a running fight on the history of the family.

"What are they talking about?" Asked Lee.

"I don't know, but ain't history something?"

Dickie saw the barrow across the road and while he walked over to it to buy some fruit, George and Charlie went on toward the hoisted Lord.

He picked out a few pieces of fruit while the owner leaned against the barrow with his arms folded on his chest.

After stuffing his pockets he asked how much he owed.

"Thrupence."

"Thrupence?"

"Thrupence, mate."

"Look mate, I just want some fruit, not your barrow."

"Give me the money or put the stuff back, I ain't twistin' your arm, am I?"

"That's a matter of opinion." He put an apple in his mouth and began to search his pockets for the money.

"No." The owner stood up, his face flushed, his eyes bulging as he looked over Dickie's shoulder.

"What's ub wid you?" Asked Dickie between his apple.

"Out of me way." He brushed past him to grab the handles of the barrow.

"Do you want your money or don't you?"

"It's on me, mate, Lord Clumsy's coming." He pushed the barrow with all his might, a wheel passed over Dickie's foot.

"Ohhhhh," he danced about the road on one foot, then stood shaking a fist at the quickly moving figure, "Lord Ruddy Clumsy isn't coming, mate, he's just been." He reached down to touch his toes gingerly through his boot. He was picking the pieces of fruit up from the ground where they had fallen from his pocket and from the barrow.

"Disgusting." Came the voice of Clarence.

"We have beggars in the village now." Came the voice of Haddington.

"You fellow." Clarence stood over Dickie.

"Who are you calling....."

"Here." Clarence gave him a coin.

"Thank ye, sir," Dickie raised his hat and lowered his head as he looked down at the coin.

"Even your beggars look well off." Said Cloud as he looked back to see the chubby figure return to his fruit gathering.

"Of course."

They went off up the road in the same direction Charlie and George had gone. Dickie was munching on a banana in the middle of the road when a cart came galloping toward him, he just stepped aside in time as it flew past, but it hit a bump that knocked over a milk can in the back and showered him with milk.

"Gawd." He muttered.

"Lord Clumsy." Called the driver as he flew off as if that were sufficient answer.

"Really? I just met his brother!" Called Dickie as he limped on his foot and wiped his face with the sleeve of his coat.

"Out of me way!" Dickie turned to see a man running toward him carrying a large tray stacked with cheeses.

"Lord Clumsy?" He asked as the figure flashed past him.

"If he gets near these, I'll lose the lot."

"Ruddy place is overrun with ruddy Lord Clumsys." Said Dickie as he watched the runner and continued to eat his banana.

The runner stepped on the skin, the tray went flying into the sky, Dickie watched it with open mouth as it shot up and then came roaring down.

"I must meet this Lord Clumsy." He thought to himself as the tray and cheeses came down on his head.

It was a bedraggled figure that stumbled into the pub some time later, sporting a bump on top of his head.

George finished draining his glass and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then caught sight of the mess staring at him.

"Hello, is Lord Clumsy in the village?"

"I think you'll both find a lot to interest you today," Haddington was saying, "Saturday is market day for the whole district, the High Street will be alive from one end to the other with barrows and carts, little sideshow theatres. There's entertainment for every taste." They turned a corner from a small street onto a larger one. "The noise can sometimes be rather frightful.I....I...." Haddington came to a sudden halt.

"We're used to noise, ain't we, Two-Refs?" Lee nodded. They all stood looking up a long, wide, empty street, there was one small dog far down near the end busily sniffing at the ground. The raucous call of a crow high overhead was the only sound.

"What street is this?" Asked Cloud.

"This, gentlemen, is the high street." Said Clarence.

"Are we the first to arrive?" Asked Cloud.

"It is Saturday, Clarence?"

"I believe so, Your Lordship."

"Where are they?"

"They could be at church."

"This Godless bunch of thieves and cut-throats?"

"Sounds like Chicago." Said Cloud to Lee.

"It might be a religious day, patron saint of barrows or something, they could all be up there getting their barrows blessed."

"If it were patron saint of useless oafs they'd have reason to be up there." Snapped Haddington grumpily as he strode down the empty street.

Dickie squeezed his arm through the crush at the counter, his hand closed around a glass and with great effort he managed to get it through, he was about to take a drink when he realised the sleeve of his coat was gone.

"Someone lose a hat?" Called the inn-keeper from behind the bar above the din.

When Dickie first came into the pub there had been a handful of quietly drinking figures, now it was filled to the rafters with people, noise and smoke. He reached up to a gas lamp above his head to raise himself a little while he balanced on the edge of a chair occupied by Charlie.

"Inn-keeper," he called, "I've lost a sleeve, if one turns up."

The inn-keeper reached down and came up with a handful of sleeves. "Which one's yours, sir?"

"Never mind." He grimaced as he lowered himself to the ground, he was about to take a sip of his drink when he realised Charlie and George were both missing a sleeve.

"Lord Ruddy Clumsy's comin' this way." Called a hysterical voice from the door. There was a stunned silence.

"Out the back, lads." Called the inn-keeper. There was an instant flight as every soul made for the back at the same time. Dickie found himself moving along in the crush without his feet touching the ground, his full glass of beer pinned to his chest.

"Lads, lads," he said with a worried look at the glass, but he sighed with relief as he found himself out in the sunshine able to move his arms again. He raised the glass to his lips and was about to drink when a couple of fellows panicked and rushed out bumping into him and the beer spilled down the front of his coat. He stood at the back door to the inn as the inn-keeper slammed it in his face.

"Come on, Dickie." Called George.

"I'd like to meet this ruddy Lord Clumsy."

"What, and be the victim of some nasty accidents?"

"It'd make it legal wouldn't it?" He muttered angrily as he followed his brothers.

"Good morning, Mr Shingle."

"Good morning, Your Lordship, Mr Clarence."

The four came in to sit down at one of the tables.

"These two gentlemen are visitors from America, Mr Lee and Mr Cloud.

"How do you do, gentlemen?"

"This is Mr Shingle, the proprietor of this establishment."

Clarence sat down in the chair that had recently been vacated by Charlie, he caught sight of Shingle hurriedly clearing away a pile of sleeves, and gave him a knowing look. "Been a quiet morning has it, Shingle?"

"Yes, Mr Clarence, a very quiet morning. The usual for yourself and his Lordship?"

"Yes, please."

"And the two Yanks....I mean the Americans?"

"Just beer." Said Cloud and held up two fingers, "I'll say this for you Englishmen, your beer is unbeatable." He said it with a straight face.

'Liar.' Thought Lee.

'Damn liar.' Thought Clarence.

'The man's a diplomat.' Thought Haddington, 'lies with a straight face.'

"Why is this place called 'The Hanging Lord?'" Asked Lee of Haddington.

"It commemorates the fate of one of my ancestors during the English Civil War."

"Something like that." Smiled Clarence.

"Come along, my dear fellow, you're not going to tell me you agree with that dribble passed out by that old woman Rutherford?"

"He is considered our most outstanding contemporary historian."

"Bah!" Haddington grabbed his drink just as the inn-keeper came across the room to place the drinks on the table.

"He's held to be the greatest authority on the history of this area."

"Only by Mrs Rutherford, and himself, of course. The Conceited ass."

"Conceit doesn't necessarily mean inaccurate, Your Lordship."

"Bah, the man has an axe to grind."

"What axe?"

"How should I know, I don't know the fellow at all."

"Then how do you know he's got an axe to grind?"

"You see, gentlemen," said Haddington to Lee and Cloud. "Do you see the dangers of taking an ordinary, likeable chap and filling him with legal mumbo-jumbo?"

"You've not answered my question, Your Lordship?"

"All I wanted to know was why the place was called 'The Hanging Lord.'"Said Lee.

"Alright, I'll tell you." Said Clarence, "according to Rutherford, who researched the whole thing thoroughly, one of Lord Haddington's ancestors helped the Royalist side during the English Civil War so the Roundheads took it into their heads to punish him....."

"Bah!" Snorted Haddington. "He's completely wrong there from the start."

"I'm certain that that is what he wrote."

"If he wrote that he's wrong. My ancestor offered aid to the Roundheads and it was the Royalists who decided to punish him."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course." Said Haddington smugly.

"But your ancestor did help the Royalist side?"

"At the beginning of the war...."

"Oh, I see."

".......and in the second month...."

"The second month?"

"...and just before the war ended."

"So he supported either side at some time?" Asked Lee.

"He was a very democratic fellow." Said Haddington.

"Yes." Said Clarence.

"As a matter of fact the Roundheads were going to hang him, but the Royalists retook the village and saved him." Haddington scratched his head, "or was it the Royalists who were going to hang him and the Roundheads retook the village and saved him?"

"So the poor fellow got caught by one side or the other and strung up?" Cloud shook his head sadly.

"Not quite." Said Clarence.

"Who did string him up?"

"The villagers."

"The villagers? Which side were they on?"

"Actually they were neutral."

"I'm not sure I get you, Clarence."

"According to Rutherford the Roundheads took the village and were about to hang the fellow for treason, quite a crowd of villagers had gathered to watch when there was a surprise attack outside the village of Royalist troops and the Roundheads decided to forget it, the villagers decided they'd finish it for them."

"That seems rough, why did they do that?"

"It seems the fellow had destroyed half the village?"

"That ain't surprising in the middle of a war." Said Cloud.

"This happened before the combatants came anywhere near the place."

"Scurrilous nonsense." Muttered Haddington.

"How did he manage that?" Asked Lee.

"It's a bit of a mystery no one has ever quite settled." Said Clarence with a straight face.

"So he was hung by his own village people?" Said Cloud shaking his head.

"Not quite."

"What happened?"

"When they put him on his horse under the tree, they neglected to take away his sword and his musket."

"You mean he fought his way free?"

"Not exactly, when they grabbed the rope and lifted him from the saddle and he dangled above them, the sword and the musket fell from his belt on their heads along with his boots and his trousers. They dropped him back into the saddle and he rode away as quickly as he could." Clarence took a sip of his drink. "They called this place 'The Hanging Lord' to commemorate the event and as a reminder to the Lord if ever he should return to the village, needless to say, he never did."

"Rubbish."

"This is according to Augustus Rutherford."

"There are many who dispute his conclusions." Said Haddington.

"Who disputes them?" Asked Clarence.

"Many people."

"What people?"

"Hundreds of people."

"Who, for instance?"

"Me, for instance."

"Oh," Clarence took another sip of his drink, "you do have a point there."

"A damn fine point if you ask me." Haddington thumped the wall with a closed fist. "You'll back me up, won't you, Shingle?"

"Hmm...." He tugged at his ear lobe. "I'm sorry, Your Lordship, I don't read much."

"Nonsense." He thumped the wall again, then with a frown looked around the room, "by the way, Shingle, where are all the villagers?"

"Hmmm...." He was at his ear lobe again.

"I expect they're at church." Said Clarence helpfully.

"Yes, Mr Clarence, that's where they are, at church."

"Why?"

"Hmm.... they.....hmm..."

"Probably because it's the day the church celebrates the patron saint of barrows." Said Clarence.

"That's it, Mr Clarence, patron saint of barrows."

"Probably getting their barrows blessed."

"They are, Mr Clarence, all of 'em."

"That's what you said, Clarence, wasn't it? How did you know?" Asked Haddington.

"I like to keep up on these things."

"Why didn't you tell me before we came into the place?"

"I thought Cloud and Lee would like to see the place, you have far more important things on your mind then to be bothering about minor things like this."

"I suppose I'll have to go up to see them." Sighed Haddington.

"No..." Stuttered Shingle. "I really wouldn't bother, Your Lordship."

"Nonsense, imagine how disappointed they'd be if they heard I'd paid a visit to the village and they had missed seeing me, their children would cry themselves to sleep at night. I'll not have that on my conscience, I would not be able to live with myself."

"I wouldn't go up there, Your Lordship." Said an alarmed Shingle.

"Why not?"

"Hmmm.....because....because....."

"Because of the vicar." Said Clarence.

"The vicar? Will he be there?"

"That's right, the vicar." Smiled Shingle.

"Yes, I imagine the vicar will be there, he's promised to tell the life story of the saint." Smiled Clarence.

"What, the whole life story?"

"From depraved childhood to gory end."

"If the vicar could make it sound as interesting as that I'd go to hear it." Said Haddington.

"Last year he spoke for an hour, didn't he Shingle?"

"More, Mr Clarence, an hour and a half."

"An hour?" Haddington twisted his face in displeasure, "you'd think he'd have been drowned out by the snores."

"I'm rather looking forward to it." Said Clarence draining his glass.

"You'll be going alone."

"But the children, Your Lordship?" Asked Clarence with an innocent face.

"Hang the children," he thumped the wall, "I have no intention of becoming patron saint of the insane. Come along, gentlemen, we'll return to the house." He got to his feet followed by Lee and Cloud, when they reached the door he turned around, "where's Clarence?" They looked back to see Clarence thrown to one side of his chair, his head on his chest. "Disgusting." Dickie's tugging and Haddington's thumping had put the gas bracket above Clarence's head close to falling, which it finally did.

As Lee and Cloud came back to help him to his feet there was no evidence of it.

"I'm sorry, Your Lordship," he was rubbing his head he had no idea what had hit him, "that drink must have gone to my head."

"It's a disgusting sight, a man who cannot hold his drink." Said Haddington haughtily as he strode out the front door.

They followed him the length of the deserted, silent street, past closed shops and empty houses and into the side street, up ahead they could see the carriage waiting.

"My watch." Said Cloud suddenly as he patted his pockets, "I must have left it back at the inn."

"I'll get it, Smoke." Lee strode back down the street.

"No, wait." Called Clarence as he ran after him. "I'll get it."

'It's no trouble."

"I'll get it."

They reached the corner and stood in the main street Lee's eyebrows shot up in surprise. The street was packed with people and stalls and barrows. He looked at Clarence who put a finger to his lips.

"I've got it, Two-Refs, I put it in the wrong pocket." Called Cloud.

"I hope you won't tell his Lordship, it would hurt his feelings." Said Clarence.

"You know, Mr Clarence, there's a lot of the boxer in you." They went back to join Cloud and Haddington.

Dickie decided to return to the house for a change of clothes, and perhaps to empty that bottle of beer in his bag before it went flat, and that piece of cake put there by his wife, and the bag of biscuits. By the time he'd reached the corner, his lips were raised in a smile and his steps were jaunty with expectation.

He came upon a barrow piled high with fresh fish, a testy old man sat on one of the handles fanning himself and mopping his brow.

"Are they fresh, mate?" Asked Dickie as he walked over to finger a couple of them, he thought they would go well for dinner.

"'course they're bleedin' fresh, some of 'em ain't even sure if they're dead."

"Well, they'd be slow then." Dickie wasn't too keen on some of them, he glanced over at the sweating man, "I didn't think it was that hot."

"Bleedin' Lord Clumsy."

"Ah, say no more, brother."

"Runnin' up and down the street like lunatics we were, bleedin' Lords, can't see why we bother."

"Take my word for it, mate, it's worth it." Said Dickie.

"Is it?" Dickie nodded. "You met him?"

"Two encounters, two scars."

"Go on."

"It's true, the man is vicious, springs out at you, tears the sleeve from your coat....."

"Gawd blimey."

"Nearly had me arm the last time."

"I hope he keeps away from me." Said the old man. Dickie put his finger to his mouth and held it in the air. "What're you doin'?"

"Testing."

"For what?"

"For him." The old man looked at him in wonder.

"Is he around here?"

"Who?"

"Lord Clumsy."

"You said these fish were fresh?"

"Couldn't be fresher."

"Oh, well, I'll just pass them over for the time being, good day to you, sir."

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing at all"

"Well, is Lord Clumsy near here, or ain't he?"

"I don't know, you see, my finger needs fish for nourishment, if I were to have a couple of fish under me arm, it might be working again."

"Oh." He tapped his head with his finger. "I ain't daft."

"Oh, yes?"

"You're going home for your dinner, then you'll come back and let me know?" He smiled to show a row of uneven teeth.

"I was only trying to spare you bad news."

"What bad news?"

"You don't really want to know." He was walking away.

"Hey, mate?"

"What?"

"Come here." Dickie came walking back. "Do you think your finger would like this?" He held up a soggy specimen.

"Even my toe wouldn't like that, what is it anyway, a rag?"

"Quite a joker, eh?"

"You called me back, mate."

"You tell me the news and I'll let you have the pick of me barrow."

"Not much of a pick. No, I think I'll......."

"Look at 'em, these are good fish, the best of their kind."

"I don't know, its bribery ain't it, my finger does have its standards you know."

"Bribery? That's daft, this is a present, ain't it, a present from one gent to another."

"Well....."

"Go on, be a sport."

"Alright, I'll take your present." Dickie picked two fish off the barrow and stood with them under his arms. "I'll be off, then."

"Hey, what about your finger?"

"It's in the best of health, kind of you to ask."

"Cheat! Thief!"

"Shh." Dickie came back.

"Taking advantage of a poor old man."

"What poor old man?" Dickie looked about him.

"That finger is a fake."

"Hey, hey, it's never been wrong in its life."

"You said you'd tell me the news. Is Lord Clumsy near here?"

"No."

"That ain't bad news."

"The bad news is that he will be near here."

"When?"

"My finger can tell where he is, it can't tell the future." Dickie was just about to walk away, "so you ain't daft, eh?" He muttered under his breath, when a carriage clattered up.

"Hold, Rogers!" Came the voice of Haddington and the carriage pulled up.

"Give me back my fish." Demanded the old man.

"You gave them to me as a present."

"Come along, lads, the fish in this area are noted for their flavour." Said Haddington as he stepped out of the carriage followed by Clarence, Lee and Cloud. "You're not in church, my man?" Asked Haddington of the old man.

"Do I look like I'm in church?"

"You're not having your barrow blessed?"

"You better tell your keeper to get you back to your cage mate."

"The locals are also noted for their humour." Said Haddington with a grimace to Lee and Cloud. "Where did you get these fish, from my streams I'll wager, probably a poacher."

"I caught these, mate, I ain't no bleedin' poacher."

"Mind your language, sir." Said Clarence.

"It's alright for him to call me a poacher then?"

"Do you know who you're speaking to?"

"I don't care if he's the Prince of Wales."

"This is Lord Haddington."

"Blimey, it's himself, Lord bleedin' Clumsy, I ain't seein' so good lately." The old man flushed, "hey, mate," he called to Dickie, "you want to give that finger away, it's gone off."

"Like your fish." Replied Dickie.

"Cheat! Cheat!"

"The finger said he'd be back." Said Dickie innocently.

"What is the fellow babbling about?" Asked Haddington.

"I'll just be off, "Dickie gave a little bow, "good morning, gentlemen."

"No, you don't mate." He was around the barrow in an instant struggling with Dickie.

"Me presents, you gave them to me."

"Clarence, for God's sake separate them before they kill each other." Ordered Haddington.

"Very well, Your Lordship." He was just passing Haddington, who was leaning on the barrow when it threatened to topple over, Haddington slipped forward and put his foot out, in time to trip Clarence who fell to the ground.

The old man stepped back and fell over Clarence, Haddington straightened up and slipped again on the handle of the barrow, it fell dangerously to one side, hung in the air for a second, and then fell over, knocking Dickie to the ground and covering the three men with a great pile of fish.

Lee and Cloud came to their assistance and dragged the old man, Dickie and Clarence free.

"Spoilt, you spoilt the lot of 'em," the old man was beside himself, "me barrow, you wrecked me barrow."

"That'll teach you not to have it blessed." Said Haddington haughtily.

"It's not that bad." Said Cloud who was brushing the fish off as he put them back on the barrow that had been straightened by Lee.

"Who'd eat spoilt fish, eh, who?"

"Clarence, pay the fellow, stop his whimpering."

"Very well, Your Lordship." A dazed Clarence came to an amicable agreement with the old man.

"What about me?" Asked Dickie, "you've ruined me clothes."

"Are you a member of some new Eastern religion sir, that demands you wear one sleeve?" Demanded Haddington.

"It's that damn beggar." Said Clarence, "and drunk as well." He said as he caught a whiff of him.

"He's a cheat as well." Said the old man as he reached down to pick up a rock and throw it in the direction of Dickie, who quietly took to his heels.

Haddington laughed so much he had to lean against the barrow and upset it again, so that it went over to empty it's load. Dickie stopped halfway up the street and took two fish out of his coat pockets and did a little jig of triumph, this had Lee and Cloud laughing, finally holding his sides Cloud asked.

"Where's Clarence?"

There was a relaxed enjoyable lunch with Sir Rupert and Cloud keeping everybody entertained. Clarence wandered off to tidy up some business with Haddington. Sir Rupert fell asleep in the corner, Lee was amused to hear that even his snoring sounded repetitious.

Lady Marlebone steered the 'young people', Cynthia and Winterhaiming, out into the garden where they could be alone.

"Talking about one's self can be so tiresome." He said as he walked out into the trees with the young woman on his arm. For the next two hours he told her his life story, Cynthia had a good idea why the word 'tiresome' kept creeping to his lips.

Lady Marlebone joined Cloud and Lee to sit on garden chairs at the back of the house where she could keep her watchful eye on the young ones and still have a lively conversation with Cloud, uncouth but likeable was her opinion of him. Lee slept with his hat pulled low over his face, and his long legs stretched out before him with his ankles crossed.

When she had first sat down with Cloud, Lady Marlebone had been pleasantly self-satisfied, absolutely certain all was going well, she was even mentally tallying up the invitation list for the wedding. Now it was different.

When Cloud got up to excuse himself, he was actually going to look for Gilmore to see about liquid refreshment, it was an agitated Lady Marlebone he left behind. A shocked Lady Marlebone. It just couldn't be so, she decided firmly as she glanced over at the sleeping form, it was a cool day, but she was fanning herself frantically as her mind raced. She faced quite a dilemma.

She could not believe this brash, bumptious American could possibly be related to one of the finest, most distinguished families in the empire.

It was obvious who young Winterhaiming was, he walked like the grandson of a Lord, he held himself erect with the carriage of the gentry. He spoke with the timbre and authority of the gentry. Dear God, he even looked like his Lordship. If it were not so why had his Lordship invited him here for the weekend?

Lee snorted in his sleep and she looked over at him. A common pugilist, with the best blood of England flowing through his veins. Utterly impossible, it was utterly impossible, Cloud was a demented fool, of course he was.

Lady Marlebone made a snap decision there and then. There was no doubt in her mind as she got up still fanning herself, she hesitated to glance down at Lee, just the same, she thought, just the same.

"I do not wish to discuss it further, Clarence." Said Haddington with determination as he sat behind his desk.

"Your Lordship will have to face it eventually."

"Not today, not here and now."

"This is a foolish attitude."

"That's for me to decide."

"You can't keep these fellows hanging around indefinitely."

"Why not? It's my house they can stay as long as they may wish to, or as long as I want them to."

"Winterhaimng must return to London on Monday."

"There's nothing stopping him."

"You can't do it."

"Can't do what, Clarence, what on earth are you talking about?"

"You're considering Lee to be your long lost grandson."

"Nonsense."

"Then why keep him here?"

"The fellow amuses me, so does his manager, is it a crime that I should be amused? Heaven knows I need it."

"There's nothing wrong with amusement...."

"That is a relief." Snapped Haddington.

"But if you go further than amusement you'll be making the most monumental error. You must not let sentiment blind you, Your Lordship."

"Do stop fussing like an old woman, Clarence, it has nothing to do with sentiment."

"Winterhaiming has put forward the best proof that I've ever seen."

"He put forward no more than Two-Refs."

"Some cheap locket and a piece of hair?"

"Mr Tiresome only had a locket."

"There is a certain similarity of appearance."

"Bah."

"Also a similarity in characteristics between yourself and the young man has not escaped me." Clarence rubbed the top of his head.

"I've never fallen asleep with my eyes open in my life."

"That was not what I was referring to."

"You babble, man, do you realise that?"

"Your Lordship, since Lee and Cloud appeared we have not been able to have one serious discussion on this matter."

"I would hardly call nonsensical babbling a serious discussion."

"Are you aware that, if you let them, these two gentlemen will steal everything you own?"

"I might say the same of young Winterhaiming."

"You know that's not so."

"I do not wish to discuss it any further, Clarence, at least not until you can speak without babbling."

"Your Lordship," said Clarence angrily as he stormed toward the door, "you are becoming a doddering old fool." He slammed the door as he left.

Haddington poured himself a drink, took up his cigar from the ashtray to walk over and stand under the portrait of his daughter.

"I know."

"Dear Mr Clarence." Lady Marlebone met a silently fuming Clarence in the hallway. "I've just heard the most amazing story."

'What story would that be?"

"Mr Cloud thinks that Mr Lee is Lord Haddington's grandson, of course I didn't seriously entertain the thought for one second."

"The world is riddled with demented people with all kinds of delusions."

"Exactly what I thought myself."

"Do pardon me, madam, I am quite busy."

"It is just an illusion, I mean, this Lee fellow is just not English, is he?"

"Please pardon me." He brushed past her quickly.

"I'm sure his Lordship feels the same." She stopped and waited for Clarence to reply. "Mr Clarence, does his Lordship feel the same?"

Clarence stopped and looked back. "That, madam, is something his Lordship will have to answer for himself." He spun on his heels and strode off.

"How strange, how very strange." She thought to herself, then as the words sank in she felt rising panic. "Oh, dear me, dear me, I must get my poor daughter away from that worthless scamp." She was racing down the hall when she stopped herself and stood tapping her chin with her fan. She would have to be very careful, she would have to take each step after due consideration. "Oh, dear, what would Sir Joseph do?" She thought glumly, "what would Sir Joseph do?" If she only knew so that she could do the opposite and know she'd be right.

"But, mother......"

"Why are you so argumentative, why has God cursed me with such an argumentative daughter?"

"I'm not arguing, I'm doing exactly what you told me to do."

"Do you want to break your poor father's heart? Have we treated you so shabbily that you want to wreak a cruel vengeance on your aged parents?" Lady Marlebone was dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief.

"Mother..... " She began, her voice tinged with exasperation.

"You won't be satisfied will you, not until you've seen your dear father in the poorhouse."

"Mother, what is it you want me to do?"

"You wilful, wilful girl."

"Yes, mother."

"Ignoring poor Mr Lee, wasting all your time with that scoundrel."

"The American? Mother, are you serious?"

"Why has God cursed me with such a wilful, selfish daughter?"

"Alright, alright," the young woman got to her feet and straightened her dress, "it hasn't been easy, mother, but I think I understand what you're trying to say. I'm to divert my attention to Mr Lee." She went to the door.

"Cynthia." Said her mother, she stood at the open door. "Not..... all of your attention." Cynthia nodded and walked from the room. "Whatever will become of her when I'm gone?" Sighed Lady Marlebone and dabbed her eyes.

It made no difference to Cynthia, she found both men repellent, she smiled to herself as she thought of the struggle her mother must have undergone to even consider the American.

"It's a very dangerous sign, when a pretty, young woman smiles so delightfully to herself, some handsome young man is obviously in danger of losing his bachelor freedom."

She looked up to see Lord Haddington.

"What makes you think it's a handsome young man, Your Lordship," she curtsied slightly, "perhaps it's a distinguished peer of the realm."

"Capital, my dear, capital," he took her hand and kissed it, "may I offer you my arm?" She took it as he led her down the hall to the large dining room where dinner awaited them. As they strolled along with Haddington merrily chattering away, she looked up with a slight smile at the corners of her lips, she was rather fond of the old gentleman.

Still chatting away he held a chair out for her and after she had taken her place he sat down in the seat beside her. Lee and Cloud came in, in answer to the dinner gong and without thinking Lee sat in the first chair he saw, it happened to be the one beside Cynthia who was listening intently to everything Haddington was saying.

Sir Rupert came in with Lady Marlebone on his arm, he was repeating the same sentence for the sixth time as he held a chair out for her and then took a seat himself. Clarence and Winterhaiming were the last to enter.

Lady Marlebone was beaming with pleasure as she glanced over at her clever daughter who had planned the seating arrangements so beautifully.

"And what do you think, Mr Lee?" Asked Cynthia suddenly turning to look at him.

"Huh?" He came out of a trance, he was quite hungry so his thoughts had been on food. "About what, miss?"

"Lord Haddington was saying that the Queen should not abdicate."

"Well, I don't rightly know...."

"There are misguided people, you know, who are seriously suggesting such a thing." Said Haddington.

"Its poppycock," said Sir Rupert, "it's all poppycock, how can any thinking man say such a thing, poppycock, it's just poppycock."

"Alright, Rupert, it's poppycock." Said Haddington.

"What is?"

"Never mind." Said Haddington impatiently.

"She's not a young woman." Said Clarence.

"Nonsense, Her Majesty makes up for her lack of youth with her wonderful constitution, her health is perfect and she is in complete control of her faculties." Said Haddington.

"In America we don't have that problem." Said Cloud.

"You have a different President, don't you, what is it, every six months?" Said a bored Winterhaiming.

"Good Lord, Winterhaiming," said Haddington, "I thought you'd spent your youth in America, you seem abysmally ignorant of its system."

"Only my first few years, Your Lordship, I've spent most of my life here in England, I had my education in England, thank God. I do go back there occasionally to see Mama and Papa, my adopted parents, of course."

"Didn't you have any experience of the American form of Government?"Asked Haddington in surprise.

"Politics is such a tiresome subject, Papa is a Republican and has tried to interest me in joining them, but I do think a gentleman should never soil his hands in such a dirty business."

"Our Prime Minister will find those sentiments interesting." Said Clarence.

"Naturally, I was referring to American politics."

"Old Tiresome is quite right," said Cloud, "back home you gotta be tough, it's a rough and tumble business."

"Your President is a Democrat isn't he?" Asked Clarence.

"Ah.....yeah, I think he is, ain't he Two-Refs?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"He's a Republican." Said Winterhaiming smugly.

"You mean he changed his politics?" Asked an alarmed Cloud.

"No, Mr Cloud, he did not change his politics."

"Mr Cloud is such a wit." Smiled Cynthia to Lee, who returned the smile.

Winterhaiming caught the smile, being human, he was subject to the perverse nature of the human. He had found the attentions of the young woman tiresome, obvious and painfully embarrassing, now that her attention was focused elsewhere he felt a slight feeling that he realised to his amazement was jealousy.

"How tiresome," he mumbled, "how very tiresome."

Lady Marlebone could not smile any wider if she had wanted to. Her quick eye had caught Cynthia and Lee and also Winterhaiming's reaction. It was perfect, absolutely perfect. Her brilliant daughter could not put a foot wrong.

After dinner, the gentlemen had cigars and some wine, during which Cloud filled his usual role of entertainer, then they joined the ladies and all settled down for a steady night of bridge.

To Clarence's surprise Haddington joined in as a partner with Cynthia and kept up a sparkling, smart game. He was up against Lady Marlebone and Lee.

Sir Rupert was in a corner of the room getting boxing lessons from Cloud, while Clarence and Winterhaiming, the latter with a bored expression and his eyes wide open, looked on.

The night passed quickly and it was near midnight when Haddington finally decided it was time to retire.

"You mean like this," Sir Rupert was puffing heavily, he hadn't been getting lessons all night, only for the last fifteen minutes, "like this, Smokey, you say, like this?" He was throwing punches in every direction.

"You got it, boy, that's it, you got it, go on, again, in the breadbasket, that's it."

"How tiresome." Said Winterhaiming shuffling the cards as he partnered Lee. Lady Marlebone had grown weary some time earlier and retired to a comfortable corner chair, with Winterhaiming taking her place.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," said Haddington as he got to his feet. "My obligations force me to retire early."

"Obligations, Clem?" Asked Cloud.

"I have to go to church in the morning."

"That's taking your obligations seriously." Smiled Cloud.

"Naturally, I am extending an invitation for all of you to join me."

"That's real kind of you, Clem, but this poor old body would collapse in shock if I disturbed it on a Sunday morning."

"Nonsense, Smokey, old boy," smiled Sir Rupert still puffing, "our vicar will keep you enthralled every moment with his sermon."

"No, Rupert, it's an enthrallment I'm gonna have to pass up, nice of you to offer, just the same."

"If my guests fail to attend church, they forfeit the right to any food for forty-eight hours." Said Haddington with a straight face.

"Stop arguing, Two-Refs," said Cloud, "we'd be ungentlemanly if we refused our host's kind offer." Lee just nodded silently as he went on with his game.

"Don't concentrate, there's a good chap." Said a bored Winterhaiming.

"I am concentrating, look, I just put these down."

"I'm aware of that, perhaps it's escaped your notice, but the game is finished."

"Oh, who won?"

"We did." Smiled Cynthia looking up at Lord Haddington.

"It's time we old people retired." Said Haddington. "Come along Clarence, inform Lady Marlebone, will you? Come along Rupert."

"Nonsense, Clemmie, once I get my second wind," he sat down heavily, "I fully intend to have another round under Smokey's expert guidance."As soon as he'd said that he dropped his head on his chest and fell asleep.

Haddington woke him up and dragged him off to his room. Clarence helped Lady Marlebone from the chair where she had been sleeping and they too left.

Cloud came over to take up the fourth hand.

As Clarence was coming back from escorting Lady Marlebone to her room he encountered Gilmore carrying a tray with a full bottle of whisky.

"Where are you going with that?"

"It's for his Lordship, sir, he orders it every night, he finds it helps him sleep."

"I'm not surprised it does."

"Yes, sir." Gilmore went on his way and Clarence made his way to his room.

He crept up very quietly, he picked up one of Robert's leafy arms and peeked around the trunk of Angus. A small, black shape was tearing away with scratching sounds.

"Devil." He said softly, but the devil heard him and looked in his direction, so that two yellow eyes glowed in the darkness. "Well may you plead for mercy." Said Garth to the silent shape. "Look at his skin, look what you've done to it?" He raised the branch high over his head to bring it down, but the shape was gone, scurrying off towards another tree.

With a whoop of glee Garth came rushing after it, he smiled when he saw it run to the foot of Albert.

The roots of the tree were thick and quite high, so that the creature had trapped itself. Garth advanced on it slowly with a diabolical smile on his face. The little creature stood with its head held high, its feet planted firmly, staunchly it prepared to meet its enemy.

"You'll not be bothering my lads again, devil," Garth raised his branch, "stop screaming lads," he called to the trees around him, "I'll get this devil once and for all and your poor feet will never have to suffer again. I know, I know you've all suffered by having the flesh torn from your bodies, but not anymore, now just hold your tongues."

He was chuckling cruelly to himself as he came closer and closer, the branch raised over his head. Suddenly there was a crack high above and a branch came toppling down onto Garth.

"What the..." A second branch came down. "You clumsy fool, Albert," a third branch covered him, and he watched the shape fly past him. "You're letting it get away, you damn fool." A fourth branch finally stunned him.

The black shape flew for its life to escape. The lights from the house attracted its attention and with one bound it jumped into an open window.

"Don't you ever," Garth slammed a branch down on the hapless Albert, "ever, interfere with your father when he's trying to protect you," again he slammed the branch down, and again. "You crazy fool."

He threw the branch away and stormed off, he was passing under another tree when he heard a snap above his head.

"Just you dare, Rupert....." He began but was knocked senseless by a daring Rupert.

He had been reading in bed when he thought he heard someone, so he had come out to investigate. Now Clarence stood at the open door to Haddington's room with a frown. There was no sign of Haddington and there was no sign of the bottle of whisky.

He walked to the open window to look out, did he catch sight of someone in the light from one of the lower windows, someone among the trees with an axe?

He sighed and made his way down stairs, Cloud, Lee, Winterhaiming and Cynthia were still playing cards.

"Mr Lee, Mr Cloud. May I speak to you both?" Said Clarence from the door. They exchanged looks, excused themselves and followed him out into the hall.

"I may have need of your assistance, gentlemen."

"Now the last time you said that," said Cloud, "Clem was indisposed."

"I fear he may be indisposed again." Clarence led them to the back of the house and out onto the grass.

"I see him." Said Lee and ran toward the trees, he grabbed a shape and began to drag it back to the waiting Cloud and Clarence.

Winterhaiming and Cynthia joined them and they all stood in silence watching Lee with his struggling prisoner drawing nearer.

"I say, am I missing something?" Came the calm voice of Lord Haddington from behind them, they all turned to see him standing there calmly smoking a pipe.

Clarence and Cloud turned to look back in surprise to see Lee just coming into the light struggling with Garth.

"You can let him go, Mr Lee." Ordered Clarence. Lee did so, then came walking up to Haddington.

"You're alright?" He asked.

"Of course, why shouldn't I be?"

Garth struck out blindly in the darkness with his branch and took to his heels.

"Mr Clarence thought you might....might...."

"I might what?"

"Nothing."

"Come inside, it's quite cold." Ordered Haddington as he stepped aside to let them precede him. "I simply felt like a quiet pipe and Clarence turns the house upside down. By the way," said Haddington with a frown. "Where is Clarence?"

He awoke with the sun streaming through the window and stretched luxuriously until his foot came into contact with something on the end of the bed. He sat up with a start.

"What the....?" A small black bundle of fur lay sleeping and snoring. An eye opened sleepily and watched him without moving its head.

Meanwhile, Clarence was making his way down the stairs, holding a very sore head, with bleary eyes.

"Who in his right mind would get up so early?" Came the voice of Winterhaiming coming down the stairs to join him.

"The Haddingtons have always been pillars of the church, it's a responsibility that goes with the estate." Clarence looked at him levelly.

"I have no argument with that, old man, it's this unearthly hour I find difficult to tolerate."

"Yes." Said Clarence glumly still nursing his head as he led the way into the dining room.

The two ladies sat cheerfully drinking tea while Cloud was on his feet demonstrating another boxing tournament as Lee looked on laughing.

The two late-comers helped themselves from the food spread out on the sideboard and then joined the others at the table, Gilmore appeared with a servant carrying a fresh pot of tea.

"Good morning, everybody." Said Haddington as he came sweeping into the room, everyone looked up in greeting, Clarence was just raising a fork to his mouth and stopped in mid-air. "This is our new guest, Miss Blackie." He indicated the cat nestled in his arms, wide yellow eyes looked at them calmly, a small black head turned to look at another servant carrying a plate of sausages. Miss Blackie wasn't all black, her chin, throat and underside were a clean white.

"She's beautiful," smiled Cynthia as she got to her feet and wiped her mouth with a serviette to run over with her hands held out, "may I carry her, Your Lordship?"

"That is up to Miss Blackie." Without a moment's hesitation she jumped into Cynthia's arms. "Women are such fickle creatures." He sighed as he went to his seat.

"Where did you get her from?" Asked Cynthia.

"Oh, she's not mine; apparently she's taken it into her head that she'd like to spend a few days here." Gilmore came in. "Oh, Gilmore, a bowl of milk and a sausage for our guest."

"Yes, Your Lordship." Said an impassive Gilmore with a quick glance in Miss Blackie's direction.

With a bound she jumped from Cynthia's arms and leapt into a seat next to old Haddington who smiled with pleasure and reached across to pat her. She purred softly.

Gilmore came in with a bowl of milk and a sausage cut up on a plate.

"Here kitty, here kitty." He put them on the floor and Miss Blackie jumped down and after sticking her backside in the air to stretch her front legs out to their limit, she sidled over to the milk but turned her nose up at the sausage. With a white little mouth from the milk she returned to her seat.

"I think you'll find our vicar very interesting." Said Haddington to Cloud. "A bit long winded, one of the fire and brimstone type, but an excellent fellow provided he keeps off the subject of religion."

"He's ex-navy." Said Clarence.

"That's right, he was in the Royal Navy."

"It sounds very tiresome."

"How do you keep a vicar from talking about religion?" Asked Lee.

"With this particular vicar it's very easy," smiled Haddington, "he has one over-riding passion, I'm sure he won't mind me putting it that way."

"What passion is that?" Asked Cloud.

"Boxing."

"A boxing vicar."

"He has a rather droll sense of humour," said Haddington, "I once heard him say as he walked away from a funeral 'I either box 'em or box their ears,' which is exactly right." Laughed the old Lord.

"His sermons do tend to be lengthy." Said Clarence.

"Yes, they do, but he never repeats himself."

"..... haven't you got a tongue, eh? Well......."

"Which in many cases is a virtue." Haddington muttered as he took a sip of his tea.

"....come along, my dear fellow, open your mouth, use your tongue, a tongue, do you know what that is, here, look at mine....."

"Gilmore!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Sir Rupert is talking to a suit of armour again."

"I don't believe so, sir, the servants are cleaning up and they took the suits of armour to the back of the house."

"Well, what the devil is he talking to now?"

"They did place some full length paintings there temporarily."

"Paintings of what?"

"Your grandfather, sir."

"Oh, my God." Sighed Haddington. "Please go and assist the paintings, Gilmore, before Sir Rupert has them curling up at his constant repetition."

".......a tongue, sir, we all have one......."

"Yes, sir." Gilmore went on his errand of mercy.

* * * * *

# Chapter 4.

Winterhaiming, Lee, Cloud and Sir Rupert got in one carriage, while the ladies, Clarence and Haddington got into a second carriage.

Haddington was just about to climb in when he glanced over his shoulder and saw little Miss Blackie settling herself down near one of the columns at the front door.

"Gilmore, allow our guest the complete run of the house."

"Yes, sir."

"And see that she's given anything she wants."

"Yes, sir."

Haddington stood for a second with one foot on the step of the carriage as he watched the cat, Miss Blackie was watching the first carriage clattering away when a butterfly flew past her nose and her head swung quickly to watch it's every movement.

It was a pleasant drive through an almost deserted countryside, through a quite village and up to the imposing church, the bells of which were ringing out cheerfully. They all alighted from the carriages and made their way up the stone steps.

He saw them with a start and spoke urgently to an assistant: "That stand there, clear it out of the way, in fact, take it right out of the lobby."

"Why, Bill?"

"Lord ruddy Clumsy's comin'!"

"Lord help us."

"I'll get this chair out of the way."

"Is Sir Repetitious with him?"

The verger took a quick look out the door. "He is, he is."

They cleared every loose object away just in time.

"Good morning, Mr Wilson."

"Good morning, Your Lordship."

"Is the vicar in good voice?"

"He certainly is."

"A good sermon, Wilson, that's what we want, a good sermon, will your vicar give us that, eh?"

"I'm certain he will, Sir Rupert."

"Our pew, Wilson."

"This way, please." Said Wilson leading the way.

"Come along, Two-Refs," said Haddington who was standing beside Clarence, the old man flung out his hand to show the way to Lee, who had been looking at an old painting of the church, without noticing Haddington's sleeve got caught on a mahogany notice board.

"After you, Your Lordship." Said Clarence as Lee and then Haddington, who had forcibly removed his sleeve, went into the main door of the church. The notice board poised precariously on the edge of the two wooden pegs holding it up, and then with a soft sigh of wood, fell forward.

Wilson led them down the aisle past crowded pews on each side.

"Gee, Two-Refs," whispered Cloud pointing to the private pews of the Haddington family with a tiny door on either end, "just like Boston, ain't it?"

"Shh!" Said Wilson.

"Where the devil is Clarence?" Said Haddington as he and Lee stood at the small door held open by Wilson.

"Shh!" Said Wilson.

"What?" Spluttered Haddington.

"I'm sorry, Your Lordship, I was speaking to him." He pointed to Cloud.

"Gee, it really is like Boston."

"Shh!"

"Come along, Two-Refs, Clarence has probably fallen asleep somewhere." Haddington and Lee went back to look for Clarence.

"Shh!"

"I didn't say anything."

"Shh!"

"I say, Wilson," Sir Rupert was squeezing his way out of the pew, "I say, old man."

"Satisfied," said a glum Wilson, "you've started him now."

"Shh!" Parodied Cloud.

"Something amiss here? Well, old man, amiss, is there?"

"No, Sir Rupert, I was simply warning this gentleman about noise...."

"He's right, Smoke, noise, a bad thing, in a church a very bad thing, noise, bad, very....very......"

"Noisy?" Asked Cloud.

"Precisely, precisely."

"I told him that, Sir Rupert, I told him that."

"Quite right, quite right."

"You didn't tell me anything, you didn't tell me anything."

"I did, I did."

"Apart from shh, I heard nothing from you, pal, not a thing."

"That means silence, are you ignorant or what?" Wilson was now raising his voice.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen." Said Haddington coming down the aisle supporting Clarence on one side with Lee on the other.

"Here, Wilson, old man, no need to be surly, no need at all." Said Sir Rupert.

"Shh!"

"What?"

"Gentlemen," Haddington indicated Lee should take the groggy Clarence into the pew. "Gentlemen. Mr Wilson, you should know what noise means in this particular church with this particular vicar."

"Yes, Your Lordship."

"Do you want him to stick his head from around some door and call for silence?"

"Heaven forbid, Your Lordship."

"Yes, I'm sure it would if it could."

"This gentleman here......" He indicated Cloud.

"It's alright, Mr Wilson, he's a stranger, I'll vouch for him."

"Very well, Your Lordship."

"Oh, dear, Clemmie," said a worried Rupert, "he won't will he, he won't call for silence, he won't will he?"

"He won't if you keep quiet."

"All I said was....." Began Cloud.

"Shh!" Ordered a worried Sir Rupert who quickly returned to his pew. Haddington joined him, Cloud stood with his eyebrows raised in surprise, he looked at Wilson standing with the door open and was about to say something.

"Shh!" Said Wilson.

"Sounds just like a snake convention." Muttered Cloud as he took a seat.

"Shh!" Said Wilson as he closed the door, it sprang back open.

"The lock's defective." Said Haddington quickly and reached across to slam it shut. Wilson bowed in thanks and tried to step away, he realised his coat was caught. He tapped Cloud on the shoulder and was about to speak.

"Shh!" Said Cloud who could see what had happened and sat with an innocent face and his eyes to the ceiling.

Wilson stood there desperately trying to free his coat and working at the lock of the door. There was a rush of noise as everyone got to their feet at the entrance of the vicar in his vestments and the service got under way. A barely audible voice came from the slight figure at the altar.

All through the service Cloud was amused to hear the sounds of Wilson as he struggled with his coat and the lock of the door.

Finally the congregation sat down as the vicar made his way to the pulpit to begin his sermon. His eyes were narrow slits with deep crow's feet at each corner and he wore a thick black beard. As he stood firmly at the pulpit, he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and filled his lungs to capacity.

Cloud folded his arms on his chest and closed his eyes. 'Now I can catch up on a little sleep, that is if this joker will be quiet.' He thought as he heard Wilson apparently getting very desperate.

"WOE TO THEY WHO STAND IN THE WAY......!" There was a sudden tearing of material at Cloud's elbow. But he didn't hear it, he was deafened by the glare of sound that came from the vicar. "WOE TO THEY, I SAY!"

Cloud leaned over to Haddington.

"Did you say he was in the navy?"

"That's right."

"As what, a foghorn?"

"THOSE WICKED WHISPERERS AND SLANDERERS," and as he spoke he was looking directly at Cloud, "WHO CONSPIRE AGAINST HIM." Cloud glanced to his left to see no sign of Wilson, just a small piece of material stuck in the door.

"Must have blown him away." He thought.

"HIS MESSAGE IS CLEAR; IT IS A CALL TO EACH MAN TO COMTEMPLATE HIS SOUL IN THE SILENCE OF HIS MIND." Roared the vicar.

'So that's where the expression 'to raise the roof' comes from.' Thought Lee with his ears ringing. With a start of surprise he caught sight of Sir Rupert out of the corner of his eye. His head was on his chest and he was sound asleep.

After the service they all made their way back to the house for a hearty lunch, as usual Cloud kept everyone amused with his stories.

Soon after lunch Haddington apologised to the ladies that he would have to leave them in the capable hands of Sir Rupert.

"How jolly," smiled Sir Rupert, "I will be able to tell dear Lady Marlebone of my operation last year, a wonderful doctor he was, and a marvellous operation, yes, last year that was."

"That will be nice, Sir Rupert." She said with a forced smile.

"Where are you going to, Your Lordship?" Asked Winterhaiming.

"A work of charity, every so often I visit the poor in the area, I distribute a little money and some good cheer."

"How tiresome."

"It's one of the obligations of the estate." Said Haddington.

"The idea is demeaning, Your Lordship, hardly the task of a man in such a high position as yourself."

"I had intended to invite you along, Winterhaiming."

"I'm very grateful to you, Your Lordship, but I must refuse, I have the beginnings of a wretched cold, I should hate to spread it among any poor unfortunates." He put a handkerchief to his nose.

"I really think you should accept the invitation." Suggested Clarence.

"Don't force the fellow, Clarence, I'm sure he knows his own mind." He glanced over at Sir Rupert who was already giving Lady Marlebone the first details of his operation. "Rather a just fate, in a way." He mumbled.

"Winterhaiming....."

"No, no, my dear fellow, the very thought of it is too, too tiresome."

"We'll need a fourth for bridge." Said Sir Rupert.

"Your Lordship," said Cynthia getting to her feet, "I should like to come."

"Cynthia, the very idea." Gasped her shocked mother.

"That's impossible, my dear, believe me." Haddington walked over to put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "We will be meeting the most degenerate, the most depraved of people."

"Oh, Your Lordship." Lady Marlebone threatened to faint but was comforted by Sir Rupert with more gory details of his operation.

"Say." Smiled Cloud, "I hope me and Two-Refs can tag along."

"Absolutely." Said Haddington firmly.

"That's swell, ain't it, Two-Refs?" Lee who was watching Cynthia just nodded.

"Nonetheless, Your Lordship, I still believe I should be permitted to come too." Cynthia was very determined.

"Cynthia, what a perfectly horrid idea." Her mother was going back into shock again, Sir Rupert had repeated his details so much they were beginning to lose their effect.

"No, my dear that's utterly impossible, do you think I could bear to think of these pretty little hands in such surroundings. I must do it because it's my duty."

"A duty nobly carried out." Said Clarence.

"Do be quiet, Clarence, you know how I detest praise."

"Of course, Your Lordship." He bowed slightly.

"I expect you to care for my Miss Blackie, my dear."

"I'm deeply hurt, Your Lordship, that you seem to think me incapable of anything but caring for some cat."

"Not at all," he walked over to the door, "for one thing, my dear, Miss Blackie is certainly not just some cat, for another, I believe your task here will be far more taxing."

She glanced over at Sir Rupert busily telling details of his operation while Lady Marlebone fanned herself vigorously, Sir Rupert would turn to describe how ill he had been to a bored Winterhaiming who said nothing more than, "How tiresome."

"I shall make you a promise, my dear," said Haddington from the door, "one day you shall come on one of these pitiful errands."

"But not today?"

"No, not today. Gilmore, my coat."

"Oh," she stamped one of her feet with anger.

"You sure got some backbone, lady." Said Lee.

"Oh, leave me alone." She stormed across the room to sit beside Winterhaiming.

"Come on, Two-Refs." Cloud grabbed his arm to lead him from the room.

"It was meant as a compliment, Smoke."

"Dames." Said Cloud in explanation.

"That was a mistake, Winterhaiming." Said Clarence.

"I hardly think so, my dear fellow."

"Lord Haddington thinks every man should take his duties seriously, even duties that may lie in the future."

"I find the very idea most tiresome."

"It could be a tiresome idea that Lord Haddington might think important."

"Very well, Clarence, it's a very important idea, but it is tiresome nonetheless."

"Mr Clarence," asked Cynthia, "what on earth are you talking about?"

"I'm sure that poor Mr Clarence has no idea himself what he's talking about."

"Well, we'll see, Mr Winterhaiming." Clarence strode from the room in a disgruntled mood.

".....the cut was in this fashion, you see, the cut, beautifully done, this cut, beautifully done......"

Haddington was stroking a purring Miss Blackie held in the arms of a blank-faced Gilmore.

".....she's to have milk, all the milk she wants, and the softest pillow, I want you to ensure that it's the softest in the house, Gilmore."

"I shall test it myself, Your Lordship."

"Good, good. Come along, Clarence, we've been waiting for you."

"Yes, Your Lordship."

Haddington led the way down the steps to the carriage in which Cloud and Lee were waiting.

"Have you got it with you?" Asked Haddington.

"I have it here, Your Lordship." Clarence patted one of his pockets. The door was closed and the servant stepped back. Haddington leaned out of the window to wave at Miss Blackie, who was watching some birds intently in the opposite direction.

"She's a beautiful little creature." Sighed the old man as he settled back in his seat.

He burped loudly and stood under a tree smiling to himself. It had been a delicious lunch and he patted his stomach. Now, he was off to find a nice quiet place to have a rest. That wife of George's was a wonderful cook but a nag, a horrible nag.

Dickie left the village behind him to climb a small slope, past a few trees and down the other side, there was a narrow road at the foot of the slope and a small, long wall of rocks on the other side. He passed an old cart on the slope, crossed the road and with an effort climbed the wall, he sat down on the other side and took a piece of cake wrapped in his handkerchief from one pocket and a bottle of beer from the other.

He was sound asleep when Haddington's carriage drew up.

"Stop here, Rogers." The carriage halted. "Pardon me for one moment gentlemen." He climbed out with Clarence, and they both went up to the old cart. "Have you got it?"

"Here, Your Lordship." Clarence handed him a false beard and helped him put it on.

"How does it look?"

"Perfect." Clarence looked back up the slope with narrowed eyes.

"What is it?"

"I thought I saw someone up there."

"Where?" Haddington panicked as he jumped back to land on one of Clarence's feet, the solicitor fell to the ground and dislodged a rock holding the cart, it rolled back slowly, picked up speed, to cross the road missing the carriage by inches and went ploughing into the wall. "Do stop getting in people's way, Clarence." Said a worried Haddington as he sped back to his carriage.

"It's a weakness of mine."

"I know that."

Cloud and Lee exchanged glances as a hairy-faced Haddington climbed in to grin at them.

"I do hope you'll pardon the disguise," said Haddington, "but we are on our way to certain diversions that are frowned on by the good folk of the district, and besides which because so many of the poorer folk look up to me, I would not want to be recognised and have their faith in me shattered."

"No." Smiled Cloud uncertainly.

"Do you like my disguise, do you think I'll be recognised?"

"It's quite a good disguise." Lied Lee.

"No-one would recognise you in a thousand years." Lied Cloud.

"Let's be off, Rogers." The carriage clattered off.

He sat calmly on the wall, smoking his pipe watching the constable coming down the road on his bicycle.

"Hello, Bert." He said as he drew up and propped his bike against the wall.

"Constable."

"Your son said you had some trouble."

"Fellow wrecked me cart, tore down some of me wall."

"Do you know who he was?"

"No."

"Well, I'll start checking around, I expect we'll get him."

"No need."

"Why do you say that?"

"Fellow's still here."

"Where?"

Bert got off the wall to point down to the pile of rubble from his wall.

"Under that."

"How do you know?" The constable hopped the wall.

"Been groaning on and off since I sent Tommy off to get you."

"Give us a hand, he might be hurt."

"No, he's not hurt." They began to shift some of the debris.

"How do you know?"

"Been laughing to himself."

"Laughing?"

"Yes, I got a good idea why."

"How do you mean?"

"Found this." He handed a bottle to the policeman who took a whiff at the top.

"I see what you mean."

"Way I see it, he must have thought it would be a lark to have a ride in my cart, came down here, hit my wall, fell out and the lot fell on him."

"He certainly made a mess of your cart, Bert."

"It's been up there for years untouched. Older than me it was."

"Don't worry, we'll make him pay for it. Come along sir." They helped Dickie to his feet, he brushed the dust and dirt off his clothes and turned to go.

"Thanks a lot, fellows."

"Hey!" Snapped the policeman.

"Yes?" Dickie stood with one leg half raised to climb the wall.

"What about an explanation?"

"No, that's alright, no explanation is necessary."

"Hey!"

"Yes, constable what is it?"

"What about payment for the damages."

"You can send it to me." The foot was half raised again.

"Hey!"

"You're not this Rupert Repetitious I keep hearing about are you?"

"Stop acting stupid." Said the constable.

"I don't think he's acting." Said Bert.

"Thank you, sir," he raised his foot again and hesitated. "I think."

"Do you realise the damage you've done here?" Dickie was half over the wall and fell the rest of the way over in surprise.

"I've done?" He said from the ground. "I was sitting here minding my own business and that cart attacked me."

"Just took it into its head, did it, to come rolling down the hill?"

"Of course not, it.....it, Lord Clumsy, that's what it was, I was a victim of Lord Clumsy, the man hates me."

"Lord Clumsy?"

"Never," said Bert, "he never comes down this road."

"Of course he doesn't."

"But he was here today, I can prove it."

"How?" Asked the policeman and Dickie pointed in silence to the wreckage. "You'll have to think of something better than that to tell the magistrate." Dickie was grabbed by the collar.

"Magistrate?"

"You'll need this." Bert handed the bottle to the policeman who put it in his pocket.

"Thanks, Bert." He grabbed his bike with the other hand. "Come along, sir."

"When do I see the magistrate?"

"Tomorrow."

"He'll believe me, this Lord Clumsy character is a menace, you let me at that magistrate."

"It'll have to be a good story."

"Why?"

"The magistrate is a distant relative of his Lordship."

"Lovely."

"Hanging Judge Thomas they call him." Smiled the policeman.

"What are you trying to do," gasped Dickie as he struggled with his collar, "do him out of a job?"

The carriage drew up at the side of the road after quite a long trip.

"This is it chaps." Smiled Haddington as he stepped out while a footman stood holding the door open. Lee, Cloud and Clarence followed him. They stood on a road with the high slope of a mountain on one side and a drop on the other. There was a long row of carriages drawn up ahead of them with footmen and drivers standing about or just having a quiet conversation.

Haddington led them to the edge of the road and Lee stood in awe, a long flight of twisting stone steps led down to the valley floor below, but he could see a large crowd of people milling around and in the centre of this dense crowd, an empty roped-off square ring.

"Lord Haddington?" He asked as they all descended followed by a footman carrying two baskets.

"Yes, my boy?"

"Does this charity work of yours involve boxing?" Asked Lee.

"In a way." He smiled.

"It looks like being an interesting afternoon."

"It looks like being a very interesting afternoon, Two-Refs." Said Cloud.

"I have reason to believe it will be." Said Haddington.

They made their way through the noisy, sweating crowd to an outcrop of rocks already occupied by members of the elite of the district, their station so obvious by their fine clothes.

In all the crush of bodies, Lee could not see one female.

Haddington sat himself on a large rock where he could see over the heads of the crowd. He removed his beard to mop his face with a handkerchief. Clarence, Lee and Cloud took their places around him on other rocks.

The footman took a bottle of Champaign from one basket and took a glass out of the other basket, he poured a glass and handed it to Haddington then he did the same for the other three.

Haddington lifted his beard to take a sip.

"I don't know why Your Lordship bothers with the confounded thing." Said Clarence.

"What if I were recognised? I must set an example to the district, I can't have people saying I lower myself by taking part in such disgraceful goings-on. I hope you understand what I mean by that, Two-Refs, Smokey, old boy?" The two nodded and took a drink.

"People know who you are."

"Nonsense."

"Your Lordship," a flashily dressed character came up to stand in front of Haddington with a toothy smile. Cloud recognised the type immediately.

"Billy, my boy, I hope you've got some good ones for me today."

"Squinty Hannibal and Mountain Joel."

"Dear me," Haddington lifted his beard to scratch his face, "a difficult choice."

"My thinking exactly, Your Lordship."

"Who's the favourite?"

"My leaning is to Old Mountain, his right is still unbeatable."

"Is that the way the crowd is leaning?"

"That's right, Your Lordship."

"Five pounds on him, then."

"Done. How about you, Mr Clarence?"

"No."

"Don't be such a wet blanket." Said Haddington.

"Alright, alright," he said testily, "a pound."

"Quite the big spender is our Mr Clarence," said Billy with a wink.

"I'm certain my two American visitors would be very willing to join in. This is Mr Lee, and Mr Cloud." Said Haddington.

"Yanks, hey, well, your money is as good as anyones." He reached up to shake hands.

"This is Mr Billy Harrow."

"Nice to meet you, chaps." He raised his bowler.

"We've got Mr Harrows back home ain't we, Two-Refs?" Lee nodded. "We place our bets with you, is that right?"

"Exactly."

"You say this Mountain fella is the favourite?"

"You Yanks pick things up fast." He smiled and Haddington chuckled.

"Here," Cloud handed him a banknote, "ten pounds on Squinty, it's alright, Two-Refs, there's two pounds in there for you."

"Look, friend, I hate to see you do your money."

"You let me worry about that, pal."

"Humour them, Billy." Smiled Haddington.

"Seeing as they're friends of yours, Your Lordship, I won't say another word."

"It looks like it's about to start." Said Clarence as Billy melted into the crowd. A small tubby man stepped into the middle of the ring to raise his hands for silence. A gong was sounded and the dense crowd fell into complete silence.

"Gentlemen," a roar of approval went up from the crowd and the gong sounded again, "and distinguished visitors. I won't waste your valuable time and mine by useless prattle," again came a roar of approval, "I'll just bring on the first two lads who have come here today to entertain you with an exhibition of good, clean English manliness." He was drowned out by the crowd and held his hands up. "From Cardiff that giant of muscle and strength, Mr Squinty Hannibal!" A giant strode over from one corner to stand with his gloved hands held to the sky. The crowd roared and cheered. "And from London, our own scientific demonstrator of power and agility, Mr Mountain Joel!" When another giant stepped into the centre of the ring, the crowd went insane.

"I believe you've seen the last of those ten pounds, Smokey." Shouted Haddington.

"We'll see, Clem."

A gong silenced the crowd and the two boxers went to their corners. A gong sounded and the two giants slowly came forward to face each other, they sparred a little until Joel pulled his right back and slammed it into the side of Hannibal's head. The crowd roared as one giant fell to the ground. Joel stepped back to raise his hands above his head and smiled through the many gaps in his mouth.

The second giant was soon back on his feet shaking his head, again they stood facing each other until Hannibal caught Joel under the chin to bodily lift him in the air, he landed on his heels with a glazed look in his eyes, Hannibal floored him with a left to his chin.

Joel soon got to his feet spitting teeth and blood and pushed the referee aside to come rushing across the ring at his prepared opponent. The crowd went wild as the giants traded pounding punch after pounding punch while they stood toe to toe.

It was impossible to hear yourself think as the crowd roared its approval as neither giant gave way under the relentless pounding.

Finally Joel used his left with a devastating result as he sent Hannibal across the ring to bounce off the ropes and fall to the ground. Joel strutted around the ring with his hands held clasped above his head, oblivious to the blood pouring from one corner of his mouth, both his nostrils and his right ear, while the referee counted over his opponent.

Hannibal managed to stagger to his feet and stood swaying, Joel gave an animal snarl and hurled himself across the ring. He landed a punch to the head.

"Again!" Roared Haddington on his feet.

A second punch.

"Go on, lad!" Roared Haddington swinging his arms, one of which came into contact with Clarence who was also on his feet, with a thud he fell to the ground to look up at Haddington with a disgruntled face. Then someone stepped on his hand, but his howl was drowned out by the roar of the crowd as Hannibal suddenly came to life to plough two punches into Joel's stomach.

The giant stood in stunned surprise holding his stomach and Hannibal took the opportunity to land two crushing blows in succession to his face. He was grinning stupidly as he fell to the ground like a felled tree.

The crowd roared its approval until the mountains around them seemed to be moving from the noise.

"He won't be getting up again." Roared Cloud to Haddington.

"You'll see, you'll see." Haddington was jumping up and down on the rock.

Hannibal was leaning drunkenly against the ropes, his face covered in blood, his mouth wide open as his heaving chest pumped air into his lungs.

With a roar from the crowd Joel staggered to his feet, both were squaring up for another pounding session when the gong sounded. The two giants staggered back to their corners.

The footman helped Clarence back to the rock and began to refill the glasses.

"You get far too excited, Clarence." Said Haddington.

"It's something I've got to curb." He replied flatly.

"You certainly have."

"MAYBE NEXT ROUND WE'LL SEE SOME TRUE BOXING." Roared a familiar voice above the murmur of the crowd. "IF ALL THEY DO IS EXCHANGE LITTLE PATS WE'LL BE HERE ALL DAY." He roared.

Lee and Cloud glanced down to their left. They saw a small, beared figure as the crowd around him made a wide circle as they tried to escape the noise.

"Is that?" Asked Lee.

"You wouldn't recognise him in that beard, would you? He must be giving his church a rest."

They were draining their glasses as the gong sounded the end of the minute rest.

"COME ON, BOYS, DON'T SHAME US." Roared the voice.

As the two giants came face to face, did Mountain Joel scowl in the direction of the speaker?

They stood toe to toe and slugged away at each other spattering those roaring spectators too close with blood and sweat, until with a roar of rage Joel swung that vicious right, Lee felt the connection through the ground as far back as he was and Hannibal dropped to the ground.

He was soon on his feet and the two were ploughing into each other once again. They were both up and down, taking it in turns to land pile-drivers, the rounds came and went, the gong sounded over and over to signal them back into combat.

Lee lost all idea of time and all idea of the numbers of the rounds. As the two weary, blood-smeared giants staggered into the centre of the ring he asked Cloud what round it was.

"Fifteen, I think." He said as he imitated a right uppercut in the air.

"No, old boy, it's only eleven." Said Haddington.

"Actually, it's the twenty-third." Said Clarence.

"That's impossible, you must be mistaken, Clarence."

"No, Your Lordship."

"How can you be so certain?"

"A chap holds up a board with a number on it to begin each round."

"I didn't see that." Said Cloud.

"Naturally, you were all too busy filling your glasses to notice."

"Stop being a wet blanket, Clarence, anyway I take no notice of their chalk numbers, I prefer to do my own counting, they're prone to make mistakes."

" _They're prone to make mistakes?"_ Asked Clarence.

"Yes, they are."

"And Your Lordship thinks this is round eleven?"

"Yes."

"Would Your Lordship care to place a wager on that?" Smiled Clarence, Haddington glanced over at him for a second of deep thought, he didn't like that smug smile.

"Learn to curb that avarice, Clarence, there's a good chap, apart from that and your damned clumsiness you're an excellent fellow. No, I shall not do any such thing, I could not live with my conscience were I to take advantage of your foolishness." A gong sounded and the round came to an end.

"How do they take such punishment?" Asked Lee.

"We English, Two-Refs, we English." Smiled Haddington.

"I've heard that Squinty Hannibal is really French."

"Oh, do stop telling lies, Clarence."

"It's true, Your Lordship."

"A foreigner taking that beating and still being on his feet? Impossible?"

"Would Your Lordship care to place a wager on it?"

Haddington looked at him in silence for a second and saw that smug smile again. "I just don't know what's happening to you lately, Clarence," he was shaking his head, "you've become utterly insufferable, you seem determined to empty your pockets of every penny to your name."

"I'm quite willing to be humoured, Your Lordship."

"I'll not do it, Clarence, you'll not drag me to your level, I deplore avarice, it's a wretched thing. I wonder how much I'll win today." He mused half to himself.

"I think you've lost your five pounds, Clem." Smiled Cloud.

"The fights not over yet, old boy."

A gong sounded as a man stood in the centre of the ring holding a board with twenty four chalked on it, he turned in four directions and quickly disappeared.

"There you are, Clarence, you see, you would have lost your money had I been low enough to have taken your bet."

"But..."

"No need to thank me, old chap, just regard it as an object lesson on the pitfalls of unbridled avarice." He turned to Cloud. "As I said, Smokey, that last round was the twenty-third."

"Yeah, Clem, I heard."

The two giants came stumbling toward each other, it was obvious they were both near the end of their strength.

"HIT HIM, BLOCKHEAD, HIT HIM!" Roared that voice.

Hannibal pulled his fist back to land it with a jarring right to Joel's head, a left slammed into his right cheek and he reeled back, the crowd roared as the scent of the kill reached their nostrils.

Both giants took a swing at each other and missed. Joel continued his swing to come into contact with a spectator at the rope. Despite his weariness the punch lifted the poor fellow into the air and sent him back into those around him.

Hannibal spun and came in contact with the ref who fell back heavily on his rump and sat shaking his head.

The giants approached each other drawing on their last ounces of strength. Hannibal sent a right crashing into Joel and stood gasping for air. Joel shook his head and smiled.

He snarled as he pulled his left back and sent it into Hannibal's face, who stood with a glazed look as his arms dangled loosely. Joel pulled his right fist back.

"This is it!" Roared Haddington flailing his arms.

The crowd held its breath as the fist shot forward into Hannibal's face, he stood staring into space surrounded by a deep silence and then fell forward onto the ground.

The crowd roared in triumphant hysteria.

While Joel stood back against the ropes shaking the blood and sweat from his blurred vision, the referee crawled over to the fallen form and began to count.

The crowd joined in and finished with him.

".....eight, nine, ten." There was a roar as hats were thrown into the air and everybody was slapping those next to them on the back and shaking hands.

"That Mountain," shouted Haddington, "that Mountain, he's unbeatable." He was jumping up and down, "where's Clarence?" He asked suddenly.

The footman was helping him to his feet and was brushing the dust from his clothes while Clarence was nursing both his hands, victims of the cheering, jumping crowd.

'He does so get carried away.' Thought Haddington to himself.

"Good afternoon, Your Lordship." Said a small, bearded gentleman as he stood smiling up.

"You must be mistaken, my dear fellow."

"My profoundest apologies, my dear sir, I thought you were someone else."

"Not at all, vicar....I mean...."

"My name is Mr Priest."

"Now that's original." Said Cloud.

"Pardon?"

"Just talking to myself, Mr...Mr....."

"Priest."

"Yeah, Mr Priest."

"Did you back the Mountain, sir?" Asked Mr Priest.

"I did indeed, vicar....Mr....Mr Priest."

"So did I, Your Lordship."

"I'm Mr Lord." Said Haddington.

"Of course, Mr Lord." Mr Priest bowed.

"Good afternoon, vicar." Said Clarence handing him a glass just filled by the footman.

"You're mistaken, sir, I don't know you, I'm Mr Priest."

"How stupid of me, Mr Priest." He bowed as he handed the glass over.

"Very kind of you, thank you, Mr Clarence."

"You're mistaken, sir, I am Mr Lawyer. This is Mr Rain and that is Mr Grant." He indicated Cloud and Lee.

"Gentlemen," he bowed slightly. "So, Mr Rain, you won your wager?"

"No, no," said Clarence, "that is Mr Lord, the gentleman over there is Mr Rain."

"And you are Mr Priest?" Asked the vicar.

"No, sir, you are Mr Priest."

"Then why did you say you were Mr Lord?" He demanded angrily.

"I am Mr Lord, that is Mr Lawyer." Said Haddington.

"Well, who is this chap going around calling himself Mr Priest?"

"You are Mr Priest." Said Clarence.

"And you are Mr Rain?"

"No, no, that is Mr Rain." Clarence pointed to Lee.

"No, I'm Mr Grant, this is Mr Rain." He indicated Cloud.

"Who the devil is Mr Priest?"

"Vicar, you are Mr Priest." Said Haddington.

"And you are Mr Lawyer.?"

"No, vicar, I'm Mr...." Haddington shook his head and looked over at Clarence angrily, "why in the name of God did you start this ridiculous business?" He took off his beard. "Vicar, I am Lord Haddington."

"Lord Haddington!" His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open with surprise. "Dear me, dear me, this is a calamity."

"It's no such thing." Said Clarence.

"And you are not Mr Lawyer?" He asked Clarence.

"Actually, I'm Mr Lord."

"Clarence." Warned Haddington.

"You mean to say this is Mr Clarence, private solicitor to His Lordship, Lord Haddington?"

"It is." Smiled Clarence.

"Oh, dear me, dear me." He stood wringing his hands and frowning in perplexity. A man in torment, a man of the cloth struggling in a deep quandary.

"How much did you win, vicar?" Asked Haddington.

"Quite a tidy sum, Your Lordship," he smiled broadly as he put his thumbs into the arms of his vest, calm and relaxed in his victory, "quite a tidy sum."

"Do you have any idea who the next opponents are?" Asked Haddington.

"Two novices, I believe, very new to the game."

"Why don't you join us, Mr....Mr....."

"Mr Priest." Said Clarence.

"Who is this confounded...." Began the vicar.

"You are Mr Priest." Said Clarence.

"Yes, of course I am." He joined Haddington on the rock, "touchy fellow, isn't he?"

"A drink, vicar?" Haddington signalled the footman.

"I don't mind if I do, thank you, Your Lordship."

"No, no, gentlemen," said Clarence, "you are Mr Priest and you are Mr Lord."

"Clarence....."

"I was merely trying to be helpful, Your Lordship."

"Do try and curb that, Clarence."

"A strange fellow, Your Lordship, a very strange fellow." Haddington put a finger to his temple and turned it in a circle. "Oh, oh, I see." The vicar's eyes widened and his mouth formed an O.

They sat discussing the weather while the crowd moved about talking of the fight and settling bets. Haddington made a small joke and the vicar had a merry laugh, as he was laughing a shadow grew over them blotting out the sun. Haddington turned around and looked up, a spruce Joel stood with his hands on his hips.

"Mountain, old chap, you fought an excellent fight. You earned me some money."

"Yeah, Your Lordship." He scowled.

"You've never failed me yet."

"Yeah." The voice was gruff.

"These two gentlemen are from America, they're in the fight game as well."

"Yeah." He was eyeing the vicar who was sipping his drink daintily.

"This is Mr Cloud and Mr Lee."

"No, no, Your Lordship, Mr Rain and Mr Grant."

"Clarence...."

"Yeah, how are ya?" He was still looking at the vicar as he reached across to crush Cloud's hand. "I heard a laugh."

"Yes, I dare say you did, old chap, quite a happy crowd here today." Said Haddington.

"Every time I come to fight in this valley I hear a loud mouth tellin' me how to fight, last time he reckoned I was blowin' kisses, I been tryin' to find that voice."

"It ain't me." Gasped Cloud still having his hand crushed.

"No, I reckon it ain't, mate, it weren't no Yank voice. A toff's voice it was."

"Have you met Mr Priest?" Asked Clarence helpfully.

"Reckon I ain't." They all waited in silence as the giant leaned down menacingly to the vicar, who apparently had not heard as he sipped his drink. "How do ya do, Mr Priest?"

The vicar turned, smiled and held up a limp hand. "A fine broth of a lad, ya are." He whispered with a soft Irish accent.

"What?" Asked Joel.

"What was that, Mr Priest?" Asked Clarence.

"Clarence....."

"A fine exhibition of pugilism, ya brought a tear to me eye, ya did." The whisper was hoarse.

"What?"

"I'm a proud man, I am, to have shaken the hand of Mr Mountain Joel." He shook the huge hand limply.

"What?" Joel leaned down very perplexed.

"I believe you said you were looking for a voice, Mountain?" Asked Haddington.

"Yeah, that's right."

"I heard one over that way." Said Clarence pointing over to the other side of the crowd.

"Yeah?"

"I'd be off if I were you, before it leaves."

"Yeah." He leaned down to try and hear what the vicar was muttering.

"A fine lad, one of our best."

"Yeah." Joel got down off his rock and made off slowly, all the time looking back over his shoulder with a perplexed frown on his face.

"Surely not Mr Priest," said Clarence, "isn't it Mr Actor?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about." Said the vicar with a miraculously restored voice without the Irish brogue.

The gong sounded and the crowd fell silent.

"Your attention please, gentlemen," called the master of ceremonies in the centre of the ring, "our next two lads are new to our valley, but not to the sport. I present for your entertainment, Mr Silver Gander." A young man came bouncing to the centre of the ring with his hands above his head. The crowd applauded and cheered politely. "And our own Mr Milker Cheek." The crowd went wild with enthusiasm.

"By God, Milker," smiled Haddington, "two novices you said, vicar?"

"I had no idea it was Milker."

"Where the devil is that Billy Harrow?" Asked an irritated Haddington.

"No need to worry, Your Lordship," smiled the vicar standing beside him, Clarence who was sitting on a rock just next to the vicar looked up at him, the vicar opened his mouth. "BILLY HARROW OVER HERE, IF YOU PLEASE!" The voice carried clearly above the crowd.

It startled Haddington who fell sideways knocking the vicar so that he fell to the ground, sweeping the rock on which Clarence sat.

They lay in a bundle on the ground as Cloud and Lee came to their aid.

Suddenly the sun was blotted out.

"Yeah."

"Mountain, old chap." Smiled Haddington as the giant picked him up and put him back on the rock.

"Yeah."

"A fine broth of a boy." Said the vicar in a whisper as the giant picked him up by his shoulders.

Joel looked into his face and took one step forward, right onto Clarence's hand.

"Sorry, mate." Joel dropped the vicar at Clarence's scream and reached down to help him to his feet. The vicar melted into the rocks. "Here, let me rub it for you." He proceeded to rub the flesh from Clarence's hand, or at least that's how it felt to Clarence.

All this time the crowd was going wild.

"Here," said Joel, "where'd that Mr Bishop go?"

"Mr Priest, Mr Priest." Said Clarence from between clenched teeth.

"Yeah."

"That way, pal." Pointed Cloud.

"Yeah, thanks, mate." He bounded off pushing the crowd aside. The two fighters were hammering away in the ring.

"You want old Billy?" Smiled Harrow appearing from nowhere.

"Who's the favourite, Billy?"

"Well, now, Your Lordship, that new lad, Gander, he's not half bad."

"Five pounds on him."

"Mr Clarence?"

"Five pounds." Winched Clarence holding his sore hand.

"Somit wrong with your claw?" Harrow reached across to squeeze it. Clarence danced a merry jig.

"Five pounds for me also, Mr Harrow." Smiled the vicar appearing from nowhere, he looked at Clarence. "What a strange fellow."

"What about the Yanks?" Smiled Harrow.

"Ten pounds on Mr Cheek." Said Cloud.

"You're throwin' your money away, sport."

"That's my business."

"Follow his Lordship here, he ain't ever wrong."

"Just take the bet, pal, we support the local, see?" Said Cloud.

"I don't want to take your money, you're guests."

"You're not gonna burst into tears, are ya, pal?" Demanded Cloud angrily.

"Humour them, Billy." Smiled Haddington.

"Alright, alright, the customer is always right, I always say, but you're throwin' your money away."

"Look, pal, I know the fight game, I grew up in it."

"Ten pounds then." Said Harrow shaking his head.

Suddenly the crowd roared even louder and above the din the ref could be heard counting."....seven....eight....." The crowd joined in, "....nine....ten. You're out, the winner!" The ref held up the hand of Silver Gander. The crowd went insane.

"Blimey, knows the fight game, he says." Snorted Harrow.

The entertainment was over and the crowd dispersed slowly, here and there small groups congregated as Haddington, Clarence and the two Americans said goodbye to the vicar and made their way through the crush of bodies.

They came upon a bearded gentleman in his Sunday best smiling as he was handed money by a core of dispirited losers.

"Good afternoon, constable." Smiled Haddington.

"Good afternoon, Your Lordship." He raised his bowler hat and the beard rose with it. "You must be mistaken, sir." He returned the beard hurriedly to his face.

"Yes, I see I am, I thought you were the local constable."

"Oh, no, sir, I'm Mr....Mr....Jones."

"I see, lovely day." Haddington strolled on with his hands behind his back.

"Yes, it is."

"Thank God for that," said Clarence, "for a minute I thought he was going to say he was Mr Copper."

"For Heaven's sake, Clarence, let's not start that nonsense again."

"No, Your Lordship." He bowed slightly from the waist.

"And keep your voice down, do you want people to recognise me?" He stroked his beard.

"Indeed we do not, Your Lordship."

They joined the throng making its way up the steep steps on the side of the mountain up to the road. Suddenly from somewhere above the mass came a voice clearly.

"ANDERSON MACKAY, IF YOU ARE DOWN THERE, I SHALL MEET YOU ON THE ROAD AND YOU CAN PAY ME THE MONEY YOU OWE ME."

"No need to wonder where Mr Priest is." Panted Clarence beside Haddington, two shapes came shoving past and they were roughly pushed aside.

"Come on, Mountain," called Hannibal, "now we'll get 'im."

"Yeah."

"I do believe, Your Lordship, our next engagement may well be a funeral." Smiled Clarence, Cloud and Lee chuckled as they came behind.

When they reached the road they could see no signs of a struggle as knots of people congregated here and there and carriages were pulling out to go on their way. Clarence searched the ground but was disappointed not to see any bits and pieces of Mr Priest.

Harrow appeared and settled up with Clarence and Haddington and got his money from Cloud. Haddington waved in greeting to some acquaintances and climbed in the carriage followed by the others.

Cloud kept Haddington and Lee laughing all the way back as he told them stories of boxers akin to Mountain and Squinty.

Clarence sat in a deep silence as he watched Cloud intently with a slight frown on his face.

"......I don't know how you stood it, Sir Rupert."Came the voice of Lady Marlebone.

"It certainly wasn't easy, my dear, not by any means was it easy."

"Such a life of adventure, dear me, such a life."

"It was, most assuredly it was."

"I must make it a point," said Haddington to Clarence as they came strolling down the corridor, "to actually sit and listen to that pack of lies my brother calls his life, most people seem to find it very interesting."

"Mind you, I was only fifteen years old at the time, only fifteen, I was quite young, you see."

"Dear me, dear me."

"Oh, yes, only fifteen."

"Just fifteen?"

"Yes, yes, only fifteen, not even sixteen."

"On second thought," said Haddington, "I don't think I could stand it."

The four came into the room to find Sir Rupert and Lady Marlebone playing gin rummy. Cynthia sat in an easy chair reading a book, while across the room on a sofa Winterhaiming sat asleep, beside him lay Miss Blackie with her head on his lap also asleep. Her whiskers gave a twitch as did her front paws then stopped.

Haddington stood at the door with his hands in his pockets.

"Hmmph." He snorted with a little displeasure as he looked at the little cat. "I can't say I care much for her tastes."

"Clemmie," smiled Sir Rupert, "come and join us old chap. We can have a game of bridge."

"Not right now." He sat down with an angry glance over at Winterhaiming.

"Mr Cloud?" Asked Lady Marlebone.

"I'd be delighted." He smiled as he took a seat, Clarence sat down to make a fourth.

"Charity work for the day all done?" Asked Sir Rupert as he sorted the cards.

"Cloud was so taken he even made a donation." Smiled Clarence.

"It was the least I could do."

"I'm sure it will be put to good use, Mr Cloud," said Lady Marlebone, "I have nothing but the highest regard for people who care enough for their fellow man as to make a substantial effort."

"Cloud did that alright." Said Clarence.

Lee strolled over to sit in a chair opposite Cynthia.

"It must be an interesting book."

"It would be if one could be spared unnecessary interruptions so that one could read it." She said icily, Lee had no idea the remark was meant for her mother who had made a nuisance of herself all afternoon.

"Yes." He said calmly. "It's funny seeing a woman reading a book."

"Why is it funny?" She demanded. "Because we're not supposed to be as clever as men?"

"Now, I didn't say that, and I didn't mean it that way at all. Back home a lot of the ladies I know can't read."

"Did you find the charity work interesting, Mr Lee?" Asked Lady Marlebone.

"It was interesting alright, ma'am."

"Just what did it entail, Mr Lee, this charity work?"

"Oh, boxing, ma'am." He was trying to sneak a look at the title of Cynthia's book.

"Boxing?"

"What he means, Lady Marlebone," put in Cloud quickly, "is we visited some old pugs, down on their luck."

"That was appropriate." Said Cynthia.

"'Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,'" read Lee out loud, "gee, Miss Marlebone, you sure go in for the deep stuff."

Miss Blackie suddenly shook her head and got to her feet to open her mouth in a wide yawn. Haddington sat watching her, his chin in his hand, his elbow on the arm-rest of the chair. She caught sight of him and jumped down onto the floor.

Her legs were stretched out in front of her, her rear in the air as she stretched her body, then she walked over to rub herself against his leg and with a purr lay down between his feet.

Haddington sat beaming proudly as he looked down at her, he forgave her everything.

With a sudden snort Winterhaiming came awake and sat up.

"How tiresome." He said sleepily.

"What is tiresome?" Asked Haddington.

"Pardon, Your Lordship?" He yawned with his hand up to his mouth.

"You said something was tiresome." Haddington thought Winterhaiming was jealous that Miss Blackie had decided to remove herself from his presence and sought the presence of the Lord of the house. Haddington was ascribing his own state of mind to Winterhaiming.

"I must have been talking in my sleep."

"Really? Well the difference escapes me."

"Pardon, Your Lordship?"

"Just talking to my cat." Said Haddington as he leaned forward to reach down to pat Miss Blackie who rolled over on to her back to stretch her four little limbs out to their limit.

They occupied their time until Gilmore appeared to announce that dinner was served. Haddington picked up Miss Blackie and went to stand behind Cloud, who had just finished telling a story that had everyone laughing.

"You're quite a character, Smokey, do you know that?" Haddington patted him on the shoulder.

"So my friends tell me, Clem."

It was obvious that Lord Haddington was in a good mood as he stood nursing the cat with a slight smile on his lips. A mood that the two Americans had a lot to do with, a fact not lost on Lady Marlebone.

They finished the game and all rose to their feet to go in for dinner.

"Take Mr Lee's arm, Cynthia." Whispered her mother as she came over ostensibly to search for her fan.

"Mother....."

"Take his arm, my dear." She hissed.

"Yes, mother."

Lee was talking to Cloud when Cynthia got to her feet, replaced the book in the case and came across the room.

"May I have your arm, Mr Lee?" She asked.

"My pleasure, Miss Marlebone."

They strolled from the room behind Lord Haddington and Lady Marlebone.

"How tiresome." Said Winterhaiming while he stifled a yawn as they passed.

As usual, because of Cloud, they had a lively and entertaining meal. To Clarence's surprise Haddington asked Lee and Cloud to extend their visit till the end of the week and with genuine pleasure both accepted his invitation.

Clarence had to use all his persuasion to convince Haddington to extend his invitation to Winterhaiming. Much against his inclination and with very poor grace the old man did so.

Then Clarence had to convince a bored Winterhaiming.

"Oh, I say." Smiled Sir Rupert.

"That means we have more than enough guests, I don't want to overwork the servants." Said Haddington with a dread of what his brother was about to say.

"Oh, I say, Clemmie, I say."

"Well, in Heaven's name what do you say, Rupert?"

"Why don't I stay over, I don't need to leave tomorrow, no, no, there's no need for me to go, I can stay over."

"What a splendid idea, Sir Rupert." Said Lady Marlebone pleased with the suggestion, being unaware of the look on Haddington's face.

"How long would you intend to stay over, Rupert?"Asked Haddington knocking his fork to the ground, Clarence bent down to get it.

"A week, I dare say, yes, a week, certainly wouldn't want to overstay my welcome."

"No, we wouldn't want that." Said Haddington grimly as he unconsciously swept his empty plate from the table.

"That's wonderful, Sir Rupert, simply wonderful."

"It is rather jolly, isn't it, rather jolly."

"It is, it is." Said Lady Marlebone.

"Hey," said Cloud, "where's Clarence, where's Clarence?"

* * * * *

# Chapter 5

"I think you're making a great error, Your Lordship."

"In what way?"

Clarence and Haddington were strolling down the long corridor smoking on cigars, Haddington would stoop down now and then to check there was no dust on any of the tables or frames of the paintings.

"About Cloud and Lee."

"I'm certain I can survive a week of their company. They're a fine pair of fellows.

"You know why they're here." He stated.

"The same thing that brought young Winterhaiming here, I believe."

"They are only interested in your money."

"While Winterhaiming is concerned with my welfare, I suppose?"

"There is a difference, Your Lordship."

"What difference is that, Clarence?"

"Winterhaiming is not a confidence trickster...." Clarence glanced over his shoulder quickly.

"Is something wrong?"

"I thought I heard something. No, it must be my imagination."

"What makes you think Smokey and Two-Refs are confidence tricksters?"

"I regard them as a pair of frauds."

"Being a solicitor, Clarence, you should know about libel."

"I make no bones about it, Your Lordship, I shall repeat it to their faces and I'd welcome them taking me to court."

"You're so dramatic, Clarence."

"I can't help it, Your Lordship, I don't think you have any idea what's taking place here."

"Of course I do, am I a child?"

"Your Lordship....."

"Clarence," Haddington put his hand on Clarence's shoulder, "I know your heart's in the right place, I regard you as a good friend more than just the family solicitor, I know I can depend on you to speak your mind. But, really, old chap, you're causing yourself a great deal of unnecessary worry."

"Then you'll order these two Americans to leave at the end of the week?"

"No, I won't do that, if after a week they choose to leave I'll not stop them, but I want them to stay as long as they themselves wish to."

"Promise me you'll not do anything foolish, Your Lordship, at least until I return from the city?"

"You'll be going back to London then, you'll not stay the week yourself?"

"No, no, I must get back to the city," Clarence rubbed a sore part of his head, "I need the rest."

They came strolling back down the corridor to return to the sitting room, they passed a darkened alcove without noticing a figure slumped unconscious on a seat.

A few seconds later, Lady Marlebone came out of her swoon to violently fan herself. In an instant she was down the corridor and into the sitting room.

Cloud was giving a demonstration of boxing with the help of Lee and a very willing Sir Rupert. Clarence and Haddington stood watching while to one side sat Cynthia smiling at the antics.

Over in one corner sat Winterhaiming on a sofa pouring over one of Haddington's many stamp albums with his spectacles held to his eyes. Miss Blackie sat on a chair beside him watching the antics across the room with a slightly bored expression.

Lady Marlebone glided in silently and grabbed Cynthia's arm as she passed, to drag her to her feet.

"Never leave Mr Winterhaiming on his own, my dear."

"But mother....."

"A woman's place is to bring joy and light into the dismal world of men." She said softly as she steered her daughter over to Winterhaiming.

With a quick glance at Lee, Cynthia scooped up Miss Blackie to take her place and nurse the cat on her lap. Miss Blackie purred softly as Cynthia patted her.

"Stamps are so interesting, don't you think, Mr Winterhaiming?" She asked.

"Actually, I find them rather tiresome," he said absently until he looked up and caught sight of Cynthia smiling at him. "Of course many of them do have a fascinating history."

Lady Marlebone was back across the room and in Cynthia's vacant chair so quietly and quickly no-one had even noticed.

"Like that, Two-Refs, like that." Cloud was saying.

"Go ahead, old chap," laughed Sir Rupert holding his fists up to protect himself, "go ahead, break through my defences, go ahead, old chap."

Lee was about to throw a restrained punch when he glanced over at where he thought Cynthia sat. The smile dropped from his face as he saw her talking to Winterhaiming intently and threw his right harder than he had intended. It came into violent contact with Sir Rupert's left fist.

"I say," said a startled Sir Rupert, "I say, I say."

"Take it easy boy, take it easy." Said Cloud.

But Lee lunged with his left to come into contact with Sir Rupert's right fist.

"He's trying to kill me, he's trying to kill me."

"He chose a very poor way of going about it." Said Haddington calmly.

"Two-Refs, snap out of it, boy." Ordered Cloud.

"Oh, sorry, Sir Rupert." Said Lee absently and reached out to grab his hand to shake it vigorously.

"What sort of monster have you got here, Cloud." Wailed Sir Rupert trying to get his hand free, "a monster, why don't you just tear my hand off and be done with it?"

"Yes, I'll just tear your hand off." Said Lee as if in a trance.

"Help, help, Cloud, in the name of Heaven, speak to the fellow."

Cloud sprang at Lee and wrestled with him to get Sir Rupert's hand from his grasp.

"What a charming pair they make." Said Clarence. Haddington turned to look at what he was talking about and saw Winterhaiming showing Cynthia a stamp in the album, she was leaning over to look intently. "It almost makes me regret I'm no longer young."

"Yes." Said Haddington but he ground his teeth while he wore an expression of distaste on his face.

"What's gotten into you, Two-Refs?" Demanded Cloud.

"The fellow's demented, Cloud," Sir Rupert held his hand up to Cloud, "tried to kill me, tried to kill me."

"I ain't heard of anyone being killed by a handshake." Said Cloud.

Lee was still in a trance-like state as he looked across the room at Cynthia.

"I'm very sorry, Sir Rupert." He said as he reached out to grab the hand for a second time.

"I look like being the first one you will hear of." Wailed Sir Rupert as he tugged his hand free.

Lee walked across the room to stand over Cynthia.

"I say, old chap, you're standing in the light." Said Winterhaiming.

"I was just going for a walk out in the garden, Miss Marlebone, I'd be very honoured if you'd take my arm."

"That's very kind of you, Mr Lee, but Mr Winterhaiming was telling me about some of these stamps."

"It's a swell night."

"Yes, I'm sure it is, but not right now, if you don't mind."

"I won't keep you long."

"When a lady politely tells a gentleman something, a gentleman usually listens." Said Winterhaiming.

"Now look here, pardner," said Lee calmly, "this is between me and the lady, I'd take it as a personal favour if you'd just say nothing."

"You're making a pest of yourself, old chap."

"You put that book to one side and come outside and I'll show you a real pest."

"Certainly, if that's what...." He was about to get to his feet.

"Please stay where you are, Mr Winterhaiming, Mr Lee will come to his senses shortly and will stop being such a bore."

Winterhaiming looked up in silence with the album open on his knees, Lee looked down at him and then across at Cynthia who hadn't taken her eyes off the album as she stroked Miss Blackie.

Lee snorted angrily and stomped from the room.

"Please go on with what you were saying, Mr Winterhaiming." Miss Blackie looked up suddenly, only she had caught the sound of a crack in Cynthia's voice. Winterhaiming chatted on merrily.

"I was wondering what's come over Two-Refs," Cloud said to Sir Rupert who was still rubbing his hand, "now I know."

"What has come over him, old chap, what is it, what, eh?"

"Dames."

"Dames?"

"Dames," he nodded. "Dames."

"I can't make her out." Said Lee, as he lay fully clothed on the bed, he had his hands under his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

"God made 'em like that, Two-Refs." Said Cloud sitting backwards on a chair his chin resting on its back.

"One minute she leads me on, the next minute she acts as if I'm something that's just dropped off a wall."

"She changed her mind, they do that you know."

"Your wife doesn't about you."

"That's true," he said half to himself, "she always hated me."

"Do you suppose she knows why I am here?"

"She could."

"Of course she does," he sat up suddenly, "that character I met in the woods, he told me the whole village knew why I was here." He got to his feet to walk up and down in agitation.

"What character?"

"That's what she's up to; she's after a husband, a rich husband. She'll keep Winterhaiming and me dangling on a string until she knows which one of us is the winner."

"No, Two-Refs, I think you're wrong about the girl," Cloud shook his head, "she's square, I'm sure of it, besides her family's got plenty of dough."

"It doesn't make sense."

"It makes all the sense in the world."

"How do you figure that, Smoke?"

"You're dealing with a woman, they ain't logical, they ain't sensible. She probably can't make up her mind which of you two strapping handsome fellows she wants. The way I see it, the dough doesn't mean a thing to her."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, ain't they got some custom in this country where a bride comes with a dowry, her dowry would probably make Clem's pile look like chicken-feed."

"A dowry?"

"That's right."

"Are you sure?"

"I ain't ever been wrong have I?"

"Yes, but I suppose you're right on this."

"Thanks."

There was a knock at the door. "Come in." Said Lee, and the door opened to admit Gilmore.

"Pardon me, gentlemen, Mr Clarence would like to speak to you, Mr Cloud."

"Okay, where is he?"

"In the back garden, sir."

"Thanks."

"Sir." Gilmore bowed slightly from the waist and left.

"What do you suppose he wants?" Asked Lee.

"I'll soon find out. I'll see you later." Cloud went out and closed the door. Lee walked over to the window and opened it, he leaned on the sill to stare up at a cloudless, starry night. There was another knock at the door.

"Come in." He heard the door open and close as he continued to watch the sky. "Yes?" When the silence remained unbroken he turned to see Winterhaiming standing there.

"May I speak to you Lee, as one gentleman to another?"

"Go right ahead." Lee leaned against the sill and folded his arms on his chest.

Cloud made his way down the stairs and strolled out into the garden, Clarence sat in the darkness smoking a cigar.

"Clarence?" Asked Cloud as he lit a cigarette.

"I wanted to discuss something with you, Cloud, something in private."

"I'm all ears." He sat down in one of the seats.

"I want to come straight to the point."

"I'd appreciate that, Clarence."

"I regard you and your friend Lee as the greatest pair of charlatans I've ever met."

"And there I was thinking you didn't like us."

"What are you talking about?"

"Calling us a pair of champions."

"Charlatans, not champions, you can stop this damned ridiculous pretence of not hearing, Cloud, you heard what I said."

"Let's just say I heard, but I don't see what you mean by it."

"The meaning is crystal clear."

"Not in this darkness, it ain't."

"Perhaps we can come to an agreement, Cloud."

"Agreement, on what, Clarence?"

"A mutual agreement on certain arrangements."

"You've lost me again, Clarence."

"I'm returning to London in the morning, I want you and Lee to accompany me and I want you to promise me that neither you nor Lee will ever come here again."

"Why should we do that?"

"If you do, I promise you that I'll not go to the authorities, I'll allow you both to leave the country and not a word will be said to stop you."

"I must not be very bright, Clarence, because I don't know what you're talking about."

"We have very severe laws here with regard to fraud."

"We got them back home, too."

"Lee is not Lord Haddington's grandson, I know it, you know it and Lee knows it."

"What makes you think he's not?"

"Because young Winterhaiming is his Lordship's grandson."

"You got an opinion, Clarence, and you got a right to it, my opinion is that Two-Refs is Clem's grandson."

"I'm not going to discuss this with you, Cloud," he got to his feet and with one hand in his pocket slowly walked toward the trees. "I have studied your proof and I have studied Winterhaiming's proof, I can tell you I have no doubt as to which is conclusive."

"Yeah," Cloud got to his feet and walked over to join him as he continued on toward the trees, "I studied Two-Refs proof and I studied Winterhaiming's proof and I ain't got no doubt either."

"Do you realise, Cloud, if you're taken to court and lose you'll both end up in prison?"

"I ain't ever run away from a fight in my life."

"You're speaking for yourself, what about Lee? How do you think he'd feel?"

"Two-Refs Lee is the straightest man I've ever come across."

"Straight men do not conspire to commit fraud."

Lee was growing steadily angry, he began to clench and unclench his fists.

"I hope you'll conduct yourself in a gentlemanly manner, Lee, and that you'll take my advice in the spirit in which it's given."

"I suggest, friend, that you turn around and go out that door right now and I'll forget everything you've just said."

"I knew that you would not be able to stop yourself acting the cad that you are."

"You're pushing me too far, friend, I might not be able to restrain myself from pushing that gentlemanly face of yours into all kinds of ungentlemanly shapes."

"I sought only to give you some kindly advice to spare you a degree of unpleasantness."

"I intend to see Miss Marlebone whenever and wherever I want to."

"She'd prefer that you keep a respectful distance at all times, she finds your presence and your attentions most distressing."

"I'll believe that when I hear it from her."

"I certainly won't be called a liar by some uncouth fool." Winterhaiming was angry, a bored anger, but angry just the same. "Prepare to defend yourself, sir." He took up a stance and was about to come forward when he slipped on a rug, he fell into Lee's arms and they both fell backwards, Lee bumped his head on the wall.

Winterhaiming was up in an instant with his fists raised and began to circle the room as Lee got to his feet shaking his head. Lee closed in quickly as Winterhaiming threw a punch, but he got his right arm caught in the corner of the bed-stead, it forced him to spin and his left slammed into Lee's chest.

Lee was thrown back across the room to slam up against a chest of drawers. Winterhaiming was circling again with his fists raised.

"So you're gonna cheat." Said Lee, he picked up a small statue from the chest of drawers and threw it, Winterhaiming ducked and it went flying out the window.

"I have no need to cheat, old boy, now I shall have to give you a good thrashing."

"You go to the city, Clarence, and you get the police." Cloud was puffing calmly on his cigarette as he and Clarence walked to a tree and then continued to go around it, "Two-Refs and I ain't got nothing to hide, I see Two-Refs as Clem's......where's he gone?"

Cloud looked about him for the solicitor, he did a complete turn around but saw no sign of him. "He's losing an argument, so he takes off." Said Cloud to himself, he continued on around the tree to face the house. Suddenly there was a crash and he looked up to the open window above at Lee's room.

He dropped his cigarette and ran back to the house, he didn't see Clarence lying on the grass on the opposite side of the tree, a small statue at his side.

Cloud took two steps at a time as he bounded up the stairs, Lee's door was open with Gilmore standing looking in. Cloud brushed past him to see Cynthia bending over a figure lying on the floor.

It was Lee, Winterhaiming stood in a fighting stance near the open window.

"What'd you do, hit him while his back was turned?" Said Cloud to Winterhaiming angrily, as he leant down beside Cynthia.

"No such thing, old boy."

"Don't give me that, my boy here could take you to pieces with one hand tied behind his back."

"The only thing your boy took to pieces, Cloud, was this room, the cost of which I'm certain Lord Haddington will be demanding, and I can assure you, my dear fellow, your boy did not have one hand tied behind his back."

"You'd better get out of here," said Cloud slapping Lee's face, "when he comes to, he'll be out for blood."

"Get the fellow to his feet, I am well able to defend myself."

"Will he be alright, Mr Cloud?" Asked Cynthia fanning Lee with her fan.

"He's just knocked out, miss. You better leave and take Hercules there with you."

"I don't like to leave him."

"Don't worry, miss, Gilmore and I can fix him. I hate to think what he'll do to Winterhaiming."

"Come along, Mr Winterhaiming, I think you've done enough for one night." Said Cynthia.

"Certainly, my dear," he came over to take her arm, "you will tell the fellow when he awakes," he said to Cloud, "that should he ever desire a rematch, I believe you people call it, I am at his service."

"Sure, sure, now beat it. Take his shoulder, Gilmore."

"Certainly, sir."

"Physical violence is so tiresome."

Cloud looked up with his lips twisted into a snarl that softened as he caught sight of Cynthia glancing back at Lee with a concerned expression before they disappeared from sight.

They passed Haddington who looked back at Winterhaiming with distaste. He stood at the doorway as Lee was helped to his feet, still very groggy and rubbing his chin.

"What's this?" He asked.

"It's alright, Clem, just a little mishap."

"What was the nature of this little mishap?"

"A case of fisticuffs, Your Lordship." Said Gilmore.

"Fisticuffs?" He glanced back over his shoulder, "you don't mean.......dear me, that Miss Marlebone must be more capable than I thought." He smiled.

"I wish it was, Clem."

"No," Haddington was very disappointed as he looked at Lee, "no, Mr Cloud, you're not going to tell me, that pipsqueak Winterhaiming did this?"

"He cheated, he must have crept up on my boy and hit him from behind."

"In the front of the face, sir?" Asked Gilmore.

"Hold your tongue." Snapped Haddington.

"Yes, Your Lordship."

"Tell me it wasn't Winterhaiming." Pleaded the old man.

"He must have cheated....."

"No, he didn't cheat," said Lee massaging his chin, "he beat me fair and square."

"I am most disappointed." Said Haddington falling into a chair with a mask of misery.

"I wish that was all I felt." Said Lee still rubbing his numb chin.

"Just a lucky punch, Two-Refs, next time....." Began Cloud.

"I hope there is no next time."

"Surely, you're not giving up?" Asked Haddington.

"He only beat me in a fight, there's nothing wrong in admitting he's a better fighter."

"The man's a fool." Said Haddington, it was unclear who he was referring to. "He went marching out of here with Miss Marlebone, you're not going to tell me you'll let him get away with that?"

"She seems to prefer his company."

"That's impossible, no-one in their right mind would prefer his company." Said Haddington.

"With his damn tiresome tiresomes." Said Cloud who had finally realised Winterhaiming's name was not 'tiresome' just his attitude.

"Exactly." Agreed Haddington.

"She said she didn't want to see me again."

"Two-Refs," said Cloud, "women say things when they mean the opposite, all the wise men of history will tell you that."

"Who told you she didn't want to see you again?"

"Winterhaiming."

"And you believed him?"

"I don't think he'd lie."

"You're very young, my boy, incredibly young." Haddington was shaking his head.

"If you two have got some idea of matchmaking, let me tell you right now, mind your own business. She's old enough to make up her own mind and so am I."

"I'm very disappointed in you, Two-Refs," Haddington got to his feet and walked to the door, "very disappointed."

"I can't help that."

As Haddington left he signalled to Gilmore who bowed and followed him.

"You know what to bring to my room."

"Yes, Your Lordship."

"A better fighter," mumbled Haddington angrily to himself as he went down the corridor.

"She was here, you know." Said Cloud.

"Who was here?" Lee sat on the bed to lean against the pillows.

"Cynthia." Lee looked at him as if he didn't believe him. "She was very worried about you."

"So she left with Winterhaiming?"

"She took him out to protect him, I said you'd be after blood."

"If I were, he's got nothing to worry about," Lee touched his tender chin carefully, "what a wallop he packed, Smoke, it was like the side of a house falling on me."

"Just a lucky punch, boy."

"It was no lucky punch."

"Did you think over what we discussed last night?" Clarence stood in the early morning sunshine beside Cloud as they watched Lee running down the road.

"I gave it a lot of thought, Clarence."

"And?"

Cloud looked at him in silence for a long second.

"Have a nice trip, Clarence."

"If you want it that way, Cloud, I did give you a chance." Clarence went around to the front of the house just as the servants were placing his bags in the carriage. He said goodbye to Haddington, climbed in and the carriage moved off.

He sat back in the corner of the carriage as it clattered over the cobblestones, it reached the long road into the village and passed Lee as he ran along, he waved to Clarence who just nodded.

It soon reached the village and passed through and drew up at the railway station, the footmen took out his bags and one stood waiting with the door open. He hesitated, then went to the step and stood as if deep in thought.

"I've changed my mind, bring back the bags."

"Yes, sir."

He sat back in the corner in gloomy silence while the bags were replaced in the carriage.

"Rogers."

"Yes, Mr Clarence?"

"Take me to the post office."

"Yes, sir."

He was soon back at the house to be greeted by Gilmore.

"So nice to have you back, sir." He said with a blank face.

"Thank you, Gilmore. Where is his Lordship?"

"At breakfast, sir, with his guests."

"All of them?"

"Yes, sir."

"Take care of the bags, will you?"

"Certainly, sir, shall I inform his Lordship of your return?"

"No." He moved down the corridor briskly, "I'll do that myself later."

"Very well, sir." Gilmore disappeared out the front door to take care of the bags and have a quick discussion with Rogers.

Clarence had almost reached the end of the corridor when Sir Rupert came strolling from a side room down the other end. He caught sight of a fuzzy shape in the distance that he took to be a servant.

"I say," he said as he came walking down toward Clarence, his head was bowed as he searched his pockets.

"Oh, good Lord." Sighed Clarence as he steeled himself for a bout of repetition, but he saw that Sir Rupert still had his head bowed as he approached. Clarence quickly stepped backwards and went behind a curtain drawn behind a suit of armour.

"I say, now where did I put those confounded glasses," he drew level with the suit of armour. "Blast the things. I say," he said to the armour, "are you the fellow whose task it is to clean the boots of guests? Well, speak up, sir, I can't hear you. You do have a tongue? I'm certain you have a tongue, the good God gave everyone a tongue. Do you realise, sir, the misery that would be visited upon the world if everyone refused to use the gifts given to them by God?"

Clarence groaned.

"What was that? Must be a damned foreigner, what is my brother coming to, bringing a damn foreigner into his house?" Sir Rupert said half to himself. "You don't speak English, is that what you're trying to say? You don't speak English, is that it? No need to be ashamed, many people don't speak English, it's not your fault you foreigners are so backward." Sir Rupert was shouting into the side of the suit of armour's head, believing the louder he spoke the more he would be understood.

"Rupert, who on earth are you talking to?" Haddington came strolling down the corridor with his hands in his pockets and a cigar in his mouth.

"Clemmie, I must say you do employ the most unusual type of people as servants, I really think this is carrying eccentricity too far."

"That's not a servant you're shouting at, Rupert, it's a suit of armour."

"Don't be ridiculous, he just spoke to me."

"This suit of armour spoke to you?" Haddington walked up to him.

"This......this coloured foreigner here."

"Coloured foreigner?" Snorted Haddington.

"Do stop it, Clemmie, there are times when I find that perverted sense of humour of yours most......most........"

"Tiresome?"

"Exactly so, now tell this man of yours to answer my questions."

"I can do that easily enough, old man, but if he were to answer your questions it wouldn't be as a result of perverted humour, it would be a damned miracle."

Clarence thought deeply for a second with a faint smile on his lips, but finally shook his head.

"Now, stop it, Clemmie, you know I detest these childish practical jokes of yours, it really is going too far to drag your servants into it."

"It is not a servant, it's a suit of armour."

"I see, a suit of armour that talks?"

"Feel it for yourself." He grabbed Sir Rupert's arm and put his hand onto the armour's shoulder.

"Good God, the fellow is dead."

"Listen," Haddington grabbed the other shoulder to give it a shake, "can you hear the rattle of tin?"

"Why, yes I can."

"Good." Haddington went on up the corridor followed by a frowning Sir Rupert. The suit of armour was holding a small axe, the rough treatment had shaken it loose, now it fell backwards and down, the side of the blade came into contact with the curtain that gave a curious grunt.

"Did you hear something, Clemmie? I heard something, did you? Did you hear something?"

"Just the suit of armour saying 'good morning.'"

"Did it really?" He glanced back over his shoulder.

"Come along, Rupert, you need a drink."

"Was it in a foreign language, Clemmie? If it's a foreign suit of armour it would say good morning in a foreign language, wouldn't you agree, old boy? It would speak in a foreign tongue."

"We both need a drink." Said Haddington as he put a hand to his forehead.

"Yes." Sneered the voice, the face was grim, stern and very disapproving. "You look the type."

"Yes, Your Honour." Smiled Dickie.

"Typical low-type, convinced of the superiority of physical altercations in place of worshipful and peaceful contemplation."

"Thank you, Your Honour, I was...."

"Be quiet, sir!" Snapped the magistrate.

"I am quiet, sir. I'm quiet."

"Can you be silent, sir, is it possible for you to hold your tongue for one moment?"

"Oh, yes, Your Honour, I can be silent, as you see I am being very silent....."

"Or will you resort to your brutish nature by using your fists on me to get yourself out of your difficult position?"

"My fists?" Dickie held up his fists to look at them.

"Put those down this instant!" Dickie did so. "How dare you threaten a servant of the law, constable, I want you to watch this villain diligently, and if he dares to even attempt to raise his hand you are to forcibly restrain him."

Dickie glanced at the constable and put both his hands in his pockets.

"Are you deliberately being insolent?"

"Oh, no, Your Honour, oh, no, no." Dickie shook his head.

"Take your hands out of your pockets."

Dickie did so and put them behind his back.

"Yes, Your Honour, yes." He nodded.

"I'm sure you'll agree, sir, that this is a most foolish question, but are you aware that yesterday was the Sabbath?" Sneered the magistrate coldly.

Dickie thought that over in silence for a few seconds, then scratched the back of his head.

"I'm sorry," said the magistrate, "perhaps the question was a difficult one."

"It's not so much difficult, Your Honour, it's whether Your Honour wants me to answer the first question first or the second question first, or whether I should answer the first question second or the second question second?"

"Constable, do you know what the fellow is talking about?"

"No, sir."

"Recorder, read the reply again will you?" The recorder complied, "it still doesn't make sense."

"No, no, it's not difficult, Your Honour," said Dickie as he leaned forward on the dock, "you see, you asked me two questions and I wasn't sure which one you wanted me to answer."

"I asked you two questions?"

"Yes, Your Honour, you wanted to know if it was a foolish question to ask, that's the first question, and you asked if I was aware yesterday was the Sabbath."

"Yes, that's right, I did, didn't I? That was most foolish of me, wasn't it?" He said coldly.

"Ah, now, you see, you've asked me two more questions. I know how legal questions can be complicated, I want my answers to be absolutely clear."

"Hmmm." The magistrate nodded. "Hmmm."

"Whatever he charges you with, mate," whispered the constable, "I'd plead guilty if I were you."

"Perhaps, sir, if I were to solve this dilemma by putting it in terms that even those possessing the most primitive of mental apparatus can understand?"

"It might be a better idea to keep it simple, Your Honour, we don't want to confuse the recorder, do we?"

"Can you tell me what day yesterday was, sir?" The magistrate smiled icily, even the constable cringed.

"Certainly, Your Honour, it was the fifteenth."

The smile stayed frozen on the magistrate's face, he looked at Dickie and then leaned forward to write on a sheet of paper, he said out loud as he wrote: "The accused persists in acts of blatant and obvious insolence in a transparent attempt to appear stupid." Then he looked up and with glaring eyes and twisted lips prepared himself for further interrogation.

"Looks like you're for the high jump, mate." Whispered the constable.

"Pardon?" Asked Dickie over his shoulder.

"Silence there!" Snapped the magistrate. "I do not want yesterday's date, sir, I want to know what day it was."

"It was the Sabbath, Your Honour, the Sabbath."

"You are capable of telling one day from the next then?"

"Today being Monday, Your Honour, yesterday would have been the Sabbath." The magistrate sat in stony silence for some time watching Dickie grimly. "At least I think yesterday was the Sabbath." He said suddenly as he scratched the back of his head.

"I can put your mind at rest there, sir, yesterday was indeed the Sabbath."

"There you are, I told you." He said to the constable with a pleased grin.

"You are also aware that this is a Christian community of which upholding the sacredness of the Sabbath is one of its most important, indeed one of its most cherished ideals."

"Ah, well, there you are, Your Honour, you're asking me two questions again......"

"Be quiet, sir!" The magistrate shouted as he brought his gavel down with a resounding whack. Everyone in court jumped. "There is a spirit of rebellion abroad in this land, a spirit of aggressive destruction, of man against man, of brother against brother. I place the responsibility for this spirit on simple-minded louts all too eager to use their fists and not their brains."

"Absolutely, Your Honour." Dickie thumped the rail of the dock with his fist.

"Kindly tell me, if you would, sir, what do you mean by absolutely?"

"What you said, Your Honour, about.....about......"

"About simple-minded louts?"

"Absolutely, Your Honour."

"I was, sir, referring to you."

"I ain't no lout, Your Honour, that can't be blamed on me."

"Then why were you fighting?"

"Was I?"

"The constable arrested you yesterday during a fight you apparently started."

"Did I?"

"I'll ask the questions, sir."

"Did the cart tell you I started it?" Dickie asked the constable. 'What am I saying?' He said to himself.

"Cart, sir, what is this nonsense about a cart?"

"The cart attacked me, Your Honour, I was sitting in the sun minding me own business and this Lord Clumsy sets a cart on me and pushes a wall on me."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's God's truth, Your Honour, I am innocent." Dickie held up his hand.

"Constable, there's nothing here about any cart, was the fellow fighting with a cart at well?"

"Stupid old...." Muttered the constable as he stood to attention. "I did state at the beginning, Your Honour, that the accused was intoxicated and in such state he did wreck a cart and a wall."

"Why did you say he was fighting?"

"I didn't say he was fighting, Your Honour."

"Oh, no, Your Honour, I wasn't fighting......"

"Silence! Constable, did you or did you not tell this court, this fellow was apprehended while engaged in a vicious fighting contest?"

"I did not."

"Are you calling me a liar, constable?"

"No, Your Honour, just mistaken."

"I wasn't fighting......."

"You will remain silent, sir, or I shall have you gagged." He turned to the recorder. "Has the constable become senile?"

"Oh, no, Your Honour." Said the recorder as he stood up to have a whispered conversation with the magistrate.

"Stupid old....." The constable looked up at the ceiling.

"Why didn't you tell me I had the wrong papers?" The magistrate whispered loudly to the recorder, "why in God's name did you allow me to go on as long as I did?" He glared angrily at the recorder and picked up his gavel threateningly, the recorder sat down quickly.

"You gave evidence, did you constable?"

"I did, Your Honour."

"In my presence?"

"I believe you were present, Your Honour."

"What was I doing?"

"Reading the Bible, I believe, Your Honour."

"Yes, that was me, I must have missed everything you said."

"Probably, Your Honour."

"Pardon?"

"It would appear so, Your Honour."

"Just to refresh my memory, constable, what was the charge against this fellow?"

"Drunk and disorderly, being a public nuisance and malicious destruction of private property, Your Honour."

"No fighting?"

"No, Your Honour."

"Are you certain, constable?"

"I'm certain, Your Honour."

"Hmm, pity." He glared at Dickie.

"Stupid old....."

"Thank you, constable, that will be all."

"Drunk and disorderly, were we?"

"We were, Your Honour."

"Tell me, accused, do you know what day it was yesterday?"

"It was...the...fif...."

"Yes?"

"The Sabbath, Your Honour."

"We've already established this is a Christian community, haven't we?"

"Yes, Your Honour, we did all that."

"And you desecrated the Sabbath by drinking, didn't you, drinking to excess?"

"Well, yes and no, Your Honour."

"The court would be most grateful, accused, if you would clarify that answer."

"Would they?" Dickie leaned down to speak to the handful of people below him."Well, you see......"

"Accused....."

"There are those....."

"Accused!" The gavel came down with a whack. "You will address your replies to me."

"Sorry, Your Honour."

"Now, if you would kindly explain what you meant by yes and no."

"Well, Your Honour, I did drink to excess, I was overcome by the misery of the world, the terrible suffering of my fellow man...."

"Accused, unless you come to the point quickly I shall add a further victim to that misery."

"The point is, Your Honour, I did not desecrate the Sabbath."

"You drank to excess?"

"I fell temporarily by the wayside."

"Isn't that desecrating the Sabbath?"

"Ah, now here's where we get into a spot of muck, Your Honour..... I mean spot of bother."

"Pray tell, accused, in what way do we get into a spot of bother?"

"You see, I can't desecrate something that ain't there, can I?"

The magistrate leaned forward with a frown. "That reasoning completely escapes me."

"It's the most simple thing in the world, Your Honour, I didn't desecrate the Sabbath."

"I see, I see," the magistrate nodded, "it was your twin brother, was it?"

"Oh, no, Your Honour, it was me alright, only I was drinking too much, but not desecrating the Sabbath."

"You mean you were suffering an excess of drink that you'd taken the day before? I'm sorry, accused, I've heard all these excuses before....."

"No, no Your Honour, you see, to you, yesterday was the Sabbath, but it wasn't the Sabbath to me."

"Constable, examine the accused to see if he's intoxicated."

"You're not listening, you stupid...." Mumbled Dickie.

"What did you say, accused?"

"Your Honour, the Sabbath is a sacred day?"

"It is."

"Yesterday, being Sunday was the Sabbath?"

"Yes."

"Ah, now, you see, to you it's the Sabbath, but it's different with me."

"Are you saying, accused, that you've invented your own week?"

"No, Your Honour, I just don't hold yesterday to be the Sabbath."

"What?"

"Christians like your good self do, but I don't."

"Pray God he doesn't say he's an atheist." Sighed a very worried recorder.

"I'm not a Christian, Your Honour."

The magistrate's eyes glassed over, his teeth were slowly bared as he picked up his Bible. "If you are not a Christian, accused, there is nothing else."

"I'm a Buddhist."

"A Buddhist?"

Dickie joined his hands together and brought the tips of his fingers up under his nose and bowed to the magistrate as he mumbled some mumbo-jumbo.

"I have a nephew who is a Buddhist." Smiled the recorder.

"Oh?" Asked a nervous Dickie.

"I thought Buddhist's renounce all alcohol?"

"Not all Buddhists."

"Accused...."

"My nephew did."

"Recorder......"

"Ah, well, you see, it's the sect, he probably belongs to the South Punjab sect, I belong to the Northern Punjab."

"Accused......"

"Oh, I see, I thought they were all the same."

"Recorder....."

"No, no, we've all got different ways of paying homage to our maker, some believe in eating mud or snakes, you see?"

"That sounds nasty."

"That's why we dropped out."

"Accused....."

"Look, mate," said Dickie to the magistrate, "I'll get to you in a minute."

"Mate.....?"

"What day do you regard as the Sabbath?" Asked the recorder.

"Ah, well......" Dickie thought that over quickly. "Wednesday, yes, Wednesday is our Sabbath."

"It's your big day Wednesday then?"

Whack! The room fell silent.

"I am so sorry to interrupt you gentlemen." Said the magistrate.

"That's alright......" Began the recorder.

"Sit down and remain silent!" The recorder did so. "Now, accused. So you're a Buddhist, are you?"

"Yes, Your Honour."

"A northern Punjab Buddhist?"

"Yes, Your Honour."

"And you hold Wednesday to be the Sabbath, do you?"

"Yes, Your Honour." He repeated the business of joining his hands holding them to his face to bow and mumble.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It's a Buddhist blessing, Your Honour."

"A Buddhist blessing, is it?"

"Yes, Your Honour." He did it again.

"Another blessing, accused?"

"You've been twice blessed, Your Honour you might say."

"I certainly don't want my court to be accused of being religiously intolerant, so I'll let you off lightly this time."

"Thank you, Your Honour," Dickie did his blessing act and turned to leave.

"Just one moment, sir. This court fines you ten shillings for wilful damage to private property."

"Ten bleeding shillings, is that what you call light?"

"You're not satisfied with the amount."

"Quite frankly, Your Honour, no, I'm not."

"Well, I'll amend it just this once."

"How very kind of you." He was doing his blessing act again.

"We'll make it one pound."

"One pound.......!"

"Of course if that amount is not to your liking......."

"Oh, no, Your Honour, that is a most fair amount, the court has been very generous to me."

"Good day, sir." Smiled the magistrate.

"Good day, Your Honour." He did the blessing act.

"A Buddhist." George shook his head as he walked down the road with Dickie and Charlie. "You wouldn't know a Buddhist if you tripped over one."

"They wear beards and mumble a lot of prayers."

"What made you say you were a bleeding Buddhist?" Asked Charlie.

"What could I say, that magistrate hated me."

"Not as much as we do. Do you realise you've just cost us one pound, we haven't even started on the wall yet and we're behind schedule, all because of you."

"It's that Lord Clumsy bloke."

"He was no-where near you."

"Oh, yes, he was, he hates me, he went looking for me and set that cart on me."

"And forced beer down your throat?"

"He must've done that while I was asleep." Said Dickie seriously, he didn't notice a rock and tripped over it.

"I suppose Lord Clumsy put that there?"

"He put it there so I'd trip on it, he hates me." Said a miserable Dickie lying on the ground.

"If he does he's joined a growing list." Said George as he and his brother strolled on to leave Dickie lying in the dust.

They spent most of the day arguing and planning over how the wall should be built, while George's wife looked on with a knowing look.

"No wall, no food." She said sternly with her hands on her hips.'

"Hold your bleeding tongue, woman."

"I intend to, over my dinner."

"George," whined Dickie, "I'll die without food."

"You've only just had a small feed that you had the nerve to call a snack."Said Charlie.

"My death will be on your consciences, and yours, missus."

"I've never had a thing on my conscience in my life...." Said Grace.

'I can well believe that.' Thought Dickie.

"And one less useless lump like you on earth won't give me any bother."

"See, George, she hates me."

"I'm telling you, George, no wall, no dinner."

"Alright, woman, stop repeating yourself."

"That's the last time I'll say it." She went into the house.

"I'll starve." Pouted Dickie.

"I doubt that, lad." George winked at Charlie, "the local pub has the best dinner in the area and they have beer as well." George wore a broad grin as he turned to face Dickie. "But I suppose it's too far for you to walk....where's he gone?" Dickie was running down the road in the direction of the pub. "Hey, Dickie, wait for us."

"George has got the money." Called Charlie, and Dickie came to a halt to wait for them.

Haddington had insisted on taking Lee and Cloud on a tour of the estate so they had set off in an open carriage, Cloud had kept them roaring with laughter most of the way.

Now, in high spirits and a jovial mood they were on their way back to the house for lunch. Haddington saw Marlowe making his way through the trees and he ordered Rogers to halt.

They all sat looking at the naturalist as he came over to the carriage.

"Good afternoon, Marlowe."

"Good afternoon, Your Lordship."

"Gentlemen," Haddington said to Lee and Cloud, "our local scientist....."

"Amateur naturalist, sir."

"Same thing. Mr Marlowe, these two chaps are visitors from America, Mr Cloud and....."

"How do you do?" He reached up to shake hands with Cloud. "I've met Mr Lee, how do you do, sir?"

"Have you? I see." Haddington sat nodding to no-one in particular. "You seemed a bit lost over there, Marlowe."

"As a matter of fact, Your Lordship, I've mislaid my butterfly net, I can't think where I've put the blasted thing, a present from my wife, you know."

"You could always ask Mr Garth's trees." Smiled Cloud.

"I'm sure if they could talk, they would know."

"Well, Marlowe, old man," said Haddington, "we'll keep our eyes and our ears open and if we come across your net we'll send it back to you."

"We'll get Mr Garth to have one of his trees deliver it." Laughed Cloud.

"Thank you," smiled Marlowe as he raised his hat, "nice to have met you, gentlemen."

"Same here." Said Cloud.

"Move on, Rogers. Good afternoon, Marlowe."

"Your Lordship." Marlowe watched them drive away smiling to himself at the sounds of laughter they were making. He took out his pipe and began to fill it. 'Now there's a heartening sound.' He thought to himself.

They were still laughing merrily as they drove up to the house, as they stepped from the carriage Cloud had them roaring once again, Lee caught sight of Cynthia strolling arm in arm with Winterhaiming and his smile slipped a little but Haddington, who hadn't noticed slapped him on the shoulder.

"Well, my boy, what did you think of the estate?" Lee just shook his head as he tried to think of a description.

"Impressive, Clem," said Cloud, "very impressive."

"My dear Mr Cloud," laughed Haddington as he took Cloud's arm and Lee's arm to lead them into the house, "you're becoming more English every day."

"How's that?"

"Understatement, my dear fellow, understatement." He laughed.

"Oh, good," smiled Cynthia, "Lord Haddington is back."

"How tiresome."

After lunch Clarence was sitting out in the garden reading a newspaper. Winterhaiming was walking with Cynthia through the trees a few steps behind Sir Rupert and Lady Marlebone.

"That Clem is sure some character." Said Cloud as he and Lee took a seat near Clarence.

"Yes, yes, he is." Said Clarence still reading his paper.

"I was curious, Clarence, as to what made you decide not to go to London this morning." Said Cloud as he lit a cigarette.

"If you must know, it was Clem, as you so quaintly call him."

"I don't get that, do you, Two-Refs?" Lee was absently watching the group in the distance and just shook his head.

"I believe that Clem should be protected from himself. At the present time I am the only person in this household upon whom I feel total confidence in being capable of doing just that."

"Protect him from what?"

"Let us just say certain unscrupulous elements in the area, I certainly don't wish to appear ungentlemanly by being any blunter that that."

"Unscrupulous elements?"

"Shall we say temporary unscrupulous elements?"

"Yes, let's say that. What unscrupulous elements?" Asked Cloud with a frown.

"Please, Cloud, do not insult my intelligence by pretending to be stupid."

"Who's pretending?" Said Lee as he got to his feet. "Miss Marlebone." He smiled, Cloud and Clarence also got to their feet as Cynthia walked to an empty seat and sat down to fan herself.

"It is terribly warm today."

"Allow me." Lee stepped over to the table to pour a glass of iced lemonade and handed it to her. She nodded her thanks and took a sip.

"I simply had to get away," she said, "Sir Rupert was telling his life story and he has told it once before."

"What, only once?" Smiled Clarence.

"He does have a weakness for repeating himself, doesn't he?" Smiled Lee to Cynthia but she looked at him so coldly that the smile faded.

"A weakness," laughed Cloud, "I'd call it a helpless failing." But he too got a cold look for his troubles. "What did I say?" He asked out of the corner of his mouth.

"I am a little peeved, Mr Clarence."

"Are you, Miss Marlebone, about what?"

"The way His Lordship treats me; he acts as if I were some scatterbrained child lacking all capacity to think for myself."

"I'm sure you're wrong, Miss...." Began Lee with a smile but the look she gave him froze the words on his lips, he looked at Cloud and shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm sure you're mistaken, Miss Marlebone." Said Clarence.

"He didn't even have the decency to ask me if I'd like to have gone on his tour this morning."

"You've seen the estate before, Miss Marllebone."

"The point is, he didn't even ask me."

"Perhaps he mentioned it to Lady Marlebone and she made it known you didn't want to go, after all young Winterhaiming didn't want to go."

"There you are," she said to Cloud, "isn't that just what I've said?"

"Well, yes, ma'am it is....."

"His Lordship should have asked me," she said ignoring Cloud and turning to Clarence, "that would have only been common decency."

"If His Lordship had asked you, would you have gone?"

"Certainly not."

"Perhaps he knew that and decided to accept Lady Marlebone's answer?"

"He should have asked me."

"I'll bring the matter up with His Lordship at the next opportunity."

"It's too late now." She took another sip of her drink. Lee gallantly got to his feet and walked over to the table.

"Allow me to refill your glass, miss?"

"Don't bother, I don't want any more."

"It's no bother, miss."

"If you don't mind, Mr Lee," she said coldly, "I said don't bother."

"It's no bother, miss." He was reaching over with the jug as he spoke, not watching what he was doing he knocked over her glass. She got quickly to her feet to brush away the few drops of liquid that landed on her dress and burst into angry words the vehemence of which surprised everyone including herself.

Lee stepped back with the jug and stood with his mouth half opened with shock.

"Do watch what you're doing you stupid man." She said pointing, Lee looked down to see that he was emptying the jug into Clarence's lap.

Clarence sat with a resigned expression on his face.

"I'm sorry," he said to Clarence, "I'm sorry," he said to Cynthia, "I'm sorry." He repeated lamely.

"Mr Cloud, your arm if you please." She demanded.

"I'd be glad to......" Began Lee.

"I'd prefer Mr Cloud's arm."

"Certainly." Smiled Cloud as he came walking over, he dug Lee in the ribs with his elbow and winked, "I'll put a good word in for you, boy."

"Thanks."

Cynthia put up her parasol and took Cloud's arm. "Mr Lee is such a clumsy man, Mr Cloud." She said after they'd taken a few steps.

"He ain't so bad really, miss, once you get to know him."

She looked back over her shoulder to see him helping a soggy Clarence to his feet, he put the jug on the edge of the table where it promptly fell off onto Clarence's foot.

He was leaning on the window sill chuckling to himself.

"Sir?" Asked the valet who was brushing some fluff from the back of his coat.

"Nothing, nothing, Edgar, that will be all."

"Yes, sir." He bowed and left.

Haddington continued to watch Miss Blackie in the garden, the butterfly she had been chasing had quickly disappeared. Now with majestic deliberation she was making her way through the grass toward a tree.

To his surprise one of the branches moved slightly to wave in her face, she stopped and the branch did so again this time a paw shot out but not quickly enough. The branch came down quickly and up again, Miss Blackie sprang in the air after it.

'The tree seems to be playing with her.' Thought Haddington as he realised there was not a breath of wind, yet the branch was definitely moving, much to the delight of Miss Blackie.

Haddington watched her for some time until Gilmore appeared to tell him Lady Marlebone was a little in need of a fourth for bridge. He gave one last look out of the window at the cat and then left the room.

Miss Blackie got her claws into the branch as it swung down and rose up with it, suddenly a net was thrown over her.

"Got you, you little devil." Smiled Garth as he gathered the neck of the net trapping her inside. "You'll not bother my lads again."

He did not see the root of the tree sticking out of the ground and fell over, suddenly a branch came from above to land on him.

"What the blazes....." He was stunned and relaxed his grip on the net, in a flash Miss Blackie went quickly loping off. "What's the matter with you, Rupert?" He said as he lay on the ground looking over his shoulder with narrowed, suspicious eyes, "alright, it was an accident, stop blubbering, Rupert.......stop......in the name of God, Rupert, stop whining, I am not going to pull you out by the roots." It was difficult to believe that such a thought had not crossed the mind behind the narrowed eyes so carefully watching Rupert.

The lazy, sunny afternoon passed quickly enough into night and to Cloud and Lee's surprise they found that Haddington had a few people in the district, including the vicar, drop in for a visit.

Cloud thought it was mighty neighbourly of them, he had no idea that Haddington had a social evening at least once a week, and only by special invitation.

After supper they broke up into small groups around tables as partners formed up for bridge, which seemed to be a real craze, thought Cloud as Sir Rupert partnered Lady Marlebone while he partnered Lee.

It was very late when the guests had all left. Haddington sat talking with Cloud and Clarence while they smoked cigars and finished their drinks.

Cloud and Clarence were in the midst of a furious argument about the merits of English and American boxers.

"Well, gentlemen," Haddington got to his feet, "I believe I'll leave you to your nasty habits and retire."

"Goodnight, Your Lordship," said Clarence as he got to his feet.

"Goodnight, Clem," said Cloud still sitting, "how can you compare them," he said to Clarence as Haddington strolled from the room, "only a fool could say there was any comparison."

Haddington strolled out to the back garden with his hands in his pockets, he intended to finish his cigar before going to bed. He stood facing the trees, the night was cool and peaceful, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, he took a last draw on his cigar and was about to drop it to the ground to extinguish it when something caught his eye. Down near the garden chairs was the quick glow of a cigarette.

Casually he made his way down to them as he drew nearer he could make out the shape of Lee. He sat in one chair with his feet up on the table.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all, Your Lordship." He didn't move.

Haddington sat down in the chair on the other side of the table.

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

"Smokey thinks you're in bed, you have an early morning before you."

"I don't think one late night will do me much harm."

"I quite agree old man." He dropped his cigar and stamped it out. "Have you got a cigarette?"

Wordlessly Lee took one out of his pocket and handed it across, Haddington lit it.

"Give me a good cigar any day." He said with a grimace after his first draw, he quickly dropped the cigarette and ground it out. Lee continued to sit in silence. "What would you do, Two-Refs, if all this land were suddenly yours?"

"I don't know."

"It's worth a great deal of money, you know?"

"I'm sure it is."

"I've even heard suggestions about cutting it up and selling it off in sections, how would you feel about that?"

"You mean if I owned it?"

"Yes."

"I'd fight every attempt to do so."

"Do you really believe yourself to be my grandson?"

"Smokey believes I am, and he's never lied to me in his life."

"But he could be wrong."

"He's one of the most cautious men I know, he'd have to have pretty good evidence to stop half-way through the fight season to drag me half across the world."

"He has your interest at heart, doesn't he, I mean, what does he hope to get out of it?"

Lee looked at him in silence as he puffed on his cigarette.

"I've got a lot of faith in Smokey Cloud, I'd trust that man with everything I've got."

"I didn't mean that to sound so offensive, I just wanted your opinion."

"If I were your grandson and I had all this land, Smokey would shake my hand, wish me luck and he'd go back home."

"Would you let him?"

"I'd do everything to stop him, but he's his own master, he'll do whatever he wants to."

"Well, it's been nice talking to you, Two-Refs," Haddington got to his feet, "by the way, what is your name, I can't keep calling you Two-Refs?"

"It's Jerome."

Haddington looked at him silently for a long moment. "Don't stay up too long, Two-Refs." He began to chuckle. "I don't mean to be offensive, Two-Refs, but Sir Rupert's second name is Jerome, quite frankly, I loathe the name."

"I prefer Two-Refs myself."

"By the way, young Winterhaiming and the Marlebone girl were getting on very well tonight, don't you think?"

"Yes, they were, weren't they?"

"So you're determined to make it easy for the fellow, are you?"

"Goodnight, Your Lordship."

"You're a damned fool, do you know that?"

"You know, Your Lordship, I may be your grandson or I may not, you may choose to call me your grandson or you may not, but I just might not want to be your grandson."

Haddington snorted and walked back to the house. "Goodnight, Two-Refs." He called.

"Goodnight, Your Lordship."

* * * * *

# Chapter 6

"Well, boys, we're finished." It was after lunchtime Tuesday, and George stood with his hands on his hips as he surveyed the wall.

"The way you were driving us," said Dickie, "I thought you were building a bleeding pyramid, pick that up, carry that brick." He mimicked.

"What, Dickie, you carry a brick?" Asked Charlie.

"And ruin those beautiful hands?" Laughed George.

Dickie pulled a face as he walked over to the wall to brush away a piece of hair carefully. George had hired two local men to help get the job done quickly, now they all stood admiring their handiwork.

"Come out and see your wall, woman," called George, "She's plagued me for weeks to get it built now it's done there's no sign of her."

At this stage an open carriage was going past on the road, it struck a hole and bounced in the air to land heavily, shattering one of the wheels, it ground along on an axle until Rogers could stop the horses.

Lee sat squeezed with Winterhaiming and Clarence on one seat while Haddington and Cynthia sat on the other.

By the time the workmen had reached them Haddington was nursing Cynthia who had fainted. Dickie was waddling up at a steady rate when he caught sight of Haddington, he stopped and looked back at the wall. Then a dejected figure, he walked back to sit under the shade of a tree near the house. George's wife came out with a tray holding a jug of beer and glasses.

"I'll take them, missus."

"Where is everybody?" She asked as she walked over to allow Dickie to help himself to the beer.

"Your wall's gone, you know, you can wave goodbye to it."

"What are you talking about?" She glanced up at the carriage.

"Lord Clumsy's here."

"Has there been an accident?"

"Of course there has, woman, I just told you Lord Clumsy was here." She dropped the tray but Dickie managed to save the jug and a glass. Lee came walking down to where Dickie sat.

"I wonder if I might borrow that," he pointed to the jug, "we've got a lady who fainted up there."

Gracie hurried up to the carriage to see if she could help.

"Its beer, mate, ladies don't drink beer."

"I think we can bend that rule a little just this once."

"It's him, ain't it, it's Lord Clumsy, he's here, ain't he?"

"It's Lord Haddington, if that's who you mean?"

"It's gone, of course, he'll destroy it." Mumbled Dickie to himself.

"Destroy what?"

"Our wall, see, over there, that wall, he'll destroy it now."

"It looks as solid as a house." Lee walked over to look at it, Dickie continued to mumble to himself as he poured more beer into his glass. Lee put a hand to the wall and pressed.

"Don't touch that wall!" Roared George as he ran down to join Lee, the workmen came after him.

"Yeah, bring him down," mumbled Dickie, "come on Lord Clumsy, we got a wall here for you." He drained his glass.

"That character over there," Lee indicated Dickie, "seems to think this wall is about to be destroyed."

"If you go sticking your big ugly paws all over it, it soon will be."

"Look, pal, I ain't touching it, see." Lee dug his finger into George's chest.

Dickie saw Haddington taking a few steps away from the carriage. "LOOK OUT!" He roared, Haddington thought it was a warning that something was happening at the carriage so he retraced his steps. But Dickie's warning startled the workmen gathered at the wall, both of them turned around and stepped back to bump Charlie who in turn bumped George who knocked Lee against the wall.

"Watch it, you clot." Warned George.

"Who are you calling a clot?"

"The one with a face like a clot."

"Do you mean me, mister?"

"Yes, mister, I mean you."

Lee took up a stance and George raised his fists to defend himself. Lee lunged forward but tripped on a brick and managed to knock Charlie to the ground. He danced around to hit George and knock him against the wall. George bounced back to get a second punch that sent him against the two workmen and they all fell to the ground.

"Anybody else think I'm a clot?" Asked Lee defiantly.

"Stop that, stop it." Called Gracie as she came down from the carriage.

"Save your breath, missus, your wall's gone." Said Dickie calmly as he drained the last of the beer from the jug. She gave him a look that was unmistakable to which Dickie grinned stupidly.

She ran down to start hitting out at Lee with her open hands. He tried to protect himself by holding his hands up to his face, while she managed to bounce him off the wall a couple of times.

"He's hitting a woman." Said one of the workmen to the other in shocked surprise. They got to their feet and ran at him together. He sidestepped Gracie who continued striking out blindly until she came in contact with the wall.

Dickie leaned back against the tree and folded his arms on his chest. Clarence and Haddington stood watching with interest.

Lee knocked one, then the other to the ground and turned to grab Gracie by the shoulders as she continued striking at the wall. George and Charlie came at him, he stepped away from Gracie to meet them and knocked them to the ground.

Dickie found a piece of stale cake in his pocket and was munching on it contentedly. The two workmen took up a heavy piece of wood between them and came running at Lee, he jumped out of the way and they slammed into the wall. Dickie closed his eyes.

Lee knocked one and then the other to the ground, Gracie sat on the ground exhausted. Lee stood brushing his hands together.

"Upon my soul...." Began Haddington. Lee leaned with one hand on the wall. This proved to be too much for the edifice, it groaned and began to lean over dangerously, Lee stepped back as the wall slowly fell away from his hand with a roar, a huge cloud of dust rose in the air and began to settle on the six people.

Haddington waited until the dust had settled and in the heavy silence said with admiration. "There had to be a record somewhere in there, Clarence."

But Clarence was running down to see if he could help. Dickie had been startled by the noise so that he'd dropped his piece of cake, he scrambled on all fours as Haddington also came running down to step on his hand.

"Do get out of the way, sir."

"Sorry, Your Lordship." He said holding his injured hand in the air while he picked up the piece of cake with his other hand.

Much later, after the troublemakers had had the carriage repaired and driven away, four very dejected men sat on a fallen tree staring glumly at the demolished wall. Dickie sat on a pile of rocks eating a piece of cake from the house.

"This is good, missus, have you got any more?"

"It was supposed to be for four people, maybe if I'd have made it for five somebody besides yourself would have gotten some."

"No more, is there? Pity."

"All that work," said Charlie in disgust, "all for nothing."

"You make him pay for this, George." Said Gracie.

"Don't you worry about that, woman."

"We've got to start again." Said Dickie searching in vain in his pockets for more food.

"Not until we make that clot pay for this damage," George got to his feet, "come on lads, we'll go pay the fellow a visit."

George went trudging off to be followed by Charlie, the two workmen sat with their chins in their hands staring at the mess. Dickie sat back comfortably on his pile of bricks.

"Aren't you going with your brothers?" Asked Gracie as she leaned against the house with her arms folded on her chest.

"No, missus, I need to conserve me strength to start work again when they get back."

"Don't you think they might need your help?" She asked coldly.

"No, missus, you see I'm the sensitive one of the family, they're the brawn."

"Well, Mr Sensitive, I think you should go with them."

"No, missus, I need me rest."

"You've had more than enough rest."

"You're disturbing my rest, woman."

"If you don't go to help your brothers, Mr Sensitive, you'll get no supper tonight," a breeze went past her, "do you hear....." the pile of bricks was empty.

"All that work, George," Charlie was saying as Dickie caught up with them, "It's a disgrace."

"A disgrace." Panted Dickie.

"Don't you worry lad, he'll pay for it."

They came upon an overturned barrow, with fruit all over the ground, a crowd of children were helping themselves. Charlie and George continued on but Dickie decided to rest under the shade of a tree where he saw an old man with his head against the tree reading a newspaper.

Dickie picked up an apple and sat down beside him to watch the children. "Your barrow?" He asked, the old man looked over from his paper.

"That's right, brother."

"Lord Clumsy?" Dickie took a bite of the apple.

"That's right, brother, Lord flippin' Clumsy, you met him?"

"Too often, brother."

"Yeah, well, I'm laughin'."

"I can see that." He continued to munch on his apple.

"I'll say this much for Lord flippin' Clumsy, he pays well."

"Does he?" Dickie was interested.

"He does, brother."

"He paid for all this, did he?"

"He did, a fine man, but flippin' clumsy, worse than any herd of bulls in any flippin' china shop."

"And he paid for all the damage?"

"Flippin' twice over, brother."

"Thanks, brother." Dickie got to his feet. "Have a nice rest."

"I flippin' well intend to, brother." He went back to his paper, as Dickie ran off to join his brothers.

"All that work, George."

'Looks like I missed nothing.' Thought Dickie as he came up to them with a spring in his step.

She watched them trudging back in the rain, three very dejected men. She slammed the door shut and locked it and went to the window.

George, Charlie and Dickie stood out in the pouring rain facing her.

"How much did you get?"

"Not one farthing, missus," said a disgruntled Dickie, "threatened to put their dogs on to us, they did."

"Scared of a few mongrel dogs, are we?" She asked coldly.

"The dogs we could have handled," said Dickie, "they set this old geezer onto us, 'off my land,' he said, he must have said it a thousand bleedin' times, like a bleedin' echo, 'off my land, bunch of twerps,' lovely language I must say it was."

"What happened, George?"

George and Charlie stood in bitter silence with their collars held up to their throats.

"They said they owed us nothing." Said George finally.

"He always pays for what he does." She said.

"Mr Clarence said His Lordship was not to blame, it was some American called Lee."

"Isn't he a guest of His Lordship?"

"Mr Clarence said His Lordship can't be held responsible for what his guests do."

"Ah, missus," Dickie was sniffing the air, "are you cooking, by any chance?"

"My supper. Couldn't you get something from the American, after all he did it?"

"Just what is there for supper, missus?"

"For you, you mean?"

"Yes."

"Nothing. Well, George?"

"Mr Clarence said he hasn't got any money."

"So, who is to pay for a new wall?"

"Us."

She looked at them coldly for a long time. "Seeing as you're all brothers, you can all have the same for supper." She slammed the window closed.

The three stood in the pouring rain and exchanged glances, finally Dickie broke and ran to pound on the door.

"Missus, missus, these are not my brothers, I'm a foundling."

"I'll say this much for him, Charlie, he's consistent."

"Missus, missus," he pounded on the door, "only a cold-hearted, mean-fisted creature with the face of a witch could be this cruel to a fellow human-being." Her angry face appeared at the window and Dickie stopped pounding, she drew the curtain. "Don't listen to me, missus, I'm a liar, missus."

He crept forward in the darkness, through the pouring rain, slowly carefully he moved a branch aside to squint across the clearing. There she sat under the protecting branches of Waldo, the villain, the evil hand-maiden of the devil.

Garth shifted the net from one hand to the other and crept through the grass, he wore a twisted smile as he put one foot in front of the other, Miss Blackie suddenly looked off to her right and he froze. He looked up at Jeffrey towering over him and put a finger to his lips.

Carefully he raised the net and was about to take another step when a vivid streak of lightning flashed through the sky followed by a roar of thunder.

Miss Blackie got to her feet and Garth lunged forward but she had just decided to run to the next tree so Garth came down on empty space. He sprang out after Miss Blackie who went loping off through the rain totally unaware of her pursuer.

Garth slipped on the wet grass and fell on his face. There was another flash of lightning. "Hello." He said as he saw something in the mud, a foot-print, a fresh foot-print, but he didn't recognise it, Garth knew everyone who would need to come among his trees. There was a stranger among them, and on a night like this, he took a firmer grip on the net and got to his knees.

Suddenly there was another flash of lightning and Garth saw him.

He stood by one of the trees in a dark cloak, he wore a deer-stalker hat, with a white corpse-like face he stood looking silently at Garth.

Garth opened his mouth to scream in fear, but it was drowned out by a clap of thunder. His eyes rolled to the top of his head and he fell into a swoon his mouth wide open.

When he returned to consciousness he lay in the rain, soaked to the skin. He picked up the net and got to his feet and approached the spot where he'd seen the stranger but it was empty. He stood scratching his head.

"Who the devil was he," he thought to himself, "well, lads," he said out loud, "who was he?" He put his hands to his ears. "Quiet, quiet, you're all like a pack of silly women, one at a time. Alright, I know he scared you, you bunch of....." He walked over to one of the trees. "Well, Rupert, you tell me?" He stood wiping his wet face with a wet handkerchief. "I know what I saw....I... I...saw.... He was......Be quiet for one minute, you wooden fool! That's better, now, why are you talking like that, Wupert?"

Haddington came down the stairs humming to himself merrily puffing on a cigar, he was approaching the corridor.

"A tongue, sir, a tongue......."

"Oh, good Lord." He sighed and cut through one of the side rooms.

"I say." Said Winterhaiming suddenly as he sat beside Cynthia, "I certainly don't want to be tiresome."

"Poor devil," smiled Cloud to Lady Marlebone, "perhaps if he keeps trying, he'll make it one day.

"I believe I should say 'gin' at this stage." She said.

"Only if you put all your cards down." Said Cloud.

"Gin." She said as she did so. Cloud exchanged glances with Clarence.

"Alright Winterhaiming," said Lee as he sat across the room sipping a drink, "you don't want to be tiresome, but go ahead anyway.

"Yes, Reggie, what is it?" Asked Cynthia.

"I thought I saw a face at the window." Said Winterhaiming

"Nonsense," said Clarence dealing the cards again, "only a fool would be out on a night like this.

"Probably Garth." Said Cloud.

"It looked like a corpse."

"It was Garth." Cloud smiled as he looked at his hand. "You can deal all night if you want to, Clarence, old friend." He took a turn and looked at Lady Marlebone.

"Oh dear," she said, "don't say it's my turn."

"It's your turn, Lady Marlebone." Smiled Cloud.

"Oh dear."

"Come along, old girl, there's nothing to be afraid of." Said Cloud.

"Promise me you'll not be angry."

"We promise, we promise." Smiled Cloud.

"Gin!"

"You're not to deal again, Clarence, do you hear?"

"Lady Marlebone is just an excellent player."

"Yeah, well it helps when you have some heavy-handed jerk dealing the cards." They were in the midst of a violent argument when Haddington came strolling in.

"Ah, all ready for a pleasant night of cards, are we?" He smiled as he looked at Cloud and Clarence.

"Reggie thought he saw a face at the window, Your Lordship." Said Cynthia.

"Nonsense, my dear, no one in his right senses would be out on a night like this."

"I did see a face, Your Lordship."

"Probably our Mr Garth."

"It looked like a corpse."

"There you are, it was Garth." Haddington took a seat facing Lady Marlebone.

Lee stood looking out of the window, there was a flash of lightning and the muted sound of thunder.

"I can't see anything out there." He said.

"If there was a chap foolish enough to be out there," said Winterhaiming, "I'm sure he wouldn't stand there for you to see him."

"Probably gone back to his grave." Muttered Lee as he returned to his seat.

"Gentlemen, can we please change the subject." Said Lady Marlebone with a shudder.

"You've hired a lot of mutes, Clem." Said Sir Rupert as he came strolling in, "the fellows won't open their mouths, a lot of confounded mutes, I can use some of them at my house, a lot of chatterboxes I've got, constantly chattering away, repeating themselves day and night, they are," there was a flash of lightning, "I say," he said suddenly. "I just saw a face at that window."

"No one would be out on a night like this." Said Cloud.

"Must have been Garth." Said Haddington.

"Fellow looked like a corpse."

"I wonder, gentlemen," said Clarence rubbing his temples slowly, "if we could put all this another way, we are getting dangerously close to all sounding like a certain repetitive person."

"What on earth do you mean, Clarence," smiled Haddington, "what on earth do you mean?"

"He was an ugly fellow." Said Winterhaiming.

"He certainly was." Agreed a smiling Haddington.

"Lord Haddington," said Clarence, "would you please send the servants out to check on this confounded face at the window?"

"Certainly not. If two guests of mine are a little too liberal in their intake of certain fine beverages made so readily available and begin to see faces of corpses at my windows, why should my servants be discomfited. On the other hand if some silly corpse has taken it into his head to roam the land on a night like this, then that is his concern."

"Pardon me, Your Lordship."

"Yes, Gilmore, what is it?"

"You wanted me to inform you as soon as Miss Blackie returned for the night."

"Thank you, Gilmore." He wore a pleased smile as he rubbed his hands together vigorously. "Now, shall I deal?"

"Anyone who wants to can deal," said Cloud, "except Clarence."

It was quite late when the game finally came to an end. Haddington sat in one corner finishing a last glass of whisky with Lee while they looked across at Cynthia and Winterhaiming.

"She's a very fine young woman." Said Haddington, Lee knew who he was talking about.

"Yes, she is." He took a drink.

"She has exceptional qualities, all she needs is to find the right husband to draw out those qualities and the community will have a valuable asset."

"So too would the husband." Smiled Lee.

"That's very true, my boy."

"Reggie seems to have some idea about that position."

"A real rival would give him a run for his money." Lee looked at him with a faint smile on his lips. "It looks as though they're leaving."

Cynthia and Reggie got up linked arms and strolled from the room, Lee was just replacing his glass on the table behind him so that only Haddington caught sight of Cynthia casting a very quick glance in his direction.

"Why don't you go after them?"

"Why would I do that, Your Lordship?"

"You could walk her to her room, you could ensure that young rascal doesn't take any liberties with her, that's the least a rival would do."

"I'm not a rival." Haddington looked at him quickly with a grim expression. "I believe Miss Marlebone can make up her own mind."

"Bah," said Haddington testily, "women can't make up their own minds, they are incapable of doing so, why do you think they have husbands."

"I'm sorry, Your Lordship, I don't happen to agree with you."

Haddington drained his glass and got to his feet grumpily.

"You Americans have a most descriptive phrase," Lee looked up at him calmly, "it's called being a quitter. Goodnight, sir." He stomped from the room, Clarence left Cloud in mid sentence to follow him. "Gilmore!"

"Coming, sir." Gilmore came from nowhere with a tray holding a bottle of whisky and a glass.

"Good man, take it to my room."

"May I speak to you, Your Lordship?" Asked Clarence.

"Certainly." He signalled Gilmore to go on up the stairs, "what is it, Clarence?"

"I was just wondering," he watched Gilmore with a slight frown as he disappeared up the stairs, "how much longer you intend to keep young Winterhaiming in the dark over his future."

"Did you see the way that spineless jelly-fish acted?"

"Yes, Your Lordship."

"No grandson of mine would act that way, it's entirely foreign to the Haddington nature."

"Conversely, young Winterhaiming has acted perfectly."

Haddington looked at him grimly and then lit a cigar. "It does seem that way, doesn't it?" He said bitterly.

"You know my feelings on this matter, Your Lordship."

"You're calling Lee a liar, do you know that, in fact, worse than a liar."

"That's right, that's exactly what I've said from the first." Haddington sat down in a chair and put his arm on a table and rested his chin in his hand, he let out a long sigh. "My recommendation is that you make a formal announcement on this first thing in the morning."

"I liked that boy."

"There's nothing wrong with Winterhaiming." Haddington looked up at him coldly. "We're discussing natural justice, Your Lordship, there's no place for sentiment."

Haddington got to his feet and went to the foot of the stairs. "I can tell you this much," he said firmly, "I'm certain that no punch-drunk buffoon from Chicago could remotely resemble my grandson."

"May I tell Winterhaiming that, Your Lordship?"

Haddington puffed on his cigar deep in thought for a second. "Yes, you can tell him that." He went on up the stairs.

"Goodnight, Your Lordship." Clarence was very pleased.

"Goodnight."

Lady Marlebone was also very pleased, in fact, she was ecstatic. She had been standing just off from the stairs in a side room smoking a cigarette, a terrible weakness she had, and had heard every word. With a pleased smile on her face at having made the right decision, she used a small statue to put out the cigarette putting the stub in her handkerchief and was walking away from the stairway so she didn't hear the next exchange.

"Oh, Clarence." Said Haddington from the top of the stairs.

"Yes, Your Lordship?"

"On second thought I prefer that you not mention what I just said to anyone."

"Not even Winterhaiming?"

"Especially not Winterhaiming."

"Very well, Your Lordship, but I think you're making a mistake."

"Thank you, good night."

Clarence watched him disappear and then slammed his fist into his open palm. "Damn!" He hissed.

"I say," Sir Rupert was stepping out of a side room and Lady Marlebone ran into him.

"I beg your pardon, Sir Rupert."

"Dear lady," he smiled, "the fault is all mine, I was just inspecting some of the family portraits, would you care to join me? Fascinating things they are."

"What a delightful idea, Sir Rupert."

By the third painting Lady Marlebone had become panic-stricken, she knew she had to get away from Sir Rupert and his constant repetition or she would be seriously considering running a spear through his body.

They drew up before a portrait and stood near a suit of armour.

"Now this fellow is interesting, very interesting, a very interesting fellow indeed, grandfather Walter, an interesting fellow. He used to nurse me on his knee, it's true, on his knee, he did, on his knee he used to nurse me." Discretely Lady Marlebone slipped his hand from around her arm and onto an arm of the suit of armour and quickly made her escape. "There are a great many of my relatives who tell me I look just like him, of course I haven't got the grey beard, or the squinty eyes or that scar down the left side of his face....."

She went quickly to Cynthia's room and put her head inside.

"Cynthia, tomorrow you will cut Mr Lee."

"No, mother." She said calmly as she sat on the edge of her bed.

"That's a good girl." The head was withdrawn and the door was closed. Suddenly the door was flung wide open. "What did you say?"

"I said I would not cut Mr Lee, tomorrow or any other day."

"Oh, yes, you will, my girl." Her mother advanced on her. "You are going to marry Mr Winterhaiming."

Cynthia sat demurely staring into the distance and then finally spoke. "Yes, mother."

"That's better, from now on you will do everything to please him, you will even go to the lengths of showing him he has no rival."

"I will not cut Mr Lee."

"Don't be a silly goose......"

"Reggie is jealous of Mr Lee." She said suddenly.

"Is he?" Her mother was pleased at that idea and sat down beside her. "Mr Lee could be very useful, he might help to make poor Reggie reach his decision."

"Yes, mother."

"Has he said anything, my dear?"

"Not yet, but I think he soon will."

Her mother patted her hand. "Your father will be pleased, he'll be so very pleased," she walked over to the door, "not to mention relieved. Goodnight, dear."

"Goodnight, mother."

"Spineless." Muttered Haddington with disgust as he refilled his glass, he sat on the edge of his bed and drained it in almost one gulp. Miss Blackie sat by his side purring as he stroked her, he refilled his glass again. "Spineless. One small setback and he gives up, would you do that? Would I? Of course we wouldn't. How can I turn all this over to a spineless jelly-fish, he'll have to be a fighter, a real fighter. This place is not easy to run, you know that. If he quits at the first obstacle...." Haddington shook his head and got to his feet, he walked up and down and stopped before the rain streaked window and then looked back at Miss Blackie. "How would you like Winterhaiming being in charge around here?" She looked at him with wide eyes. "Nor would I." He refilled his glass.

It was the early hours of the morning before Haddington finally fell asleep with Miss Blackie purring in the crook of his arm.

He woke up in a foul mood but dressed quietly and left the room trying not to wake Miss Blackie who had her throat flat on the bed, snoring.

He went straight to his office not bothering to see his guests or having any breakfast and locked himself in where he finished off another bottle.

The maid looked over her shoulder at Gilmore who was removing the empty bottle from Haddington's bedroom.

"Will you look at this," she held up a pillow for Gilmore to see, "What did the pillow do to him? The slip was hanging in tatters.

"There is no necessity for any uncalled for comment, just place the pillow in a new slip, if you please."

"So long as His Lordship is aware I am not responsible for this."

"His Lordship is well aware of where the responsibility lies." Gilmore looked at an innocent faced Miss Blackie sitting watching him from the window sill.

Cloud was coming down the corridor with his hands behind his back and a cigarette dangling from his lips, he stopped to look at a suit of armour which just happened to be near the door of Haddington's office.

With a crash the door flew open and Haddington came striding out carrying a walking stick and tying a cloak around his throat.

"Good morning, Clem."

"Get out of my way, you confounded fool!" He snapped as he strode past. "Gilmore!"

"Yes, sir?" Gilmore appeared near Cloud, who stood with his mouth wide open, his lit cigarette at his feet.

"Has Rogers got the carriage ready?" Asked Haddington, who came striding back.

"He has, Your Lordship." Gilmore bowed slightly as Haddington went by, then His Lordship stopped and looked back.

"You! You, sir, with the ugly face." Cloud looked over his own shoulder and then looked back with raised eyebrows. "If you ever dare to presume to address me in that repulsive fashion again I shall take the greatest delight in making that face of yours even uglier. If that were possible." He spun on his heels and disappeared.

"What did I say?" Cloud asked Gilmore.

"His Lordship is not himself this morning, sir."

"Well, I don't know who he is, Gilmore, but the next time you see him, you tell him that if he talks to me like that I'll do some facial work of my own."

"Yes, sir."

Cloud stomped off angrily.

"Where's Dickie?"Asked Charlie.

"I think there'll be no more rain today." Said George looking up at the cloudy sky. "I don't know where he is, I haven't seen him since last night."

"Did he have breakfast?" Gracie snorted loudly from the house.

"Knowing that sound, and knowing Dickie, I would say he had breakfast."

"I wonder where he's got to, we'll need his help to build the new wall."

"You don't mean to say you think he helped us with the old wall?" Asked George.

"I thought he did."

"He supplied us with directions, and not very worthwhile directions at that."

"And ate." Called Gracie.

"Alright, woman, we know that." Said George.

She came to stand at the door with a broom in her hand. "If I were you two, I'd build that thing before he causes more trouble."

"Alright, woman."

Dickie leaned against the wall of the house reading a newspaper, a barrow laden with fish stood at his elbow, there was a light breeze and Dickie wrinkled his nose to move a little further away from the barrow, he glanced up the road, saw no sign of a carriage and went back to his paper.

"Hey, mister."

Dickie lowered his paper to see an old woman standing at the barrow, feeling one piece of fish after the other, she sneezed violently and wiped her nose on a handkerchief.

"What do you think you're doing, missus?"

"I want to buy some fish for my family's dinner, how much is this one?"

"Get away from there, go on, we ain't got no fish."

"What do you call this then, a cabbage?" She held up the fish.

"They're reserved."

"Reserved? Who reserved them?"

"I did, now hop it, missus." She sneezed violently, "and stop spreading your bleeding germs on me fish, do you want to kill 'em?" He wiped one with his sleeve, caught a whiff of it, dropped it and stepped back.

"Your sign says fish for sale." She pointed to the sign on his barrow.

"So it does." He smiled, he picked up a piece of chalk from the barrow and wrote 'no' in front of the sign. "Now, missus, satisfied?"

"I want to buy a piece of fish for my family."

"Look, it's a lovely day, why don't you buy 'em a nice piece of cheese." He caught sight of a carriage just coming into the street. "You'll have to excuse me, missus, I've got a customer coming." She stood in front of his barrow and folded her arms on her chest. "Don't make me run over you, missus," he warned as he picked up the end of the barrow, "I don't want to damage me barrow."

"I'll not move till I buy me fish."

"Blimey, it's him." Said Dickie as he recognised Haddington's carriage, he ran to the front of his barrow, "which one did you want?" She pointed silently and he picked it up to drop it into her hands then he grabbed her about the shoulders to move her aside.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing." Dickie ran back to the end of the barrow to raise it. "Call it the Queen's birthday gift."

"It's not the Queen's birthday."

"I'm late."

"It's in a few weeks."

"I'm early." He was puffing as he pushed the barrow past her.

"I'll not take charity."

"Missus, with a face like that, charity is all you're gonna get." Her eyes widened with affront, she turned on her heels to stride away. "And about time too, you old....." The carriage went gliding past. "Typical, isn't it?" He asked one of the fish with disgust.

"Rogers, halt!" Boomed Haddington. The carriage halted, Haddington stood up and looked back at Dickie.

"Fisho, fresh fish, fisho." Called Dickie smiling broadly. Haddington waited for the footman to open the door and stepped out, he came striding up to Dickie, "morning, sir some fish?"

"Where did you get this fish from?"

"Fresh caught, sir, all my fish are fresh caught."

"Stolen from my streams you mean, is that where your poacher friends got them from?"

"Oh, no, no. I get them from the city, sir."

"From the city, you mean they're fresh caught from the city?"

"Well, yes and no, sir, if you get my meaning."

"I do get your meaning, oaf, you mean they're from the city but they're not fresh caught."

"Oaf?"

Haddington stepped up to smell them. "Whew! My God, they must have been fresh caught about a month ago."

"These are the best fish in the area, sir, just feel them."

Haddington picked one up as Dickie tied his cloak around one of the spokes of a wheel of the barrow.

"How long have you had this one, six months?"

"Fresh they are, sir, fresh."

Haddington stepped around to pick up another one and the spoke went with him, Dickie watched with hooded eyes as it had no effect on the barrow.

"You can't call this a fish." He held up a thin piece of leathery-looking stuff and dropped it on the ground. Dickie threw himself on the ground in front of Haddington with visions of his hand being stepped on.

Haddington caught sight of the sign: 'No fish for sale.'

"What's this, an honest tradesman?" He stepped over the hand and walked back to his carriage, climbed in and drove away.

Dickie lay on the ground watching.

"I wonder if he has a twin brother?" He muttered as he got to his feet, he leaned on the edge of the barrow on his elbows until he caught a whiff of the fish and stepped back hurriedly.

"Did you sell this piece of fish?" Came a voice behind Dickie.

"We're closed." He said with disgust as he stood with his arms folded on his chest watching the carriage disappear in the distance.

"I asked you a question, sir."

"Look, mate, are you stone deaf, is that it? Stupid..." Dickie turned around. "Lovely morning, constable."

"Did you sell this piece of fish?" The old woman stood by the constable holding the fish.

"Good heavens, no, constable, this silly old thing must have stolen it."

"Are you aware, sir, that this fish is bad?"

"Of course it's bad, constable, I was cleaning out my stock and was just on my way out of the village to bury them."

"This fish is not fit for human consumption."

"You're absolutely right, constable."

"Then why did you give this piece......"

"Did she tell you that, constable? You naughty old thing, it's wicked to tell lies like that. You must not listen to her, constable, she's a poor old thing, hangs around all the barrows, she does, she doesn't mean to lie, her minds' gone, you see."

"Is this the man, mother?"

"Mother?"

"It is, Brian."

"I think you'd better come along with me, sir."

"What about me barrow?"

The constable walked over to stand near it. "I think we can leave it here for now," he squinted at it, "is it safe?"

"Safe! Constable, that is a unique piece of British craftsmanship." With that the barrow gave a groan, a wheel fell off and one side dropped to the ground as the constable, his mother and Dickie looked on in silence. There was another groan and the barrow slipped from the other wheel and crashed to the ground, the wheel stood motionless for a second and then fell over, onto Dickie's foot.

"Looks like a public nuisance." Said the constable. "The magistrate's got a busy morning ahead of him."

"Charming." Gasped Dickie as he massaged his foot.

"And he insulted me, Brian."

"You know that's impossible." Said Dickie.

"You said I had an ugly face."

"I was giving an honest observation."

"You're only making it worse for yourself, sir." Dickie was on his knees in front of the constable.

"I'm innocent, constable, I was walking along this street and I saw this abandoned barrow with all this rotten fish, I was just pushing it aside so none of the village people would have to smell the foul stuff."

"You bought the barrow and the fish off old farmer Willow." Said the constable.

"Did he tell you that? He's a liar, he's an old man jealous of young, handsome tradesmen like myself."

"My brother has never told a lie in his life." Said the old woman.

"Brother?"

"You'd better come along with me, sir."

"For Heaven's sake, constable, take me along before I say something else." Pleaded Dickie.

"I believe I know Mr Dobkins." Said the magistrate grimly.

"He's a Buddhist." Said the recorder.

"Of course, the Buddhist."

Dickie did his little act of holding his joined hands to his head, bowing and mumbling a few words of gibberish.

"Dear me, Mr Dobkins, selling bad fish." The magistrate shook his head.

"Well, your honour, yes and no."

"Indeed, Mr Dobkins?"

"You see today is a very special day to all Buddhists, it's called 'bad fish day'."

"Bad fish day?"

"Buddhists believe that to save the souls of all people we must give them bad fish, we do this once a year."

"And are the people expected to eat the fish?"

"If they wish to enter paradise, your honour."

"Do you realise if anyone were to eat any of the fish you had, they very likely would have been entering the gates of paradise shortly thereafter?"

"But their souls would have been saved."

"I've never heard of this ridiculous 'bad fish day'." Said the recorder testily.

"Do we have to have him here, your honour?" Asked Dickie.

"Hold your tongue, recorder, if you please."

"I've spoken to my nephew about what Mr Dobkins said, your honour."

"Southern Punjab Buddhists always lie."

"He is not a Southern Punjab Buddhist."

"Recorder....."

"Did he tell you that?"

"Mr Dobkins......"

"He did."

"And I suppose he said he's not heard of my sect?"

"He did."

"Born liars they are."

"Silence!" The gavel came down with a whack that made the room jump."You," said the magistrate to the recorder, "will not say another word."

"That's right, your honour, religious intolerance is a horrible thing, it's un-English." Smiled Dickie, when the judge turned a pale, grim face on him, Dickie went through his blessing act.

"Now, Mr Dobkins."

"Yes, your honour?"

"You are perfectly at liberty to practice your faith in my area." Dickie blessed him again. "But you must not try to poison my people."

"My ignorance, your honour, a simple misunderstanding."

"No doubt. But you were also selling your fish without a permit."

"Beg pardon, your honour, with all due respect to you and to your constable here, I was not selling the fish, I was distributing them in an honest endeavour to help my fellow creatures."

"No doubt. But next time you decide to distribute fish to the citizens of my area, do be sure to get a permit, won't you?"

"I will, your honour," he blessed the magistrate and turned to go.

"One moment, Mr Dobkins, where are you going?"

"I have been suitably chastised, your honour, I accept my punishment and thank the court."

"Punishment, Mr Dobkins?"

"Public humiliation, your honour, I have been shown the error of my ways by your good self and am resolved to correct them." Dickie blessed him again.

"Oh, we've not finished with you yet, Mr Dobkins."

"Could it be, your honour, I have unwittingly been the cause of further complaint from the court?"

"Indeed, Mr Dobkins, indeed."

"I am shattered, your honour." Dickie hung his head.

"Your barrow was a hazard to the people of my area, it was unsafe and threatened an innocent passer-by."

"Alas, your honour, its short life is passed, it can harm no-one now."

"But it did harm someone before its demise, I believe?"

"Someone of no account, your honour, a ruffian of the road deserving of punishment." Dickie could feel his foot throbbing.

"I would hardly call our constable a ruffian of the road." Said the magistrate.

"Oh, no, your honour, no indeed." Dickie turned to bless the constable.

"Our constable got a nasty splinter from your barrow, Mr Dobkins."

"I had to shift it from the road, sir." Said the constable to the magistrate.

"Are you smiling, Mr Dobkins?"

"I am just pleased, your honour, the miserable sod....I mean the miserable piece of wood did no more harm than that."

"Quite so. You also insulted one of our most respected citizens?"

"Who might that have been, your honour?"

"The mother of our constable."

"I was beside myself with grief, your honour, I had no idea what I was saying, I had failed to distribute my fish and I was tormented by my failure."

"Of course, of course. And then you even desecrated your Sabbath?"

"Oh, no, your honour. I only distributed fish."

"Our constable said he could smell alcohol on your breath."

"I may have taken a little refreshment at the local inn, your honour, to greet the day. Just one small glass."

"With Farmer Willow?" Dickie blessed him. "With the innkeeper?" Another blessing. "With Mr James?" Another blessing. "With Mr Andrews?"

"My vocation is to carry the Buddhist message to all who will listen."

"I understand that, Mr Dobkins, that's why I'm going to be lenient with you."

"I'd rather your honour not be lenient with me."

"I'm going to fine you two pounds."

"Two.....two........"

"I do hope the amount doesn't displease you, Mr Dobkins, I can amend it if you wish?"

"I bow to your honour's generous kindness and all knowing wisdom." Dickie blessed him.

"Southern Punjab." Snorted the recorder.

"You won't get away from me this time." Garth stood on one branch with the net in his hand as he edged it forward, intending to drop it onto Miss Blackie clawing her way to the end of another branch.

Suddenly the branch leaned down to near the ground, Miss Blackie jumped off and went lopping off.

"You clumsy fool." Said Garth to the tree.

"Upon my word." Came the voice of Sir Rupert on the other side of the tree, Garth edged his way back to the trunk and carefully looked from between two branches. Sir Rupert stood looking at the roots of the tree with a cigarette in his hand. "It was an honest mistake, Mr Tree, I didn't mean to burn you, I've often put my cigarettes out on your friends and none of them have ever said a word."

"That's because they knew it would be a waste of breath trying to talk to human fools like yourself." Said Garth with an evil grin.

"But you're talking to me."

"Then that makes me a bigger fool."

"I say are all trees as polite as you?"

"Oh, no, some of us are almost human, we call them the rude ones."

"I do hope I don't run into any of them."

"You'd regret it if you did."

"I say, old boy, you won't tell Mr Garth that I burnt you, will you?"

"He'll have to be told."

"I know he'll go funny, I just know he'll go funny." Sir Rupert was wringing his hands.

"You'll not say anything against our beloved Mr Garth, not unless you want a branch across your back."

"Naturally, naturally, old boy, I have nothing but the highest regard for the chap."

"Deservedly so."

"Oh, yes."

"You're not Lord Haddington, are you?"

"Oh, no, I'm his brother, Sir Rupert."

"You're the one who is stupid?"

"Am I?"

"That's what most of the lads call you."

"The lads? Oh, you mean....you mean.............your leafy friends?"

"The trees."

"Yes, the trees. They talk about me do they?"

"Whenever we feel like talking about stupid humans who seem to enjoy destroying our friends."

"Your friends? You mean.........you mean......"

"Trees." Said Garth rolling his eyes to the sky.

"Yes, trees. And you trees talk about me do you?"

"Constantly."

"Bless my soul." Smiled Sir Rupert who was very pleased. "Do you fellows talk in English or do you have a foreign language of your own?"

"We're English, aren't we?"

"No, not all of you, we've got some Ash trees over there Clemmie got in Europe......."

"We trees are very patriotic."

"No doubt, no doubt."

"We're planted in English soil, we've grown up in English soil, therefore we're English right down to our boot straps."

"Trees don't have boots."

"Are you correcting me?"

"No, by no means, I merely point out trees do not have boots, no feet you see, no feet, only roots just roots, they don't really go anywhere, do they?"

"How do you know?" There was a period of silence and Garth finally took another peek. Sir Rupert was scratching his head.

"You mean, you fellows move, you move about?"

"My friend over there was originally to the north of London."

"How did he get here?"

"That's a stupid question."

"It was rather, yes it was, wasn't it?"

"He certainly didn't catch a train, did he?"

"I would imagine that would have been a good idea."

"Don't patronise me, Sir Rufus."

"Sir Rupert, Sir Rupert."

"What?"

"You called me Sir Rufus."

"Then why do you call yourself Sir Rupert, if it's Sir Rufus?"

"It's not Sir Rufus, no not Sir Rufus."

"What are you talking about, you stupid man?"

"I'm Sir Rupert, yes that's right, Sir Rupert."

"You mean to say you've got two names?"

"Have I? Have I?"

"Sir Rupert, and Sir Rufus."

"Not really, no no, my friends call me Sir Rupert and my enemies, my enemies call me......call me......"

"Stupid."

"Yes, yes as a matter of fact that's exactly what they call me, they do, yes."

"Well, who is this Sir Rufus?"

"I don't know really, I don't know."

"Why did you bring him up?"

"Did I?"

"I'm just a tree, I certainly didn't."

"No, I don't suppose you did. Sir Rufus? Sir Rufus? I don't know anyone by the name of Sir Rufus."

"Maybe it's your name?"

"My name, my name, oh, no, it's not my name, my name is....is....."

"Sir Rufus."

"That's right." Sir Rupert smiled, but the smile fell. "No, no, that doesn't sound right."

"You'd better make up your mind, if you go about with two names you only confuse the lads."

"The lads, the lads? Oh, you mean....you mean...."

"The trees!" Snapped Garth.

"Yes, trees. Well, I'm sorry I can't help you old man, I just don't know anyone by the name of Sir Rufus. Never heard of Sir Rufus. If you don't mind waiting I'll go and ask Clemmie, I'm sure he'd know, yes, he'd know."

"Rupert." Came the voice of Haddington suddenly and Garth froze. "Rupert who are you talking to?"

"That's right, I'm Rupert, Sir Rupert, thank you, Clemmie, perhaps you could tell my friend here who Sir Rufus is?"

"What friend, Rupert?"

"Mr Tree."

"Mr Tree?"

"Yes, he was asking me about some chap called Sir Rufus, do you know him, do you, Clemmie?"

"Rupert, where is Mr Tree?"

"Here, here, right in front of you, just here."

"That's a tree."

"That's right, that's right, what would you expect me to call him, Mr Dog?"

"What does he call you, Mr Mad?"

"We were having a nice quiet chat, a quiet chat, I was a little foolish....."

"A little foolish."

"I accidentally burnt the poor fellow with my cigarette, he took me to task, you see, for the burning you see, with the cigarette that is, yes, took me to task for my silly actions."

"If he took you to task for every silly action you did, Rupert, he would have a very busy time ahead of him."

"How foolish of me, how very foolish, I should introduce you two."

"That was foolish of you."

"Lord Haddington this is Mr Tree, yes Mr Tree. Mr Tree this is Lord Haddington."

"That is very interesting." Smiled Haddington as he bowed to the tree.

"What's interesting, Clemmie?"

"What Mr Tree just said about his recent visit to Coventry."

"He hasn't said anything about Coventry."

"Oh, dear me, it was Mr Rock here at my feet."

"Mr Rock? Mr Rock? Clemmie, are you alright?"

"You, a man who talks to suits of armour, to paintings and to trees, ask me if I'm alright?"

"But Mr Tree spoke to me, Clemmie, he did, I heard him."

"It was the bats, Rupert, the bats in the belfry you heard."

"There are bats around here as well? I never knew that, Clemmie, I never knew you had bats, I've never seen them, no, never."

Haddington stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the trunk of the tree.

"Are you insane, Rupert, this is a tree, trees do not speak.

"I heard him, Clemmie, he spoke, he did, I heard him speak.

"Only lunatics like Garth and yourself hear trees speak." He seemed to have super-human strength as he rocked the tree back and forth, Garth had to hold on for all he was worth, otherwise he would have been pitched to the ground. "You see, Rupert, it's just a tree. Did it cry out when I nearly tore it from the ground?"

"Well, no......."

"Then come along, you demented fool, before you start lending it money." Haddington stalked off.

"But he did speak to me, Clemmie." Said Sir Rupert as he followed him. "He did."

Garth watched them through the branches with narrowed eyes.

"Shut up, Albert, alright he scared the life out of you, what do you think he did to me? Now, shut up."

"I believe I can talk to you, Lee, your friend seems determined not to listen."

"If you've got something to say, Mr Clarence, Smokey will listen to you."

Clarence and Lee were just walking away from the house, passing the garden chairs, the shorter, slightly stooped solicitor walked with his hands behind his back as Lee smoked a cigarette.

"I was fully resolved to go through with my plan on Monday, but I decided to give you one last chance to reconsider."

"There's nothing to reconsider."

"It could be very messy if the police came in on this, you know, we have very harsh penalties for people who indulge in frauds." Lee said nothing as he walked on. "If you're not thinking of yourself, think of how it would affect Lord Haddington."

"Has it ever occurred to you, Mr Clarence, that maybe I am Lord Haddington's grandson, that maybe I'm not a fraud?"

"Do you think you're his grandson?"

"Yes."

"Then you're a fool. You're not Lord Haddington's grandson."

"How can you be sure?"

"Reginald Winterhaiming is his grandson, and I can tell you this, in a couple of days His Lordship is going to publicly declare it. Now, you can save yourself a lot of bother by leaving quietly as soon as you can."

"I'd like to be around when His Lordship makes his announcement, that will be a very interesting day."

"I warn you, Lee, if you and your friend are still around at that time, something I doubt, I shall institute legal proceedings against the both of you."

"You wouldn't be trying to frighten me, Mr Clarence, would you?" Smiled Lee.

Clarence caught sight of Haddington and his brother coming toward them through a row of trees.

"Let's just go this way, shall we?" Clarence grabbed Lee's arm to steer him into another row of trees.

"You know, Mr Clarence, the way you're pushing Winterhaiming it's as if you had something to gain."

"I'm English, Lee, not American, you chaps just wouldn't understand. All I'm worried about is Lord Haddington, I'll not stand by to see him cheated by a pair of cheap, foreign tricksters."

"You have the darndest way of coming close to getting a punch on the nose, Mr Clarence, do you know that?"

"I see, you'll resort to physical violence, will you, to quieten anyone who dares to raise doubts as to just how genuine you really are?"

"It ain't that. It's being insulted I don't take kindly to. Foreign, trickster even fraud is okay, but never cheap." He smiled.

"Lord Haddington is a kind man."

"I know that."

"Sometimes too kind, there is a certain type of person who will not hesitate to take advantage of that kindness. But His Lordship will not make any decision without consulting me."

"There you are, so what are you worried about?"

"I don't like criminals. I certainly don't like criminals who prey on my friends."

"If I see any, Mr Clarence, I'll let you know."

"I don't need to be told, I've had experience with the criminal class, I know a criminal when I see one. I don't want to bring the authorities in on this, but I'm not going to hold back for much longer. For all I know they could be on your track right now." Clarence turned to look about him suspiciously, Lee looked at him and then calmly looked about.

"Expecting someone?" He asked calmly.

"Our police force is the best in the world."

"Yeah, I've heard that."

"Once they go after a man, they never give up."

"I've heard that too." Lee strolled on calmly smoking his cigarette.

"Time is just about up for you and your friend," called Clarence, "soon it will be out of my hands. And His Lordship won't be able to help you."

Clarence stood with his hands behind his back, Lee waved his hand as he strolled on, he hadn't gone far when he heard a loud crack and groan of timber, there was the sound of a falling tree that hit the ground with a thud.

Lee looked back to see a tree laying on the ground, the mauling he had received at the hands of Lord Haddington had proven too much for Albert.

"I'd better get out of here before Garth jumps up and accuses me of doing that." Thought Lee as he threw his cigarette away. "That's funny, where's Clarence?" He shrugged his shoulders and walked quickly away.

* * * * *

# Chapter 7

By late afternoon the rain had returned and forced everyone inside. Garth was checking one of his trees in the pouring rain.

"What's this?" He looked down carefully at the muddy ground, a freshly made boot print stood out clearly. Garth took up his net and looked about nervously.

The only sound was the pounding rain, he pulled his hat low about his face.

"Where did he go, Henry? This way?" He asked one of his trees as he stepped out into the rain, he moved carefully across the clearing and into the protection of the overhanging branches of the next tree.

Garth was shaking, he wasn't sure whether it was the cold or fear. He took out his handkerchief to mop his brow.

He looked at the tree at his elbow.

"Where?" He looked toward a tree further on, "there?" Nervously he stepped out into the rain and with slow steps made his way across the clearing, then he stopped. "Alright, I'm going." He said between clenched teeth. But he made no effort to move. He was literally frozen to the spot.

He thought he saw some movement near the tree, he dropped the net and stood with bulging eyes, his mouth open ready to scream. There was movement!

"Help." He said in a hoarse whisper. He could see something but he didn't know what. Suddenly from under the tree it sprang out at him. "Mother of God." He said as he dropped to his knees. Miss Blackie came loping past him and ran toward the house. "You little....." He said as he jumped to his feet. "What are you all laughing at?" He asked angrily as he spun in a circle. "You lot were shaking more that I was, you craven cowards."

He reached down to pick up his net, that's when a black shape stepped from behind a tree to tower over him. Garth remained bent down to pick up the net, his eyes threatened to pop from his head as he stared at the pair of muddy boots.

Then the whites of his eyes appeared as his eyeballs went up. "Blimey." Was all he said as he pitched forward in a dead faint.

When he came to a short time later, Cloud was leaning over him as the rain came pouring down.

"I saw him, sir, I saw the stranger, he tried to kill me, sir, he went for my throat I fought him off but he knocked me unconscious."

"You fainted." Said Cloud calmly.

"I fainted from loss of blood, sir."

"Yeah, the blood did rush from your face."

"You may laugh, sir, but I fought......how do you know the blood rushed from my face?"

"Because it was me, you fainted when you saw me."

"Are you trying to be funny? Do you realise you could have killed me? Now, I see everything."

Cloud helped him to his feet and he stepped away to hold the net above his head. "You thought you'd kill me with fright, is that it? That way you'd get my trees."

"I don't want your trees, Mr Garth."

"Keep your distance. Of course you don't want my trees, because they spurned you, didn't they, you damn Yankee."

"No...."

"Don't come any nearer, what did you intend doing with them, turn 'em into furniture? It's alright lads, I've saved you." He called to the trees.

"I don't want your trees, Mr Garth, for furniture or for anything else."

"Ha!" The eyes were narrow with suspicion.

"I mean it."

"Only a crazy idiot would be out in weather like this."

"That's right." Cloud looked at him levelly.

"You admit it, do you?" Asked Garth with an angry face as he held the net ready to bring it down on Cloud's head if he were foolish enough to get too close.

"I have reason to be here."

"A likely story."

"I saw a strange looking character from the house, he wore a dark cloak and a weird looking hat, and I came out to investigate. I saw him just about here......" Cloud hadn't even blinked but Garth was by his side looking at the surrounding trees with suspicion.

"Here, sir?"

"I followed him near that tree when you suddenly appeared and I lost him."

"That tree there, sir?" Garth pointed.

"Yes."

Garth walked over to it.

"Did you see him, William? William?" Garth looked at the tree and then at Cloud. "He's fainted, sir."

"Who's fainted?"

"William, sir."

"The tree's fainted?"

"One of my best lads, it shows, sir, just how evil this fellow is. I'll just stroke his wrist." Garth began to pat one of the low hanging branches.

"Maybe I should get him a glass of water?"

"Would you, sir?"

Cloud grinned mirthlessly at Garth then he turned to trudge through the rain. Suddenly there was the splash of running feet and Garth was by his side.

"You're not leaving me alone, sir?"

"I must get back to the house."

"I'll go with you, sir, to protect you, like."

"What about William?"

"William can protect himself, it will soon be dark, sir, and the stranger will return." He walked through the rain with Cloud back to the house. He took up a position on one of the chairs at the back of the house out of the rain.

Cloud stood smoking a cigarette at one of the windows to watch him for a few moments and then shrugged his shoulders.

Dickie sat at the far end of the table, a sea of plates filled with food at his elbow, Grace was just placing another plate near him.

"Is this all I get, missus?"

"You're in disgrace." Said George up at the other end of the table.

"In disgrace? Me? Why?" He began to eat.

"You put us behind building the first wall and you cost us money," George ticked the list off on his fingers. "You start a fight and have our wall torn down. We start on the second wall, without your help, rain delays us. When we are about to start on it we have to go and pay another fine for you, and it rains again."

"You mean to say I'm in disgrace because of a few silly little things like that? Brothers are hard, heartless creatures."

"Especially if they eat you out of house and home." Said Grace icily.

"That's right, missus, especially if they eat....what have I done to you that you should treat me so cruelly?"

"Do you have all night for me to tell you?"

"Be quiet, woman." Ordered George. "Dickie, will you tell me, what were you doing with that barrow?"

"I decided it was time to go into business for myself." Said Dickie grandly helping himself to one of the plates of food. Grace just snorted.

"With old Willow's barrow?"

"It was a fine piece of workmanship."

"I know it was, about fifty years ago. Do you know he's been trying to sell that mess for years, everyone in the village said only a fool would buy it."

"Wait till he tries to use the money I paid him." Smiled Dickie filling his mouth to capacity.

"You gave him some coins from Hong Kong?"

"Junk, that's not a bad play on words." He smiled at his own cleverness. "Hong Kong, Orientals, junk, you get that, Charlie?" He chuckled.

"Yeah, mate, I got it."

"Worthless pieces of metal, I've been carrying them for years, best deal I ever made."

"Old Willow made a better one," said George pouring himself a cup of tea, "he sold a pile of junk for some pieces of metal, then he sold the metal to a coin collector in the next village and got five pounds for them."

"Why did you have to tell me that while I'm eating, you want to ruin my appetite?"

"Each!"

Dickie sat in a trance, his eyes diluted as he stared off into space.

"Each?"

"Each." George took a drink of his tea, Grace just snorted. "What did you pay him for the fish?"

"Nothing."

"The Malayan stuff?"

"Only a couple, little ones, not worth a farthing."

"He got ten pounds for them." Said George.

"Ten pounds?"

"Each." Said George.

"I feel ill." Dickie filled his mouth with food.

"He's going into business for himself." Cackled Grace.

"I've been done. That thieving, old....." He munched grimly on his food. "What kind of world is this, old men robbing innocent, young lads like myself of their family heirlooms?"

"Family heirlooms? You're joking?" Said Charlie.

"Let that be a lesson to you." Said George. "If you try to cheat people you deserve to be cheated."

"Cheat people? Me?"

"You thought you'd be clever, didn't you? You thought you could trick Lord Clumsy into paying for damaging some worthless rubbish."

"Lord Clumsy? Never heard of him." He began to fill his mouth again.

"Tripped and fell in the muck, didn't you? Ran into Clumsy when he wasn't clumsy."

"I couldn't understand that, George, the other day he nearly killed me and I was nowhere near him, today I'm practically standing on his head and nothing happens."

"That's because he was drunk."

"He was drunk?" Asked Dickie in surprise.

"When he's drunk he's perfectly normal, as far as clumsiness goes."

"You mean when he's drunk, he's not clumsy?"

"That's it, mate."

"Why didn't you tell me this before? Come along, missus, these plates are almost empty. I won't be in disgrace for much longer, you'll see." He smiled as he refilled his mouth.

Lee found that the nights were becoming monotonously dull at the Haddington mansion. It seemed that apart from a rare visit from some neighbours the only night-time occupation was bridge.

Occasionally he would attempt to see Cynthia alone, but Winterhaiming was constantly by her side. Haddington and even Cloud would give him discrete help but then Clarence would step in and keep her company.

If Cynthia saw any of this she made no sign of it.

"Go after her, boy, go after her." Haddington mumbled half to himself as he watched Winterhaiming escape the company of Cloud and take Clarence's place by Cynthia's side. Lee sat sipping a glass of wine as he exchanged a few words with Lady Marlebone who was fanning herself with a self-satisfied smile on her face. Sir Rupert had retired early as he had exhausted himself having one-way conversations with various inanimate objects.

"Does your boy always give up so easily?" Asked Haddington grumpily of Cloud who was pouring himself a drink.

"You say something, Clem?"

"I said does your boy always give up so easily? It's a wonder to me he's won any fights at all."

"Give up?" Cloud took up his glass to look at Lee and then across to Cynthia who was smiling and nodding her head slightly as Winterhaiming said something to her. "Oh, I see what you mean." Cloud took a long drink.

"Well, does he?"

"Ain't it the poets who talk about the course of true love not being smooth?"

"True love?" Haddington looked at Cloud as if he'd just said something disgusting. "Who's talking about true love? I was talking about two people who couldn't possibly be more suited to each other."

"You ain't referring to Reggie and Cynthia?"

"No, Mr Cloud, I ain't referring to Reggie and Cynthia." He said sarcastically.

"I'll tell you something, Clem," he drained his glass, "My boy can take a lot of battering, he can fight his way through a lot of rounds, and in the end he can finish off his opponent and still be able to dance around the ring. I've seen him do it."

"Yes, and I've seen him flat on his back after a few minutes with a certain opponent. A certain opponent, I might add, who looks like taking the prize without a whimper from your boy."

They both watched in silence as Winterhaiming and Cynthia strolled from the room arm in arm. Lee sat talking quietly to Lady Marlebone, he cast a quick glance at the departing pair but his face was blank.

Cloud returned to the table to refill his glass, Haddington looked over at Clarence who was sitting holding an empty glass. He looked smug, Haddington thought, he looked intolerably smug.

"Refill mine, if you please, Cloud." He handed his glass to Cloud who nodded. "Are you telling me that you're not aware how a certain struggle is going against your boy?" Asked Haddington when Cloud handed him his refilled glass.

"It looks bad, I know."

"It looks positively abominable."

"You could say that."

"I do say it."

"I've seen it too often, Clem, a fighter punchy and hanging on the ropes, his opponent ploughing in with punch after punch. The crowds telling themselves he's done, ain't nothing can save him, he hangs by the strength he's got in his arms on the ropes, and they're the only things keeping him up. Suddenly, he'll lift his head, he'll come alive, he'll hit back and his opponent will finish up unconscious."

"I don't see that working in the situation under discussion."

"Of course it does, I've seen it there too. It's just like boxing, it's the same scientific battle, the only difference is there ain't no referees and there ain't no time limit."

"I find that a quaint description of the relationship between men and women."

"Believe me, Clem, when it comes to men and women and what they do to each other, you're talking to the professor."

"Well, professor, how is this particular struggle going to turn out?"

"See that boy over there?" He pointed to Lee and Haddington nodded."That's the winner, it'll be a knock-out in the last round."

"Professor, I've always had the highest admiration for supreme optimism."

"Yeah, me too."

Lady Marlebone decided it was time for her to retire. She got to her feet and went over to Lord Haddington.

"Good-night, dear lady."

"It's wonderful, isn't it, Your Lordship?"

"Yes, dear lady, it is." He divined what she was talking about.

"It warms an old woman's heart to think how well her daughter has chosen for a companion in life."

"Your daughter has made a very wise choice, Lady Marlebone, I'm sure Two-Refs will make her very happy." Haddington was a little drunk, he knew who Lady Marlebone was talking about, but the nasty side of him was coming to the fore.

"Oh, I wasn't referring to that horrid American, I meant young Reggie."

"Of course, I should have known."

"Goodnight, Your Lordship."

"Goodnight." Haddington sat down heavily in a chair as she breezed out. Cloud and Lee soon followed Lady Marlebone, Haddington sat facing Clarence across the room. He drained his glass and refilled it.

"Why don't you join me, Clarence?"

The solicitor got up and came to take a seat beside the old man. Haddington had taken a cigar from his pocket and had snipped the end off. Clarence leaned forward to light it for him.

"A drink?" Asked Haddington.

"No, thank you, Your Lordship, it's a bit too late for me."

"As you wish." He took a long drink as Clarence watched him carefully.

"They make a lovely couple, don't they?"

Haddington nodded silently, then took a puff on his cigar. "By the way how is Sir Joseph's state at present?"

"The same as it's ever been." Replied Clarence.

"Up to his neck in debt?"

"If it's possible, even further."

"Then, that young lady had better be careful in her choice of a husband."

"I think she's made her choice, and a damned good one. I don't think there's a better man than young Reggie Winterhaiming."

"Yes." Said Haddington flatly as he took another drink.

"I rather flatter myself, Your Lordship, that you value and heed my advice and suggestions."

"And so I do, Clarence."

"May I make a suggestion, now, Your Lordship?"

"Of course."

"I think young Reggie is about to ask Cynthia to marry him, what a wonderful wedding present it would be if you were to publicly declare him to be your grandson."

Haddington seemed to be mulling that over as he sat smoking his cigar. Clarence waited in silence for some time before he spoke.

"I thought Saturday afternoon would be a good time."

"When the house is full of guests." Said Haddington calmly.

"That's right, Your Lordship, if I could drop a hint to Reggie I'm sure he could be induced to keep Cynthia's answer secret until then. We could make it a double announcement."

"You seem pretty certain she'll accept his proposal."

"There's no doubt about it, Your Lordship, the girl is obviously head over heels in love with him. You've only got to see them together, they're so charming, so....."

"Stop being so revolting." Haddington got to his feet and put his empty glass on the table to refill it, he stood smoking his cigar.

"If for some insane reason the young woman took it into her head to change her mind, it would be a tragedy, it would break her parent's hearts." Said Clarence.

"Sir Joseph is a tough....."

"Sir Joseph is like you, Your Lordship." Said Clarence firmly. "I know he may be a spendthrift and a fool with money, but he has a passion for his estate, his greatest wish is to leave his estate entirely intact for his beloved daughter."

"I could lend the fellow any amount......"

"He would look upon it as charity, you know how impossibly proud he is." Haddington stood in silence then drained his glass in a swift movement, then said: "You know, of course, that should she change her mind, her alternative is not completely without means."

"Boxing? Last Sunday we watched two gentlemen trying to bash each other's brains out, one of those chaps has been in the boxing business for ten years, he had to borrow his train fare home."

"And if that alternative happens to be my grandson?"

"Your Lordship could not make a more fatal error."

"Perhaps."

"All these two chaps are interested in is money, they'll get every penny they can from you, once the estate passes into their hands, they'll sell it for all they can get and go back to America."

"And Winterhaiming?"

"He is your rightful heir, he feels a sense of obligation to the estate, he told me so himself, he will not under any circumstances divide it or sell it. He believes he is justified in feeling that obligation, and I completely agree with him."

"You can agree with whatever you like and he can feel whatever he likes." Haddington refilled his glass, he ground his cigar in an ashtray on his right and took a long drink.

"With all due respect to you, Your Lordship, you're allowing sentiment to blind you."

"You've told me that before, Clarence."

"And I'll keep on telling you. These two men are criminals, confidence tricksters."

"Where's your proof?" Snapped Haddington.

"Proof?"

"Proof," Haddington snapped his fingers impatiently, "evidence, you know what evidence is?"

"At present I only have my instinct."

"Your instinct says they're criminals, my instinct tells me they're two fine fellows."

"There is a difference, Your Lordship, if I'm wrong then my instinct is at fault, but if you're wrong...."

Haddington drained his glass and stomped to the door as he spoke.

"Goodnight, Clarence, I'm tired of discussing this matter with you, my blood pressure always rises when I do so."

"If you keep drinking like that, I'm not surprised."

Haddington reached the door and stood with it open, he looked back with a blank expression on his face so that Clarence couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Goodnight, Clarence," he stepped out and suddenly caught the whiff of a familiar aroma, he stopped just outside the open door. "On second thought," he called back into the room, "I might just carry out your suggestion." He began to walk over to the stairs. Clarence appeared at the open doorway with a puzzled frown.

"Your Lordship?"

Haddington reached the stairs and stopped to look back.

"I think I'll announce on Saturday afternoon that Jerome Lee is my grandson. Something wrong?"

Clarence was peering off to his right. "I thought I heard something."

"Probably just a mind being changed. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Your Lordship." Clarence watched him ascend the stairs, he couldn't decide if Haddington was joking.

Lady Marlebone lay slumped on the floor in an alcove just off the main hallway, a half-burnt cigarette lay at her feet. She had heard everything.

Clarence finished his cigar and was just going to his room when he saw Gilmore carrying a tray on which perched a bottle of whisky.

"Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight."

Garth had sat there for hours staring out into the silent forest. It had been raining all night, now, for the first time it stopped.

The silence after the rain was unnerving and he found himself turning his head slowly from as far as he could see one side to as far as he could see the other. The house was in complete darkness but as he swung his head to the left he saw the door suddenly swing open out of the corner of his eye. He turned in his chair to look.

His eyes widened with shock, his mouth fell open and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He tried opening and closing his mouth a couple of times but nothing would come out.

In the darkness a form was slowly advancing on him, an axe was raised over its head, as it got closer he saw that it was Lord Haddington, he had a wild look in his eyes.

Garth sprang from the seat just as Haddington shattered it with the axe.

"Good evening, Your Lordship." Garth stood facing him and bowed, believing he knew something of the eccentric behaviour of his master and that somehow this would pacify him. Garth was wrong.

Haddington advanced on him and swung the axe but it sliced through thin air because Garth had wisely taken to his heels. He ran to one tree and stood there panting and shaking.

"Do something.......do something......" He gasped at the tree. "What do you mean what? You're a tree aren't you?" Suddenly Haddington jumped in front of him with the raised axe."I'm your......" the axe came down within inches of him to land in the trunk of the tree. "....gardener."

"You stupid lunatic," raved Haddington, "now you've got my brother talking to your ridiculous trees."

"I'll tell him to stop, Your Lordship."

The axe was raised again but by the time it fell, Garth was running, as he ran he realised someone was running beside him, he turned his head to see the corpse-like stranger, with the cloak and deerstalker hat. His mouth was wide open and his eyes threatened to pop from his head

As he ran Garth copied him, behind him he could hear one of his trees being chopped to pieces.

"There he is." Said Cloud.

"You stay here, Smoke, I'll fix him." Lee crept up on the occupied Haddington and tapped him on the shoulder, as the old man spun to look, Lee caught him with a right to the chin. "Smoke?" Whispered Lee as he propped the unconscious Haddington against the tree.

"Right here, you got him?" Cloud came walking over.

It took some time, but Garth's conscience had got the better of him and he came creeping back with a branch in his hand, looking about carefully for the stranger.

He saw a shape standing near one of his beloved trees, apparently resting before striking again, thought Garth, who sprang at it from behind and felled it with a clout to the head. He turned away well pleased with himself, suddenly someone stood in front of him.

He recognised the cloak and deerstalker hat, his mouth fell open, the whites of his eyes appeared and he fell forward in a swoon.

"What is it, Smoke?" Lee had Haddington over his shoulder and was walking back to the house with Cloud when the latter suddenly stopped.

"I thought I heard something."

"While I was tracking His Lordship, I kept hearing things, this forest would give anyone the creeps at this time of night."

"That's funny." Said Cloud

"What is?"

"Where's Clarence?"

"He must have gone back to the house."

"He may be old, but he can sure move."

The next morning it was a pale-faced, grumpy Lord Haddington nursing a sore head who sat in silence across from a pale-faced, grumpy Clarence who was also nursing a sore head.

Gilmore came in silently to put a fresh pot of tea on the table.

"Stop making so much confounded noise!" Roared Haddington who put his hands over his eyes and joined Clarence in a groan at his own noise.

"Sorry, sir."

"A tongue, sir....."

"Oh, no." Groaned Haddington and Clarence together.

Later in the morning Cloud found Lee sitting playing a friendly game of cards with Lady Marlebone.

"Two-Refs, pst." He said discretely from behind a marble column near the two. Lady Marlebone looked up to see Cloud smiling at her, she pointed to Lee and Cloud nodded, she put her hand on Lee's arm and he looked up, Cloud beckoned to him in silence.

Lee excused himself and followed Cloud from the room.

"I wanted to speak to you, Two-Refs." He whispered.

"Go ahead." Answered Lee also in a whisper.

"Do you know where Miss Marlebone is?"

"No."

"She's gone into the village."

"Good for her." He was about to return to the room when Cloud grabbed his arm.

"She's gone with Winterhaiming." He was still whispering.

"I'm glad she's got an escort."

"They're going to the church."

"Why are you whispering, Smoke?"

"Because....." He still held Lee by the arm, "never mind," he said in a normal voice. "Did you hear what I said about the church?"

"Yes, I heard." He was very calm.

"They're going to see the vicar. You know, the preacher? He performs things, funerals, christenings and.........."

"And weddings. So what?"

"You better shake a leg, boy, or....or....."

"Or what?" He faced Cloud calmly, his manager stood before him and scratched his head.

"I had a fair idea you were dense, boy."

"You interrupted my card game, Smoke."

"Oh, yeah, sure."

Lee returned calmly to the room while Cloud took out a cigarette, he walked away mumbling to himself and shaking his head.

"Ah, how pleasant." Smiled Lady Marlebone as Gilmore brought in a tray of tea and placed it on a table near an open window. "Shall I pour?" She asked as Gilmore discretely withdrew.

"I'd appreciate that." Said Lee relaxed and calm as he sat on the window sill.

"You must tell me about America sometime, Mr Lee." She poured a cup, "it sounds such a fascinating place, so uncouth and unciv...." She turned to find an empty window sill. "Mr Lee?" She asked in amazement as she looked about the room. "Mr Lee?"

He was running even before his feet touched the ground, he ran to the front of the house to see Clarence and Haddington just climbing into a carriage. He jumped in knocking Clarence to the floor.

"Rogers, go straight to the village, hurry." He ordered.

The carriage lurched off and Clarence slid across the floor to thump against the seat.

"Oh, my head."

"We're not going to the damned village," said Haddington grumpily, "that nitwit of a brother of mine has gone there, we're going in the opposite direction."

"I should say we are." Panted Clarence as Lee helped him into a seat.

"I would appreciate it, Your Lordship, if you would let me off at the village and then you could go on to where-ever you please."

"No, my boy, you're asking far too much of me, I have had ten minutes of his company today and that is surely too long for one day."

"Your Lordship is absolutely right." Said Clarence holding his head.

"What is so important that you must go straight to the village anyway?"

"I have my reasons."

"Oh, very well, very well. Rogers!" He turned in his seat to speak to the driver as the carriage sped along.

"Yes, Your Lordship?"

"Go straight to the village."

"To the church." Put in Lee.

"To the church." Amended Haddington. "And if you should happen to see Sir Rupert along the way I want you to try very hard to run him down."

"Yes, Your Lordship."

"That has cheered me up." Said Haddington with what looked like a smile on his lips.

The morning was cold with gusts of wind now and again. The sky was covered with dark clouds but it had stopped raining the night before and it was a dry day.

Dickie stood stamping his feet and rubbing his hands together. He stood in a small, side street with another barrow piled high with clothing. He glanced at it just as another gust of wind blew in his face. He closed his eyes as he caught the smell of the clothes and quickly walked to the other corner.

He stood mumbling to himself about that last old fool who seemed determined to make a pest of himself, continually repeating everything just as he'd done when he'd ordered Dickie and his brothers off the Haddington estate.

"What have you got here, what have you got here?"

Dickie was mumbling, 'clothes.' I said. 'What have you got here, hey, what have you got here?' 'Clothes,' I said. Wasted me bleedin' breath. 'I can see they're clothes, young man, but what is a lowly character like yourself doing with such high class material?' A real bleedin' comedian. He even had me repeatin' meself, he even had me repeatin'.'

Dickie walked up and down a few times and then stood with a puzzled frown.

"I think he was jokin'." He said. "I think he was jokin'." He was looking back at the clothes as a carriage clattered by. He went to the edge of the corner and peeked around; it was Haddington's carriage alright.

He was about to walk down the main street when he realised someone might pinch his barrow, he went over to a small boy standing at a shop window.

"You want a penny, son?"

"Yeah, mister."

"See that barrow over there, you watch if for me, make sure no-one pinches anything and I'll give you a penny."

"No-one will touch that, mister, its old Olsen's junk, he's been trying to pay people to take it. You would have to be a mug to want it." He smiled knowingly.

"Why, you cheeky little....." He had his clenched fist held just above the boy's head when he spotted what looked like the boy's mother standing in a doorway with her arms folded on her chest watching him.

"He's a fine lad, missus," he patted the boy on the head, "a fine lad."

"With a father who doesn't take kindly to some overgrown lout hitting him over the head."

"Nor would I, missus, nor would I." Dickie ambled away down the street. "He probably wants to keep that pleasure for himself." He mumbled. He reached the end of the street to lean against a corner shop wall and look across at the carriage outside the front of the church.

"Where is the confounded boy?" Snapped Haddington.

"We've delivered him to the church, Your Lordship, perhaps we can be on our way." Said Clarence.

"There's no need to rush off, surely, I expect he shouldn't be that much longer."

"Sir Rupert....." Began Clarence.

"Sir Rupert! Rogers, drive on, drive on."

"I was about to say, Sir Rupert could be nearby."

"YOUR LORDSHIP!" Came a roar.

"The vicar. Hold up, Rogers."

The vicar came from the side of the church to get up on the step of the carriage.

"GOOD MORNING, YOUR LORDSHIP, MR CLARENCE." He roared. Clarence held his head and Haddington closed his eyes as he put two fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"Perhaps we could walk a little." Said Haddington in an effort to distance the bellow from his ear.

"Capital idea, capital." Said Clarence.

The three got down from the carriage to walk across the square toward where Dickie stood with his arms folded on his chest.

"It was a lovely surprise to see Your Lordship, I had intended to visit you later today."

"With regard to what, vicar?"

"Oh, it was not important." He smiled.

"We've just dropped Mr Lee off at the church, did you happen to see him, vicar?" Asked Clarence.

A man came out of a side door carrying a tray of pies in his hands and headed toward the three figures, Dickie watched with interest.

"No, I didn't. But I did see Miss Marlebone and Mr Winterhaiming. Such a charming couple."

"Did you?" Asked Haddington, as he walked on with bowed head. A carriage came thundering by, just missing the man with the tray, who continued on as he looked after it, shaking his fist, he was walking toward Lord Haddington.

All three had their heads down, Dickie put a hand over his eyes. The man with the tray drew closer, Haddington continued staring at the ground as he walked on. Then at the last moment the old man ducked his head and the tray passed safely over as the pieman was still angrily shaking a fist.

Clarence was just lighting a cigar as the vicar caught sight of the pieman who threatened to walk into Haddington's carriage.

"YOU SIR!" He bellowed in warning and startled Clarence who dropped his cigar.

Dickie waited with bated breath as Clarence groped on the ground for his cigar, Haddington was continuing on, two more steps and he would step on Clarence's hand. Dickie brought his hand up to cover his eyes again, but Haddington simply stepped over Clarence's hand without missing a beat.

"That settles it," thought Dickie, "today he ain't Lord Clumsy." He decided to go back for his barrow, he even had time to drop in at the pub with such a good name, for a drink or two. "There's always tomorrow." He thought as he smiled to himself.

"Why were they here, vicar?" Asked Clarence as he lit his cigar.

"Oh, it wasn't anything important."

"Your day seems to be just full of things that are not important, vicar." Snapped Haddington testily.

"So a great many people believe, Your Lordship." He answered with a smile. He accompanied them back to the carriage.

The carriage rumbled down the main street and as it passed Dickie he raised his hat, Haddington acknowledged it absently. Dickie was smiling and as he pushed the barrow along he hummed to himself.

"Vicar." Lee found the vicar on the front step.

"Hello, Mr Lee."

"I was just looking for you, sir."

"Were you indeed?" Smiled the vicar.

"Where is Miss Marlebone?"

"She's gone. She was here with her gentleman friend, such a lovely chap,"

"They discussed something with you?"

"They did, and I think it's wonderful."

"What date did they set?"

"Well, they haven't exactly set a time, but I believe they'll be making an announcement in a couple of days.

"Saturday." Mumbled Lee to himself.

"That would be so."

"Where did they go, vicar?"

"I believe they were on their way to the next village, in that direction." He pointed up the main street in the direction Haddington's carriage was travelling. Lee ran down the steps. "I say, you're not the best man they were talking about, are you?" Called the vicar.

"No, I am not." Called Lee over his shoulder as he ran as quickly as he could, he had to catch up with that carriage.

Dickie did a little dance of joy as he reached the pub. He turned the barrow with difficulty to face the street side on, and prepared to push it over to the pub itself.

"Get out of my way!"

Dickie looked up and the smile disappeared from his lips. "Oh oh." His mouth fell open. He pulled the barrow one way and found Lee changing course to head for him, he pushed it forward only to find Lee changing his course again to head for him.

Dickie pulled back with all his might, but he pulled too hard, he backed across the small footpath and as Lee shot past he fell backwards through the display window of the shoe shop, the barrow came halfway into the shop with him.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" Asked the owner as he stood over Dickie who lay on his back.

"What's the idea of puttin' that window in people's way?" Demanded Dickie.

"What is that dreadful smell?" The owner took out his handkerchief to cover his nose.

"That's good honest sweat, mate, try working for a living and you'll see what I mean."

"It smells like rubbish."

"Rubbish?" Dickie struggled to his feet. "Rubbish? You poor, deluded fool, it's just as well your trade is shoes, mate, you'd be lost in the clothing trade."

"It smells like that revolting stuff of Olsen's."

"It's from the city, mate, best quality stuff."

"What's this?" Someone stood outside at the barrow holding up a filthy shirt. "Is someone selling this rubbish?"

"Get your hands off that, mate, that's good quality stuff, straight from the city. Too expensive for the likes of you, only a toff would want this stuff."

"I'd say only a mug would want it."

"This is old man Olsen's rubbish." Said another man stopping at the barrow.

"Quality is something beyond poor twits like you, if you can't see good stuff when it's right in front of your eyes, you shouldn't......" Dickie pulled the shirt away. "Oh, good morning, constable."

"For Heaven's sake," said the owner, "get this horrible muck out of here, the smell is starting to curl my shoes."

"Maybe you should change your socks." Said Dickie.

"Come along, Mr Dobkins."

"I can explain all this, constable.

"I'm sure you can, sir."

"That's absolutely amazing, Sir Rupert, how can so much adventure and excitement be compressed into one life?"

"My friends say it's a wonder my hair hasn't turned white, they do, my friends, they say it's a wonder my hair hasn't turned white."

"You haven't got any hair, Sir Rupert."

"Not now, no, I've lost it all, it's all fallen out, fallen out."

"Because of loose living." Called Dickie from the dock.

"That's right, because of loose living......no, that's not right, no, not loose living. I've never lived loose in my life."

"I shouldn't have opened my mouth." Said a bored Dickie half to himself.

The magistrate had invited Sir Rupert to be a guest on the bench, but every time Sir Rupert spoke he and the magistrate would have a half an hour of conversation, mostly about Sir Rupert's crowded life. Dickie would lean down with his chin on the railing of the dock.

"Ah, yes, Mr Dobkins," smiled the magistrate, "you'll find Mr Dobkins a very interesting fellow, Sir Rupert."

"Dobkins, Dobkins, who is Mr Dobkins, who is this fellow, Dobkins, hey, who is he?"

"I'm Mr Dobkins." Called Dickie impatiently.

"He's not violent is he, I say, I hope he's not the violent type, terrible people they are, violent people, terrible."

"I'm not violent." Called Dickie. "At least I wasn't before I came in here."

"Now, now, Mr Dobkins, Sir Rupert was merely making an observation."

"Your honour, couldn't you just fine me and send me on my way, then Sir Rupert can make all the observations he wants, all the observations....what am I saying?"

"We haven't ascertained whether you're guilty or not, Mr Dobkins."

"I'm guilty, your honour."

"Guilty? Of everything?"

"Yes." Dickie bowed his head.

"You broke Mr Chandler's window?"

"Yes, I did."

"Why did you do that, Mr Dobkins?"

"I took a dislike to it, I thought it was ugly, misshapen."

"Oh, dear me." The magistrate shook his head.

"May I make an observation?" Asked Sir Rupert, who carried on without waiting for a reply. "Mr Dobkins, you said the window was ugly and misshapen?"

"Yes, Sir Rupert."

"You took a dislike to it and felt it had to be destroyed, you said?"

"Yes." Dickie bowed his head again.

"It's just a thought, but I wonder if you reacted the way you did because you saw a reflection of yourself in the window?"

"Charming, oh, that's charming." Dickie was nodding his head with suppressed anger.

"Are you agreeing with Sir Rupert's observation, Mr Dobkins?"

"I'd have to be a marvel if I did, I backed into the window, I must have eyes in the back of me bleedin' head."

"He's using bad language," gasped Sir Rupert, "he's using bad language."

"You keep irritating me, old man, and you'll hear bad language."

"I say, I say." Said a startled Sir Rupert.

"Mr Dobkins," the magistrate was shaking his head, "Mr Dobkins, I am very disappointed in you, and you a Buddhist, too."

"I'm sorry, your honour," Dickie hung his head as a suitable display of contrition, "I lost control of myself."

"I should say you did. It won't happen again, will it?"

"No, your honour,"

"A vicious animal," Sir Rupert was saying, "a violent man who uses filthy language, look at him ready to spring across the room at us." Dickie raised his eyebrows then looked over one shoulder and then the other, "shouldn't he be manacled to that railing?"

"There's no need to fear, Sir Rupert, Mr Dobkins may be many things but he's not violent."

"Thank you, your honour," beamed Dickie, then he thought it over, "I think."

"Mr Dobkins, are you saying that you backed into Mr Chandler's window by accident?"

"Yes, your honour."

"Why did you say you were guilty?"

Dickie thought that over for a few seconds. "Because I didn't understand the question, your honour."

"You must tell me when you don't understand a question, Mr Dobkins, if you don't understand the question, you must not answer it."

"Yes, your honour."

"A fool," said Sir Rupert, "the man's a complete fool."

"He's certainly enlivening the proceedings isn't he?" Asked Dickie half to himself.

"Now, Mr Dobkins, you accidentally damaged Mr Chandler's window?"

"Yes, your honour."

"And naturally, you'll make full restitution for all the damages?"

"Absolutely, your honour,"

"Good, good, well, we've got that settled."

"I'll say good day to you, sir." Dickie gave his blessing and turned to go.

"Mr Dobkins?"

"Your honour?"

"Are you going somewhere?"

"I thought I'd drop over to the pub.....I must go out to visit the trees and animals, your honour, my religion, you know."

"We're not finished yet, Mr Dobkins."

"There's more?" Grimaced Dickie.

"Oh, dear me, yes, lots more." The magistrate turned to Sir Rupert, "I said he'd be a very interesting chap, didn't I?"

"A fool, the fellow's a complete and utter fool."

"We've got to find out why you had a barrow of foul-smelling rags, Mr Dobkins."

"They weren't what you'd call foul –smelling nor rags, your honour." Said Dickie proudly."Good quality stuff, your honour, fit for a king."

"Constable?"

"Your honour." The constable stood to attention.

"What was on Mr Dobkin's barrow?"

"I wouldn't call it foul-smelling rags, your honour."

"There you are." Smiled Dickie.

"I'd call it a load of filthy muck, the smell is still there now, your honour, when Mr Chandler and his assistant tried to enter the shop they both passed out and had to be dragged to safety, all of Mr Chandler's stock was ruined, the signs and a calendar on his walls all curled up and turned a strange green colour."

"The constable may have gotten my barrow mixed up with someone else's barrow, your honour."

"The load seems to have belonged to a farmer Olsen, he was warned some time ago to remove it from his land, Mr Dobkins here appears to have purchased it from him."

"You don't mean to say you paid money for that load?" Asked the magistrate.

"He wouldn't take sea shells." Said Dickie. 'Only a couple of useless coins from Singapore.' He thought and chuckled silently.

"Oh, dear me, Mr Dobkins, dear me." The magistrate shook his head and had a chuckle, the recorder joined in, then most of those present in the courtroom, except Sir Rupert.

"The man's a fool, a complete and utter fool."

"You not only had this load of rags, Mr Dobkins," said the magistrate wiping tears of laughter from the eyes, "you were selling it without a permit."

"Well, yes and no, Your honour."

"I've told you to tell me if you don't understand a question, haven't I?"

"Yes, your honour."

"I hope you'll let me tell you if I don't happen to understand an answer?"

"You go right ahead, your honour. "

"I don't understand your answer, Mr Dobkins."

"There should be no difficulty, your honour."

"Perhaps, I'm just a little dense."

"Quite alright, your honour, you wouldn't be a magistrate if you weren't." Dickie leaned forward to carry on quickly. "You see I have a permit and I wasn't selling anything."

"You have a permit?"

"I do your honour."

"Where is it, sir, I have your permit to sell fish but not your permit to sell clothes."

"Permit to sell clothes?"

"Yes."

"You need a permit to sell clothes."

"Yes."

"A permit to sell fish doesn't cover that?"

"No."

Dickie thought that over. "Well, I didn't get a permit to sell clothes, because I didn't sell clothes."

The magistrate turned to Sir Rupert. "You'll find this very interesting, Sir Rupert."

"I doubt it, I doubt it very much."

"Well, Mr Dobkins?"

"It's my religion, your honour."

"I thought as much."

"Yes." Dickie did his blessing act. "You see, today is a special day."

"Another special day?"

"We call it the giving forth of clothing to our brothers."

"And this entailed what exactly?"

"To show our nobility and generosity of soul it is required that we give all the clothing we possess to anyone we happen to meet."

"And you just happened to meet Mr Chandler?"

"Yes, your honour, that's right." Beamed Dickie.

'And what if your brother doesn't want the clothing?"

"Ah, well, now that's his problem, if he were a Buddhist he'd give it to his brother."

"Quite a picturesque little religion, isn't it?"

"I think so, your honour."

"Reminds me of an encounter I had in Singapore some time ago," said Sir Rupert, "In Singapore it was. A couple of rough characters took it into their heads to rob me, must have taken me for some simpleton."

'Can't blame them there.' Thought Dickie."Your honour?" He said.

"Two of them, Sir Rupert?" Asked the magistrate turning his head to listen with interest.

"Yes, only two, made it equal," smiled Sir Rupert, "made it equal, you see."

"Two of them against one of you?" Asked the magistrate.

"Your honour?" Dickie stifled a yawn.

"They overlooked the fact that I happened to be carrying my cane."

"It must have been a terrible experience for you, Sir Rupert."

"It was, old boy, it was, I can tell you."

"Your honour, couldn't you just fine me and I'll be on my way?" Called a bored Dickie.

"Ten pounds, Mr Dobkins." He said looking at Dickie and then back to Sir Rupert. "And you managed to fight them off?"

"Thank you, your honour," smiled Dickie with a wave of his hand he turned to go. "Ten....ten......"

"Bashed their brains out, bash, bash. Made a horrible mess on my cane."

"Something wrong, Mr Dobkins?"

"I was talking about a fine, your honour, not bankruptcy."

"You damaged Mr Chandler's window, Mr Dobkins, and a great deal of his stock."

"What kind of stock was it, gold?"

"With your honour's permission?" Chandler stood up in the well of the court.

"Yes, Mr Chandler?" Sir Rupert had fallen asleep with his eyes open.

"It's obvious to me that Mr Dobkins is some poor half-wit with very little money."

"Mr Chandler seems to have excellent vision, absolutely excellent." Said Sir Rupert coming awake suddenly.

"The court won't argue with Mr Chandler."

"Thank you, your honour," Chandler bowed, "so, the way I see it, I'll have to pay for all the damage myself."

"The court won't argue with that." Said Dickie as he bowed in imitation of Mr Chandler.

"Mr Dobkins," said the magistrate calmly, "I do hope you're not treating this business with levity?"

"Absolutely not, your honour."

"It's a very serious matter, this destruction of private property at your hands, which you seem unable to control." Dickie gave his blessing and bowed his head in shame. "You were saying, Mr Chandler?"

"With the court's permission I believe Mr Dobkins could give me so many hours a day to work in my shop to allay some of the costs."

"That seems to be an excellent idea, how does that suit you, Mr Dobkins?"

"I must apologise to the court, I am pressed for time. I shall only be here a short time, then I must return to London, I have a very heavy season ahead of me."

"Mr Dobkins, it seems to me you have three choices. Pay the damages, comply with Mr Chandler's scheme or....."

"Or, your honour?"

"Go to jail."

Dickie thought that over for a short time then smiled at Mr Chandler. "Would three hours a day be sufficient, Mr Chandler?"

"I'd be satisfied with that....."

"So would I." Dickie was starting his blessing.

"For the next three months."

"It's the window and stock I ruined," called Dickie, "I didn't tear down the whole building."

"Mr Dobkins....." Said the magistrate.

"It was only a small window at that, and only a couple of pairs of shoes."

"Mr Dobkins, would six months in jail be more suitable?"

"Your honour does have a sense of humour."

"So I've been told."

Dickie was smiling crookedly. "Three months, you said Mr Chandler?" He asked.

"Yes."

"I think I can do that."

"That is nice, Mr Dobkins," smiled the magistrate.

"Well, I'll be off then." He waved and turned to go.

"Mr Dobkins?"

"Mr Chandler is waiting for me, your honour."

"We've not finished here."

"We're not?"

"There's this little matter of a public nuisance."

"He seems to be asleep, your honour." Murmured Dickie.

"Pardon, Mr Dobkins?"

"I was just asking the court's forgiveness, your honour."

"And this court willingly gives it to you."

"Thank you, Your Honour," he bowed, gave his blessing and turned to go.

"Mr Dobkins?"

"Something else, Your Honour?" Dickie returned to the dock.

"The court thinks that you are aware of the seriousness of your position."

"I am, Your Honour, I am."

"It believes you're making a sincere effort to restore the damage you've done. That you'll not appear in this court ever again on charges of being a public nuisance, or trading without a permit."

"The court need have no fear of that, Your Honour." Dickie gave his blessing.

"That's why I've decided to be lenient with you."

"Is it absolutely necessary for the court to be lenient with me?" Dickie leaned on the dock with a bored expression.

"Would two pounds be lenient enough for you, Mr Dobkins?"

"Two pounds is just about all the leniency I can afford for today, Your Honour."

"I am pleased."

"Thank you, Your Honour."

The constable was leading him from the dock.

"That man! That man there, I know him!" Roared Sir Rupert suddenly and everyone in the court froze. Sir Rupert pointed at Dickie. "The fellow's a ruffian, an overgrown bully, he wouldn't let me examine his wares this morning, he threatened me with bodily violence. Arrest that fellow."

"Sir Rupert, we've already dealt with Mr Dobkins." Soothed the magistrate.

"I hope you threw the book at him, that's what I hope, you threw the book at him."

"Constable," murmured Dickie softly, "is murder a serious crime in this area?"

"It is, sir."

"More serious than what I was charged with this morning?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then, constable, get me out of this court before I do something more serious than what I was charged with this morning."

"This way, if you please, sir."

A plan was worked out with Chandler between him and Dickie's brothers. Dickie would go to his shop every day after dinner.

Three very grim brothers came walking back home in the afternoon.

"Two pounds ain't bad." Said Dickie suddenly. George stopped and stood looking at him. "Is it?" Then George sprung at his throat.

"George!" Charlie grappled with him as Dickie's face turned purple.

"Tomorrow, at first light," gasped George, "we are going to start on the wall, we will finish it before dinner time."

"Keep this up," panted Dickie, "and the only thing you'll be doing at first light is burying me."

"Don't think that hasn't crossed my mind." Said George as Charlie dragged him away. "I warn you Richard."

"Do you, George?" Dickie was rubbing his throat.

"One more interruption or one more unnecessary expense because of you, and you will be buried at first light, alive."

"While you're shovelling dirt on me, I'll be shovelling dirt on that American." Dickie narrowed his eyes as he visualised the pleasure he'd feel.

"You've been warned, Richard."

"Yes, George."

"Next time Charlie won't stop me."

"No, George."

They continued on their way.

Haddington was at a loss. He sat stroking Miss Blackie as she sat at his side purring. He was watching Lady Marlebone playing bridge with Lee, Cloud and Clarence. Cynthia and Winterhaiming had gone off to stroll arm in arm. They were up to something, he thought grimly, they had done a lot of mysterious whispering and laughing.

He had caught sight of Lee watching them, his face blank and to all appearances uninterested. Haddington couldn't understand it, had his plan gone astray so badly? Lady Marlebone should have been doting over Lee, she wasn't. Cynthia, under orders from her mother, should have been hanging on every word Lee spoke, yet she had become inseparable from that tiresome, Haddington winced as he thought of the word, Winterhaiming.

There was something else he had noticed, it was Cynthia, she was different, stronger more her own boss, quite attractive really.

Haddington had no idea of the scene between mother and daughter early that morning where Lady Marlebone had indeed laid down the law with her new instructions.

She faced another Cynthia, a Cynthia that left her mother speechless with amazement.

"What did you say, my girl?" She demanded as soon as she got her voice back.

"I said that you should mind your own business, mother, I know what I'm doing."

The night passed as monotonously as the others. Haddington did not suffer any indisposition.

Friday morning dawned bright and sunny but cold. A bleary-eyed Dickie hung between his two brothers who were supporting him.

"We've got a busy day before us." Said George grimly as they dragged Dickie out to the half-finished wall.

"You said at first bleedin' light, it's still dark." Muttered Dickie.

"Open your eyes." Ordered George.

"Alright they're open, it's still dark."

"It's light enough to work by." Said Charlie.

Lee was on his morning run when he spotted Marlowe, he was sitting under a tree smoking his pipe as he wrote in a small notebook.

"Morning." Said Lee as he sat down beside him.

"Good morning, Lee, it looks like being a beautiful day."

"Yes."

"Would you like a drink? Only water I'm afraid." He held up a flask.

"Thanks, I'm surprised to see you here today, I thought you only came here on the week-ends."

"Annual holidays, old boy."

Lee took the flask and had a drink. "Did you find your net?"

"I did as a matter of fact," he held up the pole with pieces of netting hanging from the end, "a bit of a mess, I'm afraid, it looks as if something got caught in it and clawed its way free."

"Yes." Lee looked at it.

"Lord Haddington has a new guest?"

"Has he?"

"I've seen his boot prints in the trees, usually close to the house."

"I wonder who he is." Mused Lee.

"Don't you know?"

"No, some of our people thought they saw someone at the windows, it must be him."

"How strange." Murmured Marlowe.

"I thought you said there were no secrets in the area?"

"It may have no connection, but there has been a stranger in the village asking questions about you and your friend, Cloud."

"Who is he?"

"I don't know and nor does anyone in the village, a queer looking chap by all accounts, a dark cloak and a deerstalker cap."

"What sort of questions did he ask?"

"I have no idea, I've not seen him, I've only heard it at second hand."

"If it's the same fellow, he gave the people at the house quite a fright when they saw him."

"According to the villagers who've seen him, he is a bit of a frightful sight."

"My lads have seen him, he's like a walking corpse."

Lee and Marlowe looked at each other and then looked up. Garth was laying flat on a branch looking down at them.

"Good morning, Mr Garth." Said Marlowe.

"Morning." He swung down to pick up the flask and held it up to Marlowe, "do you mind?"

"Help yourself."

In quick gulps Garth emptied the flask.

"Did you say your lads have seen him?" Asked Lee.

"Yeah." He spotted Marlowe's sandwiches.

"Would you like.....a sandwich?" Asked Marlowe as Garth reached down to take a bite from one.

"No thanks." He munched on it merrily until he spotted the net. "Useless," he kicked at it, "those ruddy things are useless."

"What did your...." Lee gave a lopsided grin to Marlowe, "lads say about this fellow?"

"They don't like him, he frightens 'em," he finished the sandwich and picked up another, "now, Wobert, he's terrified of him, can't sleep at night sometimes."

"Wobert?" Asked Marlowe.

Garth stopped munching on his sandwich and cocked his head to one side as he looked at Marlowe. "Something wrong with your mouth?"

"You said Wobert."

"I didn't say Wobert, I said Wobert."

"Oh."

"Twit." Muttered Garth as he returned to his sandwich. "Poor Woger," he shook his head, "now he's very scared of this chap."

"Who is he?" Asked Lee.

"He's one of my oldest lads, he's a big fella, just up that way...."

"Not Woger."

"Woger?" Asked Garth.

"I mean Roger, who is this stranger?"

"How should I know." Garth finished the sandwich, he looked down and pointed to the last sandwich left. "You want that?" He asked Marlowe.

"Yes, I do."

"Thanks." He picked it up to munch on it.

"Mr Garth, you mean to say this stranger has been terrifying your.....lads and they don't know who he is?" Asked Lee.

"No, they don't. Probably a ghost, come back to haunt the forest, a long dead woodchopper or something."

"I don't think it's a ghost," said Marlowe, "this fellow leaves footprints and questions people in the village."

"Ghosts are funny things, I know, they appear in cafes, they look like you and me, order food, eat it and disappear without paying." Said Garth.

"I've met ghosts like that, in fact a few of my friends are ghosts." Said Lee.

"Told you." Said Garth as he finished off the sandwich.

"I'd appreciate it, Mr Garth, if your lads learn anything you'd let me know." Said Lee.

"You think you could take your arm off Eddy's leg?" Lee looked where his arm was resting on the root of a tree, he shifted it, "good lad, he suffers cramp in that leg. It doesn't help some ruddy lump putting his muscle-bound limb on him."

"No, I suppose not."

"Cucumber." Garth shook his head at Marlowe, "nasty stuff, next time make it something different, I'll have indigestion all day now."

"Really?" Said Marlowe haughtily.

"It's too late to say you're sorry, you should have told me before I ate 'em."

"Before you made a pig of yourself."

"That's right." Garth was walking away then stopped. "I'll tell you one thing my lads told me. You mark my words, there's going to be a wedding at the old Lord's house before too long."

"A wedding?" Asked Marlowe.

"Whose wedding?" Asked Lee.

"I don't know any ruddy names, my lads don't pry into things that don't concern 'em, all Jack would say was, tiresome, tiresome, then he laughed, silly lump. Good day, gentlemen." He strode off.

"What on earth does he mean?" Asked Marlowe.

"Beats me," he got to his feet, "thanks for the drink."

"Don't mention it."

Lee took off to run back to the house.

"The man is a greedy pig, an uncouth greedy pig," snapped Marlowe, suddenly a branch fell from above to land on him, "what the......"

Then there was a shower of branches that left him buried.

Dickie leaned up against the house, he was half asleep.

"It's hard to believe," Charlie was saying, "the bleedin' thing's finished."

"Keep Dickie away from it." Said George.

"Are you satisfied now?" Demanded Dickie as they came up to him, "maybe you'd like it painted."

"Now, there's a good idea." Smiled Charlie as he looked at George. Dickie looked at him with narrowed bleary eyes.

"Mr Chandler's waiting for you, you better be on your way." Ordered George.

"What about dinner?'

"Oh, yeah, here." He handed Dickie a piece of bread from his pocket.

"What's this supposed to be?"

"Your dinner."

"You're joking?"

"There's no need to be so harsh, George." Said Grace coming out of the house, "Richard has worked very hard he deserves a good dinner."

"Thanks, missus." Smiled Dickie.

"Here you are." She handed him a second piece of bread.

"Missus," said a shattered Dickie, "all the affection and all the respect I've showered on you, and you do this to me." He looked glumly at the bread then ate it quickly with his feet shuffling the dust as he shambled off.

"Come back here," ordered Grace, "despite all this affection and respect you've showered on me, your dinner is inside."

"Missus," Dickie raced back to grab her hand to kiss it.

"I can always change my mind." She said sternly, Dickie dropped her hand and stepped back hurriedly.

"Come on." George slapped him on the shoulder and with a smile led him into the house. Charlie looked at the wall, sighed with satisfaction and followed them.

Dickie wore a satisfied grin on his face as he walked into the village whistling merrily after a hearty lunch with plenty of liquid refreshment.

He came down a side street and his smile slipped a little as he passed the figure of a man laying unconscious on the ground receiving aid from a few of his friends. He reached the corner and found the scene repeated.

"The winds' shifted." Came a call from the main street, Dickie reached the edge of the footpath and looked up the street as a crowd of men came running down.

"You'd best get out of here, mate." Said one of them to Dickie as he was taken up in the throng.

"Why is that, mate?" Smiled Dickie.

"The stink from Chandler's shop is blowing this way now."

"Drove us away from the pub." Said another one angrily. "I reckon the bloke that did that should be strung up by his thumbs."

"Yeah, yeah." Agreed those around him grimly.

"Yeah." Said Dickie with a worried grin.

"Just the man I've been looking for." A strong hand grabbed Dickie about the shoulders and dragged him from the crowd.

"Good afternoon, constable." He smiled and saw Chandler standing there also. "Mr Chandler."

"Will you look at what you've done?" Chandler pointed up the street at the disappearing crowd. "You put that mess in my shop, now you can clear it out. No one can get near it."

"Supposing I can't get near it, what if I pass out?"

"You won't pass out, sir." Said the constable.

"How can you be so sure?"

"If you did you'd have to face the magistrate again, Sir Rupert is still with him."

"Just a moment, Dobkins." Called Chandler as Dickie set off toward the shop.

"Yes?"

"How did you propose to shift the stuff?"

"Me barrow's still there."

"You have to clear out all the stock as well." Chandler signalled down the street and a horse-drawn cart rumbled up. "This is Mr Mason's cart," an old man smoking a pipe got down to hand the reins to Dickie, "I've hired it for the day, I want you to put everything in it and take it out to Clarke's farm, he has an incinerator and will burn the lot."

"Right." Dickie got up as old Mason strode ahead and turned to smoke on his pipe as he watched in silence.

"Don't be all day about it."

"Right." Dickie flicked the horse with the reins, it whinnied, reared up and sped off, the front of the cart came loose and left Dickie sitting in surprise as the reins slipped through his hands. Mason calmly caught the horse and walked it back.

"You have to watch the pin, it's a bit loose." Said Mason working the horse back in and handing Dickie the reins.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"You didn't ask."

"Why don't you fix it?"

"I know it's loose, why should I bother to fix it?"

"I had to ask didn't I?" Said Dickie impatiently as he gently tapped the horse and it ambled off.

"Good luck, mate." Called a man standing in one of the side streets.

"Yeah, thanks." Nodded Dickie.

"Goodbye." Called another.

"When I come back, mate, I'll be looking for you."

"I'm safe then." He smiled.

As he got closer Dickie began to get a whiff of the smell, he felt dizzy, he began to nod in the seat.

"Sir Rupert, Sir Rupert." He said to wake himself up and his head began to clear instantly, he took out his handkerchief and tied it around his mouth so that he looked like a bandit.

He pulled up outside the shop, his barrow still stuck out with the pile of rags, here and there a bird or a butterfly lay on their backs, their wings stuck out flat.

"That'll teach you lot," he went around to the front of the horse, "why hasn't it affected you? I said, why......." The horse stood with its eyes closed, "never mind."

He went into the shop and came upon a man laying unconscious on his back. Dickie went over to prod him in the stomach with the toe of his boot.

"Hey, mate," he called, but the figure didn't stir, "a looter, hey? You've certainly learnt a lesson, the constable will be very interested in you."

He left the man and went over to look at the pile of rags. "Blimey." He said as he caught the full smell. He took up the rags by the armful and carried them out to the cart. Once he'd done that he looked at the stock, most of the shoes were twisted all out of shape, except one or two pair, he sat on a chair and tried some on.

"He'll never miss 'em." Smiled Dickie. Suddenly the shoes that seemed to be untouched on the shelves sprang into the air and fell to pieces, he looked down at the shoes on his feet and they did the same, so that a few strips of leather were all that remained. He felt the chair under him wobble but he wasn't quick enough and it too fell to pieces dropping him to the ground.

Dickie got up and put his own shoes back on and tried to clear up the mess as best he could. He carried out the bits and pieces to put on the cart.

The store had been cleaned out of just about everything and Dickie stood at the front of the cart with his hands on his hips. He heard a groan from the shop and he looked over. The figure sat up with his back to Dickie.

"Where am I? Where in the name of Heaven am I," he looked up at a shadow on the wall, "well, speak up, sir, haven't you got a tongue?"

"Oh, no." Groaned Dickie and spun around quickly to pick up the reins, "giddup, giddup." He called as he lashed the horse, it whinnied, reared up, and took off, leaving Dickie standing there at the front of the cart.

"Come back here, you stupid, old....."

"Who's that?" Sir Rupert got to his feet and came out of the shop, Dickie stood motionless, frozen to the spot, "who's that, I say. Who is it?" He put his walking stick under his arm and searched his pockets for his glasses until he found them, he looked up at Dickie.

"Good afternoon, sir." Said Dickie.

"A ruddy bandit," Sir Rupert grabbed his cane, "a damn bandit," he jabbed Dickie in the stomach and as he bent over double Sir Rupert hit him over the head, Dickie fell backwards on the pile of rags and stared up at the cloudy sky. "Damn bandit, filthy creatures," Sir Rupert muttered to himself as he strode away, "can't have ever heard of such a thing as a bath," Sir Rupert held up his handkerchief to his nose, "filthy swine."

"This must be the end of a perfect day." Said Dickie as he got to his feet and winced as he felt his sore head.

"Ruddy filthy bandit back there, a bandit, a filthy fellow, back there." Said Sir Rupert to the constable as he reached the small knot of people.

"We have the matter under control, Sir Rupert."

"Don't try and catch him, high, the fellow's high, chase him out with a bucket of water, or soap, show him soap and you'll not stop him." Continued Sir Rupert as he went on his way.

"Go back," Mason was telling the horse, "go back."

Dickie sat morosely on the seat of the cart with his chin in his hands, he heard the twitter of birds as they regained their senses and flew away to be followed by the butterflies.

"Cowards." He mumbled. The horse came trotting back. "I thought you would. Sir Rupert was up there wasn't he?" The horse whinnied and reared."Alright, it was just a joke." Dickie soothed him and got him back onto the front of the cart.

He gave a light tap to the horse's rump and it set off up the street. He passed people who cheered and clapped him, he stood up, took off his hat, and bowed.

"It's safe now, lads. Sir Richard has rescued you." He called and smiled.

Lee had seen neither of them all morning, he asked Cloud, Clarence, Haddington and Lady Marlebone, but they had no idea where the two 'young people' had gone to, finally he met Gilmore in the corridor.

"I believe they were going into the village, sir, I was under the impression they were going to see the vicar, Mr Winterhaiming said something..." Gilmore saw a speck of dust on a side table and turned his head slightly as he reached down with the point of his finger to pick it up, he made a mental note that he must speak to the maid whose task it was to take care of such things, Heaven knew a great deal wasn't asked of them, servants, he thought primly...... "about making the final arrangements...." The corridor was empty. "Sir?" He did a slow turn but there was no-one there beside himself. "Yanks." He muttered as he went looking for that maid.

Lee ran for all he was worth, he crossed the path in front of the house in quick, easy strides and cut through the forest. He ran as if all the happiness in the world depended on it, which to him, did just that.

He knocked a low hanging branch out of his way and it fell to the ground with a loud snap.

"What was that?" Garth was sitting on one of Henry's feet smoking a cigarette, he got slowly to his feet and turned around to see Lee bearing down on him, he jumped back as Lee shot past and allowed his cigarette to come into contact with Henry's trunk. "You crazy fool!" He called after Lee as he shook his fist. A branch came from the sky to land on his head, "Henry." He said, his eyes rolled up and he fell unconscious to the ground.

Dickie's cart came rumbling up the road, he passed George's house on his right just down a small slope. He waved to George, Charlie and Grace who all waved back, he was whistling merrily to himself, then as the horse began to climb the incline of the road, he saw Lee.

"Oh, no."

"Get out of my way." Panted Lee as he came running down toward him.

"I'm not in your way, mate."

"Get out of my way!" He shouted as he shot past, the horse whinnied, reared up and ran for its life. Naturally it took only the reins and the shafts with it.

Dickie stood up with his hands on his hips. He jumped down on the road. "Come back here, you stupid...." Behind him the wagon gave a strange groan, Dickie stood looking up the road, the groans continued at regular intervals, but growing fainter and fainter.

"Please," Dickie raised his eyes to the sky, "make it that the wagon has fallen to pieces, please don't make it roll back and........"

There was a loud crash and an all too familiar rumble.

"What's happened? What's happened?" Dickie heard the hysterical voice of Grace, he didn't dare turn around to look. "What's that terrible smell? Charlie, stop George, he'll kill Dickie with that!"

Dickie was running. "Did I ask for something all that difficult?" He said to the sky. "Next Sunday, nothing in the plate, I'll teach you."

He passed the horse and was a cloud of dust up the road, he ran until he couldn't run another step, he lurched off the road to fall flat on his face in the forest, he rolled over on his back and lay gasping for breath, it took some time, but finally his heart stopped pounding and his chest stopped heaving as he got his breath. He turned on his side to contemplate his future, if George or Charlie got their hands on him he'd have no future. He glanced up glumly.

"My God, what an ugly tree," he muttered, "that must be the ugliest tree I've ever seen." And he chuckled, he was reaching in his pockets to see if he had any food when a branch came plummeting from above, then another and finally a third, to bury the unconscious Dickie.

"Oh, yes, they were here." Smiled the vicar. "A lovely couple, a really lovely couple."

"This morning?" Asked Lee.

"Yes, that's right, just before lunch. A lovely......"

"They made the final arrangements?"

The vicar looked at him suspiciously. "What passed between us, I'm afraid, Mr Lee, must remain a secret, that's a pledge I gave Miss Marlebone."

Lee got a sudden, bright idea. "I'm the best man."

"Are you?" The vicar wore a puzzled frown, Lee nodded, "that's strange, they said the best man wouldn't be here until tomorrow, he was supposed to be coming from London, did they change their minds."

"Tomorrow, from London?" Muttered Lee as he clattered down the aisle of the church.

"I say, Mr Lee."

"Yes?"

"You'll be here tomorrow?"

"Oh, yeah, for rehearsal you mean?"

"I suppose so." The vicar was scratching his head.

"Yeah, I'll be here," he walked to the door of the church, "if I'm not here, start without me."

"Of course....." Lee ran down the steps and across the square, "wait a minute," the vicar went to the door, "start without you? That's impossible. Mr Lee!" He roared but Lee ran up the main road. "Dear me, Americans." The vicar went back into his church shaking his head.

When Lee reached the edge of the village a small crowd had congregated by the side of the road, he stopped to get his breath and walked over to join them, they were all looking down the slope at George's house.

The cart lay in shattered pieces, crushed against the fallen wall.

Grace lay in a faint on the ground as Charlie fanned her, the constable stood over them taking notes.

Lee found some of the men chuckling. "They say the big fellah from the city did it and took off for the hills." Laughed one.

"I saw a berserker looking something like George Dobkins with an axe charging the trees up there." Said another with a laugh and they all joined in.

"Hello." One of the men stood with his hands in his pockets smoking a pipe, they all looked in the direction he was looking. Lee followed their gaze.

The constable had dropped his notebook and put his hand to his head, he swayed and finally fell to the ground, a short time later Charlie did the same. Suddenly a couple of men in front did the same.

"The wind's shifted." Roared a terrified voice, "run for your lives! Run for your lives!"

There was a wild stampede and in a matter of seconds not a soul stood at the side of the road. Lee was flying up the road and into the trees.

He returned to the house dispirited and tired, but when he realised that they hadn't returned as he had imagined, his spirits sank even lower. He sat glumly with Cloud out in the sunshine and passed the afternoon away.

"I've been thinking, Smoke."

"Yeah, about what, Two-Refs?"

"Going home." Cloud turned his head quickly.

"Are you crazy?" Lee sat with his hands clasped on his stomach, his long legs stretched out in front of him. "It's that Marlebone dame, ain't it? I knew she'd be trouble. Look, pal, after Clem tells everyone that you're his grandson you'll be up to your ears in dames, the country's crawling with 'em, all looking for rich husbands." Cloud lit a cigarette.

"What did you say?"

"I said once you've got dough....."

"Smoke, has the old Lord said anything to you about claiming me as his grandson?"

"Not in so many words, he ain't, but it's a sure......"

"Has he said anything about Winterhaiming?"

"I ain't heard anything, why do you ask?"

"Because it's obvious." Lee got to his feet to stride up and down.

"It is?"

"Don't you see? Old Haddington is going to claim Winterhaiming as his grandson."

"He can't do that."

"He's probably going to do it tomorrow, in fact I'll lay a hundred that's what he's going to do."

"You haven't got a hundred." Said Cloud.

"She is one cold-blooded woman."

"Is she?"

"She's got Winterhaiming snared, they've already completed their wedding arrangements."

"Wedding arrangements? Two-Refs, what are you talking about?"

"I've got to see her and stop her."

"Two-Refs......." Lee was striding off.

"Don't you see, Smoke? She'll have Winterhaiming announce it tomorrow and then the old man will make his announcement? I have to stop her from making the worst mistake she'll ever make."

"Two-Refs, come back here." Cloud went after him but Lee's legs were longer and he disappeared into the house. "Crazy fool."

"He's right, you know." Clarence came from behind a tree smoking a cigar.

"Have you got another one of those?" Cloud pointed to the cigar as he tossed his cigarette away.

"Certainly." Clarence took one from his pocket and handed it to Cloud and lit it for him.

"Right about what?" Cloud returned to his seat while Clarence went to the seat vacated by Lee.

"About the double announcement tomorrow."

"Are you telling me Clem is about to accept that....that....."

"Reginald Winterhaiming."

"Yeah, as his grandson?"

"Yes."

"Did Clem tell you that?"

"Not in so many words."

"In other words, he didn't say what he's going to do?"

"I think that if you were to use your eyes, my dear fellow, the conclusion is obvious."

"What do you mean?"

"Miss Marlebone is a very clever young woman."

"Okay, she's got some brains, so what?"

"Apparently you seem to be the only person in the whole area who isn't aware that Winterhaiming and she are making arrangements to be married."

"Okay, they're a swell pair, I hope they'll be very happy together, but what's that got to do with Two-Ref's claim?"

"Come, come, my dear fellow, Lady Marlebone and her husband are in desperate straits right now, they need money urgently, need I say more?"

"I don't get your drift, Clarence."

"Lord Haddington is going to claim Reginald Winterhaiming as his grandson tomorrow. Your boy, as you so quaintly call him, has lost."

"I don't see that."

"Because you refuse to accept the obvious."

"This Winterhaiming character is well off, right now, ain't he?"

"He's not poor, but he's not that well off. This estate will make him more than well off."

Cloud puffed on his cigar.

"Well, this little shindig tomorrow is going to be a real humdinger, I think we'll just stick around to hear it officially."

"I would like to offer you a friendly suggestion, Cloud."

"Go ahead."

"Don't stick around." Clarence got to his feet. "I did warn you. The authorities are on your tracks right this minute, any delay could be....fatal."

"Just what do you mean by that?" Demanded Cloud angrily. "You keep saying this, that and the other about police being on our tracks. Two-Refs and I ain't got nothing to hide."

"If you say so, old chap."

"You bring on these authorities."

"Have no fear of that, Cloud." Clarence strode off toward the house. Cloud sat puffing on his cigar in angry silence.

Clarence came striding along the back corridor with a pleased smile on his face, puffing his cigar.

"Well, sir, haven't you got a tongue....."

Clarence halted at a corner when he heard the familiar voice, he tiptoed back the way he'd come and disappeared through a side door.

"Speak up," Sir Rupert was jabbing his cane at a large pot plant, "well, God gave you a tongue, you poor, skinny fool, speak up."

Lee stood to one side as they came strolling down the corridor from the front door, the late afternoon sun came streaming in as Gilmore closed the door.

"Well, did you two have a nice day?" Lee asked sullenly.

"How very kind of you to ask, Mr Lee, we had a charming day, didn't we, Reginald?"

"We certainly did, my dear Cynthia."

"Miss Marlebone, may I have a word with you?" He asked as they strode past.

"Perhaps a little later, Mr Lee, I'm frightfully busy."

"Cynthia, I want to talk to you."

"I say....." Began Winterhaiming.

"If you ever learn to speak to a lady in a correct tone of voice, Mr Lee, I might spare a few moments to speak to you. Until then, good afternoon, sir." Cynthia strode off, Lee was about to follow but Winterhaiming stood in his way.

"As you are a foreigner and a guest of his Lordship, Lee, I shall restrain myself sufficiently to overlook you want of manners." Lee stared at him coldly. "In future you will conduct yourself in a gentlemanly fashion should you ever find yourself in the presence of Miss Marlebone. If you do not, sir, I shall be forced to thrash you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly." Said Lee icily.

"Then I shall say good day to you, sir." Winterhaiming turned on his heels and strode off.

Haddington poked his head around the corner, he had heard everything.

"Go after her, my boy." He whispered, "go on." Lee turned to look at him. "Don't be afraid of that blighter, you're a boxer, knock him out."

"I appreciate your concern," said Lee, "but I'll let it pass just now." He walked in the opposite direction.

"Don't go away, Two-Refs, don't give up." Haddington stood watching him grimly. "Oh, damn." He muttered.

"Clemmie." Sir Rupert came from nowhere to put his hand on Haddington's shoulder. Haddington jumped in fright.

"If you ever," gasped the old man, "if you ever dare to attempt to frighten the life out of me like that again, I'll.....I'll strangle you."

"Clemmie, I've done something terrible, something really terrible."

"Have you?" Haddington walked away completely disinterested.

"I'm afraid, old man, I've killed one of your servants, I've killed him. A skinny chap he was, I used my cane a little too hard, cut the bounder in half. His body is lying in the rear corridor.

"Good, I'll send for the police." Called Haddington cheerfully.

"You don't mean to say you're going to turn me over to the police, your only brother?"

"Only if there's a possibility you'll be hanged."

"How can you be so heartless, Clemmie, how can you be so heartless?"

Haddington reached the end of the corridor, stopped and turned to face his brother. "It's easy, Rupert, it's easy." And went on his way.

"I've got to hide, I've got to hide." Sir Rupert was in a panic, but he collected his wits about him to make himself scarce.

"If only it were true," Haddington was shaking his head as he walked along mumbling to himself, "if only it were true."

One of the maids came upon the dismembered plant.

"Well, I never." She said. She looked at the half plant standing in the pot, then she looked up at the top of the window before which the plant had been standing, she could see a leaf caught there.

The plant was one of those long, leafy drooping things that grew constantly, it was a special prize of one of the cooks. Winterhaiming had tied a piece of string to one end of the plant, passed the string through the top of the window and tied a small bucket of sand to it.

It would keep it straight and help it grow, said the expert Winterhaiming. The cook was delighted.

The maid looked through the window but could see no sign of bucket or string. She walked away to break the bad news to the cook.

On the other side of the window lying on the ground, out of sight was an unconscious Clarence, a bucket of sand nearby.

* * * * *

# Chapter 8

They all gathered for supper. Haddington, as he took his seat, glanced at Lee, who sat eating, all his attention apparently focused on his food, but the old man caught the eyes dart quickly to watch Cynthia and Winterhaiming and then back to the food.

Haddington shrugged his shoulders, he was on the verge of deciding he had made a mistake about Lee and was coming to terms about Winterhaiming. He looked down at Winterhaiming and heard his usual reply to any question or remark. "How tiresome." The old man reached for a glass of wine with a grimace on his face.

"Sir Rupert?" Said Lady Marlebone suddenly.

"Where?" Asked Cloud jumping to his feet.

"That's just what I was asking, Mr Cloud, where is Sir Rupert?"

"You mean to say he's not here?" Said a blank-faced Haddington as he took another sip of his wine. "Gilmore, how could you let this happen?"

"I'm very sorry, sir."

"Tell him at once, Gilmore." Ordered Lady Marlebone.

"Yes, Gilmore," smiled Haddington, "do you want him to get here when all the food is gone, imagine that voice stilled forever because of starvation?"

"I believe I know where the gentleman is, Your Lordship." Gilmore turned and left the room.

"You do?" His smile slipped a little.

"The thought of a meal without the company of that wonderful man is unthinkable." Sighed Lady Marlebone.

Cloud and Clarence glanced at each other and shook their shoulders in resignation.

"It's so rare lately that I fear she's right." Muttered Haddington. "Well, Clarence, are all the preparations completed for tomorrow?"

"They are, Your Lordship."

"Tell me, Clem, this shindig tomorrow what's it supposed to be?" Asked Cloud.

"It's a gathering of the local gentry, all the most respected citizens of the area."

"I guess it ain't to discuss some bright ideas of a local mayor, like at home?"

"Is that on the agenda, Clarence?"

"No, Your Lordship, we don't have a local mayor."

"We don't have any bright ideas either." Said Haddington.

"Oh, I don't know." Said Clarence.

At the far end of the table Winterhaiming and Cynthia were busy whispering and giggling totally ignoring everybody else.

"Politics are so tiresome."

"It has nothing to do with politics." Said Clarence.

"You mean it's a party?" Asked Cloud.

"Yes."

"With dancin'?"

"Of course."

"Say, that sounds swell, don't it, Two-Refs?"

"Yeah." Said Lee dully.

"I do hope Mr Lee will not allow such unrestrained enthusiasm to go unchecked," smiled Clarence, "why, he'll frighten the ladies."

They all had a good laugh.

Gilmore walked down the corridor until he came to the cloakroom door, he stood before it and leaned forward a little, he could still hear the murmur of a voice, the same voice he'd heard there as he passed an hour before. He knocked and waited.

"Come in, come in." Gilmore opened the door. Sir Rupert had made himself comfortable in a corner of the cloakroom on a couple of suitcases. A small candle was at his feet casting a glow. Sir Rupert looked to the other side of the cloakroom to a large coat hanging there. "Do pardon me, old chap, I'll see to this and get back to my sixteenth birthday, I think you'll find it very interesting." He looked up at Gilmore. "What is it?"

"Supper is served, Sir Rupert."

"Is it?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll be blowed, I had no idea it was so late." Gilmore helped him to his feet. "I'll say goodbye to you, sir." Sir Rupert addressed the coat. "Let me just say this, never have I had a more sympathetic ear to my amazing life story. I want to shake your hand, sir." Sir Rupert grabbed an empty sleeve, then dropped it and looked at Gilmore with a shocked expression on his face.

"He lost it in the Crimea, sir."

"Poor lad. Poor lad." Sir Rupert patted the shoulder and stepped outside. Gilmore blew out the candle and joined him. "What a frightful room the fellow has."

"Yes, sir." Gilmore led the way down the corridor.

"Who is he, anyway?" Sir Rupert glanced back over his shoulder, "some poor one-armed veteran my brother has taken in, I expect." He remembered the feel of that shoulder, "a bit thin too." Gilmore continued on in silence. "I say, have the police arrived yet?"

"The police, sir?"

"Yes, has my brother sent for the police?"

"I don't believe so, sir."

"What about the body?"

"The body, sir?"

"Yes, the body, the body."

"What body would that be, sir?"

"You're sure you're a servant in Lord Haddington's household?"

"I believe so, sir."

"And you've not heard of the gory murder right in this house?"

"One cannot keep up with everything, sir."

"Well, I'll be blowed, one of your own kind, brutally murdered right under your own roof and you're not even interested in the details."

"Who did it, sir?"

"Oh, no you don't, I'm not foolish enough to make any confession, not before I've spoken to Clarence."

"I see, sir. I'm sure this murdered chap, whoever he may happen to have been met a just fate."

"He did tend to provoke, I suppose I lost my temper."

"Of course, sir."

"Fought back, I can tell you, fought back like the devil. I suppose I'll have to face his wife and children."

"Yes, sir."

"He did have a wife and children, did he?"

"I expect he did, sir."

"Good worker, was he?"

Gilmore reached where the corridor took a turn.

"He'll be sadly missed, sir." He turned and walked on but Sir Rupert had his head down staring glumly at the floor as he walked on and didn't see where he was going, he walked straight into a suit of armour.

"I say," said Sir Rupert angrily, "there's no need for you to take your anger out on me, your friend attacked me, I was compelled to defend myself. He was a rather sickly looking chap, and it may well be I've done the fellow a service."

Gilmore had stopped and turned to watch in silence, for the first time he allowed a little expression to appear on his face, it was an expression of infinite boredom, he sighed deeply as he wondered whether it was worthwhile to retrace his steps to point out Sir Rupert's error.

"Well, sir, what would you have done in my place? Well? Would you have allowed this crazed fiend to attack you at will without raising a finger to defend yourself? Well, speak up, sir?"

"........I don't call sixty people a small gathering." Cloud was saying

"As I said, Mr Cloud, it's just a small gathering." Repeated Clarence.

"You see, Smokey," said Haddington, "any less than that and it's too quiet, you can hear your bones growing, conversation doesn't flow....."

"....haven't you got a tongue, sir, God gave all his human creatures a tongue. You should cultivate its use, it might surprise you, sir...."

"Of course," said Haddington, "a great deal depends on just who those sixty people are."

"Quite." Said Clarence as he took a long sip of his wine.

The vicar had finished his supper and decided to take his constitutional. He stood across the square to look back with pride at his magnificent church. Then in the growing darkness with his cane swinging in his hand he walked through the village, nodding a greeting to a villager here and there and raising his hat to any lady he encountered.

He decided to continue on and walk to Haddington's estate, there was that little matter to settle. He reached the end of the village and was passing Dobkin's house, a terrible smell assailed his nostrils and he was compelled to put his handkerchief to his nose and keep it there until he was well and truly past the cottage.

He made a mental note to speak to George Dobkins about it, then it occurred to him the reason for the smell. ".......and some of the local farmers about honesty." He said to himself as he went on into the gathering darkness.

He hadn't gone very far along the road when he realised that if he were to take a short cut through the trees it would lessen his journey considerably.

He did so. He hadn't gone far beyond the road when the darkness became very pronounced. He tried to smile and began to hum one of his favourite hymns. He took a step and there was the snapping of a twig off to his right. The vicar halted and stood in silence watching intently.

"Who's there?" He asked in a hoarse whisper. It's the mysterious stranger, he suddenly decided to himself. "Let me warn you, sir, I am armed, and if you do not reveal yourself this instant I shall fire."

He held the cane as if it were a rifle and waited. A twig snapped behind him in the profound silence, the vicar spun and held his breath.

He stood waiting in trepidation, beads of sweat appeared on his brow. There was a sound, the vicar turned his head to look over his shoulder, a dark form came from behind a tree. The hair on the vicar's neck under the hat stood up. A huge bulk towered over the bending form.

"You wouldn't happen to have a sandwi....."

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!" The vicar took to his heels.

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!!" Dickie did the same in the opposite direction, scared out of his wits and deafened by some unearthly roar.

The vicar ran until he felt his lungs about to burst, he'd lost his hat and his cane and he stopped to lean against a tree panting for breath, and mopping his brow. Suddenly, he felt something, he looked up, level with him, just inches from his face were a pair of yellow glowing eyes.

"AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" He roared right into Miss Blackie's face, with the fur on her back standing on end and her tail three times it's normal width she flew from the sound.

The vicar was running once again. He ran until he had to stop for a rest, he stood with his back to a tree, his head thrown back with his mouth wide open gulping down air. A hand was placed on his shoulders.

The vicar's mouth snapped shut as he brought his head down. He was looking into the face of a corpse in a deerstalker hat.

"AAAAHHHH!!!!!" He roared, realising it was no ghost because the body had felt so normal under his running feet.

This time the vicar fell to the ground and lay gasping for breath.

"Your servant, Lord..... " He panted. "Calls on your divine aid as......his merciless enemies...... surround him." He waited until he had his second wind and slowly got to his feet, there was a low hanging branch and he grabbed at it with determination, he pulled it this way and that but it would not come loose. "Lord, I call on you in my plight, take pity on me." High above there was a snap and a small branch fell to the ground. "Thank you, Lord." The vicar picked up the branch, it was not too heavy and not too light.

"What was that?" Came a faint voice in the distance.

The vicar looked off with narrowed eyes and took up a stance. "Send your worst, satan, with the Lord by my side you and your wicked menials shall surely be vanquished." With a determined tread the vicar set off for the estate, completely unafraid.

He passed through the forest and stopped, there was movement just up ahead, something was eerily coming toward him, the vicar raised the branch over his head and waited. Suddenly the son of Satan himself appeared from behind a tree, the face was twisted into a hideous snarl.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" Roared the vicar and brought the branch down on the monster's head, then bounded off quickly.

The form lay under the branch unconscious for some time, finally it moved and rubbed a large bump on its head "What in the name of God was that?" Groaned Garth as he sat up to rub his head.

"........I'm sure I don't know." Said Clarence as he and Cloud stood at the back of the house smoking cigars, they both stood looking toward the forest. "If I'm not mistaken, it sounded just like the trumpeting of an elephant."

"You don't mean you got elephants in this English forest?"

"I shouldn't be at all surprised." He replied calmly.

Haddington sat at his desk, a glass of wine at his elbow, he had his chin in his hand as he drummed on the desk with his other hand.

"The question is, Rupert, what is to be done?"

Sir Rupert sat across the desk facing his brother, he wore a glum, sorry expression. "I'm a worthless swine, Clemmie, just a worthless buffoon."

"I know all that," Haddington took up his glass, "if you think by repeating what everybody already knows will solve the problem, Rupert, you're mistaken." He took a drink.

"I'm not worth saving, Clemmie, not worth saving, I should be dragged out into the streets and hung from the nearest tree."'

Haddington swung his swivel chair until his back was to his brother and he sat with a smile of sheer pleasure as he imagined such a scene, then his face settled back into its stern coldness and he returned to face his brother. "British justice doesn't work like that."

"Of course it doesn't, Clemmie, no, not British Justice, it couldn't work like that......"

"The servants....."

".....not our justice, British justice is held as the greatest....."

"Shut up!" Sir Rupert jumped in his chair then sat in silence twisting a piece of cloth in his hand. "The servants have buried the body."

"I'm most grateful to them, Clemmie, I'm most grateful to them, indeed I am."

"I've decided not to go to the police."

"I'm very grateful to you, Clemmie, most grateful, indeed I am."

"The servants obey all my commands."

"All of them, Clemmie, all of them, indeed they do."

"And I've ordered them not to repeat a word of this to another soul."

"They'll obey it, Clemmie, they'll obey it, indeed they will."

"Therefore the matter is finished and forgotten."

"Why, Clemmie, that is perfectly ripping of you, what a brother you are, a king, Clemmie," Rupert had gotten to his feet, "I could not ask for more....."

"Sit down and shut up!" Sir Rupert did so. "There is one condition, however."

"Name it, Clemmie, all you need do is name it, go ahead, just say what it is."

Haddington was rubbing his temples. "In my presence you will never repeat anything you say again, not on any occasion."

"That's an easy condition, Clemmie, very easy, I never repeat anything, never, do you remember mother? Once is enough, Rupert, she used to say, once is enough. I took that to heart, Clemmie, I took that to heart."

"Rupert." Haddington was now massaging his forehead.

"Yes, Clemmie, speak up, old boy, I'm at your service, you need only speak up."

"I'm going to amend that condition."

"Of course, old chap, of course, it's your condition, amend it by all means, amend it."

"You will not speak one word in my presence, not one word."

"Not one word, Clemmie, not one word?"

"Not one word, Rupert, not one...." Haddington continued to massage his forehead. "I want you to maintain absolute silence in my presence."

"That could be difficult, Clemmie, that could...."

"Not at all. You shall tell people that you have a sore throat and you have lost your voice."

"But they'll know, Clemmie, if I tell them I've....."

"You will write it down."

"Oh." Sir Rupert nodded his head happily, "of course, how clever, why didn't I think of that."

"Good. That's settled." Haddington refilled his glass.

"What about the.....victim's family, Clemmie?"

"I'll take care of his family."

"I shall have to see them, I shall have to offer them my profoundest apology."

"You can't do that." Haddington sipped his drink.

"Why not, Clemmie?"

"Because you can't."

"It would be ungentlemanly for me not to, I should never be able to live with myself if I didn't."

"I tell you, you can't."

"I don't see why not, Clemmie."

"Because......because he had no family, he was an orphan."

"But you said......"

"Are you contradicting me, Rupert?"

"No, old chap, of course not." He watched his brother take a drink. "What was the fellow's name?"

"Ah.....ah......Mr Plant."

"Mr Plant?"

"Mr Plant."

"I say, I once had a servant working for me called Mr Tree, a terrible chap, pity it couldn't have been him. Mr Tree........Mr Plant.........." He began to chuckle, "I wonder if they were related."

"That condition starts from now, Rupert." Said Haddington sternly.

"But surely....."

"You're talking, Rupert."

"Sorry."

"Goodnight, Rupert." Haddington drained his glass. Sir Rupert got to his feet.

"Well, good....."

"You're talking."

Sir Rupert slapped a hand to his mouth and bowed, he walked to the door and with a wave of his hand stepped outside and closed the door.

"What a lovely night it is." Smiled Haddington as he leaned back in his chair with his feet up on the desk.

"......have you seen Lady Marlebone or haven't you, do you have a tongue or don't you......."

"Rupert?"

After a couple of silent seconds the door was opened by a humble Sir Rupert. "Yes, Clemmie?"

"I could hear you."

"Sorry."

"You're talking again."

"I won't let it happen again, Clemmie, it won't......"

"Quiet!"

Sir Rupert bowed and withdrew in silence closing the door behind him.

Meanwhile to the south, just beyond the forest a visitor had just drawn up to the front door of George Dobkin's cottage, the tall stately figure rapped on the door with the head of his cane. The door was opened by Grace.

"Good evening, madam," the stranger raised his shiny top hat with one hand while he held his cane and a handkerchief close to his nose in the other.

"Evening."

"I was in search of the residence of Mr Richard Dobkins." George appeared suddenly behind Grace.

"Why?"

"Are you Mr Richard Dobkins?"

"No, I'm his brother."

"May I speak to Mr Richard Dobkins?"

"Why?"

"May I suggest, sir, that we carry on this discussion indoors, there is a rather distressing aroma out here."

"Is there? I never noticed."

The stranger waited in silence for a few moments and then finally spoke.

"Well," he pressed the handkerchief closer to his nose, "I'm afraid that if I do not receive some relief shortly I shall expire at your feet."

George stood looking at him in sullen silence.

"Get out of the way, George," Grace shoved him aside. "Please, come in."

"Thank you, madam." He stepped inside and George closed the door.

"Take his things, George." The stranger handed his hat, coat and cane in silence to George who took them in equal silence to place on a chair. "Sit down if you please." She indicated a chair and the stranger sat down with a nod of thanks. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"That's very kind of you, thank you." While she bustled about preparing the tea, George and Charlie sat down at the other end of the table in silence, they both looked very sullen.

"Now, why do you want to see Dickie?" She asked coming back to the table with a pot of tea and a cup and saucer.

"It'll cost us money." Said Charlie.

"Quite the contrary, gentlemen. Thank you." He took the full cup of tea offered by Grace. "If I could just speak to Mr Richard Dobkins."

"You can't." Said George shortly.

"Why not, if I may ask, sir?"

"You may ask, he ain't here."

"If he were here it would be as a mangled body in that corner." Said Charlie pointing.

"Oh dear, that is most disappointing."

"Perhaps you could tell us what it's all about," said Grace sitting down at the table, "we're his family."

"In matters such as this, dear madam, I make it a point to always deal with the principal involved."

"Richard Dobkins is a dying man......" Said George.

"Oh, dear me, I am sorry to hear that."

"I expect he's on his last hours of life right now."

"Just depends how quickly we can get our hands on him." Smiled Charlie.

"That makes it very difficult then," the stranger took a sip of tea, "excellent tea, madam." Grace smiled with pleasure. "My mission, gentlemen, was to do primarily with Mr Richard Dobkins."

"You can deal with us. If Dickie owes you money just tell us the amount...."

"No, no, it's nothing like that." The stranger sat stiff-backed in his chair and looked at the three faces in turn. "I suppose there's no harm in my discussing this matter with you, you may well be able to assist me."

"We are his family." Said Grace.

"As you say, madam, you are his family." He cleared his throat. "My name is Andrew Clifford, I live in the next county, just beyond the old castle."

"You've come a long way, sir."

"As you say, madam, I have indeed come a long way."

"Why?" Asked George curtly.

"It's been drawn to my attention that a gentleman by the name of Mr Richard Dobkins was selling some of his coin collection, specifically," he reached into his pocket to drop a couple of coins on the table, "such as these coins from Singapore."

George and Charlie looked at the coins and then at each other slowly. The stranger continued. "I do wish Mr Dobkins had allowed me to bid on them before disposing of them."

"Dickie carried them for years." Said Grace as she picked up the coins to look at them.

"I'm not surprised, madam, they're very rare and very valuable, Mr Richard Dobkins showed excellent taste."

"He valued those coins." Said George suddenly.

"No, he didn't....."Charlie got a kick under the table for his foolishness.

"I'm certain he did." Said Clifford calmly.

"It was my idea to get him to sell a couple of them like that, I knew once you collector fellows heard about it, you'd come sniffing around." Smiled George.

"You succeeded admirably, sir." Clifford raised his handkerchief to his nose to smell its more pleasant fragrance, "I congratulate you on such a clever scheme."

"The point is, how much are you willing to pay?"

"That depends on the condition of the coins and how complete the set is."

"They're in perfect condition and the set is complete, apart from those two."

"Hmmmm." Clifford stirred his tea, "I was thinking of in the vicinity of five hundred pounds."

There was a profound silence.

"We were in that vicinity ourselves." Said George thickly.

"Now, when can I see these coins?"

"Tomorrow night." Said George without thinking.

"Very well, then." Clifford got to his feet, "tomorrow night at the same time."

He walked over to the door to be handed his hat, coat and cane by a smiling George, he took Grace's hand and shook it gently. "Goodnight, madam."

He stepped out into the night and walked over to his waiting carriage, climbed in and was driven away.

The three of them stood in stunned silence at the door for a few seconds. Charlie turned from the door and walked back toward the table, followed by Grace.

"You're the clever one, George, what do we do?" He turned to see an open door, he and Grace walked over to it and watched George running up the road.

"Dickie! Dickie!" He was calling at the top of his voice.

"So he's the clever one, is he?" Asked a sceptical Grace with her hands on her hips. "Come on, help me pack some food."

"Do come in, vicar." Smiled Haddington and he got to his feet as Gilmore showed the vicar in.

"Your Lordship." The vicar nodded as he took a seat.

"Some wine, vicar?" Haddington indicated the bottle and glass at the vicar's elbow.

"As you know, Your Lordship, I do not hold with partaking of strong liquor, but tonight I think I am in need of a small drop."

"Of course, help yourself." Said Haddington as he watched the vicar fill his glass to near the brim. "Now, what brings you out so late at night vicar?"

"A delicate matter." He took a sip of his wine and wiped his mouth with a silk handkerchief. "I am uncertain how to begin." He frowned over it for a second. "A certain lady has entrusted me with this, yet it is most delicate."

"Do I know the lady?"

"Yes, Your Lordship."

"She lives quite close, does she?"

"Indeed she does."

"A charming lady, young, pretty?"

"Utterly so, Your Lordship."

"I believe I know the substance of this delicate matter, vicar."

"Good Lord, sir, you've dragged it from me." Smiled the vicar. "How say you?"

"How say I?"

"Indeed? Oh." He noticed his glass was empty and quickly refilled it. "I know it's a foolish thing."

"I beg to disagree, vicar."

"Do you? Upon my word, you sir, are the grandest fellow it has ever been my good fortune to encounter."

"Are the arrangements complete?"

"They are, sir. My good lady wife said it would be an imposition but I said..."

"Good lady wife?"

"Indeed, sir, if the truth be known I would not have dared bother you with such a trivial affair."

"She's the charming, pretty, young lady?"

"As you so cleverly deduced, Your Lordship."

"Perhaps, vicar if you could just explain......"

"You're not going back on your word. Oh, that would be too, too cruel."

"No, of course not."

"You accede to my good lady wife's request then, Your Lordship?"

"I do."

"Ripping." He took a long sip.

"Just what was the request, vicar?"

"The guests, sir, the guests."

"Oh, yes, of course, the guests." Said Haddington dubiously.

"I see," he smiled, "I see, Your Lordship is playing the fool with me." He chuckled.

"Devilishly well, I might add." Said Haddington.

"Alright, I'll join in the game if you insist."

"I do."

"As you know, on Wednesday it will be your seventieth birthday?"

"I had heard that."

"With a wonderful function planned."

"Yes."

"You were kind enough to invite both myself and my good lady wife."Haddington nodded. "It was a very generous gesture on your part of which I can only express my deepest appreciation."

"Not at all, vicar." Haddington refilled his own glass.

"However," the vicar cleared his throat and leaned over to replenish his half empty glass.

"Are you trying to say that you're unable to accept the invitation?" Haddington tried not to smile, the party looked like being a huge success, without the presence of the religious foghorn, its success would be assured.

"Dear me, Your Lordship, never, I would certainly never entertain such a notion."

"Oh."

"The problem is a delicate one. Your gracious invitation has caused a turmoil in the family."

"Your family?"

"The good lady wife's," he took a long drink, "it's almost a civil war, you can have no idea of the positive torture I've been through because of this wretched invitation." He calmly took another drink.

"I am most sorry, vicar." Haddington was equally calm.

"I cannot convey to you my frightful position."

"Perhaps if there were something I could do."

"Would you? That would be ripping, it really would."

"All you need do is ask, vicar."

"It's my good lady wife's brother, a wretched fellow, but he's awfully put out at not receiving an invitation."

"He doesn't live locally, does he?"

"Manchester, he lives in Manchester."

"It's no wonder he didn't get an invitation."

"It would cheer him no end, Your Lordship, to be invited to your birthday celebrations."

"The solution, vicar, is utterly simple, I shall send him off an invitation at once. Now, we can enjoy our wine."

"Not quite." He drained his glass. Haddington waited for him to go on. "There's his wife, you see."

"We'll invite her too."

"And their sons."

"We'll send them......"

"And their wives."

"We'll invite....."

"And his nephew."

"Well....." Haddington waited to see if there were more, the vicar was taking a sip of his drink. "I don't see why we can't...."

"And the nephew's wife."

"We can......"

"They have a son living in Cardiff." The vicar seemed to be talking to himself.

"We...."

"His wife will have to be invited."

"We....."

"My father-in-law."

"We....."

"My mother-in-law, of course."

"They can......."

"The greengrocer."

"The greengrocer?"

"My brother."

"Of course." Haddington drained his glass. "Vicar, why don't you write out a list and......" The vicar got to his feet, reached into his pocket to take out a sheet of paper and handed it across the table. "I see." He looked down the list as the vicar resumed his seat. "How many........"

"Thirty five, Your Lordship, counting my good lady wife and myself."

"By all means, your good lady wife and yourself. Thirty five, you say?"

"That's all." Smiled the vicar.

"I can see no problem." Haddington put the list of names and addresses in his pocket and got to his feet.

"I knew you'd take it in that spirit, Your Lordship, I told the good lady wife how you'd take it in such a good spirit." He drained his glass and also got to his feet.

Haddington came around the desk to put his hand on the vicar's shoulder as he walked him to the door and out into the corridor.

"I'll get Clarence to get the invitations out as soon as we possibly can, vicar."

"So kind of you..... I say, that sounds like Lady Marlebone." There was the sound of voices from one of the rooms.

"It is." Haddington took out a cigar and lit it.

"I should so much like to see her before I leave."

"By all means." Haddington led the way down the corridor and into the room.

"......I'm sure I'd be terrified, Sir Rupert, weren't you afraid?" Asked Lady Marlebone as she sat on a divan with Clarence while across the room Lee, Cloud, Cynthia and Winterhaiming were playing cards.

Sir Rupert stood in the centre of the room with his back to the door holding a cane in his hand as if it were a sword.

"Never. I was fifteen, mind you, but I was completely self-possessed. I stood my ground, daring the heathens to attack. I turned to the General who stood behind me; I turned to him to make a few suggestions about the disposition of our troops. General, I said, General....." Sir Rupert turned and caught sight of Haddington standing at the door smoking a cigar with his hands in his pockets.

"Yes, Sir Rupert, what did you say to the General?" Asked Lady Marlebone.

Sir Rupert opened his mouth a couple of times but nothing came out. "What did he say, Mr Clarence?"

"I have no idea, Lady Marlebone, I wasn't there at the time, but having heard this story something like several hundred times, I can hazard a guess." Sir Rupert looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"Is something wrong, Sir Rupert?" Asked the vicar. Sir Rupert put a hand to his throat and looked quickly about the room, he walked over to the table where the card game was in progress and wrote something on one of the score pads, tore out the page and came back to hand it to the vicar.

"What's he written?" Asked Lady Marlebone.

"He's written: 'Lost my voice'." The vicar held up the note for all to see, "twice."

"Of course." Said Haddington as he stepped out into the corridor, "Gilmore!"

"Your Lordship?" Gilmore quickly appeared.

"Sir Rupert is not well, he's decided to retire early, please assist him to his room."

As Gilmore helped him from the room, Sir Rupert looked at his brother levelly then leaned to whisper in his ear, "you swine."

"Certainly, old boy," smiled Haddington, "I'll tell Mr Plant you were thinking of him."

"No, Clemmie," burst out Sir Rupert grabbing his brother's arm, "I'm sorry."

"A miracle." Smiled the vicar.

"A temporary miracle, I believe, vicar." Said Haddington, "am I right, Rupert?" Sir Rupert looked at his brother glumly.

"Speak, Sir Rupert." Demanded the vicar. Sir Rupert opened his mouth a couple of times but nothing came out again. "Oh, what rotten luck."

"Poor Sir Rupert." Said Lady Marlebone as he shuffled out on the arm of Gilmore. "Now I shall have to wait to hear more of his fascinating life."

"Yes." Haddington wasn't displeased.

"That does seem odd." Said Clarence, "losing his voice like that and then regaining it and losing it again."

"There's nothing odd about it." Said Haddington.

"No, it does happen." Said the vicar.

"It struck me as odd." Clarence was looking at Haddington closely.

"Sir Rupert without a voice," said the vicar, "what a terrible ordeal it will be for him."

"Yes." Said Haddington.

"The house just won't be the same." Sighed Lady Marlebone.

"Yes." Haddington smiled.

"Lady Marlebone," the vicar came over to bow to her, "I dropped in to see his Lordship to discuss his celebration this coming Wednesday when I heard your voice, I simply had to speak to you and to say hello."

"Charming man."

"I saw your wonderful daughter and her young man and we discussed....we discussed...." He glanced down the room to see both Winterhaiming and Cynthia with their heads raised watching him carefully.

"Yes, vicar?" Asked Clarence.

The vicar caught sight of Sir Rupert's note, he placed his hand to his throat and held up the note.

"Oh, dear." Sighed Haddington. "Another victim of Rupert's curse."

"Odd." Said Clarence half to himself. "Very odd."

The vicar nodded goodnight to everyone, bowed to Lady Marlebone and strolled from the room, suddenly he poked his head back in.

"May I have a few words with you, Your Lordship?"

"A miracle, vicar." Smiled Lady Marlebone. The vicar opened his mouth a couple of times and put a hand to his throat, "oh, what a pity." The vicar grinned weakly and withdrew followed by Haddington.

"Yes, vicar?"

"I wonder if one of your servants could accompany me through the forest, once I reach the road I shall be able to go on alone, I don't want to lose my way."

"I'll get one of my carriages to drive you."

"No, that won't be necessary, I prefer to walk."

"Vicar."

"Yes?"

"Your voice."

He cleared his throat. "It must have been the stuffy room, once I came out here I could speak perfectly."

"Of course. I'll get you the best bodyguard in the place." Haddington was returning to the room.

"I have no need of a bodyguard, Your Lordship."

"Did I say bodyguard? I meant a guide." He went up to whisper a few words to Lee and Cloud, both nodded, excused themselves and went out of the room. Haddington signalled Clarence and he went to the door with Haddington. "I'd like you to take the vicar through the forest."

"He knows the way, Your Lordship." Clarence was looking forward to a glass of wine and a good game of cards.

"I'd look upon it as a personal favour to me if you'd go with our two American guests and ensure that our vicar passes through the forest safely."

"Surely he'd be safe with those two to guard his safety."

"Why in Heaven's name are you being so difficult, Clarence?"

"It's a cold night, Your Lordship, and Lady Marlebone can't begin the game without a fourth partner."

"I shall be the fourth."

"I can't see why the vicar is worried, he's travelled that forest many times."

Haddington walked with him to the front door where Gilmore helped him on with his coat.

"Something's frightened him, probably that mysterious stranger everybody keeps talking about."

"Yes." Clarence put on his hat. "Or elephants." He stepped out and Gilmore closed the door.

"What did he say, Gilmore?"

"I believe Mr Clarence said elephants, Your Lordship."

"When he comes back," Haddington touched Gilmore on the elbow to emphasise his instructions, "not too much wine for Mr Clarence."

"Yes. Your Lordship."

Clarence caught up with the three.

"I was just telling the reverend here," said Cloud, "about how we heard an elephant in the forest."

"Yes, an elephant," smiled the vicar , and cleared his throat.

"It certainly sounded like an elephant." Said Clarence.

"It would be quite a novelty, an elephant in an English forest."

"Oh, I don't know, vicar," said Clarence as he walked along beside the vicar and looked at him levelly, "you'd be surprised at the odd creatures that will stumble around in this forest at night."

"Maybe it was an English elephant." Suggested Cloud helpfully.

"HA, HA." Said the vicar thinking Cloud was joking.

Dickie sat glumly at the foot of a tree, the perfect picture of abject misery, now and again his stomach would let out a tortured growl and he'd begin again a frantic search of his pockets. When he found them devoid of food for the ninth time within the past hour he settled back into his despair.

He could leave off the decision no longer, unless he wished to starve to death he would have to face his brothers, he knew they would thrash him but he also knew he'd survive, however, it would be a different story if Grace joined in. His face fell, but then lifted, maybe they'd feed him and then thrash him. He got up and was just about to step out when another thought occurred to him. What if they thrashed him before they fed him?

Thrash, feed, he mused and leaned against the tree with a heartfelt sigh. That one word went through his mind again and again, feed. His mouth watered and he swallowed with difficulty. A new strength came to his soul, a new determination to face whatever lay in store for him.

He strode from the tree with his chin held high, his back ramrod-straight. He had to get sustenance for his body before the bones of his ribs came through his skin, something he felt they were perilously close to doing.

His steps were firm, his eyes steely, his fists clenched in determination, his stomach rumbled.

"Silence." He muttered with a firm voice. He passed one tree striding along as if he were a guardsman on parade, he neared another tree and froze in his tracks.

"Dickie! Dickie!"

He stepped back to cower behind the roots of the tree as he heard that far off voice, his mouth hung slack, his eyes bulged with terror, he was trembling with fear. It was the voice of George. But to Dickie's ears it sounded like a demented fiend.

"Face that," said Dickie through shaking lips, "am I insane?"

"Dickie! Dickie!" The voice was growing nearer! Dickie scrambled to his feet and ran for his life, no longer the guardsman on parade more like a crazed fool fleeing the gates of hell.

"Naturally," the vicar was saying, "Lord Haddington embodies all the virtues and graces of his station."

"Yes." Said Clarence dubiously.

"What was that?" Said Lee holding up the lamp in his hand and they all froze to the spot, the vicar moved closer to Clarence.

"What was it, Two-Refs?" Asked Cloud.

"I'm not sure, I thought I heard someone running."

"Must be the wind." Said Clarence.

"Yes, that's what it was, the wind." Smiled the vicar weakly as he looked about nervously.

"I think it was over there." Said Lee walking away from Clarence and the vicar, to be followed by Cloud.

"I say, don't go too far with that light." Called Clarence softly, aware of just how dark it was. The vicar suddenly heard something in the opposite direction. He stared across at a tree, it seemed to sound as if it were breathing!

With a half smile on his face, a mixture of fear and of trying to reassure himself that it was nothing, the vicar came over to the tree, and then dropped to his hands and knees to crawl around it's base. It was breathing, taking in great gulps of air, with a peculiar rumbling sound.

He crept around the tree and froze in his tracks, he could make out a large, dark mass against the tree. Suddenly it rose and towered over him.

"MY GOD," roared the vicar, as only he could roar, "IT IS AN ELEPHANT!" Of course Dickie was long gone before the vicar had even finished his sentence, dazed and a little deafened, vowing breathlessly never to succumb to curiosity again.

Clarence was shaking his head as he stood not far from the tree, he too was slightly deafened. He saw the light through the trees as Lee and Cloud chased what they thought was an elephant.

"Damn fools." Muttered Clarence as he walked over to the tree. There was no sign of the vicar, he stood trying to collect his thought when suddenly a form sprang from behind to grab him by the arms.

"Got you, Dickie, old son, my dear, dear brother." Clarence tried to move but the grip was vice-like.

"Who the devil are you?" He demanded.

"It's no use putting on a prissy voice, Dickie, I know it's you."

"Prissy voice?"

Suddenly another form appeared in front of him and placed a lamp up to his face blinding him.

"It ain't him." Said Charlie.

"Do you mind," said Clarence, "that lamp is very......."

"Of course it's him."

"I have no idea who you are, sir," said Clarence, "but I can assure you that I am not called Dickie."

"Why did you say you was then?"

"Pardon?"

"Why did you claim to be my brother? Did you think you'd get the money for yourself, is that it?"

"I don't know just how much money it is you're talking about, sir, but it would have to be a great deal before I'd claim to be the brother of some lunatic running loose in the forest."

"It's Mr Clarence, George."

"George?"

"Mr Clarence?" There was a second of stunned silence then a low growl at Clarence's ear and then the grip on his arms became tighter.

"Help!" Called Clarence in alarm.

"Let him go, George." Said Grace appearing from nowhere. "Let him go."

"Madam...." Gasped Clarence. She stepped up and lifted a heavy frying pan over her head and brought it down, there was a dull klunk and the grip on Clarence's arms loosened. Clarence turned to see George Dobkins lying on the ground. "He should be locked up, has he gone mad?"

"He's very worried about his brother, Mr Clarence." Said Grace as she knelt down to nurse his head in her lap.

"Is his brother hiding from him?"

"Yes."

"I'm not surprised." The blood was starting to return to his arms. "Have you seen the vicar?" He asked Charlie.

"No, Mr Clarence."

"I'll be on my way before he wakes up."

"Goodnight, sir." Called Charlie.

Clarence strode off into the darkness shaking his tingling hands.

Dickie reached a tree and stood leaning against it on one arm as he gasped for breath. He glanced over his shoulder and caught the faint glimmer of a light through the trees. He brought his head around and hung it on his chest as he struggled for breath. Then he stopped, he was aware someone was standing in front of him, he lifted his head slowly to see a corpse standing face to face with him in a deerstalker hat. For the second time that night the mysterious stranger's body was used as a platform for running feet.

Cloud and Lee stopped at a tree to rest. "Those elephants can really move, can't they?"Asked Cloud, and Lee nodded. Suddenly they heard a voice off in the distance.

"Aha, to you, mate." Whack.

"What was that, Two-Refs?"

"I'm not sure, it sounded like Mr Garth."

"You know this forest seems to be alive tonight." They walked off in the direction of the voice, they hadn't got far when they heard another familiar voice off to their left.

"TAKE YOU HANDS OFF ME!" It roared.

"The vicar." Smiled Cloud. Then there was another sound, a strange, metallic klunking sound.

They came upon the vicar strolling merrily along toward the road.

"Good to see you, gentlemen."

"I don't suppose you'll need us now, vicar."

"No, indeed, Mr Lee, it was very kind of you to accompany me, the road is just over there, goodnight, and God bless you."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight." They watched him march off into the darkness. "I sure would have liked to have caught that elephant." Said Cloud.

"It wouldn't have been easy bringing it back on a rope." Smiled Lee.

"No, I guess you're right." But Cloud was still disappointed. As they made their way back to the house, Lee was looking around carefully. "What is it, Two-Refs?"

"Where's Clarence?"

"What do you think of the estate?" Haddington and Winterhaiming were sitting out in the night air smoking cigars as they looked out across the forest.

"I think the estate is magnificent, Your Lordship."

"What would you do if it were yours?"

"As you know papa, that is to say my foster-papa, has a very large estate in New Zealand so that I am not without some experience of large estates."

"It's a different thing when the estate is your own."

They both looked to the forest as a voice was suddenly raised in protest.

"What do you think you're doing, let me go! Lads, help me, help me." Klunk.

"That sounds like Mr Garth." Said Winterhaiming.

"Yes." Said Haddington calmly, "sounds as if his lads did help him."

"I wonder what he's doing out so late?"

"Mr Garth is Mr Garth." Said Haddington in reply. "Now, where was I?" He puffed on his cigar. "An estate that belongs to another that is in your care is just a task, but if you own the estate it's a different matter."

"Of course."

"What would you do if all this were suddenly yours?"

"I don't believe you'd regret it, Your Lordship."

"It doesn't daunt you, the thought of so much responsibility?"

"Not at all, I pride myself on my abilities."

"You mentioned your foster-parent's estate in New Zealand," Winterhaiming nodded, "he sold parts of it, didn't he?"

"Certain uneconomical sections, primarily my papa is a business man. There were worthless sections that were draining our resources, so we disposed of them. We made quite a tidy sum really."

"I've got some like that. Over the west, a large parcel of land, the locals call it 'The Bog.' Very popular with children," he puffed on his cigar, "and apparently a favourite place for cows to get stuck in." Winterhaiming gave a short smile. "What would you do with it?"

"I would need to see it before I could make such a decision."

"You've no need to see it, just for the sake of argument, we'll say the land is yours, what would you do with it?"

"It's called 'The Bog'? Haddington nodded, "I assume it's a drain on your resources?"

"Absolutely."

"Worthless, uneconomical acres?"

"That's right."

"I'd sell them."

"I knew you would." Haddington sat smoking in silence for a few seconds. "There are some families on them, old some of 'em and poor, I let them stay without paying any rent, what would you do with them?"

"I must protest, Your Lordship, that really is most unfair."

"I can't see why you'd say that."

"If you had told me about those people in the first place I would have said I would not sell the land."

"I was just asking, old boy."

"I have the feeling I was just given a test, and I failed."

"Nonsense."

"Would you have preferred that I lie to you, if the land was worthless and uneconomical and unoccupied, I would sell it. I believe you want me to be honest."

"Of course."

"I'm not a complete fool, Your Lordship, I know how deeply you are attached to your estate and the idea of selling any part of it is anathema to you."

"I expect before too many years are out the matter won't mean much to me either way."

"I do not wish to sound boastful, Your Lordship, but I believe that I would treat this estate with all the care at my command and I would take all the responsibilities very seriously indeed. I believe with the right kind of wife by my side this whole area would be a centre of culture and inspiration to the whole country."

"Any plans in that direction?"

"I confess, sir, I do have certain plans afoot. Nothing definite, mind you, but bordering on completion."

"Yes." Haddington stubbed his cigar out and got to his feet, "it's quite late, I think I'll retire."

"Of course, sir, and there's a busy day ahead for you." Winterhaiming stood up.

"Yes, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Haddington shuffled off looking tired as Winterhaiming sat back down in his seat. He felt very pleased with himself, his intuition told him he'd done well in this encounter and as Mr Clarence kept telling him all he needed was to be patient.

It was very early in the morning, Dickie lay snuggled up against a tree trunk, he heard someone go running by and in the distance the snap of a branch.

"What was that?" He heard a faint voice off somewhere in another part of the forest. He tried to sit up and immediately became aware of two things. A small black cat lay snuggled up beside him and a couple of light, leafy branches lay covering him.

"Thanks, tree." He sat up gingerly trying not to disturb the cat and yawned widely as he stretched his arms. The cat looked up at him with one sleepy eye open. Dickie patted her, for it was Miss Blackie, and got up trying to keep the branches in place.

He stood shivering in the chill morning air and looked about him, it looked like being a clear, sunny day, but there were pockets of cold morning mists here and there.

He was just about to take a step in the direction of where he thought the village lay when suddenly he heard faintly.

"Dickie! Dickie!"

"Oh, no." He turned quickly and ran off in the opposite direction, he ran past trees and down a long slope, he passed over a small stream, climbed a fence, crossed a road and stood looking down into a valley.

A small village lay nestling against the side of the slope below, Dickie saw smoke filtering slowly from chimney stacks and his stomach rumbled, his mouth began to water and he swallowed with difficulty.

As he began to realise how hungry he was he lurched off to stumble down the slope. He came up the main street to pass a few early morning risers, a couple of women sweeping or beating mats. He heard the clatter of a cart on the cobblestone street somewhere in the distance. He turned a corner to see a couple of farm workers entering an inn.

He came up to them and looked up at the sign.

'The Starved Sailor' it said with a painting swinging in the morning breeze of a very thin tar.

"Not for long." Smiled Dickie.

There was a small crowd scattered about the room smoking and talking hardly taking any notice of the stranger who pushed his way to the bar.

"Morning." He smiled to one of the drinkers who nodded silently and took in his dirty state in an instant, his clothes carried the faint remains of a certain odour so that the drinkers on either side gave him plenty of room.

"What'll it be, sir?" Smiled the jovial innkeeper behind the bar.

"Get your biggest glass and fill it to the top, and stand nearby to refill it." Said Dickie smiling with anticipation and rubbing his hands to beat the cold.

"Certainly, sir." The Innkeeper smiled broadly as he took in Dickie's state.

"Something?"

"Money, sir, have you got any?"

"Of course I have, my man, I'm an Englishman, do you take me to be dishonest?"

"Not dishonest, sir, forgetful like."

"I have money, sir, you insult me," Dickie was looking through his pocket, "this establishment has lost my custom, I can tell you, I shan't be drinking here again."

"Without money, mate," laughed one of the drinkers, "you won't be drinking here at all." And he drained his glass in one deft movement. Dickie watched every movement and swallowed as the empty glass was put down.

His search became more frantic, until he found a few coins and put them on the bar. The innkeeper looked at them and then at Dickie.

"Something?" Smiled Dickie.

"I said money, not medals."

"What are you talking about, that's money, from Singapore they are and very valuable."

"Maybe they are in Singapore, mate, but this is not Singapore."

"Look, innkeeper, you can trust me, keep these coins and I shall return this afternoon and redeem them."

"Hey, Harry," called one of the drinkers, "I got some buttons here from Japan can...."

"Just go on with what you're doing, cheek, I've got enough to do with this tramp."

"Tramp?"

"I don't give credit to anyone, not even me own mother, if she drinks here, she pays for it. If you've got the money you can have a drink, if you haven't I shall have to ask you to leave these premises." Dickie put the coins in his coat pocket.

Dickie went from drinker to drinker trying to borrow money for a drink and a meal but was pushed away roughly or laughed at.

"You don't want that." He said to one puny, little, old man with a half-empty glass.

"Yes, I do." He held it firmly and Dickie couldn't shift his little arm even an inch, as he tugged in vain, he saw a lit cigarette on a window sill nearby, quickly he grabbed it and applied the lit end to the seat of the drinker's trousers, who let out a yelp and released the glass.

But it was too sudden for Dickie who fell backwards with the glass to send the contents flying over his head. As he lay on the floor Dickie heard the room let out a gasp and go strangely silent.

"What is it now, God, what have you got planned for me?" He got to his feet keeping his back to the door, he looked at all the drinkers, not one movement came from any of them as they stared frozen at something behind Dickie.

He gulped and slowly turned.

A giant stood at the doorway with a disgusted face, he was rubbing the palm of his hand over a wet spot of beer on a garishly coloured vest, a very new garishly coloured vest.

"He did it, sir," Dickie grabbed the old man and pushed him at the giant, "he threw the beer at me."

"Are you alright, father?" Boomed the giant.

"Father?"

"Yes, son, this fool burnt me with a cigarette and ruined me drink."

"That's alright, father, I'll tear out his arms and you can have 'em."

"That would be nice, son." The old man sat down calmly to smoke his pipe. Dickie fled in terror to the bar. "In the name of God, help me." He pleaded to the innkeeper.

"You're a religious man, then?" Smiled the innkeeper.

"Yes."

"Good, we'll make it a lovely funeral." He ducked down behind the bar. Strange tearing noises came from the door, Dickie turned around to see the giant tearing a table to pieces, testing each leg to see which would make the best weapon.

"Give us another drink, Harry, before he wrecks the place and gets blood everywhere." Ordered one of the drinkers and a full glass appeared from below to be placed at his elbow.

The giant came lumbering toward Dickie who moved hurriedly down the bar into a corner and sat cowering on the floor. The giant knocked the arm of a drinker who was just raising a glass to his lips.

"Watch me glass, watch me glass....." He turned to see the giant towering over him. The giant slammed down the table leg he was carrying to smash the glass to pieces. "That's better." Smiled the drinker and made himself scarce.

A huge paw came down to pick Dickie up by the front of his shirt.

"I beg of you, sir, spare me, think of my wife and my little children." Dickie had his hands joined in prayer held up to the glaring face of the giant. The arm with the table leg was raised high.

"Not here, Rufus." Two men sat smoking pipes at a nearby table playing draughts. "This is a new set, you wrecked the last ones we had, we couldn't get the blood off 'em." Said one of them not bothering to take his eyes from the game.

"Oh, yeah, sorry lads." He moved away still holding his victim in the air as if he were as light as a feather.

"Lads, lads." Called Dickie.

"We know you're going to scream, mate," said the other player to Dickie, "so try and scream quietly."

"Lads, lads."Dickie was becoming frantic. "Think of my relatives who depend on me," the table leg was being raised again, the giant was growling with pleasure.

"Think of my dog, think....."

"Dog?" The arm froze in mid-air. "Have you got a dog?"

"Yes, a little dog...."

"With a black nose?"

"He does have a black nose."

"And little black eyes?"

"Two of 'em."

The giant's face softened and he lowered both Dickie and the table leg, he put a huge arm around Dickie's shoulder and dragged him over to the bar.

"'arry, a drink for me mate."

"Right away, Rufus."

"I've got a dog." Said the giant to Dickie with a proud smile.

"Ain't ya gonna bash his brains out, Rufus?" Asked an old man at Dickie's side.

"No." Said Dickie between clenched lips, "he ain't gonna bash me brains out."

"He's got birds, ain't ya?" Asked an old man of Dickie.

"Of course," Dickie took the glass of beer placed in front of him and was about to raise it to his lips, he thought he was dealing with an animal lover. "We've had birds now for....."

"I hate birds!" The giant smashed the glass in Dickie's hand with the table leg.

"So do I," smiled Dickie, "nasty little things....."

"Birds are vicious."

"Vicious, nasty creatures, I made my wife give them away, filthy little things."

"They belong in cages."

"They do, Rufus, vicious creatures, should all be in cages." Smiled Dickie."Innkeeper, another glass if you please."

"They attacked me dog."

"He was trying to eat 'em." Said the old man.

"What kind of birds were they?" Asked Dickie.

"Hawks. From the Guv'nor's mansion, they was." Said the old man.

"Hurt him, too." Said the giant.

"How big is the dog?"

"He'd fit in your hat." The old man looked at the battered bowler on Dickie's head, "and leave room for your brains, the ones you've got don't take up much room." He cackled. Dickie pretended to be watching the innkeeper coming with his fresh glass of beer and gave the old man a swift kick in the backside.

"Rufus, Rufus." He bleated.

"What is it, Uncle Daniel?"

"Uncle?" Dickie stood frozen with his glass half way in the air.

"This fool kicked me."

"I think you deserve it." Dickie let out a sigh.

"You ruined me day." Said the old man to Dickie, "I wanted to see blood."

"You stick around, Uncle," said Dickie with a frozen smile on his face, "and I promise you, you'll see blood."

"He's an old mug." Said the giant to Dickie.

"Yes, he certainly is."

The old man shuffled away slowly and said to the next drinker. "Anyway I hate dogs, shoot 'em, I say, shoot the lot of 'em."

With his arm still on Dickie's shoulder, the giant seemed to explode.

"I didn't say it, I didn't say it." Said Dickie with his glass halfway to his lips, the giant glared down at him and then at the glass, "mind me glass," he smiled weakly, the giant took in a long breath and Dickie tried to save his beer, "smash...smash the glass." Thinking the giant would not do so.

Rufus obliged him and left him holding the dismembered handle in his hand, he grabbed Dickie about the head with his arm and dragged him across the floor as he went after Uncle Daniel.

"Rufus, I say, Rufus." Pleaded Dickie as he gasped for air. The giant lightly tapped his uncle on the head and dropping the table leg took up the unconscious old man in the other arm. With an angry growl he kicked over one of the tables.

"He's gone berserk, he'll kill the lot of us, let's get out of here." Everyone in the room made a wild rush for the door. Using Dickie and his uncle, Rufus spun around to knock them all back against the far wall. He threw Uncle Daniel at them and then raised Dickie over his head.

"Rufus, Rufus, I like dogs."

The giant growled and threw him at them. He fell among them as they all lay scattered about, then as they got to their feet Dickie was raised and caught in the crush as a fresh attack was made at the door.

"Lads, lads," suddenly the press of bodies brought him face to face with the giant who was busily knocking down everyone he could, Dickie stood transfixed as the giant grabbed him by the lapels of his coat with one hand and a giant fist came roaring into his chin.

Dickie was bodily lifted into the air and flew backwards to slam against the wall and slide down to the floor unconscious.

When he woke up a short time later he found he was sitting on Uncle Daniel's chest. He got to his feet and stood swaying. His bowler hat was gone, his coat hung in threads about his shoulders, one of his trouser legs was gone and so was one of his shoes.

He shook his head and then moaned as he realised that was a mistake. He stood holding his throbbing head and looked through glazed eyes to see Rufus just finishing off the innkeeper with the table leg.

The giant swayed with exhaustion and lumbered over to the bar to lean against it. His chest was heaving as he watched Dickie stumble over to lean on the bar just down from him. With an effort Rufus stood up and turned to face Dickie.

"I better finish you off as well." He clenched his fists as he panted for breath. He took one step toward Dickie who calmly picked up the table leg from the bar where the giant had placed it and raised it over his head. Rufus just stood there, he was too exhausted to do anything else.

"Don't take one more step." Warned Dickie. The giant did so and the leg came down with a whack. The giant stood looking at Dickie with a stupid expression on his face and then fell forward to send up a cloud of dust.

Dickie still carried the leg as he stumbled out into the middle of the room. He stood there blinking as ghostly figures got unsteadily to their feet to nurse sore heads or damaged limbs.

"Anymore of you blighters feel like a fight, come on." Dickie stood aggressively.

"Ain't you done enough damage?" Came the voice of Uncle Daniel lying on the floor.

"Come on, old man, I'd like to put a dent in your head."

"Put that thing down," said one of the men in the corner of the room getting to his feet unsteadily.

"D'you want to take it off me, see what I did to Rufus?" He pointed to the giant.

The man came lumbering at him and Dickie raised his arm quickly over his head, as he raised the leg quickly backwards it came into contact with something.

Dickie froze, with wide eyes the man stopped and went backwards, all around the room they all stood silently looking at something on the floor behind Dickie.

"What are you all looking at?" He didn't dare look.

"He's knocked out the constable." Said one.

"He's knocked out the constable." A few voices repeated.

Dickie raised his eyes to the roof.

"Please, God, don't let it be me they're talking about." He turned slowly and looked down at the floor then raised his head to the roof. "Don't you hear these prayers up there?" He dropped the leg and was about to take to his heels. The semi-conscious policeman managed to grab his foot in a vice-like grip. "Help, police, help!" Called Dickie instinctively.

Dickie sat in misery on the edge of the bed in the cell, his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. He sighed in misery. The sun streamed in through the only window above his head.

A policeman came along the corridor to stand at the door made up of bars. "Got some visitors for you."

A smiling George, a smiling Charlie and a smiling Grace appeared. Dickie fled to the furthest corner to cower in fear.

"Can we go in?" George asked the policeman.

"Sorry, sir. You've got ten minutes." He walked off.

"Dickie, old son, how are you?" Asked George.

"Fine." Gulped Dickie.

"Have they treated you well, lad, did they feed you?" Asked Charlie.

"Yes, they gave me a good breakfast."

"Look at the state of your clothes, Richard, dear." Said Grace.

"I'm comfortable."

"We'll send you some fresh clothes later." Smiled George.

"Aren't you going to greet your family?" Asked Charlie.

"That wall, George, that wall weren't my fault."

"We know that, Dickie." Smiled Charlie.

"That yank bloke, he did it."

"We're sorry, Dickie, aren't we George?"

"We certainly are, Charlie."

"Aren't you going to come to us?" Asked Grace.

They all stood smiling and holding out their hands through the bars. Timidly Dickie took a step forward and then another one, then he began to chuckle and they all laughed and suddenly he was at the bars.

While his brothers each took a hand to shake, Grace stroked his face.

"It's alright for me to come home, then?"

"Of course it is," soothed Grace, "once we get this terrible business out of the way."

"Why were you fighting, Dickie?"Asked George.

"I didn't start it, some overgrown maniac went berserk, it was horrible, horrible."

"I said that, didn't I, Charlie, I said it wasn't our dear brother who would begin such a thing?"

"You did, George, they were your exact words."

"Richard, dear, do you remember those coins you had?" Asked Grace.

"Coins?" Frowned Dickie.

"You know, those silly little things from Singapore or something?"

"Oh, yeah, I remember."

"You used some didn't you?" Asked George.

"I was cheated, I was......."

"We know that, Dickie," smiled Charlie, "but you've still got some haven't you?"

"Oh, yeah, I still got some."

"Where are they, Richard, dear?"

"Here, in my......" He patted his non-existent coat pocket. "What do you know?"

"What is it, Richard dear?"

"I've lost the damn things, I must have lost them at the inn." Three faces were looking at him with frozen smiles. "They weren't important, were they?"

Down the corridor at his table the policeman was just pouring himself a cup of tea.

"Help, police, help!" He dropped the pot and ran up the corridor. The two brothers had Dickie pulled against the bars by his arms, George was thumping him on the top of the head, while Charlie was stamping on the toes of his bare foot and then kicking him in the shin, Grace was busy choking the life out of him with her bare hands.

The constable got in among them and freed Dickie who limped to the furthest corner and stood rubbing his throat.

"You'll have to leave; all of you will have to leave." Ordered the constable.

"You better pray, Dickie," said George shaking his fist through the bars, "pray they lock you away for a long time if we can't find those coins."

"It's no good my praying, He doesn't listen."

The constable escorted them down the corridor while Dickie limped over to his bed to sit on the edge. He alternated rubbing the top of his head, his chin where the giant struck him, his throat, a painful shin and sore toes. He was muttering to himself when the policeman returned to poke his face through the bars.

"Don't worry, son, when a bloke becomes a criminal some families take it that way, I've seen a lot of 'em. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Yeah, thanks." As the constable walked away Dickie limped to the bars, "who are you calling a criminal?" Then painfully he hobbled back to the bed.

He sat in misery, with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands.

* * * * *

# Chapter 9

Clarence came into the garden at the back of the house to pick up Haddington, Lee and Cloud and lead them back to Haddington's office.

As Haddington walked along beside Clarence smoking a cigar he thought about their conversation nearly an hour earlier.

"I have a feeling you're going to do something foolish tonight, Your Lordship."

"I can usually be depended upon to do something foolish nearly every night, Clarence." He poured himself a drink and walked back to his desk to sit down facing Clarence, who sat on the other side of the desk nursing a half empty glass.

"You know what I'm talking about."

"Why not spell it out for me, Clarence, perhaps your idea of my foolishness and my idea are completely different."

"You're going to publicly declare Jerome Lee to be your grandson."

"The thought had occurred to me." Smiled Haddington.

"I have a feeling in my bones, sir, that you are firmly resolved to do so, and if you did, you'd be acting out of blind sentiment. Lee and Cloud are two frauds, confidence tricksters. I know you've taken quite a liking to this Lee fellow, but don't you see its part of their game that he should be as likeable and as sociable as he possibly can?"

Haddington took a drink and sat back in his seat to swallow it slowly. Poor, loyal old Clarence, he thought. How could the old man tell him about the mental struggle he had been undergoing, how could he tell him that he was almost on the point of declaring someone else to be that grandson? Someone else he'd rather not consider, but it looked as though Lee had lost out on the most important battle of all.

How could he tell how he had taken a special liking to the young Marlebone woman? He wanted her in his family, he felt absolutely confident that he could leave the estates in her strong and capable hands.

It looked certain that she and young Winterhaiming would be making an announcement of their own tonight. It would be a hard blow to Lee, but he was young, he'd recover.

What was it about that young woman that was so damn attractive, was it because she was so much like....

"I said, if you would just give me one hour, Your Lordship?"

"Pardon?" Haddington was coming out of his thoughts.

"I ask you not to mention your decision to a living soul for at least one hour."

"Of course, but why?"

"Because I will be back in this office in one hour with a confession."

"That'll be interesting."

One hour later Haddington, Lee, Clarence and Cloud came striding down the corridor discussing the weather.

Sir Rupert heard them coming and panicked, he stood outside Haddington's office and spun around nervously not knowing what to do, finally he opened the door and stepped inside. He looked around but could see nowhere to hide, he bounded across the room to get behind the drawn curtains at one of the windows.

Within seconds they came marching in.

"Fix everybody a drink, will you, Two-Refs?" Asked Haddington as he went behind his desk. Cloud sat down in one of the chairs on the other side of the desk, Clarence closed the door and stood with his hands behind his back as he watched Lee and Cloud with careful eyes.

"Now, Clarence, what is this all about?" Asked Haddington.

"I am giving these two gentlemen a final chance to reveal just who they are."

"That's easy," smiled Cloud, "the boy here is a fighter and I'm his manager."

"I'm talking about your fraudulent claim to be the grandson of Lord Haddington."

"I'm not Clem's grandson." Said Cloud.

"I should hope not," said Haddington and Cloud looked at him, "if you were do you know how old that would make me?"

"I'm talking about your boy here." Said Clarence as Lee walked over to hand Haddington and Cloud a drink. He went back to the side table to pick up a glass for himself and for Clarence and went over to hand it to the angry solicitor.

"What makes you think my boy here isn't Clem's grandson?"

"I see." Clarence walked over to the drawn curtain. "You're compelling me to expose you, is that it?

"Afraid so, Clarence, old boy."

"Then I'm going to show you a sight that should strike terror into both your hearts." He pulled a cord that half opened the curtains to show Sir Rupert standing with his head turned sideways a hand up to his ear. Clarence was looking at the two to watch their reactions.

"I'm sorry, Clarence," Cloud was shaking his head, "it just don't seem to be striking any terror in my heart, what about you, Two-Refs?"

"Nope."

"Well, it's certainly striking terror into my heart." Said Haddington taking a long drink.

Clarence looked around and grimaced with impatience, he reached over to grab Sir Rupert by the arm and dragged him to the door.

"What in the name of Heaven were you doing in there, Sir Rupert?" Asked Clarence. Sir Rupert pointed to his throat and opened his mouth a couple of times but nothing came out. "Never mind." Said Clarence impatiently as he opened the door, bundled him out and closed it in his face. He went back to the curtain.

"Are you there, Inspector?"

"I am, sir." Came a mournful voice.

"Come out if you will, please."

"Certainly, sir." A thin bony hand took a grip on the edge of the curtain and pulled it aside to reveal the mysterious stranger in the cloak and deerstalker hat.

"I present to you, gentlemen," said Clarence, "Inspector Randolph Roberts of Scotland Yard."

"At your service, sir."

"You're not Roberts of the Yard?" Asked Haddington with a face of awe.

"Ah, no....no, I'm not, Your Lordship."

"Yes, you are." Said Clarence.

"Ah, yes, yes, I am, sir, Wandolph Woberts of Scotland Yard."

"Wandolph Woberts." Said a startled Haddington.

Lee leaned down to whisper to Cloud. "So that's what Woger the tree meant."

"Woger the tree?"

"What brings you this way, Inspector?" Asked Haddington.

"I was......... I was......." He scratched the side of his head.

"You were conducting an enquiry, I believe, Inspector." Said Clarence helpfully.

"Ah, yes, sir, so I was, I was conducting an enquiry."

"I bet he keeps the criminal element on their toes." Muttered Cloud to himself.

"Just what kind of an enquiry was it, Inspector?" Asked Haddington.

"Ah, it was.....it was........" He was scratching his head again.

"It was to do with two confidence tricksters from America, I believe, Inspector." Said Clarence.

"Oh, yes, thank you, sir, that's right, it was to do with....ah, to do....."

"Not with two confidence tricksters?" Asked Haddington.

"Yes, sir, that's right, how clever of you to know."

"They're not from America, are they?" Asked Cloud.

"As a matter of fact, sir, they are." He took out a notebook, "I have weason to believe that both these gentlemen are in this awea, and are pweying on some poor, unsuspecting soul."

"They both sound like nasty pieces of work, wouldn't you agree, Smokey?"

"Absolutely, Clem."

"You gentlemen may choose to treat this as some kind of humorous joke." Said Clarence, "but I can assure you that it is a very serious matter."

"What are you talking about, Clarence, we are treating it seriously. And I'm sure my two guests will agree with me." Said Haddington.

Lee nodded silently.

"Look at me," said Cloud, "I'm not smiling, you can't get any more serious than that."

"Of course not." Agreed Haddington.

"Perhaps, Inspector, you could tell of what activities you believe these two confidence tricksters are at present indulging themselves in?" Asked Clarence.

"I believe they are at pwesent, sir, pweying on some poor, unsuspecting soul."

"In this area?" Asked Haddington.

"I believe so, Your Lordship."

"That makes two poor unsuspecting souls?" Said Cloud.

"We are, by all indications, up to our ears in poor unsuspecting souls." Said Haddington trying to be grim.

"Oh, no, Your Lordship, there's only one."

"What? One trickster?"

"He must have the feet run off him flying from one poor unsuspecting soul to another." Said Cloud.

"No, no, sir, there's only one poor unsuspecting soul."

"The poor soul." Said Haddington, shaking his head.

"The poor unsuspecting soul." Put in Cloud.

"Gentlemen......." Clarence was trying to keep control of his temper.

"When I said there were two I meant, ah......ah......there were two...."

"Two confidence tricksters." Said Haddington.

"From America." Said Cloud.

"Quite wight, quite wight," said the Inspector, "two confidence twicksters from America."

"As I suspected all along." Said Haddington grimly.

"You have, Your Lordship?" The Inspector was startled.

"I have." Haddington lit a cigar, "now, Inspector, have you got any clues as to who these two villains may happen to be?"

"But, I thought.......ah.....I thought." He waved a hand vaguely in the direction of Cloud and Lee.

"It's no good asking them, they're visitors." Said Haddington.

"Oh, of course, I won't ask them then." The Inspector took a seat to sit in mournful silence.

"Oh, my God." Said Clarence in exasperation. "You don't need to ask them, Inspector."

"Why not?"

"They're Americans."

"I know that."

"We're not detectives." Said Cloud.

"Pwecisely." Said the Inspector.

"The boy here is a fighter and I'm his manager."

"Pwecisely." Said the Inspector to Clarence, "the boy there is a fighter and this is his manager."

"Two men from America." Pointed out Clarence.

"We're American." Smiled Cloud.

"Of course, two men from America would make you.....ah....ah....."

"American." Said Cloud.

"Pwecisely."

"Inspector," said Clarence holding his temper with the greatest effort. "This is Mr Cloud and Mr Lee from America."

"How do you do, gentlemen?" He waved a tired hand. "Let me see, you're the......"

"Manager." Said Cloud.

"And that makes you the...."

"Fighter." Said Lee.

"Inspector, they are the guests of his Lordship."

"Are they really, Your Lordship, they are very fortunate......"

"Your enquiry, Inspector." Put in Clarence.

"Oh, yes.....my.....ah.....ah......"

"Enquiry." Said Haddington.

"Yes, my enquiry."

"The confidence-tricksters." Put in Cloud.

"Yes, the confidence-twicksters."

"And the poor unsuspecting soul." Smiled Haddington.

"Yes, yes, the poor unsuspecting soul."

"I expect you're eager to get back on their trail." Smiled Haddington.

"Yes, I am...ah....ah....."

"Eager?" Asked Cloud.

"Gentlemen......." Clarence was finding it very difficult to contain himself much longer.

"We won't keep you, Inspector."

"Very kind of you I'm sure, Your Lordship," he got to his feet, "I'll be saying goodbye for the moment....."

"Good grief." Mumbled Clarence.

".....it's been a pleasure meeting you, sir." He shook Cloud's hand, "I hope your manager......"

"Manages?" Asked Cloud helpfully.

"Pwecisely, old man, pwecisely." He was walking toward the door.

"Inspector." Clarence flew across the room to grab him by the arm.

"Oh, I say, steady on, you're......... you're........ "

"Hurting my arm?" Cloud, helpful as usual suggested.

"How about tearing out my throat?" Asked Clarence angrily as he dragged the Inspector back to his chair.

"You haven't got me by the thwoat, sir."

"I can fix that, if you wish, Inspector."

"Do you realise, Clarence, you are hindering a member of the police force in the line of his duty?" Asked Haddington.

"Quite wight, sir."

"Do I have to spell it out to you, Inspector?"

"No, sir, I am capable of seeing things for myself."

"Well?"

"Quite well, thank you, sir."

"Oh, my God." Clarence was beside himself.

"Wait a moment." Haddington got to his feet, his face a mask of shock, "Inspector, are you trying to say that you suspect my two guests here of being these foul confidence-tricksters?"

"Oh, no, Your Lordship."

"Yes, he is." Said Clarence.

"Yes, Your Lordship, I am." Amended the Inspector.

Haddington fell back in his seat to all appearances a broken man. "Don't take it quite so hard, Your Lordship." Soothed the Inspector.

"I'm a shattered man. A man of shame in the sight of his friends. Shunned by his peers, a recluse forced to lock himself away from the world."

"Oh, no, Your Lordship, you've been saved." Smiled the Inspector.

"Your Lordship ......." Said Clarence icily.

"My life is over. I am finished. A man of the past, a shuffling figure of scorn and abuse." He held his hand to his head. "Do you realise what you've done to me, Inspector?"

"I am sorry, Your Lordship."

"The gross insult, the slurred word of contempt? I? I? A poor, unsuspecting soul? Never poor in me life, an obsession with suspecting and as for the final description, I know a vicar who'd argue about whether I even have one."

Cloud and Lee burst into applause, the Inspector nervously joined in.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Haddington stood up and bowed, "Some have said that I am the equal of Beerbohn-Tree himself." Smiled Haddington.

"You've done this to him." Said Clarence coldly to Cloud indicating the old Lord.

"Have I?" Smiled Cloud, "gee, thanks, Clarence, and I thought you didn't like me." He patted Clarence on the shoulder.

"What are you talking about?"

"I've never seen the old man enjoy himself so much, there's a little ham in everyone."

"Do be quiet, sir." He said icily going over to stand by the Inspector. "Your enquiry....."

"Good Lord, Clarence," said Haddington suddenly, "you don't mean to say this was of your doing?"

"What do you mean, Your Lordship?"

"Was it your doing that got this poor gentleman all the way from London?"

"As a matter of fact, Your Lordship........." Began the Inspector nodding his head.

"No, it was not." Said Clarence.

"No, it was not." He finished, shaking his head.

"I did point out to the Inspector here that there were two suspicious characters in the area."

"That's wight, sir, two suspicious characters."

"And a poor, unsuspecting soul?"

"Yes, sir, and a poor......" He was nodding again.

"Nothing of the kind." Said Clarence.

".........nothing like that, sir." He finished, shaking his head.

"I merely pointed out there were two suspicious characters that could bear looking into."

"How?" Asked Cloud.

"How what?" Asked Clarence.

"How did you point it out to the Inspector?"

"That's easy." Said Clarence.

"Very easy, sir." Said the Inspector.

Everybody was looking at the Inspector, who sat calmly staring into space.

"Well, how, Inspector?" Asked Cloud finally.

"How what, sir?"

"How did....."

"I sent a telegram." Said Clarence hurriedly.

"That's wight, sir." Smiled the Inspector.

"Is that all?" Asked Haddington.

"Yes, Your Lordship, I weceived the......"

"Inspector, can we get to the point?" Asked Clarence impatiently.

"If you wish, sir." He continued to sit calmly staring into space.

"Inspector?" Asked Haddington.

"Yes, Your Lordship?"

"We were getting to the point, weren't we?"

"Of course, Your Lordship." He sat waiting calmly once again.

"Oh, my God." Sighed Clarence between clenched teeth. "Inspector, do you, or do you not have reason to suspect that Mr Cloud and Mr Lee here are a pair of confidence men making a fraudulent claim on his Lordship's estate?"

"You don't?" Asked Haddington in mock, stern surprise.

"Oh, no, Your Lordship." He was shaking his head.

"Yes, you do." Said Clarence.

"That's wight, Your Lordship." He was nodding his head.

"Clarence, should I be directing my questions to the Inspector or to you?"

"To the Inspector, Your Lordship."

"He doesn't seem exactly certain just what he's about without some prompting from you."

"The Inspector is in command of the affair and has all the facts at his fingertips."

"Really?" Haddington didn't believe it. "So, Inspector, you question the integrity of my two guests, do you?"

"Ah.....ah......"

"He does." Said Clarence.

"I do."

"I certainly hope you've got good reason to make such charges." Said Haddington sternly.

"Ah.......ah........."

"He has."

"I have."

"Has he, Clarence?"

"He has, Your Lordship."

"I have, Your Lordship."

"I just can't make up my mind, Clarence, whether to question the Inspector through you or direct."

"You may question the Inspector direct, Your Lordship."

"Can I?"

"Yes."

"You said, Inspector, you had good reason, would you be so kind as to describe that reason?" Asked Haddington, the Inspector sat staring into space. "Inspector?"

"Inspector." Hissed Clarence.

"Sorry, sir, I just dwopped off."

"His Lordship was asking you a question, Inspector."

"Of course he was, sir."

"Well?"

"Pardon?"

"Clarence, wouldn't it be easier for me to just ask you the questions?"

"The Inspector will answer all your questions, Your Lordship, won't you, Inspector?"

"Of course, sir."

"I know I'm going to regret this," said Haddington, "but I'll try once more. What good reason do you have for questioning my two guest's integrity?"

"Pardon?"

"I knew it."

"For God's sake, inspector, the evidence, you have evidence."

"Do I?"

"Good grief." Said Clarence.

"Oh, yes, of course I have," he made a display of taking a notebook from his pocket, "now, Mr Lee....."

"I'm Mr Cloud that's Mr Lee." Smiled Cloud.

"Couldn't you pretend to be Mr Lee," said Haddington, "just for the present. If we confuse the fellow any more we'll be here all day."

"Inspector," said Clarence, "couldn't you tell us this evidence you have?"

"Mr Lee claims he has a locket containing a photograph of Lord Haddington's daughter is this so, sir?" The Inspector asked Lee.

"Yes, it is." Nodded Lee.

"How long have you had that locket, sir, if I may ask?"

"All my life."

"What the Inspector means," said Clarence, "is how long you've had the locket in your personal possession?"

"All my....." Lee hesitated. "Not long."

"When exactly did it come into your personal possession?" Asked Clarence, the room was silent now and strangely very tense.

"Not long...." Lee hesitated again.

"Not long before you left America to come here?" Asked a grim Clarence.

"Surely that's not import....."

"Please, Your Lordship," Clarence held up his hand, "Mr Lee has not answered the question, and I suggest it's very important."

"Alright, it came into my personal possession not long before I left America."

"Exactly how did it come into your possession?"

"Smokey and I went to the orphanage where I was brought up."

"I thought you said most of the records were burnt in a fire?"

"Perhaps I should come in here?" Smiled Cloud.

"Please do, Mr Cloud." Said Clarence.

"When it came to paper records the old dam.....lady in charge of the orphanage was pretty careless, but she was extra careful about things like that. Wasn't she, Two-Refs?" Lee nodded. "She had Two-Refs records carefully put in a box, and carefully labelled."

"Who gave him the name of Jerome Lee?" Asked Haddington.

"The orphanage did." Answered Cloud.

"Had you seen the locket before then?" Asked Clarence.

"I knew there were some records before the fire, but I thought everything had been destroyed."

"And you and Mr Cloud went to the orphanage, you were given a box and it contained a locket with a photograph and a strand of hair?"

"Yes."

"When did you first get the idea that you might be the grandson of Lord Haddington?"

"I'm to blame for that." Said Cloud lighting a cigarette.

"Are you?" Asked Clarence grimly.

"I saw a drawing of Clem's daughter in one of the newspapers and I was struck at how it reminded me of Two-Refs."

"This drawing would be in connection with a story detailing that Lord Haddington was in search of his grandson?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"I imagine it gave a good description of His Lordship's daughter, height, colour of eyes, and so on?"

"That I can't say, all I know is that drawing stood out in my mind."

"If we were dealing with a cunning, criminal mind, this is what that cunning, criminal mind could have done. He had a description of the daughter and he had a likeness to go on. He could simply have purchased a locket from a local pawn shop, done the same with a photograph that bore a resemblance to the young woman, finally, with all the lady friends he had, surely one must have had hair of the same complexion. What do you think of that plan, Mr Cloud?"

"It ain't impossible." Smiled Cloud calmly.

"Do you know of a Mr Fedelmann's pawn shop in Leonard Square, Chicago?"

"That area is lousy with pawn shops." Said Cloud shrugging his shoulders.

"You didn't buy a locket from that shop not long before you and Mr Lee returned to the orphanage?"

"Not me, pal."

"Inspector." Clarence snapped his fingers at the Inspector who sat watching the questioning with interest.

"Pardon?" He said with a start.

"Your notebook, man, your notebook."

"Of course." He held the notebook out to Clarence.

"Don't give it to me, read Mr Cloud your evidence."

"Evidence?"

"What evidence have you got, Inspector?" Asked Haddington.

"Evidence, Your Lordship?"

"Never mind." Said Clarence exasperation. "The Inspector has notes from a report by a detective in America," Clarence was talking to Cloud, "in which it is stated that a gentleman similar to yourself was seen purchasing a locket from a pawn shop in Leonard Square shortly before you and Mr Lee appeared at the orphanage to claim the records."

"Is this true, Inspector?" Asked Haddington.

"Ah.......ah.........."

"It's true, Your Lordship." Said Clarence.

"It's all true, Your Lordship."

"This report is by an American detective, what I mean is, he wasn't with Scotland Yard?"

"Ah.....ah....."

"It was an American detective." Said Clarence.

"He was American, Your Lordship." Said the Inspector.

"Do you mean to say the American police were investigating this matter?"

"Yes..." The Inspector was nodding.

"Not the American police." Said Clarence.

"No, Your Lordship, not the American police."

"Actually," said Clarence, "he was a private detective hired by myself, I turned the report over to the Inspector."

"Yes." Nodded the Inspector.

"This detective fellow said the chap in question looked like Mr Cloud?"

"Ah......ah......."Stuttered the Inspector.

"He did." Said Clarence.

"Yes, Your Lordship, he did.

"Was it you, Mr Cloud?"

"Not even remotely, Clem."

"Of course he'd deny it, Your Lordship." Said Clarence.

"The point is, Clarence, you need more proof than that to convince me."

"Your Lordship is being very foolish." Clarence was very cold as he continued to look at Cloud calmly smoking on a cigarette. "Perhaps if we could discuss it in private...."

"I'll not discuss this matter except in the presence of my guests. If you're accusing them of being frauds my own view is that the evidence needs to be more substantial."

"You have an Inspector here from Scotland Yard."

"I realise that."

"Are you dismissing his charges?"

"If that's all the proof he has, I most certainly am."

Clarence looked at Cloud and Lee with cold anger, then stormed over to the window to stand with his back to the room, his arms folded on his chest. "I think that settles the matter, gentlemen," Haddington said to Lee and Cloud, "I do hope you'll forgive me for having dragged you both in here to waste your time?"

"Think nothing of it, Clem." Smiled Cloud as he and Lee walked toward the door. "Oh, nice to have met you, Inspector."

"My pleasure, sir." He got to his feet to bow as the two Americans left the room and closed the door. Then he was about to follow them.

"Please don't go just yet, Inspector." Smiled Haddington. "Now, Clarence, perhaps you'll explain what this is all about?"

"There's nothing to explain, Your Lordship."

"Woberts of the Yard," snorted Haddington, "I may well be a poor unsuspecting soul, but I'm certainly not stupid."

"Oh, no, Your Lordship......" Began the Inspector.

"Be quiet!" Snapped Clarence, and the Inspector sat down with a thump in his chair.

"His name's Mason, isn't it?" Haddington indicated the sitting Inspector.

"That's wight, Your Lordship, Wandolph Mason." He smiled.

"You knew all the time." Said Clarence grimly.

"A clerk in your own office."

"A junior clerk, Your Lordship." Smiled Mason.

"At present he's a junior clerk in my office." Said Clarence. "There are grave doubts at to what he'll be in the future."

"Oh, come now, Clarence, he did a very good job."

"Thank you, Your Lordship." Smiled Mason.

"I think that will be all now, Mr Mason," said Haddington lighting a cigar, "unless Mr Clarence has something further he requires of you."

"No."

"Shall I go back to London, Mr Clarence?"

"Yes."

"I'll say good day to you, Your Lordship."

"Good day to you, Mr Mason."

"There is one thing, Your Lordship," said Mason as he was about to walk to the door. "That fowest of yours is a stwange place, there seems to be more people running about in it during the night than in the day."

"Very true, sir," smiled Haddington, "just recently we do seem to have had a rash of odd characters stalking it's byways." He was looking levelly at Mason as he spoke.

"Only the other night......"

"For Heaven's sake, Mason, get going." Snapped Clarence. Mason's face fell as he bowed to Haddington, turned and left the room. Clarence sat down glumly in a chair.

"Just what did you expect to happen, Clarence?" Asked Haddington as he smoked calmly on his cigar.

"My one thought was that you would come to your senses. All the proof Mason said he has is true."

"Yes, I know that. If Mason was acting under your orders, as I know he was, then I know the proof would be actual and true to the best of your ability."

"Are you saying, Your Lordship, that you've rejected the possibility that you may be the victim of a fraud?"

"I'm not a complete fool, Clarence, and it causes me great surprise you should think I am. We're talking about a lot of money, the perfect magnet to such types as you seem to be very concerned about."

"With good reason."

"I'm grateful for your concern, Clarence, I know you're only interested in my welfare, but how do you know this Winterhaiming fellow isn't a fraud?"

"He's not. I've had a thorough investigation of his background conducted. I am convinced that he is your grandson."

"Hmmmmm." Haddington leaned back in his chair to smoke on his cigar. "I would appreciate it, Clarence, if you'd leave me to my thoughts for now."

Clarence nodded silently, got to his feet and quietly left the room.

Haddington let out a long sigh and sat looking across the desk at a framed photograph of his wife.

The party that night was a dull, anti-climactic affair only the invited visitors seemed to be having a good time. Haddington and his party were glum and took very little interest. All of them were suffering from some disappointment.

Clarence was disappointed that Haddington had not made the announcement that young Winterhaiming was his grandson, something that would have put Clarence's mind at rest.

Haddington was disappointed that Clarence had put doubts in his mind about the announcement he had intended to make and had wanted to make and also the fact that Cynthia and Winterhaiming seemed to have become closer with secret smiles and whisperings.

Sir Rupert was disappointed because the torturing of his conscience had prevented him from enjoying himself at all.

Lee had good reason to be disappointed, early in the evening he had come upon Cynthia, Winterhaiming and the vicar.

"......arrangements just could not be completed at such short notice." The vicar was saying. When Cynthia caught sight of Lee approaching she had quickly changed the subject.

As far as Lee was concerned his worst fears were confirmed.

Cloud was disappointed because he knew his friend was disappointed.

Cynthia and Winterhaiming were disappointed because their arrangements had not been finalised.

Lady Marlebone was disappointed because Reggie was dragging his feet and left room for the possibility that that awful American could do something and upset everything. She was still reeling from what Sir Rupert told her he had heard that afternoon.

The party swirled all about them as they sat at their table in glum silence each taking disinterested sips of their drinks.

Everybody else was determined to have an enjoyable night and chose to ignore the long faces of His Lordship and his house guests.

Marlowe was having a quiet drink with his wife as they watched the stately waltzes of the dancers, when Haddington came by with his chin on his chest, his hands behind his back, a silent Clarence was walking by his side. The naturalist excused himself and went quickly to join them.

They were walking slowly up one side of the room in the centre of which the happy couples were dancing to their heart's content.

"Good evening, Your Lordship, good evening, Mr Clarence."

"Good evening." Said Haddington, Clarence nodded silently.

"The night looks like being a huge success."

"Yes."

"I believe you have an extra guest, Your Lordship?"

"Extra guest?"

"A cat."

"You mean Miss Blackie?" Haddington smiled a little for the first time that night. "Yes, she has decided that she will take up residence in my house for the time being."

"I've come across traces of her in the forest. Mr Garth is determined to save his lads from her deprivations. I believe if he knew the truth he'd be most disappointed."

"What truth is that, sir?" Asked Clarence.

"The fact of the matter is that I believe the trees have taken rather a fancy to her."

"Indeed." Said Clarence trying to sound interested.

"I wouldn't be at all surprised." Chuckled Haddington his low spirits forgotten for the moment. "She's a wonderful little creature, she's stolen the hearts of everyone in my house, especially the servants, hasn't she, Clarence?"

"Yes."

"Even Gilmore, of all things." It was obvious that just the thought of her cheered Haddington up and he stood to watch the dancing and began to tap his foot to the music. "Do you know, Marlowe, I woke up one morning and she was sleeping at my side, snoring?" While he and Marlowe shared their amusement they failed to notice two elderly ladies seated just behind them fanning themselves.

Two pairs of ever ready ears focused with a great deal of interest on the speakers. They waited with bated breath.

"So she sleeps with you, does she?"

"Not every night, you know how fickle these creatures can be? She's such a loveable little thing I suppose she shares her favours around."

The fans stopped, there was a gasp for breath from two throats, two pairs of eyes began to widen.

"I saw her asleep in the forest one afternoon." Said Marlowe.

"It can never equal the feel of that lovely body at your side first thing in the morning." Smiled Haddington. The two listeners struggled with a mammoth effort to fight off the fainting spells that threatened to engulf them. "She looks up at me with one eye and stretches that beautiful black body of hers and rolls over to go back to sleep."

The struggle was too much, but at the mention of the word 'black' they surrendered in total, one fell one side while the second fell to the other to the surprise of their husbands into whose laps they fainted.

"She does seem to be a dear little thing." Said Marlowe.

"There can be no doubt about that, even Clarence will agree with that."

"Yes."

They heard the commotion behind them and turned to see the two ladies being comforted.

"Dear me," said Haddington going over to take one of the unconscious lady's wrists to pat it. "What happened?"

"Overcome by the heat and excitement, Your Lordship." Apologised one of the husbands. His wife opened one eye to see the monster patting her wrist, she was overcome once again before she could pull her wrist free from those, claw-like grasping hands.

With a shrug of his shoulders Haddington joined Marlowe and Clarence as they continued to stroll down the hall.

He was wringing his hands as he walked up and down the room in agitation. He was trying to collect his thoughts as the vicar, who had been in no rush to leave the merrymaking, sat down in a chair facing him. With a smile he noticed a bottle of wine and a glass at his elbow.

"I wanted desperately to see you, vicar."

"Of course you did." The vicar had poured himself a drink and had half-emptied the glass in quick gulps.

"I am in urgent need of your ministrations."

"Of course you are." The smile he wore was too wide, his eyes too sparkling.

"Vicar I......" Began Sir Rupert.

"This bottle is almost finished, my boy, you don't happen to have another, do you? I cannot minister to a soul with a dry mouth."

"Once I explain my predicament, vicar, I'll get another bottle. Vicar, I....."

"Cruel." He muttered, "that's too cruel."

"Vicar, I....."

"Would I refuse you refreshment were I in your place? No, I would not."

"I need refreshment for my soul, vicar."

"What did you say?"

"I need......"

"I heard you, what an excellent text for a sermon, I think I'll write that."

"Vicar?" The vicar was startled so much that he dropped his glass.

"I say......"

"I beg of you, listen to me. I cannot take this guilt any longer."

"If you make a habit of doing that," he pointed to the glass on the ground, "I don't wonder your conscience is bothering you." He picked up the bottle.

"Vicar!" The vicar dropped the bottle.

"I suppose you're satisfied now?"

"Vicar. A man's life ended because of me."

"I'm sure it did."

"Pardon?"

"The poor chap took his own life because of you, did he? I'm not surprised."

"He did not take....what do you mean it would not surprise you, vicar, why should anyone take their own life because of me?"

"Talking, sir, talking."

"That remark escapes me." Said Sir Rupert haughtily.

"Never mind, my boy, carry on with what you were saying."

"I've killed a man, vicar, I cut him in half with my cane."

"Cut him in half with your cane, did you?" The vicar casually crossed one leg over the other and sat watching Sir Rupert with hooded eyes.

"I can't say the face of my victim haunts me, mainly because I can't recall his face, a thin chap he was, he must have been ill because he looked green."

"So you.....despatched him?"

"Quite by accident, he was insolent, insufferably insolent."

"Why what did he say?"

"That's the point, vicar, he would not say anything no matter what my question, the fellow would not answer."

"I'm certain you asked him if he had a tongue."

"I did, repeatedly."

"No doubt."

"Not a word passed his lips."

"So in an uncontrollable rage you belaboured the poor fellow, reining blow on blow until you'd cut his body in two?"

"Not quite, vicar."

"Why not tell me in your own words how you carried out this foul deed?"

"Foul deed seems a bit strong."

"What description would you suggest, my boy?"

"A bit of an accident," Sir Rupert thought that over for a second and then nodded his head, "yes, a bit of an accident."

"Do you know who the victim was?"

"One of my brother's servants. His name was Mr Plant."

"And he looked a bit green did he?"

"He must have been very ill, vicar, a frightful green he was."

"I see, I see." The vicar did see, "how many times did you have to hit him to sever his poor, green body?"

"That's the funny thing, vicar, I jabbed at him a couple of times and....and...."

"He went to pieces?"

"Two of them, vicar."

"And you said the fellow was insolent?"

"Yes, vicar."

"It does sound as if he deserved his fate." Sir Rupert stood in surprise with his eyebrows raised. "There are certain troublesome individuals on this earth and sometimes, I believe, God turns a blind eye should the poor devils have a...a......"

"A bit of an accident?"

"Exactly. So you see, my boy, you've tortured yourself without reason, it may well be that you've done a great service to your people."

"By murdering Mr Plant?"

"Only last week my gardener despatched a Mr Weed."

"And you didn't turn him over to the authorities?"

"There was no reason to, this Weed chap had been an infernal nuisance."

"And you think God would forgive your gardener for what he did?"

"I'm certain of it."

"What a refreshing view you have, vicar."

"Mind you, I do not for one moment say you should make a habit of this sort of thing."

"Of course not, but I can think of quite a list of such characters I feel sure God would feel relieved to see despatched. My brother-in-law," Sir Rupert began to tick them off on his fingers, "the postman, a horrid chap, our butcher..."

"Sir Rupert." Said the vicar sternly and Sir Rupert hung his head. "There are times when you act with so little charity for your fellow man, I despair for the safety of your soul."

"It was meant as a jest, vicar."

"God would not be amused by such jests. I can speak for him on this matter of Mr Plant, you may consider yourself free from guilt because of the......seedy character of the victim." The vicar smiled at his clever little pun.

"You are in communication with...... Him?" Sir Rupert raised his eyes to the roof.

"Daily communication."

"I wonder, vicar, if you would draw his attention to my brother-in-law, not a soul would miss him if......."

"Sir Rupert!"

"I was jesting again, vicar." He hung his head.

"Two jests in one night," he shook his head sadly, "I don't know what the younger generation are coming to." The vicar and Sir Rupert were almost the same age. "It certainly raises doubts as to the sincerity of your confession."

"Entertain no doubts in that respect, vicar." Said Sir Rupert walking to the door. "Pity about that brother-in-law of mine." He mumbled to himself.

"Pardon?"

"Did you want some fresh wine, vicar?"

"If you please. By the by, Sir Rupert?"

"Yes?"

"What did you do with the body of Mr Plant?"

"It was buried."

"Buried, where?"

"In the garden, vicar."

"In the garden? Mr Plant was buried in the garden?" Sir Rupert nodded. "Capital, capital." Chuckled the vicar. Sir Rupert shrugged his shoulders as he reached for the door, if there was something funny in that remark he failed to see it. An odd fellow that vicar, very odd.

The door opened and Clarence came strolling in. "Good evening, Sir Rupert."

"Good evening, Clarence, the vicar and I......I....." He caught sight of Haddington standing just behind Clarence, Sir Rupert's mouth opened and closed rapidly in silence.

"Oh, dear me," said Haddington with hooded eyes, "it seems my poor brother has still lost his voice." Sir Rupert nodded and held a hand to his throat.

"Now, there's an odd thing." Said the vicar.

"It certainly is odd." Agreed Clarence.

"I see nothing odd in it." Said Haddington.

"Sir Rupert and I were having a jolly discussion about....." Sir Rupert stiffened and waved a hand frantically for the vicar to be silent then he went over to the desk in the corner to write something on a sheet of paper, came back and handed it to the seated cleric. "Say nothing." The vicar read out aloud.

Clarence and Haddington exchanged glances.

"Say nothing? About what?" Asked Haddington.

"Well, Sir Rupert and I......." Sir Rupert repeated his performance with the hand, returned to the desk to write another note and returned to hand it to the vicar. "Keep my dark secret between us." Read the cleric out loud.

"I was under the impression it was impossible for my brother to have a secret, dark or otherwise, without him repeating it up and down the country."

"An impression, I gather," smiled Clarence, "held by many." Sir Rupert looked at them coldly, his mouth working silently.

"I can assure both of you, gentlemen, Sir Rupert does have a dark secret, we were......."Sir Rupert's hand went up for silence as he scuttled over to the desk, the vicar let out a long sigh.

"It's rather exciting, isn't it?" Smiled Clarence.

"Yes, Clarence." Said a bored Haddington as he ambled over to a seat where he lit a cigar.

"I'm waiting with bated breath for the next instalment."

"Yes, Clarence."

Sir Rupert came back to hand the note to the vicar.

"Let me see." The vicar looked at the note and began to read, "my life is in your hands, vicar, I pray that you remain silent...." The note was snatched from his hand and Sir Rupert went back to the desk.

"Is his life really in your hands, vicar?" Asked Clarence.

"I hope so." Said Haddington puffing on his cigar. Sir Rupert was back.

"I beg of you, vicar." Read the vicar, "do not read anymore of....." The vicar was surprised, he looked up at Sir Rupert. "You mean those notes were just between us two?" Sir Rupert nodded. "You didn't want me to read them aloud?" With a sickly smile Sir Rupert shook his head. "I say, gentlemen, I am sorry. Apparently I'm not to read you anymore of Sir Rupert's notes."

"That is a relief." Sighed Haddington.

"I do hope you'll both cast any remembrance of what I've read from your minds."

"That's easily done, vicar." Said Haddington.

"Does that mean I'm not to be told just what this dark secret is?" Asked Clarence.

"It was only that Sir Rupert......." Began the vicar, but Sir Rupert clamped an angry hand on his shoulder. "I'm afraid so."

"What a bitter disappointment."

"Yes." Lied Haddington.

"It must be terribly upsetting, Sir Rupert," said Clarence, "to keep losing your voice, almost in mid-sentence?" Sir Rupert put on a suitably sad face and nodded. "Perhaps I can help you." Clarence walked to the door. "You wait right here."

"Don't bother, Clarence." Said Haddington impatiently, "Clarence!" But he was out the door. "Blast the fellow, sorry vicar."

"Not at all, Your Lordship," the vicar crossed one leg over the other. "What on earth do you suppose Mr Clarence has in mind to help Sir Rupert?"

"The guillotine, perhaps." Sir Rupert looked with narrowed icy eyes at his brother.

"Rather a drastic cure, wouldn't you say?" The vicar looked over at Haddington with a serious face. "I suppose it would cure....oh, I see, a joke?" He chuckled while Sir Rupert just stood clenching and unclenching his fists.

"No." Said Haddington calmly smoking his cigar.

They waited a few moments in silence then came a voice from the hallway.

"Which way, Clarence, which way? In here is he, in here?"

"Oh, no." Said Haddington. Sir Rupert beamed.

A small bow-legged, pot-bellied, bald man came striding into the room followed by Clarence.

"Doctor Haynes." Said the vicar cheerfully as he got to his feet.

"Vicar, vicar, vicar." The doctor smiled as he shook hands with the vicar.

"Doctor, doctor, doctor."

"Oh, my God." Said Haddington.

"I had no idea you were here tonight, doctor."

"Luck, vicar, luck. Some fool put the wrong address on my invitation, wrong address."

"Fancy that, Your Lordship." Said Clarence.

"Yes, fancy that." Said Haddington.

"You can't keep a good doctor down, remember that, gentlemen," said the doctor firmly, "you can never keep a good doctor down."

"I should dearly like to try that, perhaps in our pond." Mumbled Haddington.

"Warped, the lad's warped, talks to himself." Muttered the doctor to himself. "Where's my boy, where is he?" He saw Sir Rupert and bounded to his side to reach up and put his arm around Sir Rupert's shoulders, Sir Rupert had to stoop down a little. "Brought you into the world, didn't I Rupert? Gave you birth, didn't I?" The doctor smiled as Rupert nodded.

"Doctor....." Began Haddington.

"These hands did that, didn't they, lad?"

"Doctor."

"What is it? Speak up, what is it?"

"Sir Rupert is older than you."

"Are you?" Sir Rupert nodded. "Then why do you tell people I was there at your birth, why do you do that, well, answer me? Haven't you got a tongue?"

"You can't blame the lad for being confused." Said Haddington.

The doctor was looking into Sir Rupert's face as the latter's mouth opened and closed a couple of times.

"What?" Sir Rupert opened his mouth again. "I can't hear you, lad, speak up, there's nothing to fear."

"He's lost his voice." Said Clarence standing behind the doctor.

"Good Lord, boy, have you taken up ventriloquism?"

"He's lost his voice." Said Haddington.

"Who has?"

"Sir Rupert."

"Nonsense, he just spoke to me, didn't you, boy?"

Sir Rupert reached down to pick up a sheet of paper and handed it to the doctor. "What's this? I beg of you, vicar, do not...." The paper was snatched from his hand. "Are you alright, Rupert?" Sir Rupert ran over to the desk to write another note.

"Oh, my God." Sighed Haddington.

Sir Rupert came back to hand the note to the doctor.

"You've lost your voice? Lost your voice?" Sir Rupert nodded. Clarence took the note off the doctor.

"Lost my voice, he's written it twice." Clarence held up the note for Haddington to see.

"Come over here, lad." The doctor took Rupert by the arm and led him over to a chair. "I think I'll just give you an examination."

"There's a side room over there, doctor, it's more private." Said Clarence.

The doctor waved his thanks and took Sir Rupert out of the room closing the door behind him. "I never would have believed Sir Rupert's behaviour could have become any odder than it was, that is, until tonight."

"I see nothing odd in his behaviour." Said the vicar.

"It seems to me it's our usual Sir Rupert." Said Haddington, being outvoted Clarence shrugged his shoulders and let it go at that.

The sound of two throats laughing uproariously came from the small room.

"It sounds as if the doctor has wrought a miraculous cure." Smiled Clarence.

At this point Cloud came strolling through the main double doors. "Evening, fellahs, mighty dull lot out there tonight, Clem."

"Sorry, old boy, I'll try to do better the next time."

"There's some old dame out there boring the life out of everyone in sight."

"Talking about pottery?" Asked the vicar.

"Yeah, that's right."

"Stout woman, florid face?"

"Yeah. A very dull lady, a real......" The vicar sat calmly looking at Cloud who suddenly had a terrible thought. "Of course she knew all about pottery." He finished lamely.

"Nonsense, she has no idea about pottery."

"I found her interesting."

"Nonsense, she's a frightful bore."

"Just because she's your wife that doesn't give you the right to insult her." Said Cloud getting suddenly very belligerent."

"Wife? She's not my wife."

"You're talking about the vicar's sister." Said Haddington.

"Sister? Well, then she is a frightful bore." Said Cloud.

"Quite right." Agreed the vicar.

The side door burst open and the doctor came out with his arm linked in Sir Rupert's arm, he was laughing loudly but Sir Rupert had his mouth open laughing silently.

"My dear boy, what a life you've led." Laughed the doctor. "This was at fifteen, you say?" Sir Rupert nodded. "Extraordinary, absolutely extraordinary."

"Is Sir Rupert alright, doctor?" Asked Clarence.

"Of course, of course."

"What is wrong with him?" Asked the vicar.

"He's got......he's got......." Sir Rupert raced over to the desk to write a note and handed it to the doctor. "He's lost his voice, that's it, he's lost his voice."

"Thank goodness we've solved that mystery." Sighed Haddington.

"Is it serious?" Asked the vicar.

"Well......well....." The doctor scratched his chin, Sir Rupert was over at the desk to write another note and gave it to the doctor. "No, it's not serious, no."

"Sir Rupert can speak though?"

"Oh, well.....well......"

They all stood in silence as Sir Rupert went over to the desk to write and then came back to hand it to the doctor.

"Yes, doctor?"

"I can whisper." He read.

"How odd." Said Clarence." There are times, doctor, when Sir Rupert seems to get his voice back and loses it again, sometimes in the middle of a sentence."

"Yes, yes....." The doctor nodded and again they all watched Sir Rupert go over to the desk and come back. "It's a family curse." Read the doctor.

"It's the first I've ever heard of it." Said the vicar and Clarence nodded in agreement. Sir Rupert was back at the desk writing again and came over to hand the note to the doctor.

"It's a dark secret." He read aloud.

"This must be the dark secret you and Sir Rupert were discussing, vicar?"Asked Clarence.

"Oh, no, we were discussing how Sir Rupert....." Sir Rupert leapt at the vicar and pushed a sheet of paper in his mouth.

They all stood in shocked silence, finally Sir Rupert bowed to the motionless vicar with the paper in his mouth and strode quickly from the room. Haddington got slowly to his feet and walked over to the desk, he wrote a note and came back to hand it to the doctor.

"What does it say?" Asked Clarence.

"Sir Rupert is delirious." The doctor looked up as Haddington walked calmly from the room. "He didn't strike me as delirious."

"I have a feeling the vicar will disagree with you." Said Cloud.

"I see no reason why he should."

Cloud walked over to see the piles of notes written by Sir Rupert on the floor.

"Did Sir Rupert write all these?" He asked Clarence who nodded. "It's a wonder he's not suffering writer's cramp." He prodded at the notes with the toe of his boot. "There's quite a mouthful, oh, sorry vicar."

The vicar, who was far from amused, sat stiffly in his chair with the sheet of paper still in his mouth.

"Vicar, why don't you take that out of your mouth, it must be very uncomfortable for you?" Said Clarence.

"I just conducted a little test," said the vicar removing the sheet of paper to place it on a small table at his elbow. "I wondered how long it would take you gentlemen to notice my predicament and for you to come to my aid."

"All you had to do was take the thing out." Said Clarence.

"That's not the point, Mr Clarence, as a true Christian you should have come to my immediate assistance."

"I'm sorry, vicar, it's just that the Bible is not all that clear with directions to help a Christian with a sheet of paper in his mouth."

The doctor snorted and went over to the desk to write a note as they watched him in silence, he came back to hand the note to Clarence.

"I loathe theological arguments," read Clarence aloud, "I'm returning to the party. Goodnight."

The doctor waved in silence as he left the room. The vicar and Cloud watched in silence as Clarence went over to the desk to write a note and returned to hand it to Cloud.

"I'm returning to the party too." He read as Clarence strolled from the room with a smile on his face.

Cloud and the vicar exchanged a quick glance and both bounded for the desk to begin writing.

It took a great deal of manoeuvring and careful plans, mainly getting rid of Winterhaiming for more than ten minutes at a time, but finally Lee managed to get Cynthia alone.

She was lured out to one of the seats set up among the trees for the guests to cool themselves. She sat down to calmly fan herself with the impression that Winterhaiming would soon be out to join her.

Lee stepped from behind a tree to sit down at the other end of the long seat. He watched her carefully wondering what her reaction would be. He was very desperate, he sensed that time was fast running out and for all he knew it may already be too late.

"Good evening, Miss Marlebone."

She stopped her fan to look down at him expressing some surprise at his sudden appearance, a surprise she did not feel.

"Good evening, Mr Lee." She went back to fanning herself.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

He slid along the seat a little closer while she watched calmly from the corner of her eye.

"Miss Marlebone....." He cleared his throat nervously then sat in silence.

"Yes, Mr Lee?" She turned her head slightly to look at him. There was just the hint of a smile on her lips.

"Cynthia." Again he fell silent.

"Yes, Jerome?" She waited patiently for him to continue. He turned his head to look at her. His heart sped up a little when he saw how very pretty she looked in the moonlight. He smiled with what he thought was a foolish grin and blushed slightly. She smiled back revealing the tips of her pearly white teeth.

"I can't pretend any longer how I feel about you."

"Indeed, Mr Lee?"

"Yes." He sat waiting for her to say something, but she sat silently fanning herself with that slight smile on her calm face. "You are a very attractive young woman."

"Thank you."

"I hoped you might have some small feeling for me."

"You are not dislikeable," he slid closer, "a little forward," he slid back, "but on the whole not dislikeable."

"May I ask you a personal question, Cynthia?"

"I cannot stop you asking questions."

"Has Winterhaiming proposed to you?"

"That is none of your business, sir."

"It is my business, very much my business." He said grimly as he slid up beside her.

"He has broached the subject."

"You have not accepted him?" There was a pleading in his eyes as he looked into her face.

"Mr Winterhaiming is a very handsome man."

"Have you accepted him?" He put his arm behind her on the back of the seat.

"That is also none of your......"

"You can't accept him."

"Why not?" She turned her head to look at him, she was looking deeply into his eyes. He put his arm around her shoulder and with his other hand took her chin in his fingertips, he kissed her lightly on the lips. "Sir, you forget yourself." She said as she tried to draw her head back, although not very strenuously, he kissed her again, this time with more feeling.

"Cynthia!" Came the voice of Winterhaiming from the house, "where are you?"

Lee released her and moved away just a little, she sat with slightly parted lips and shining eyes, she found she was breathing heavily as she fanned herself and got to her feet. Lee got up to stand beside her.

"I must join, Reggie." She said in a soft voice.

"Cynthia." She turned to walk away but stopped with her back to Lee.

"Yes, Jerome?"

"Do you have any doubts about how deeply I....I.....how deep is my affection for you?" She turned slowly to fan herself as she watched him with that slight smile. "I want you to marry me." She just stood there and Lee waited with bated breath. She said nothing for such a long time that he thought she may not have heard the question.

"Have you been in love before, Jerome?" She finally asked.

"I won't lie to you, Cynthia, yes, I have."

"Deeply, passionately in love?"

"Many times, or at least, I thought so at the time."

"Well, I haven't," she turned to walk a little then as she went on her way, looked back, "until I met you." Then she moved off quickly toward the house.

Lee sat down with a sigh because he thought she hadn't answered the question, suddenly he brought his head up with a snap and blinked rapidly.

"What did she say?" Miss Blackie jumped up on the seat to lay down beside him watching with aloof eyes. "Did you hear what she said?" He asked her. Miss Blackie looked back at him with a calm expression that said: 'Yes, I heard, so what?'

He picked her up in his arms to whirl about madly with her, Miss Blackie put up a struggle with a look that said: 'Put me down this instant!' Lee kissed her on the head and put her down on the seat to run off after Cynthia.

'Humans! Hmmph!' Said the eyes of Miss Blackie as she began to rearrange her fur with her tongue.

Lee caught up with her as she was going back into the house on Winterhaiming's arm. He dogged their tracks until they joined a crowd standing to one side of the ballroom watching the happy dancers.

He squeezed his way through to stand beside her. Winterhaiming stood on the other side while she held his arm, he pointed out things to her while he tapped his feet to the music.

Quietly Lee moved his hand to take hers and gave it a squeeze, to his delight she returned the squeeze.

Across the room Haddington stood beside Cloud clapping to the music and to all appearances enjoying himself, but the wide smile did not reach his eyes. He was looking at Cynthia. She was listening intently to every word Winterhaiming said as she held his arm with what looked like fondness. Her face was slightly flushed, her lips parted in a pretty smile of secret happiness. Haddington's smile slipped a little as a lump caught in his throat. She looked so much like his wife so many years ago, that first night he'd asked for her hand.

To Haddington, Winterhaiming seemed to be smug and appeared to be gloating over poor Lee, but Winterhaiming had no idea Lee was even in the room.

"Hey." Dickie sat in misery on the edge of his bed, he looked up to see a thin, weedy looking man smiling between the bars of his door at him with yellow, misshapen teeth.

"Yeah?" He asked in a voice of despair.

"You the bloke in the fight at the pub yesterday?"

"Yeah, I'm the bloke."

"After some bleedin' coins, aren't ya?"

"Yeah, I'm after some bleedin' coins." Suddenly Dickie looked up. "Why?"

"Harry, the bloke what owns the pub......"

"Yeah, I know Harry." Dickie got to his feet, he dared not hope.

"He found your coins." Even though he limped, Dickie was at the door in an instant to grab his visitor through the bars by his coat lapels. "Hey leave off, leave off."

"Harry's got my coins?"

"That's what he told me. Don't tear me coat."

"Will he give them to me?"

"He said he would." Dickie let him go and he moved away from the door across the corridor, this bloke looked dangerous.

"Did he give them to you, did you bring them here?" Asked Dickie frantically.

"No."

"Where are they, I want them, give them to me."

"I ain't got 'em, mate."

"Well, where are they?"

"I told ya, Harry's got 'em, he said you can have 'em."

"He's a lovely man. A lovely, lovely man." Smiled Dickie.

"If."

"I said to myself the first time I saw.....if?" His face fell.

"If." Nodded the visitor.

"If what?" Demanded a Dickie verging on hysteria.

"If you pay for all the damage you done to his pub."

"How much is the damage?" The voice was a hoarse whisper.

"Harry reckons fifty pounds, that's all."

The constable was just pouring a cup of tea at his desk when he thought he heard a dull thud, he listened for a second shrugged his shoulders at his mistake and continued to pour his tea.

"Constable," the stranger appeared at his elbow, "constable......." He was pointing over his shoulder back up the corridor.

"Me prisoner." He gasped as he jumped to his feet and took up his keys to race to Dickie's cell. He stood at the door and sighed with relief.

"He fainted." Said the visitor.

"I can see that." The prisoner had been a large bundle of misery since his family had turned on him yesterday, Lord knows what he would have done in that state.

"What did you say to him?"

"I gave him some good news." They both walked back to the desk. "Will he be alright?"

"I'll give him a cup of tea, poor chap."

"He's a big bloke, when he fell I thought he'd go right through the floor." He smiled.

"Have you finished what you came here for?"

"Yeah."

"Well, hop it."

"Yeah, good day, constable."

Clarence was on his way to breakfast when he came upon Gilmore carrying a tray with two empty whisky bottles away from Haddington's room.

"Are they His Lordship's?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did he drink both of them?"

"Yes, sir."

"Last night?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did His Lordship leave his room last night?"

"No, sir."

"Are you sure, Gilmore?"

"Quite, sir."

"How did he sleep?"

"I believe the expression is 'like a top,' sir."

"Is he awake now?"

"Yes, sir."

"How is he?"

"He seems quite well, sir."

Haddington's door opened and a dull Lord Haddington stepped out, he wore a long miserable face.

"Good morning, Clarence, I thought I heard your voice."

"Good morning, Your Lordship, how are you feeling?"

"Oh." He let out a sigh as he stood there, "quite well."

"I'm looking forward to a jolly breakfast." Said Clarence trying to cheer him up.

"Oh, yes." He said dully.

They made their way down the stairs toward the dining room. There was the friendly sound of voices and the clattering of dishes.

"............. stabbed him you see, like this, stabbed him." Came the voice of Sir Rupert.

"Oh, no." Groaned Clarence and looked at His Lordship expecting the same reaction, all he saw was an old man with a long face placing one foot before the other. "Good morning, everybody." He smiled weakly as he walked beside Haddington into the room. Gilmore gave the tray to another servant and followed them.

"The blighter bled......" Sir Rupert was saying as he jabbed a knife into a piece of bread, he saw Haddington and put a hand over his mouth.

"Do go on, Sir Rupert." Smiled Lady Marlebone.

But Sir Rupert shook his head and pointed to his throat. "Oh, no, you haven't lost your voice again?" Sir Rupert nodded. "Gilmore, pen, ink and some paper for Sir Rupert."

"Certainly, your Ladyship."

Haddington and Clarence sat down and the former poured himself a cup of tea. Gilmore came in with the required implements and Sir Rupert was busily writing away.

"Say, Two-Refs," Cloud leaned over to whisper to Lee sitting beside him, "old Clem don't look too good, does he?"

"He looks alright to me." Lee looked mostly at the food on his plate and across the table at Cynthia, who seemed to be completely ignoring him.

"He looks kinda.......tired."

"Oh, Sir Rupert," laughed Lady Marlebone looking at the note written by Sir Rupert who was beaming, well pleased with himself. "Do look at this, Reginald."

"I can see it, Your Ladyship." Said a bored Winterhaiming.

"He's written 'please pass the salt.'" She laughed.

"I can see that, madam, twice."

"Do let me do that for you, Sir Rupert." He was about to take off the top of his egg. Lady Marlebone did it for him.

"Rupert has only lost his voice, madam," said Haddington very testily, "he is not an invalid."

Sir Rupert looked at him with narrowed eyes and wrote a note to hand to Lady Marlebone. "He's written............"

"I do not have the slightest interest in what the fool has written."

Sir Rupert's mouth fell open in surprise.

"Oh, oh ......." Lady Marlebone didn't know what to say.

"I'll have to ask you all to excuse me," Lord Haddington got to his feet. "I'm not feeling my best this morning, please go on with your breakfast." He strode from the room.

"The great bore," Spluttered Sir Rupert, "the great, great bore."

"Sir Rupert?" Smiled Lady Marlebone.

"By Jove, I'm cured."

"Worse luck." Muttered Clarence as he went quickly from the room after Haddington who went to his office.

"Clarence." He turned to see Cloud walking after him. "Is Clem alright?"

"I don't know." He said coldly.

"What's wrong with him?"

"It must be obvious, even to you."

"What d'ya mean?"

"You and your friend have hurt him very deeply. The man you saw this morning was a man in great pain."

"We didn't lay a hand on him, I swear."

"You didn't have to lay a hand on him to do what you both did. The fact that I was forced to expose you yesterday has done untold harm to him."

"I wouldn't hurt that old man for anything in the world, nor would Two-Refs, and you know that, Clarence."

"All I know is that you're both a pair of crooks. Lord Haddington, for some benighted reason, thought highly of you both, I was compelled to shatter that feeling. If His Lordship doesn't ask you to leave today it's because he can't bear to hurt your feelings."

"Can I see him?"

"My suggestion is that you see as little as you possibly can of His Lordship until you are finally asked to leave."

"I'd still like to see Clem." He tried to brush past.

"Don't you think you've done enough to him?" Demanded Clarence as he left him standing there in the corridor.

After breakfast Cynthia and Winterhaiming were strolling arm in arm through the trees, Lee came from nowhere.

"......worked out better, my dear," Winterhaiming was saying, "we can make the final arrangements and have the announcement made at Lord Haddington's birthday celebration........."

"Cynthia." Said Lee walking up to her side to take her small hand in both of his.

"I say, sir, do you mind?"

"I was speaking to the lady. Cynthia, I ....."

"A gentleman does not interrupt another gentleman while that gentleman is speaking."

"That's alright, I'll forgive you just this once, Cynthia......"

"Your actions, sir, are deplorable." He gave Lee a shove with his hand.

"Now, look, pal......"

"I suggest, Miss Marlebone, that you go to the house."

"Gentlemen, please stop this foolishness."

"Go to the house." They both ordered together pointing with their fingers. She looked from one to the other, stamped one of her feet and turned to walk straight to the house. The men stood with their arms pointing to the house and looked each other up and down.

"I am quite capable of issuing instructions to my intended without your interference."

"You're right, pal, if I ever see you issuing instructions to your intended I'll make it a point of not interfering."

"You do seem determined, sir, to be thrashed."

"Right now I'm determined to knock your block off, once I've done that I'll go to the village to find someone to thrash me."

"There is no need for you to go into the village, sir," Winterhaiming was taking off his coat, "I shall be more than willing to oblige."

"You mean to have your block knocked off?" Lee was removing his coat.

"No, sir, I mean to thrash you, and this time my intention is to teach you a lesson that will remain with you for the rest of your life."

They took up fighter's stances and approached each other carefully.

"I shall allow you to throw the first punch, sir."

"You go ahead, pal."

They circled each other a few times, finally Winterhaiming threw a punch, Lee stepped aside to send a punch into his opponent's stomach. Winterhaiming's punch sped on to land on a tree behind Lee.

"What was that?" Came a far off voice.

Winterhaiming recovered and came at Lee again, he feigned a punch to Lee's face and sent a real punch into his chest, Lee lurched backwards and tripped over the trunk of a tree.

Winterhaiming stepped back to allow his opponent to regain his feet. Garth appeared from nowhere.

"Mind me trees you damn fools."

"Be quiet, sir." Snapped Winterhaiming, Cloud and Clarence came running up.

"Are you crazy, Two-Refs?"

"Stand back there." Said Winterhaiming.

"We'd best do what he says." Said Clarence.

"He'll kill him, he'll kill him." Clarence had to forcibly hold Cloud back.

"Don't worry, Smoke, I'll just mess him up a little." Said Lee getting to his feet and racing at his opponent.

"Mind my trees." Said Garth, getting dangerously close. Winterhaiming threw a punch which Lee easily sidestepped and sent a punch into Winterhaiming's chin. Winterhaiming spun around and his fist came into contact with Garth who fell back against a tree to stand there stunned.

Lee came at his opponent to follow up his advantage but Winterhaiming quickly recovered, he twisted his head out of the way of the flying fist that passed his ear to land with a dull thud on Garth's chin. Garth dropped to the ground in one quick movement and lay there unconscious.

Winterhaiming sent a fist to the side of Lee's head and knocked him to one side so that he stood shaking his head.

"Look out, Two-Refs." Called Cloud rushing forward and dragging Clarence with him.

Lee ducked and threw a wild punch, it missed Winterhaiming and it missed Cloud, but it did find a target. Winterhaiming and Lee clashed together and spun around gasping for breath and trying to clear their heads.

Miss Blackie lay serenely on a branch of a tree above them, taking no interest in the battle below.

With a grunt Winterhaiming hit Lee in the stomach and threw a punch that missed its mark, too tired to fight the momentum he spun with the effort and came into contact with Cloud who was knocked to the ground.

Lee threw a punch but it went wild to land on the trunk of the tree, he stood gasping for breath as he nursed his hand.

Winterhaiming stepped up to him to slam a fist to the side of his head and pulled back to give the final blow. Up above Miss Blackie calmly stood up to jump down onto another branch. It may have been the weight of her small body or it may have been something else, but the branch bent in a quick whiplash movement to thump Winterhaiming on the head.

He stood there with a poised fist, Lee saw the shape with his blurred vision and struck out instinctively. Winterhaiming fell backwards still with his fist poised.

Cynthia came rushing up to fall at Winterhaiming's side and nursed his head.

"You brute," she said to Lee, "you stupid muscle-bound brute." As Lee stormed away she was looking at the other fallen shapes in amazement.

Haddington was ecstatic. He met Lee at the door to the house with opened arms and a glass of champagne from a tray held by Gilmore.

"My God, sir," he beamed as he put his arm around Lee's shoulders as the young man drained his glass, "you not only faced the blighter, but you beat him. This is the proudest day of my life."

"Yeah." Lee put the empty glass on the tray and strolled off.

"Bravo, sir bravo." Called Haddington, he turned to see the empty glass, "Gilmore."

"Your Lordship?" Lord Haddington pointed wordlessly to the glass. "Sorry, Your Lordship."

"What a man," he beamed as he took up the refilled glass. "What an asset he'll be to this estate, hey?"

"Yes, Your Lordship."

"He'd take no nonsense from anyone, certainly not as I have done."

"No, Your Lordship."

Lee went to his room to change into some old clothes and ran out the front door and through the trees toward the village. He pounded out his pent up rage as he ran onto the road and down the incline.

He felt better already as he planned to run to the church and then back to the house. He passed quickly through the village around a corner across the square and up the steps of the church. He ran on the spot for a few moments and then rested as he wiped the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

"..........a beautiful day, vicar."

He turned to see the vicar and a tallish man with a handlebar moustache come walking out of the church.

"Mr Lee, this is a surprise."

"Good morning, vicar."

"This is Mr Chesters, Mr Chesters this is Mr Lee, one of Lord Haddington's American guests."

"How do you do, sir."

"Mr Chesters." They shook hands.

"How silly of me," laughed the vicar, "you already know Mr Chesters, don't you?"

"No, I don't."

"That's strange, Mr Chesters is from London, he is Miss Marlebone's and Mr Winterhaiming's best man."

"I've not had the pleasure of meeting Mr Lee before."

"Ah, well, no matter." Smiled the vicar, "the point is, Mr Chesters, that the description is most appropriate."

"Thank you, vicar."

"I know the good book warns of pride, Mr Lee, but today I am as proud as a peacock."

"Are you vicar?" Smiled Lee.

"Mr Chesters may I have your permission to reveal our secret to Mr Lee, I'm certain he'll not tell another soul."

"I give it gladly, vicar."

"That's kind of you, vicar, to trust me," frowned Lee wondering what the secret was, "and I'm grateful to you, Mr Chesters."

"Come along, sir, come along." The vicar grabbed him by the arm to drag him into the church.

Haddington met Winterhaiming in the corridor, he smiled broadly and threw an arm around the young man's shoulder.

"It has not been an easy day for you, sir."

"No, Your Lordship, it certainly has not." He said ruefully.

"It was a decision that had to be made, and I'm sure you'll agree it was not unjust."

"Mr Lee may have his faults but he beat me fair and square." Said Winterhaiming who remembered nothing of the last few moments of the fight.

"Spoken like a real gentleman, sir, a quality I saw in you the first moment I laid eyes on you."

"Thank you, Your Lordship."

Cloud was just coming down the stairs when he saw Lord Haddington with his arm around Winterhaiming's shoulder, he stepped back to hide behind a suit of armour as they passed below.

"Decisions such as these are always hard to face, but they have to be made and it's a wondrous thing when the burden is lifted from your shoulders."

"Yes, Your Lordship."

"It was inevitable, of course, true blood must always triumph in the end."

"Yes, Your Lordship."

"Come into my office, my boy, and we'll drink on it." Said Haddington happily.

"Splendid idea."

They walked over to the door and Cloud went to the rail to watch them with a frown. They went in and closed the door. He stood there for a second until suddenly he heard two people approaching from the side corridor, as Clarence and Lady Marlebone came walking around the corner, he stepped back quickly behind the suit of armour.

Clarence's sharp eyes caught the movement.

"That was young Reggie wasn't it, going into his Lordship's office?" Asked Lady Marlebone.

"Yes, it was."

"Hasn't his Lordship taken to him lately, I fancied at one stage he disliked the boy."

"I'm not one to carry tales, Lady Marlebone." Said Clarence stopping just below Cloud.

"Indeed you're not, Mr Clarence." She leaned forward expectantly with a slight smile.

"I'm sure this will not go any further than the two of us."

"Absolutely, Mr Clarence." She smiled sweetly, "what is it?" She asked impatiently.

Clarence made a point of looking around carefully to make sure no one was around. "Lord Haddington is about to make it official that young Winterhaiming is his grandson."

She gasped and her eyes bulged. "You don't say, Mr Clarence?" She managed to say.

"Lord Haddington swore me to secrecy on this, so if anyone were to say that I told them I should deny it."

"And rightly so, Mr Clarence, rightly so. Your secret is safe with me." She turned to move away quickly.

"Mind now," called Clarence, "not another soul must hear of this."

"Of course not," she smiled sweetly as she turned the corner sedately, then she burst into a run raising the front of her dress to free her legs. "Cynthia, my poor, poor, Cynthia." She whimpered as she ran.

Clarence wore a very pleased expression as he strolled over to the office door and knocked, he opened it to the sound of merry laughter and tinkling glasses, stepped inside and closed the door.

Cloud let out a long sigh and leant against the wall, he took out a cigarette and lit it, then with heavy limbs he slowly ascended the stairs.

He decided to walk back so that he could enjoy the sunny afternoon. He was strolling along with his hands in his pockets and wearing a broad smile. Quite some secret, he thought merrily to himself.

He was surprised to see Haddington's carriage pulled to the side of the road, and as he approached he saw Cynthia sitting in the back fanning herself slowly. When she saw him she smiled so sweetly that he felt a lump come to his throat.

He walked over to look up at her. "Good morning." He smiled.

"Will you join me, Jerome?"

"I'd like to, Cynthia, but I do need the exercise."

"Please, I want to speak to you."

The expression on her face made it impossible to refuse her, even if the thought had entered his head. He climbed in and sat beside her, she moved along the seat to sit closer to him. "I am awfully sorry, Jerome, for the things I said to you."

"It's not important, I've completely forgotten what it was anyway."

"Does that mean you forgive me?"

"Of course it does, that is, if there were anything to forgive, there are times I forget my own strength." He smiled as he put his arm around her shoulder and took her hand in his. She rested her head on his shoulder.

They were both supremely happy as Rogers moved the horses and turned the carriage to head it back to Haddington's estate. When it pulled up at the front door Lee stepped out to help her down.

"Have you given my proposal any thought?" He asked.

"Of course I have." She smiled up into his eyes and was about to say something more when suddenly Lady Marlebone came running from the front door and down the steps. The two young people stood watching in silence as she ran up to them to grab her daughter by the hand and drag her from Lee, who stood in stunned silence.

"I'll see you later, Jerome." She called over her shoulder and waved to him.

"Not if I can help it." Panted her mother as they both went into the house.

Lee was just about to run up the steps after her, when Cloud called from the trees. "Two-Refs."

He looked over to see his manager leaning against a tree smoking a cigarette. With a smile he walked over to join him.

"Did you see that, Smoke?" He asked in good humour.

"Yeah, yeah, lets' go for a walk, boy." He was very subdued but Lee was in too high spirits to notice as they trudged off into the trees.

"We have to leave tomorrow." Cloud said flatly.

Lee came upon Miss Blackie sunning herself on a log, he sat down beside her to pat her and she purred contentedly.

"Why, where are we going?" He smiled.

"Home."

"You mean the States?"

"Yeah, the States."

"Gee, that's swell, Smoke......." He was still patting Miss Blackie, but now for the first time he caught the sound of Cloud's voice and his smile slipped a little. "Has something happened?"

"I just figured it's time we went home."

"What about Lord Haddington?"

"What about him?"

"I'm supposed to be his grandson, aren't I?"

"Clem seems to have made up his mind that that Winterhaiming guy is his grandson."

"Oh." He continued to pat Miss Blackie who was enjoying it. "Oh, well." He shrugged his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're taking it so well, boy."

"I don't mind, I suppose Cynthia will understand."

"What do you mean?"

"We're getting married."

"Are you crazy?" Exploded Cloud throwing his cigarette away in disgust and startling Miss Blackie.

"Probably." Lee tried to smile to bring the conversation back to a more congenial mood.

"You can't do it, Two-Refs."

"Oh, I think I'm old enough to make such decisions by myself."

"You can't do it to her, boy."

"I'm not that bad," he smiled, "I think I can make her very happy."

"Do you know anything about her?"

"Only that I adore her and she loves me."

"Do you know why she came here in the first place? To find a husband."

"She found one."

"A rich husband."

"I think I can soon change her ideas about such things, money isn't...."

"Don't be a fool." Cloud stomped up and down in front of Lee. The younger man was a little disappointed at how his manager was reacting. "I've checked up on her, Two-Refs, her family is deep in debt, her father might end up in prison while her and her mother could end up in a poorhouse."

"I'm sure she has too many friends to allow that to happen."

"It's gonna happen, boy, unless she hooks a rich husband in the next couple of weeks, that's how bad it is."

"She could come back to the States with us, I could put in a challenge to the champ, who knows, in a couple of months I could be world champ, you always said I'd....." Lee came to a halt when he saw the face of his manager.

Cloud swallowed nervously and Lee caught the movement of his Adam's apple. "I hate to do this to you, boy," he sat down on the other side of Miss Blackie, "you ain't ever gonna be champ." Lee looked at him with an expressionless face. "You've got the fighter's worst curse. A glass jaw."

"I won most of my fights......"

"I know that, I know that."

"..... I came up against some tough fellows."

"I had hopes for you, boy, I really did, I prayed I was wrong. But I blinded myself, I kept saying you were champ in all but title."

"But, my fights."

"I made sure you came up against body punchers, not ones who went for the jaw. The only fights you lost were with jaw punchers."

"I believed you, Smoke." There was hurt in his eyes. "I really believed you." He shook his head, "under matched by my own manager." He said glumly.

"It's my fault, Two-Refs, all my fault."

"What did you think would happen to me when I came up against a real fighter?" He asked bitterly.

"That's why I knew I had to get you out of the game, boy."

"No wonder that Winterhaiming beat me, a baby could beat me. I could have been killed in the ring, Smoke, do you know that?" He demanded angrily. Miss Blackie looked up displeased with the tone of voice.

"I'm sorry, Two-Refs."

"Well, we'll just have to convince Lord Haddington."

"Convince him of what?"

"That I'm his grandson."

"He's already decided, Two-Refs."

"I feel I am his grandson, I'm sure I can convince him."

"You can't."

"I'm gonna try." He got to his feet with his chin jutting out, a great deal depended on this.

"You can't, Two-Refs."

"Once I speak to him," he was striding off, "and we get to talking......"

"Jerome."

Lee stopped and turned to look back. Cloud and Haddington shared a mutual dislike of his first name, the former never, ever used it except in extreme cases. Lee frowned.

"What is it, Smoke?"

"You're not his grandson."

"You can't be sure of that, I've got that locket and......"

"They're fakes, everything Clarence said was true, we're frauds."

Lee looked at him with cold eyes that only dimly registered shock, then he walked over to the log to sit down with a sigh. They sat in deep silence for a long time, Miss Blackie didn't like the mood so she moved off to chase a butterfly.

"How could you do this?" Lee's voice was thick.

"I did it _for_ you, boy."

"Lord Haddington was very good to us and you would have cheated him."

"He took to you, Two-Refs, you're the sort of grandson he wanted."

"What was in it for you?"

"Nothing, boy, not a cent."

"I'll bet."

"I swear, it would have made me the happiest manager in the world to see you out of the game, growing fat and lazy here in England." He went over to sit beside Lee and put his arm around his shoulder, "you were always my best fighter......"Lee shook the arm off and got to his feet to stand with his back to the older man. "I don't blame how you feel......."

"What do I do now?"

"Come back home and be my partner, you know the business backwards."

"You mean be a manager?"

"Yeah. We'd be a great team, Two-Refs, you could teach our boy all the tricks and I could see he gets every cent he deserves. Nothing'll stop us." Cloud was trying to sound more cheerful and hopeful than he felt.

"Okay, Smoke, it's a deal." He turned to shake Cloud's hand, but the voice was thick and the smile was forced.

"What about that Cynthia dame?"

"I'll fix that."

"Good boy, Two-Refs, you'll see it will all work out for the best."

"Yeah."

They both made their way back to the house. Now that it seemed to be all settled, Cloud felt better and more cheerful, as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders, the boy seemed a little flat but he was young, he'd soon get over it.

* * * * *

# Chapter 10

He was a miserable looking soul, thought the old man, as the constable opened the door and took him by the arm and moved him into the cell. He stood with bleary eyes and looked across the room at Dickie.

Dickie jumped up and ran to the cell door as the constable went walking down the corridor.

"Constable?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Did you send that message to my brother?"

"I did, sir, you just sit down he'll be here in no time."

Dickie limped back to sit on the edge of the bed with his chin in his hands.

The newcomer stood where he was, he wore a silly, drunken grin and swayed a little.

"Lovely day." Smiled the drunk.

"I wouldn't know, mate."

"You're that lunatic, ain't ya?" He lurched over to sit beside Dickie.

"You could say that, yes."

"Fought Rufus, didn't ya?"

"He fought me."

"Not me, mate, I wouldn't fight that bloke. I get drunk and go insane, I attack me missus, but not Rufus, I ain't that insane."

"Look, mate," said Dickie waving a hand in his face, "talk if you have to, but breath in the other direction, otherwise we'll both be drunk."

"I like you, mate," he put his arm with all the fond intimacy drunks reserve for strangers, around Dickie's shoulder. "You don't need to be so miserable, cheer up."

"I wonder if you'll still say that if you're between me and my brother when he gets here."

"Bring him on, go on, bring him on." The drunk held up his clenched fists as if he were boxing someone.

"You'll need more than those, mate."

"The best weapons in the world, mate."

"I'm talking about my brother, not your bleeding wife." The drunk sprang in the air, turned in mid–air and retreated backwards into a corner facing the cell door with a look of horror on his face.

"Me wife, help me Mother of God, me wife." The voice was slurred but hysterical.

The constable stood at the door.

"Did you fellows want a cup of tea, I've just made a fresh pot."

"Yes, please, constable." Said Dickie.

"Is me wife out there with you?"

"No, your wife is not out here with me. I had to lock her outside the station otherwise she would have killed you." The constable walked down the corridor.

"You tell her, constable," he ran to the cell door to call out, "you tell her, constable, I've not forgiven her for fighting back." He came back as if dusting dirt from his hands to sit beside Dickie. "She does that, you know, unless you can get her from behind. It's a good idea to stun her first, she can be a tricky devil."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll remember that."

"You know, boy, I like you." He put his arm around Dickie's shoulder again.

"I don't mind you liking me, mate, but you keep trying to burn my eyebrows off with your breath." As a reward the drunk laughed loudly right in Dickie's face. He had to get to his feet or face the prospect of passing out again.

"There's no need to be miserable, mate, it may not happen."

"My brother's on the way, when I give him the news I've got, he'll be dancing on my corpse, if you're here to see it, you might try to cheer him up."

"That's nice of you to ask me, mate," said the drunk in all seriousness, "I'll try and make you proud of me."

"Marvelous."

"If he does that to you, can I have your boots?"

"What about the gold fillings in my teeth?"

"You know, mate," the drunk was up and had his arm around Dickie, "we're strangers, but you're real generous. Can I see 'em?"

"No, you can't see them."

The constable stood at the cell door with a tray in his hands and no expression on his face. Dickie lay on the floor, the drunk sat on his chest trying to pry his mouth open.

"Gentlemen?" Asked the constable calmly.

The drunk got to his feet to run over and take a cup of steaming tea through the bars. Dickie came limping over rubbing his sore chin.

"Thank you, constable."

"I do hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"Does he have to be in the same bleedin' cell as me?" Demanded Dickie.

"It looked to me as though you two were enjoying yourselves."

"Oh, yes, indeed, we were enjoying ourselves no end, weren't we?" Asked Dickie.

"You promised me some gold fillings."

"Are you a dentist?" Asked the constable standing out in the corridor sipping his tea.

"No, I am not a dentist." Said Dickie.

"Out of his mouth, constable." Said the drunk.

"When I'm dead, can you wait that long?"

"You promise?"

"I do."

"You heard him, constable?" The constable nodded with a dazed expression, the drunk edged closer to the door to ask in a loud whisper. "Is there any sign of the brother?"

"Not yet."

"His brother's a dancer, ain't he?" Asked in a normal voice.

"Is he?"

"He's gonna dance on your corpse, ain't he?" He asked Dickie.

"Haglin, have you got a bottle in there?" Demanded the constable.

"I haven't, maybe the big bloke has."

There was a loud knocking on the door down the corridor. The constable took the two cups on the tray and went down to open it.

"Can I see 'em?" Asked the drunk.

"No, you can't see 'em." Said Dickie.

"If that's your brother they'll be mine soon anyway."

"Get your hands off me." The drunk was trying to force his mouth open.

It was George. He and the constable stood at the door with expressionless faces. Dickie lay on the floor, the drunk was sitting on his chest trying to pry his mouth open again.

"Gentlemen?" Asked the constable, the drunk got to his feet.

"Me wife, help me Mother of God, me wife!" He screamed as he retreated to a corner.

"Dear me." Sighed Dickie as he got to his feet and limped over to sit on the bed.

"Now, no violence." Ordered the constable of George as he walked down the corridor.

"Of course not, constable." George thrust a demonic face at the bars, "Dickie, if you've got me here to waste my time......"

"Me wife, help me...."

"Shut up!" Said George, the drunk did so smiled and came walking over to stand near George.

"I've got good news, George."

"You're the brother, ain't ya?" Asked the smiling drunk.

"Yes, I am. What news, Richard?"

"Tell me, sir, is it a weakness you have dancin' on corpses?" Asked the drunk.

"Only on the corpses of brothers and drunks."

"The coins......"

"Are ya gonna dance on him?"

"After I dance on you, you silly little man, if you don't go away."

"George, the coins....."

"You won't hurt his mouth, will ya?"

"No, I won't hurt his mouth."

"George......"

"And his boots, he promised me his boots."

"Did you want his feet in them too?"

"That's morbid, that is, morbid."

"George......"

"Look, mate," George reached through the bars to take the drunk by the throat.

"Me wife," he shouted in George's face, "God in Heaven....."

"Shut up." He pushed the drunk across the room.

"You did give me a turn." Smiled the drunk as he bounced against the wall which apparently knocked him back to reality.

"George........"

"I'm still waiting, Richard......"

"George......"

"How long do I have to stand here before you decide to tell me what you want?"

"You don't want to know." Said Dickie impatiently.

"Richard....." Began George grimly.

"No, you don't want to hear." He folded his arms.

"You." George turned to the drunk. "You said you wanted his boots, didn't you?"

"And his gold fillings."

"Yeah, his gold fillings, you still want them?"

"I can wait until you're finished."

"If he doesn't talk you don't get them."

"What?" Asked a startled Dickie.

"You're not asking me to torture your own brother?"

"Yes, I am, get him."

"George....."

"Not cruelty, I won't have nothin' to do with cruelty." Said the drunk grandly.

"You don't have to be cruel."

"George......"

"I mean I can just twist his arm a little, I do that to the wife, she loves it, of course she's a little stunned at the time."

"That's right, get him."

"I'll talk."

"I ain't started yet." Said the drunk sadly.

"I'll talk, I'll talk." He jumped to his feet.

"Come over here, Richard." Said George with a smile.

"I'll talk, George, I'll talk. Keep him off me."

"Back. Go on, get back." Ordered George and the drunk obediently did so. "Now, Richard, what have you got to tell me?" Said George soothingly.

"The owner of the pub has got the coins, he found them and he's willing to let us have them." Dickie looked at the drunk and then glanced back at the door, it was empty. He limped over to call out to his brother who he could hear running down the corridor. "George, George, he'll sell 'em to us, George." Dickie waited in silence with his hands on the bars, the drunk walked over to stand beside him.

"He didn't hear you."

"He heard me alright." Dickie turned his head slightly to look at the drunk, when he turned back a thing with a vivid face stood before him, before he could move, a pair of huge hands were between the bars and around his throat.

"Me wife, in the name of God, me wife!" The drunk was over in the corner in seconds.

"What did you say, Richard?" Asked a grim George as he proceeded to choke the life from his brother.

"Don't hurt his mouth, mate." Called the drunk coming back to reality once again.

"I'm not hurting his mouth," said George squeezing his hands together, "it's his throat I'm hurting."

"You don't get a purple face like that without doing something to the mouth."

George eased up the pressure just enough for Dickie to breath.

"Did you say he'll sell them to us, Richard?"

"Yes." Gasped Dickie.

"They're our coins, Richard, ours."

"I know, I know."

"How much does he want, Richard?"

"Fifty.....fifty......."

"Fifty what, Richard?"

"Fifty pounds."

"Fifty pounds!" Roared George.

"Me wife, God in Heaven, me wife."

"That's robbery, Richard, the man is trying to rob us, Richard."

"I didn't ask for fifty pounds, George."

"No, that's right." George let him go, he had a strange look in his eyes as he stood at the door while Dickie limped as far away as he could. "I must go and see our friend with the coins."

"We haven't got fifty pounds, George." Croaked Dickie.

"That's alright, lad, we can fix that." George walked off.

"Hey, mate," the drunk ran over to the cell door, "aren't you goin' to dance on him?" He turned with his back to the door to lean against it with his arms folded on his chest. "Typical, ain't it? Can't trust a soul these days."

"Dear." Came a small voice behind him.

"Me wife, help me, me wife!" He sprang back and ran to join Dickie as far from the door as he could.

A small, frail woman stood at the door, she wore a friendly smile behind a pair of gold-rimmed glasses.

"Keep away from me, do you hear? Keep away from me." He huddled against Dickie for protection.

"I brought you something to eat, dear."

"Now she's trying to poison me."

Dickie grabbed him by the arm and dragged him over to the door with a smile on his face as the drunk howled with terror.

"Take your hands off my husband, young man." She said sternly.

"Missus I was only trying......." She reached in with her umbrella to hook it around Dickie's neck and pulled him to the bars, while with her other hand with the strength of a demon she pulled his nose.

"Don't hurt his mouth, don't hurt his mouth."

The constable was just reaching for his cup of tea when he heard screaming from down the corridor. "Help, police, help."

By the time the constable reached the cell the woman had one of Dickie's legs pulled through the bars trying to use it to pull the rest of his body from the cell. The drunk sat on his chest trying to force his mouth open.

George was halfway to the 'Starved Sailor' with a strange grin on his face when suddenly he stopped in his tracks. "Fifty pounds!" He bellowed in the empty street. "Where in the name of Heaven do I get fifty pounds?"

He stomped back past the police station, oblivious to Dickie's frantic screams as the constable fought to free him from two maniacs.

George went back home to tell Grace and Charlie the bad news.

"That's it then, ain't it?" Was all Charlie said.

"Thanks to our brother, who has taken just about every penny we had and left us with nothing to show for it." Said George grimly.

"We could have five hundred pounds." Said Grace as she sat at the table with folded arms.

"I just told you, woman......"

"Try to use your brains, George." She said and George scowled at her."This Clifford bloke is very keen to get those coins, isn't he?"

"He was here yesterday," said Charlie, "and this morning."

"Why not ask him for a loan of the fifty pounds and he can take that off the money he pays us for the coins?"

"He wouldn't do it." Said Charlie.

"What's to stop him just going up there and paying the fifty pounds and getting the coins?" Asked George.

"He won't," said Grace, "he's a gentleman. He thinks he's got an agreement with us. All we can do is ask him, unless you two can get fifty pounds?" They sat in glum silence. "He said he'd come back later this afternoon, we'll ask him then." She wasn't making a suggestion, she was issuing an order.

When Clifford came and George asked him for a loan of fifty pounds to be taken off the final sum, to the latter's amazement the former agreed to it after a few minutes thought. They promised him they would have the coins by that night or the next day without fail.

After their guest had left the two brothers set off grimly for the 'Starved Sailor.'

"They'll have to change that sign when we're finished." George said to his brother as they looked up at the sign.

"To what?"

"The Strangled Innkeeper."

They went into the warmth of the room. A few people stood at the bar, a few sat on benches around the walls. They crossed the room to reach the bar.

"There was a lot of noise at that police station, George, when we went past it." Said Charlie.

"It's more like a mad house than a police station."

"Good afternoon, gentlemen, what'll it be?" Smiled the innkeeper as he stepped up to serve them.

"You've got some coins of ours." Said George.

"They belong to a big fellow."

"That's our brother."

"Have you got the money?" George placed money down on the bar.

"Now, where's our coins?"

"Not so fast, brother," the innkeeper smiled as a stout man came strolling in, he stood puffing at the bar and mopped his brow with a handkerchief. "So good of you to come Mr Manse."

"A drink, if you please, sir."

"Of course, this is on me." He smiled as he poured a drink and handed it to him. The glass was drained in one gulp and held out to be refilled and that too was emptied in one gulp.

"That's better." Sighed Mr Manse.

"So good of you to come, I know how busy......"

"Where are they?" He asked curtly, the innkeeper placed a piece of cloth on the bar, wordlessly Manse opened it and spread a small pile of coins out on it.

"Hey, they're ours." Said George angrily.

"Do you mind." Said Manse curtly as he looked over at George with a sharp, cold expression and went back to the coins. He examined each in turn, then without a word tied them up in the cloth to hand it back to the Innkeeper. "My glass is empty."

The innkeeper rushed to refill it.

"Well, Mr Manse, what do you think, how much do you reckon they're worth?"

"Twenty pounds." He drained his glass. "Twenty pounds the lot."

"Twenty pounds!" Snorted Charlie and George stepped on his foot.

"You're some kind of expert on coins, are you, Mr Manse." Asked George with a smile.

"I consider myself to be such." He replied coldly.

"You're a pretty smart fellow, too?" Manse looked at him coldly but the expression in his eyes said that of course he was. "Innkeeper, I'd like to buy our coin expert a drink." Manse accepted the drink with silence and drained it swiftly.

"Well, innkeeper, do you, or do you not intend to take my offer?"

"Twenty pounds, Mr Manse?"

"Twenty pounds, sir."

"The sum is not very large......."

"I'll not haggle, sir, twenty pound is my final offer, take it or leave it."

"I have a better offer, sir."

"Suit yourself," he turned to go, "thank you for the drink, sir, good day to you." He said to George and strolled from the pub.

"Innkeeper, my brother and I would like a drink, if you please." George smiled as two drinks were poured out. "May we have our coins now?" The cloth was placed on the bar, George drained his glass, wiped his lips and carefully counted the money.

"That's only twenty one pounds." Said the innkeeper with narrowed eyes.

"That sir, is our final offer."

"Bah!" The innkeeper took back the cloth.

"But, George......"

"Finish your drink, Charlie, we don't want to waste our host's valuable time." George took up his money.

"Our bargain was for fifty pounds."

"There was no bargain, sir, we had no bargain. I was told you were willing to return our coins, and we were quite prepared to reward you for their return."

"But what about the damage that ox of a brother of yours did to my place."

"That's something you'd best take up with the ox. Finished Charlie?" They both turned to go.

"Wait. Twenty five pounds?"

"Twenty one, sir, not a penny more."

"What's so valuable about these damn things, anyway?"

"They have great sentimental value to our family, they belonged to our aged parent and his aged parent before him."

"But, George........."

"Shut up, Charlie." He said calmly, "well, sir?"

"But what about the damage?"

"Our only concern is for the safety of those coins so thoughtlessly lost by our brother. Let me warn you, sir, we have only just so much patience."

The innkeeper hesitated then pushed the cloth across the bar with impatience. "Here, take the ruddy things."

"Thank you, sir." George counted out the money to hand to the innkeeper and then he and Charlie left.

They went straight to the police station.

"........I like you, you're a good man." Came the voice of the drunk.

"Get your hands off me."

"I didn't mean it, I was only joking."

"Speaking of hands, I hope you wash them before you go shoving them in my mouth. Do you own a horse?"

"As a matter of fact, I do, he looks a lot like you. A big, lazy bloke. Why?"

"Next time use a shovel, not your hands."

"Richard." George and Charlie stood smiling at the bars of the door.

"Me wife, in the name of God, me wife."

"Where? Where?" Screeched a terrified Dickie.

They were both on their feet and huddled in the corner as far from the door as possible.

"Will you stop doing that." Said Dickie impatiently.

"Richard." George held out the cloth and jingled it.

"You got me coins?" Dickie smiled and came over to take the cloth and open it.

"It's a miracle." Said Charlie getting carried away.

"You've made me a very happy man, Richard." Said George.

"Wait a minute." Dickie frowned over the coins in his hand.

"What is it, Richard?" Asked George.

"There's two missing," he looked up and returned to count them again, "there's two missing."

"What did you say, Richard?" George wore a frozen smile.

"Look," he came over to the bars to hold the cloth under George's nose and counted them, "two of 'em are missing."

Back down the corridor the policeman was just finishing a piece of paper work, he sat back in his chair to stretch his arms.

"Help, police, help!"

He jumped to his feet and ran down to the cell. Charlie had one of Dickie's arms, George had the other, he lay on his back as they were trying to drag him through the bars, the drunk sat on his chest trying to force his mouth open. The constable had to force the two brothers away and made them stand against the wall opposite the door. Then he reached in to use his stick to hit the drunk over the head, the drunk jumped up and ran to a corner with his usual screech about 'me wife.'

"Are you alright, sir?" He knelt down to look at the panting Dickie.

"Where has that man had his hands?" He gasped as he wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. The constable helped him through the bars to get to his feet. "I'm alright, constable, thank you. I must confess I will miss the grand times I've had here if I'm ever released."

"You can see sir," the constable shook his head sadly, "when you begin a life of crime there is a terrible price to pay with regards to friends and relatives."

"We must get together, constable, and talk about the price of leading a life of murder." Dickie was looking at his two brothers as he spoke.

"Now, look you two," the constable warned them, "you're to stand here, if you go anywhere near that door I'll chuck you both out. You let me know when you want them to leave, sir." He patted Dickie on the shoulder and walked back down the corridor.

"Have you both gone mad?" He demanded as he leaned against the bars of the door.

"You stupid ox." Said George grimly.

"I've had these coins for years, nobody wanted them."

"Are you sure there's two missing, Dickie?" Asked Charlie.

"Of course, I am."

"That's why Manse offered so little." Said George. "The set's not complete."

"Offer, what offer?"

"Twenty pounds, Dickie."

"For this lot?" Dickie pointed to the coins on the floor.

"That's right, Richard, for that lot." George was looking at him with narrowed eyes. "But we had a better offer, and we could have got the money tonight, but thanks to you we're not going to get it now."

"How much was it?" He asked George and then turned to Charlie, "how much was it, Charlie?"

"Tell him, Charlie."

The constable was sitting at his desk thinking of making a cup of tea, he thought he felt a thud on the ground through his feet, he got up and walked over to the head of the corridor. The two brothers stood against the wall calmly looking at the floor of the cell in front of them.

Everything seemed in order so he shrugged his shoulders and returned to his desk.

It was a miserable looking Dickie who sat on the edge of his bed, Haglin was leaning with his back against the door watching his friend calmly.

"You haven't forgotten your promise, Dickie?"

"What promise is that, mate?"

"You were going to give me the gold fillings in your teeth."

"Can I put your mind at rest on this? Can I really say the last word on it?"

"If you want to."

"I haven't got any bleedin' gold fillings." He said coldly.

"In other words, you're goin' back on your promise, I knew you would."

"Are you deaf?"

"It's like the constable said, you start to lead a criminal life you act like a criminal."

Dickie sat in deep silence as he looked at Haglin with hooded eyes.

"I thought we were friends." Said Haglin.

"I promise you that when I die you can have every gold filling in my head."

"I knew it." Smiled Haglin as he sprang across the room to sit beside Dickie and put his arm around his shoulder. "I said to myself, Dickie is the honest type, a true friend. can I see them." He was about to reach for Dickie's mouth.

"Don't start that again."

"No, no, I won't, sorry."

"It's a pity I haven't got some gold fillings." Dickie mumbled to himself, "after the hangin' judge gets his hands on me tomorrow I'm goin' to really need money."

"Hangin' judge? You mean Hangin' Judge Thomas?"

"That's him."

"Have you got to face him tomorrow as well?"

"Well might you ask, mate.

"What did you do?"

"Just tore down a place called the 'Starved Sailor.'"

"That means you face the same magistrate as me, but it ain't Thomas, he's in the next county. We'll be facing Gentle John."

"Gentle John?"

"He never fines anyone. I've been before him three times, I just tell him about my poor wife and our six little babies, he gets a tear in his eyes, calls me a bad fellow who should be ashamed of meself and warns me not to come before him again. The kindest, gentlest man you could ever hope to face in a courtroom."

"Gentle John, you said?"

"A lovely man."

"Not Hangin' Judge Thomas?"

"That's right."

"He won't fine me? He'll release me?"

"Yeah."

The constable was just pouring himself a cup of tea, he took a bite on a biscuit and was raising the cup to his lips when he heard the familiar call: "Help, police, help!"

He sighed and put the cup down to go stomping up the corridor. Haglin stood at the door with bulging eyes, Dickie was up the far end of the cell doing a little dance and singing to himself.

"What is it now, Haglin?"

"You've got to put me in another cell."

"Why?"

"It's 'im." Haglin nodded to Dickie over his shoulder.

"It's quite a change to see him happy for once."

"He kissed me."

"He what?" Asked the constable in disbelief.

"He kissed me, here," he tapped one cheek and then the other, "and here."

"He kissed you?"

"Twice."

"Come out of there," he was unlocking the cell door, "the poor chap has obviously gone insane." He took Haglin out and closed the door and followed him to the next cell where he opened the door to let Haglin in and closed and locked it. He shook his head as he walked back down the corridor, "kissed him." He shook his head again.

"Constable, constable!"

He stopped in his tracks and retraced his steps. "Yes, Haglin?"

"It's too lonely in this cell, I miss me friend, take me back."

"Will it be safe?"

"I can look after meself."

"I was thinking of him." Said the constable nodding at the sound of Dickie singing as he unlocked the door. He took Haglin out and led him back to Dickie's cell.

Dickie was still dancing and singing to himself as Haglin sat on the bed as far away as he could.

"That's wonderful news." Laughed Dickie as he sat down on the further end of the bed to catch his breath.

Haglin watched him with narrow, suspicious eyes, he reached down to take one of his boots off without taking his eyes from Dickie. Then he sat with the boot held in his hand.

"Now, you keep away from me."

"I might actually face a magistrate without costing my family any money." Said Dickie with a pleased smile and completely oblivious to the fact that Haglin had left and returned.

"You will call me if there's any more trouble?" Smiled the constable standing at the door.

"You don't need to worry about that, constable," said Haglin grimly with his eyes on Dickie, "you'll hear me if there is."

Lee just couldn't face Cynthia, so for most of the afternoon he'd made himself scarce. She had gone looking for him but had not been able to find him. She was too deliriously happy to begin with, for any disappointment or concern. After a fruitless search she decided to sit with an unusually silent Cloud to watch the gathering darkness.

"Where has Mr Lee disappeared to, Mr Cloud?"

"I can't rightly say, miss, he needs exercise so I expect he's gone for a run to the village."

"He's been gone an awfully long time hasn't he?" Cloud just shrugged his shoulders.

"Hello, hello." Smiled Haddington as he came upon them and took a seat.

"I think I'll go inside," said Cloud getting to his feet, "it's too cold for me." He nodded to them and went strolling into the house a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Americans," smiled Haddington, "their blood is too thin for our climate, I'm afraid."

"Yes." Said Cynthia.

"Quiet an exhibition the young fellow put on this afternoon, wasn't it?"

"Exhibition, Your Lordship?"

"Two-Refs, floored the lot of 'em, even Reggie. He did it for you, you know."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." She tried to sound cross, but she wore a slight smile and her cheeks coloured a little.

'What a charming creature she is.' Thought Haddington as he watched her in profile and caught her reaction.

"I believe he's rather taken with you, for which I cannot blame him, you are a very attractive young lady."

"Thank you."

"I suppose you've made your choice by now?"

"What choice, Your Lordship?"

"Come, come, my dear, between Reggie and young Lee."

"I think that that is none of your business." Again she tried in vain to sound cross. Then she looked straight at the old man. "He is rather wonderful, isn't he?"

"Is he?" Smiled Haddington.

"So strong and yet so very gentle." She wore a tender smile as she thought of him. Haddington sat in silence just looking calmly at her.

Supper was a rather dull affair. Cloud lacked any vitality as he told one or two stories that fell flat. Cynthia had made every effort to sit next to Lee, but to her surprise, found him cold and uninterested in anything she had to say. So their part of the table was enveloped in a frozen silence.

Clarence and Winterhaiming kept up a constant stream of conversation, most of which was very boring.

The only lively one was Sir Rupert who sat scribbling note after note to pass them to Lady Marlebone.

"He's written," she said to Clarence reading a note out loud, "that he agrees with you."

"Agrees with me about what?" Asked Clarence.

Lady Marlebone waited patiently as Sir Rupert wrote out a note and handed it to her.

"Your remarks about Mr Garth." She read.

"I didn't mention Mr Garth."

Everybody waited for Sir Rupert to finish writing. "You mentioned blockhead." She read.

"I did?" Clarence stroked his chin as he thought back on what he'd said, "but that wasn't in reference to Mr Garth."

"Same thing, same thing." Read Lady Marlebone.

"On the contrary, I consider blockhead hardly a fitting description of Mr Garth, demented lunatic is more accurate."

Everybody waited once again, only Lord Haddington began to show signs of impatience, he began to fidget with a knife.

"Demented lunatic is too strong," she read, "you were right the first time when you called him a blockhead."

"Gentlemen......." Sighed Lord Haddington.

"I did not call him a blockhead, I did not even mention Garth, did I Winterhaiming?"

"If you please, gentlemen....."

"No, no you did not."

"Clarence....."

"If I had used the word blockhead, I certainly would not have been speaking of Garth."

"There is no need to be ashamed," read Lady Marlebone, "because you called Mr Garth a blockhead."

"I did not........"

"Clarence." Said Haddington firmly.

"Yes, Your Lordship?"

"Why in the name of Heaven don't you just say how pleased you are that Sir Rupert agrees with your observation?"

"Because it doesn't....."

"Do you want us to be here all night?"

Clarence looked down at Sir Rupert expectantly poised over a sheet of paper. Clarence shook his head.

"I'm very pleased, Sir Rupert, that you agree with my observation." He said with a weak effort at enthusiasm.

Sir Rupert scribbled away and handed the note to Lady Marlebone then he sat back with a pleased expression as he folded his arms on his chest.

"It says," she looked up at Clarence, "'I told you so.'" Clarence began to splutter. Lord Haddington quickly jumped to his feet to tap a glass with a knife.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as you all know, next Wednesday I shall be celebrating my birthday and because you've all been such wonderful guests I hope you'll all accept my invitation and stay to help me....."

Sir Rupert began to scribble as Haddington watched him in silence, he handed the note to Lady Marlebone. "He's written, 'I accept, I accept.'"

"Yes, I knew he would," sighed Haddington, "as I was saying, I hope you'll all...."

"I don't think we can, Your Lordship." Said Lee.

"That's true, Clem." Said Cloud.

"Pardon?" Haddington asked Lee.

"We've got to get back home."

"But I insist, gentlemen."

"We can't, Clem, we gotta be on our way."

"And Cynthia insists."

"It's of no concern to me whether Mr Lee stays or goes." Said Cynthia icily.

"Good." Said Lee.

Haddington looked from one to the other.

'Don't tell me these young fools have had a lover's quarrel already?' He thought with raised eyebrows.

"I'm sorry gentlemen, I just cannot allow either of you to leave."

"Why not?" Asked Cloud with a worried frown.

"The celebrations would be a failure without the presence of you two fellows, I was hoping Two-Refs would put on a boxing exhibition, something like his efforts today should be sufficient. I'm quite willing to pay you for your time."

"That sounds mighty good to me, how about you, Two-Refs?" Lee just shrugged his shoulders, "you can take that as an acceptance, Clem." Smiled Cloud.

"Excellent, excellent."

Sir Rupert handed a note to Lady Marlebone. "It will be a wonderful day...."

"Yes, yes." Said Haddington impatiently.

"......it will be a wonderful day." She finished reading.

He took long strides to try and out-walk her but she followed him out into the garden and across the lawn to the trees.

"Why are you treating me like this?" She demanded as she stamped one of her feet fighting anger and sorrow.

"I am treating you no differently than I have before." He said haughtily.

"What's happened? Why have you changed?" She walked over to stand beside him, but he turned his back on her, mainly because he couldn't face her.

"I think it might be better if we don't see each other anymore, if we just forget everything that's passed between us."

"You know that's impossible." She reached up to place her hand on his arm, but he stepped away from her. "You said you wanted to marry me."

"That was a mistake." He still kept his back to her.

"Jerome......"

"Why not just end the whole thing here and now, and we can be just good friends, otherwise I'll have to say things I don't want to say."

"What do you mean?"

He steeled himself and turned to face her.

"I know why you came here, you came to catch a rich husband. You thought you'd sink your hooks into me."

"How dare you." She hissed as her eyes turned very cold, she walked up to face him and gathered all the strength she could to slap him, "how dare you." She repeated as she turned her head away.

"Goodbye, Cynthia." He strode away.

She stumbled over to a bench and sat sobbing softly, suddenly Miss Blackie was beside her looking up with a worried little face, Cynthia looked down and picked the cat up to cuddle it as she continued to sob.

Lee heard the sobs as he walked away, each one was like a knife plunged into his heart, if Cloud had been standing in front of him at that moment Lee would have gladly strangled him.

Clarence was just finishing a glass of wine with the thought of retiring when Sir Rupert came strolling into the room. He sat down in a chair facing the solicitor wearing a glum expression.

"To your health, Sir Rupert." Smiled Clarence as he raised his glass to drain the last drops.

"Thank you."

The glass stopped in mid-air. "You have your voice back."

"Of course, yes, I do have my voice back, you are right, Clarence, I do have my voice back."

"I think it's time for me to retire." He drained the glass quickly.

"I am in a most wretched state, Clarence, it is impossible for me to convey to you in words my wretched, wretched state."

"It's quite late, Sir Rupert, perhaps if you think over your wretched state and convey it to me in words tomorrow."

"I am in dire need of advice, Clarence, I am in very dire need of advice."

"Why not come to my room in the morning......."

"Legal advice."

"I have a friend in the village......."

"On a most delicate matter, a matter that can only be discussed by friends."

"And it must be discussed now, I take it?" Sighed Clarence resignedly. Sir Rupert got to his feet to walk up and down.

"Clarence what if I were to tell you that because of me a man forfeited his life?"

"Do you mean suicide?"

"Because of what I've....no, I don't mean suicide. What makes you think someone would take their life because of me?"

"Talk, constant repetitive talk." Said the wine.

"Dare you suggest, sir, that I am a gossip? Is that it, a gossip, me? The very embodiment of sealed lips?"

Clarence had to be very firm to keep a restraining hand on the wine he had drunk, it forced a reply to his tongue, which he managed to hold in his throat.

"I'm sorry, Sir Rupert, I was being foolish."

"Foolish? Far worse than foolish, foolishness is harmless enough, but not inaccuracy. I can forgive you foolishness, but to be inaccurate!"

Clarence had been put in a jolly mood and as Sir Rupert stood in a dramatic pose pointing an accusing finger he began to chuckle, he reached into his pocket to take out his handkerchief and hold it to his face.

Sir Rupert's face fell as he stood watching the solicitor apparently weeping, he sprang across the room to pat him on the back.

"There, there, old man, don't take it so hard." This only made Clarence's laughing fit worse, "you're not inaccurate, there you are, I admit it, you're not inaccurate. Smile to show me you feel better."

Clarence removed his handkerchief to smile at Sir Rupert, this took no effort, but he had to hide his face once again as he shook with laughter.

"I had no idea the fellow was so sensitive." Muttered Sir Rupert to himself as he walked to stand a short distance away. "In Heaven's name, Clarence, get a grip on yourself, next thing I know you'll be swooning."

"I am sorry, Sir Rupert." With an effort he managed to control himself as he returned his handkerchief to his pocket.

"That's better. If anyone should be in tears it is I."

"Indeed, Sir Rupert."

"I carry a deep secret here," he pointed to his chest, "in my heart. A secret that gives me no rest."

"Is this by any chance the dark secret you were discussing with the vicar?"

"You know?" Sir Rupert covered his face with his hands in horror. "You know?"

"Not really, Sir....."

"I am undone." He said with a look of pain as he sat down in his chair. "Everyone knows my secret."

"Sir Rupert....."

"Now that you know, Clarence, tell me what am I to do."

"I can't say....."

"Should I give myself up, even though I may hang if I do?"

"The point is, Sir.....hang?" Clarence was in the grip of the wine again so he wore an evil smile on his lips. "You did say hang, Sir Rupert?"

"It's a terrible decision. To be parted from my loved ones and my friends forever, to go into eternal silence."

"Silence?" The wine was well and truly in command now. "It is my considered opinion, Sir Rupert, that you give yourself up."

"But what if they hang me, Clarence? I, a young man with my whole life ahead of me."

"You've committed a foul deed....."

"Yes, I have." He hung his head.

"If you pay for that deed your conscience will be eased and your soul will rest in peace."

"But my friends, Clarence, my friends will so sorely miss me."

"It's a sacrifice they will have to make."

"Could you bear to see me go? A man you've looked up to all your life?"

Clarence had a terrific battle with the wine before he spoke. "My heart will be heavy, Sir Rupert."

"There you are, do you think I could rest with the thought that I'd caused suffering to all my friends? Do you think they'll let me off with a warning, if I were to promise never to do it again?"

"Perhaps if you were to tell me all the details, Sir Rupert, we might be able to manage something." Clarence poured himself a fresh glass of wine.

"As you know I murdered this Plant."

"You murdered a plant?"

"A Plant? Is that his name?"

"Is that whose name?"

"You said A. Plant."

"Did I?"

"Yes. What does the A stand for?"

"It just stands for a. A plant."

"Strange fellow." Mused Sir Rupert.

"Who's a strange fellow?"

"This Plant.

"What plant?"

"The Plant I murdered."

"You murdered a....." Clarence stopped and looked at his untouched glass of wine, then decided he'd had enough so he returned it to the table and left it there. "You murdered this plant, you said?"

"Yes, A. Plant."

"A plant." Repeated Clarence. "How did you....."

"How did I do A. Plant in?"

"Yes."

"My cane. I prodded the chap too hard, you see, insolent fellow he was, wouldn't answer my questions."

"Probably no tongue."

"I decided after I'd.....done him in that he was probably a mute, but it was too late by then, his pitiful life was over. A sickly chap he was, thin and green."

"Thin and green?"

"That's right."

"Called plant?"

"A Plant."

"A Plant." Nodded Clarence.

"I didn't know his name was Plant until Clem told me."

"Lord Haddington told you he was called Plant, did he?"

"That's right, now you tell me his first name is A."

"A. Plant?"

"And the A stands for just A, does it?"

"Oh, I see what you mean, no, the A stands for Artichoke."

"Artichoke Plant."Said Sir Rupert sadly.

"Yes, a fine chap he was."

"Such a poor, forlorn name, Artichoke Plant."

"His mother was heartbroken."

"Mother? Clem told me he was an orphan."

"Of course he was, I was thinking of Mr Bush."

"Poor chap."

"Mr Bush?" Asked Clarence.

"No."

"You mean Artichoke?"

"Yes." Nodded Sir Rupert sadly.

"He'll be sadly missed.

"But he was sickly."

"Yes, he was, and very thin." Agreed Clarence.

"A sickly green."

"And you came along to cut his poor life short."

"I'm the most wretched of God's creatures."

"You must turn yourself over to the authorities."

"Yes, I must."

"It means prison, a long trial and then a public hanging."

"He was such a small chap perhaps the authorities won't be really interested."

"The law is the law, Sir Rupert."

"Perhaps we could blame someone else?"

"Sir Rupert!"

"We'd pay 'em."

"What did you do with the body?"

"Oh, Clem buried it in the garden."

"Clem buried it....I mean, Lord Haddington buried it in the garden?"

"Yes, he said Mr Plant would be happy there."

"Your brother has placed himself in a terrible position."

"He has?" Frowned Sir Rupert.

"This makes him an accessory."

"That means he's equally guilty, doesn't it?" Smiled Sir Rupert.

"To a degree."

"Even if he calls the authorities?" He was still smiling.

"His position would not be good."

"Thank you, Clarence," he sprang across the room to shake his hand. "Do you realise you've just cured my loss of voice problem."

"Have I?"

"You have indeed, and made me in debt to you for the rest of my life. Goodnight." He smiled as he strolled from the room humming.

"How odd, how very odd." Said Clarence as he took up his glass of wine once again.

Breakfast the next morning was more subdued than usual. Lee was avoiding Cynthia whenever he could; he took a longer run so that breakfast would be finished when he got back.

Cynthia had decided to avoid Lee so she persuaded Winterhaiming to walk in the early morning sunshine, it meant missing his breakfast but Winterhaiming sensed that she was more receptive to his proposal, that all he needed to do was press the point.

Haddington came strolling into the breakfast room in excellent spirits, he began to rub his hands in anticipation as he took a seat at the table. Cloud just nodded glumly as he sipped at his cup of tea. Clarence was paying for drinking too much wine so late the night before as he sat with a hand half over his eyes.

Haddington was buttering a piece of toast as he glanced down at Sir Rupert and Lady Marlebone.

"......that is wonderful, Sir Rupert."

"Mind you, I was only twenty at the time."

"And the admiral listened to you?"

"He had to, the wretched fool, otherwise his craft would have been destroyed on the rocks."

"Ahem!" Haddington cleared his throat noisily.

"How could an experienced admiral be so stupid as to take his ship so close to rocks?" Asked Clarence testily.

"Ahem!"

"That is exactly the first question I asked him."

"What did he say, Sir Rupert?" Asked Lady Marlebone.

"Ahem!"

"The poor chap could say nothing, he stood at the railing staring at the rocks with wide eyes filled with terror, his face as white as a sheet."

"Rupert......."

"You mean to say it took a twenty year old youth to get him out of his predicament?" Clarence was in too ill a humour to conceal his disbelief.

"Exactly, Clarence, exactly."

"Rupert......"

"And you saved the big boat and all those sailors." Asked Lady Marlebone looking upon him with deep admiration.

"I don't like to boast, do I, Clarence?" Clarence shook his head and then realising his mistake took it in both his hands to moan softly. "Boasting is not one of my weaknesses, I most certainly do not believe in boasting, a gentleman, a real gentleman would never......"

"Rupert!" Haddington thumped the table forcing Clarence to clutch his head tighter and to moan a little louder.

"Yes, Clemmie?"

"You don't look well." Warned Haddington grimly.

"Nonsense, old boy, I feel excellent."

"You've got black circles under your eyes."

"No, I haven't."

"No, he hasn't, Your Lordship. Said Lady Marlebone.

"Clarence." Boomed Haddington.

"You've got dark circles under your eyes." Said Clarence with the boom still echoing in his head.

"Your face is pale, sickly." Said Haddington.

"No, it's not."

"It isn't Your Lordship."

"Clarence."

"You appear, Sir Rupert," said Clarence peering from between the fingers of one of his hands, "to be at death's door."

"No, I'm not."

"You're mistaken, Mr Clarence." Said Lady Marlebone.

"Lord Haddington!" Roared Clarence then held his palm to his head to ease the throbbing in his temples and because he had shouted at his friend. "I'm sorry, Your Lordship."

"That's quite alright, Clarence, I understand, and I completely agree." He turned to look at his brother. "Poor Rupert, it does seem to me he is on the verge of losing his voice again."

"Not anymore." Smiled Sir Rupert, "I'm cured, no more losing my voice, no more sore throats, no more notes or cramped writing fingers."

"It was a miracle, Your Lordship," smiled Lady Marlebone, "Sir Rupert came in this morning and wrote me a note, he told me to put my hands to his throat. I did so and his voice was restored."

"I saw it in a dream." Said a pleased Sir Rupert.

"It was in a dream, was it?" Asked Haddington grimly.

"Yes."

"You didn't happen to see me putting my hands on your throat, did you?"

"No, Clemmie," Sir Rupert frowned as he thought that over. "Do you have the gift of curing with your hands?"

"I believe these hands could rid the world of one pest at least, if they were given the opportunity."

"I don't understand that, Clemmie."

"Haven't you forgotten something, Rupert?"

"No, I don't think so."

"I believed we discussed the recurring loss of voice you suffer from, do you remember? It seemed to strike you at my entrance into a room. Possibly something in my clothes?"

"Whatever it was, Clemmie, it's all cured now."

"Rupert, aren't you overlooking something?" Warned Haddington.

"You mean A. Plant?"

"A plant?"

"Yes, Artichoke Plant."

"Rupert, what are you talking about?"

"Artichoke Plant, Artichoke Plant, you know?" Sir Rupert turned to Lady Marlebone. "I was reading a marvellous murder mystery the other night, it was the story of a gentleman who was forced to murder a sickly, little blighter that threatened to kill him. The gentleman turned to his own flesh and blood for help and do you know what this poor chap's brother did?"

"No."

"He blackmailed him, blackmailed his own brother for money."

"That's dreadful."

"The brother hid the body so the poor chap couldn't give himself up to the police to pay for his crime. But the devious brother paid for it in the end, because he buried the body, the brother became an accessory."

"How did it end, Sir Rupert?"

"The gentleman gave himself up to the police got a reward for doing his duty and was set free."

"And his brother?"

"They hanged the blighter, hanged him as an accessory and a blackmailer, the swine."

"I do so like a happy ending." Smiled Lady Marlebone.

"Ah, Rupert." Smiled Haddington, "you do seem to pick up these legal terms so easily, accessory and such, almost as if you had been listening to a lawyer or solicitor." Haddington was looking directly at Rupert but Clarence knew he was being watched from the corner of the old man's eye. "That reminds me, I need to exchange a few words with my solicitor, may I see you for a moment, Clarence?"

"I should like to finish my cup of tea, I do have a terrible headache."

"No need, old chap, you see I had a dream you'd say that and that I would put my hands to your throat and your headache would be gone."

"How extraordinary." Said Lady Marlebone.

"Why not do it here, Clemmie, and let us watch."

"No, I couldn't do that," he got to his feet and came around the table to take Clarence by the arm to help him to his feet. "It is something that must be done in private, but I fear in this case there will be a great deal of screaming, an ordeal I should like to spare our good lady guest."

"As you wish," said Sir Rupert casually as he turned back to Lady Marlebone. "I told you about my cavalry charge, didn't I?"

Haddington led a reluctant Clarence from the room out into the corridor.

"A cavalry charge? How thrilling."

"I was only a young chap, of course, just a young fellow, green behind the ears, or is it wet behind the ears? Oh, well, whatever it is, that's what I was. Just a young chap, very young."

"Hear that?" Demanded Haddington. "I was free of that for a while, but thanks to you it's back again." He shook Clarence angrily.

"Please, Your Lordship," he held his head in misery, "I'm suffering enough."

Dickie and Haglin sat on a bench outside the courtroom, a policeman stood to one side with his hands behind his back. A door burst open and a tall, glum-faced man came out followed by a policeman.

"Sammy," smiled Haglin, "Sammy, me lad, how is Gentle John today?"

"Usual kindly self." He said as he was led past by the policeman.

"Did you get a fine, boy?"

"Naw, a warning."

"I told you." Haglin nudged Dickie who got to his feet to be held by the arm by the policeman.

"Gentle John was alright," said Sammy over his shoulder, "it was that friend of his, I was gonna do him, bleedin' echo."

"Echo?" Said Dickie as the door was held open for him.

".....mind you, I was very young, very young indeed at the time."

"Oh, no." Dickie hesitated.

"Come along, sir." Said the policeman firmly as he literally dragged him into the court and up to the dock.

"That's incredible, Sir Rupert."

"Those are the exact words the Prime Minister used."

Dickie stood in the dock and held his hand to his face and twisted his body as he tried to cringe behind the railing.

"Mr Richard....." Began the magistrate, a pale, sickly man with a wispy moustache and soulful eyes behind a pair of spectacles.

"I averted a major political crisis, a very critical political disaster threatened the very soul of the nation......."

"Yes, Sir Rupert."

"And the Prime Minister said to me, 'Rupert, my boy,' I was like a son to him........"

"I bet you never even had a father." Muttered Dickie.

"That fellow said something." Said Sir Rupert angrily.

"What fellow, Sir Rupert?"

"That hunchback in the dock."

"No, sir, no, I did not speak." Said Dickie with his hand to his face.

"Put your hand down so the court may see your face." Ordered the magistrate.

"I have been told my face is not fit to look upon by neither man nor beast, your Honour."

"Nonsense, man, this court will look upon your face."

Slowly Dickie lowered his hand and looked directly at Sir Rupert. "There you are," smiled the magistrate kindly, "there is nothing wrong with your face."

"Personally, I think he should keep his hand up, the last time I saw a face like that our gardener was chopping it down." Said Sir Rupert in a roaring whisper to the magistrate.

"Charming." Muttered Dickie.

"The fellow did it again." Snapped Sir Rupert.

"Sir Rupert it is most generous of you to be here today," said the magistate, "but this court is a little different to other courts, if the prisoner in the dock wishes to mutter, then we can see no reason why he shouldn't."

"A funny way to run things, I must say."

"Now, Mr Richard Dobkins."

"Why is the fellow standing like that?" Demanded Sir Rupert. "I thought he was a hunchback."

"Mr Dobkins?"

"Yes, your Honour?"

"Why are you standing like that?"

"Like what, your Honour?" He stood bent over with his chin almost touching the railing and his body twisted to one side. "Oh, you mean like this? It's my shoes, your Honour."

"Shoes?" Asked the magistrate.

"Shoes?" Frowned Sir Rupert as if trying to remember something.

"I mean my socks, Your Honour, they're too tight, they've made my life a misery."

"Are they new?"

"Well, yes and no."

"Yes, and no?"

"Yes and no?" Frowned Sir Rupert.

"Surely that's a simple question, Mr Dobkins?"

"They're not new."

"How long have you had them?"

"How long?" Repeated Dickie as Sir Rupert looked at him carefully, Dickie became a little rattled as he replied absently, "six years."

"Six years?" Asked the magistrate in surprise, "why do you continue to wear them if they're so bad, sir?"

"They were a gift from my mother."

"I see." The magistrate shuffled his papers obviously touched by such family loyalty.

"She knitted them for me with thin, bony fingers. The socks are too small for me because it took that poor woman so long that I outgrew her measurements, but nothing on this earth will make me refuse to wear them, I would not add more sorrow to that old heart."

"Quiet right, sir." Said the magistrate as he used his handkerchief to blow his nose noisily.

"You are home here, Dickie boy." Muttered Dickie to himself as he brought his hands up to cover his mouth.

"This court is always pleased to see a son express his appreciation and affection for his mother and her labours on his behalf." Smiled the magistrate.

"The old hag." Muttered Dickie with his hands to his face once again, "she couldn't knit if her life depended on it."

"I can see no reason......." Began the magistrate.

"That face!" Said Sir Rupert suddenly.

"Come, come, Sir Rupert, no matter how grotesque a prisoner's face may be," said the magistrate, a remark that hardly pleased Dickie, "it is not our task to remark upon it nor judge it."

"I know that face."

"No, you're mistaken, sir." Dickie tried to cover his face and hide behind the railing.

"What did you say his name was? Dobkins? Of course, the Buddhist!" He said in triumph.

"Buddhist?"

"Only in my spare time, Your Honour."

"This fellow was before Thomas." Said Sir Rupert.

"Is this true, sir?"

"Of course it's true," said Sir Rupert, "the fellow wasted hours carrying on about confounded Buddhism."

"Is this so?" Asked the magistrate in surprise.

"The subject was mentioned, Your Honour."

"You were before my colleague because you were a Buddhist?"

Dickie thought he caught something in the wind.

"He made a point of asking me many questions about my religion, Your Honour." Dickie lowered his head on his chest.

"I had no idea my learned colleague was so intolerant of other religions."

"Wasted hours he did." Said Sir Rupert absently as if unaware of the conversation going on.

"Mr Dobkins, this court dismisses all charges against you and releases you forthwith without cost from its custody. I should like to apologise for the unfortunate treatment you've received at the hands of a misguided religious bigot."

"My religion teaches me to forgive and forget, Your Honour."

"Noble sentiments, sir."

"Thank you, Your Honour." Dickie gave his Buddhist blessing and then left the dock.

"Good day to you, sir."

"I remember once how a high court judge called on me for assistance," began Sir Rupert.

Dickie raced down the corridor with a wide grin on his face.

"I told you." Called Haglin standing to wave cheerfully to his departing friend.

"Come along, you're next."

"Help me, constable," Haglin took his arm as he began to shuffle into the courtroom. "Help a poor shattered man brought low by a hard life and many struggles."

"Ah, Mr Haglin," smiled the magistrate, "you're looking so much better than the last time I saw you, has your broken leg mended alright?"

When he saw his two brothers sitting glumly on a cart outside the court Dickie's smile faded from his lips.

"Take me back to that pub," Dickie said to George, "maybe I can find those two coins."

"Get in." Ordered George and with a light tap to the horse with a whip, the cart moved off.

"Where did you get the cart, Charlie?"

"We bought it," said George, "we borrowed it out of the money we thought we were getting." George looked over his shoulder at Dickie who sat leaning against the side of the cart, he gave his brother a sickly grin, but George ignored it.

They reached the 'Starved Sailor' and while George and Charlie sat calmly waiting in the cart, Dickie went striding inside. The street was enveloped in serene silence, far off a dog barked and a cart clattered across the street in the distance.

From the peaceful inn there was a sudden eruption of noise as if a riot had just broken out inside. The two brothers sat calmly looking before them and taking no notice of the din.

Dickie was bodily thrown from the door to land with a grunt in the road in front of the cart. He stood up to brush the dust from his clothes, his brothers had bought him a fresh suit to face the court that morning, now his suit was in tatters, they were just rags hanging from his shoulders.

He shook his fist, on a sleeveless arm, at the doorway.

"Let that be a lesson to you." He said and then straightened his shoulders to stride to the side of the cart. "He hasn't got 'em." He said to George.

"Get in." Said George. Dickie climbed in and stood hanging onto the side as it moved off.

"You should have seen me, Charlie, I used all the diplomacy I could, I said 'where's me two coins, you sticky-fingered two-faced cur!'" Smiled Dickie but the two brothers sat silently swaying on the cart, their faces expressionless. "It's only a joke, there's no need to get so hysterical." And he chuckled heartily to himself.

"Grace is waiting for you at home," said George and this stopped Dickie chuckling, "we had to hide all the pots from her."

"And all the knives." Said Charlie helpfully.

"Couldn't we go back to the pub," suggested Dickie as he looked back at the inn wistfully, "and give them a second chance at me, one lad promised to tear me limb from limb."

They made the rest of the journey in silence, passing silently through their own village, finally the cart pulled up at the cottage.

"Get out." Said George as Charlie took care of the horse, Dickie got out and nervously walked into the house. "He's here."

"I'm here." He stood in the centre of the room, a dark shape came from the shadows, Dickie gulped noisily, "morning, missus."

"Sit down." Dickie sat down on the floor, "at the table." He got to his feet and walked past her warily, her eyes followed his every move. He sat at a place at the table. "Here." A plate of food was placed in front of him.

While he ate Grace stood at the other side of the table watching him, George and Charlie each took a seat at the table to watch him in silence.

"This food is delicious, missus."

"Good."

"You're all being very kind to me," he finished the plate of food. "What's next?"

"Death." Grace raised her hands.

"Grace." Said George grabbing her about the waist.

"George." Said Dickie nervously.

"Charlie." Said George struggling with Grace.

"George?" Asked Charlie.

"Tea." He pointed to Dickie's empty cup.

"Thanks." Said Dickie as Charlie poured him a cup of tea.

"George." Demanded Grace as she continued to struggle with her husband.

"Grace."

"We're all very talkative this morning." Smiled Dickie as he drank his tea.

Grace made a mighty effort and lunged across the table to take the cup from Dickie's hand and with a scream threw it against the wall. "Charlie, you might take a look at that cup, if there's a finger in the handle you know where it came from."

"Let me at him, George."

"You can't have him until after our visitor's come and gone, Grace."

"I've got the coins." Dickie held up the cloth containing the coins.

"You mean you found those two missing coins?" Asked Grace with a smile.

"No, I didn't find them....." She went wild.

"Hold me back, George." She wailed.

"She's gone mad." Said a worried Dickie.

"My wife was the gentlest of women until you brought those bleedin' coins into her life."

"Did you say you found the missing coins, Dickie?" Smiled Charlie.

"No, he did not find the missing coins." Said George struggling with Grace.

"But we've still got these coins, George," smiled Dickie holding the cloth up to jingle the coins. "Hello?"

"What is it?" Asked George with a frown.

"There's a hole in this cloth," he placed it on the table to open it and spread the coins. "What do you know about that?" Three figures stood motionless watching him with cold eyes. "It looks like I've lost a couple more of the blasted things."

Clifford's carriage pulled up outside the cottage.

"I shan't be long, Reeves." He placed a handkerchief to his nose as he stepped out to walk up to the door.

"Very well, sir."

He could hear the sound of many voices raised inside the cottage, from the noise it sounded very much as if someone were being violently murdered. Clifford knocked, and knocked again this time louder. There was no response.

He knocked harder and the door slowly fell open, Clifford stood in the doorway with his hat in his hand, there was no expression on his face as he looked upon the scene inside.

George had one of Dickie's legs while Charlie had the other, they had turned Dickie upside down and were none too gently pounding his head on the floor. Grace was on her knees in front of Dickie apparently trying to tear his shirt off. Only Dickie knew she was trying to tear the flesh from his body.

"You stupid, overblown......" George was saying each time Dickie's head hit the floor.

"I'll tear out this leg and then tear out the other one." Charlie was saying with each thump.

"If he's got them on him I'll find them." Grace was mumbling as she tore off another strip of the shirt.

"Hold her back, George, ouch, hold her back." Pleaded Dickie.

"Good afternoon." Said Clifford.

"A visitor, ouch, a visitor."

"Let's finish with Dickie and then tear the vis..... " Began Charlie.

"Look who's here, Grace," smiled George as he righted Dickie and stood with his arm around his shoulder, Grace stood with strips of Dickie's shirt in her hands. "See, Grace, Mr Clifford."

"Mr Clifford," she said dully and turned to see the visitor at the door. "George."

"Grace?" Asked George.

"Visitor." Said Grace.

"Tea." Said George.

"Sit." She said to Mr Clifford and he crossed the room to sit down at the table. "Tea?"

"Thank you."

"I hope you'll pardon us, Mr Clifford," smiled George still clutching Dickie. "We're so glad to have our brother back with us, we were just having a family game."

"Family game." Repeated a dazed Dickie.

"So you are Mr Richard Dobkins?" Asked Clifford, a smiling Dickie nodded.

"George." Said Dickie.

"Richard?"

"Leg."

George looked over his shoulder to see Charlie on the floor gnawing at Dickie's leg.

"That's enough, Charlie," he laughed, "the game's over." He gave his brother a playful kick.

"Over." Repeated Dickie.

"The coins, George, where are they?" Hissed Charlie.

Dickie put his hand in his pocket and pulled it out to open it in George's face. In it he held two coins.

"There they are." Smiled George trying to make it all sound so cheerful, "Richard is just too clever for us, he kept the coins hidden in his pocket."

"These are the missing coins, are they?" Asked Clifford.

"Oh, no......" Began Dickie but George wrapped his hands around his throat. Dickie's eyes bulged from his head, his tongue stuck out of his wide open mouth, his face began to change colour.

"That's not fair, George," said Charlie, "it was my turn to go for his throat."

"Dickie has got to be rewarded, and besides he prefers my hands, don't you, Dickie?" A purple face nodded.

"Your family seems to enjoy the most extraordinary of games, Mr Dobkins."

"We like it, don't we, Dickie?" Said George as he withdrew his hands from Dickie's neck.

"Yes." Gasped Dickie as he rubbed his throat.

"Tea." Said Grace placing a cup of tea in front of the visitor.

"Thank you." Said Clifford.

"Now." Said George.

"Now?"Asked Clifford.

"Business." Said George.

"Business." Nodded Clifford.

"Money." Said Charlie rubbing his hands in anticipation.

"Charlie." Said George sternly.

"George?"

"Crude."

"Sorry."

"Gentlemen, can we settle this now?" Asked Clifford.

"Of course." George pulled the opened cloth across the table and put it in front of the visitor.

"Hmmmm." Clifford looked at each coin and took the two George got off Dickie. "Yes."

"You'll have to tell him." Gasped Dickie still rubbing his throat.

"Tell me what?" Clifford looked up suspiciously, "our agreement was for five hundred pounds, not a penny more."

"He's still dazed from the game, Mr Clifford, he doesn't know what he's talking about."

"I hope you're not trying to break our deal, Mr Dobkins?"

"Not at all, Mr Clifford."

"Tell him, George."

"What is he talking about?"

"Just ignore him....."

"Two of the coins are missing." Said Dickie suddenly. A deadly silence settled on the cottage, Dickie realised he had made a serious error and he stood trying to think how he could convince Clifford to adopt him so they could leave together as the visitor poured over the coins again.

"Did you say there were two missing?"

"Yes." Replied Dickie as he glanced at George who stook looking at him with bared teeth.

"This set seems complete to me."

"It does?" Asked George.

"Yes, let me see," Clifford took money out of his coat pocket, "five hundred pounds, less fifty pounds." He counted out the money.

"That's right." Said George.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Clifford took up the cloth with the coins and put them in his pocket, "it's been interesting doing business with you." He shook George's hand and went to the front door. "Good day to you."

"Good day." Said George as he stood at the door in a daze.

"George." Said Dickie.

"Dickie?" George stood with his back to the room as he watched Clifford's carriage drive away.

"Leg."

"What?" He turned quickly.

"Leg." Repeated a patient Dickie. George glanced down to see Charlie gnawing on Dickie's leg.

"Charlie, there's no need for that, we've got the money.

"Oh, that's right." He got to his feet wearing a sheepish grin, "I've just realised how hungry I am."

"After the meal you've just had?" Demanded Dickie.

"Four hundred and fifty pounds." Said Grace in awe as she stood over the money, in silence the two brothers walked over to stand beside her, then Dickie limped over to join them.

"I'll just borrow this." Dickie took up a pound note and then got another shirt to put on. "I'll borrow the cart as well." He said as he limped to the door.

"Where are you going?" Asked George.

"I'll be back."

"Be sure you get back for supper." Called Grace.

"Don't worry about me, missus."

Dickie put the horse in front of the cart, climbed aboard and soon had it moving up the road, he passed through the village and then headed down the road that took him through the forest onto the next village.

He stopped to give a young farm worker a lift and then continued on into the small hamlet. The cart clattered up the main street. He offered to buy the lad a drink if he'd wait, to which he got an immediate agreement. They sat on the corner for some time until Dickie sighted a familiar figure.

"Rufus." He called as he climbed down from the cart to run to the side of the giant.

"Me old mate, ain't it?"

"That's right, Dickie Dobkins, and this is Willy, how about comin' for a drink?"

"Good idea."

All three walked to the 'Starved Sailor' and went inside. Dickie leaned on the counter and surveyed the room, there were not very many customers.

"Innkeeper," he ordered, "I'll buy a round of drinks for everyone, your good self included."

"I said you was a gent." Smiled Rufus slapping him on the back with a wallop. "The first time I laid eyes on you."

"Let's see your money." The innkeeper looked at him suspiciously, Dickie placed his pound on the counter. "You really are a gent."

"I wanted to buy Rufus a drink to show I had no hard feelings against him."

"You're a gent." Rufus slapped him on the back again as he took up a glass to drain it in one long swallow.

"I never could understand the way your kin carried on about those coins of yours." Said the innkeeper sipping his drink after pouring a glass for everyone in the bar.

"They have a great sentimental value, they were my father's."

"From Singapore weren't they?"

"That's right."

"Was he out there?"

"Indeed he was." Beamed Dickie with pride. "He was with the civil service, he'd still be there to this day but for the horrible weakness that wrecked his life and ruined his career."

"What happened?"

"I can't tell you that, it's a sworn secret in my family."

"You can tell us." Said the innkeeper and everyone agreed earnestly.

"I took a secret oath." Dickie stood erect, "how could I face myself if I dared say it out loud? Wait a minute," he looked at Willy who was draining his third glass. "I could whisper it to Willy here and he could tell you after I've gone, that way I won't be breaking my oath."

The whole room agreed readily and waited breathlessly as he whispered into Willy's ear.

"Why that's......" Began Willy.

"Shh." Dickie put his fingers to his lips. Willy copied him with a silly drunken grin on his face. "I'll be on me way then."

"Goodbye, goodbye." Said the innkeeper impatiently.

"Perhaps I might just stay for another drink."

"He's had enough, Rufus." Said the innkeeper and Rufus stood to face Dickie.

"I was just leavin'." He went through the door, everyone watched him leave then turned to Willy who was draining another glass.

"Well?" Asked the innkeeper.

"Could I 'ave another, please?"

"Not until you tell us what he said."

"It was foolish nonsense, just foolish nonsense."

"You tell us and we'll decide if it's foolish or not."

"You wouldn't be interested, it was silly."

"Rufus." Ordered the innkeeper and Rufus went to tower over Willy, who looked up in awe at the giant who's head seemed to be touching the roof.

"Well, he said.....he said......"

"Yes, what did he say?" Asked the innkeeper.

Dickie stood outside the door to one side munching on a piece of cake he'd brought with him.

"He said his father hated dogs." Came Willy's voice.

"Oh, no." Came the voice of the innkeeper.

"HE SAID WHAT?" Roared Rufus.

"It's daft, isn't it, his career ruined because he hated bleedin' dogs, little ones, he said....."

"Don't say another word." Ordered the Innkeeper but it was too late. "Rufus, put that down, put it down." There was a loud thump and the sound of shattering glass, "not on me, you fool."

As he calmly ate his cake Dickie listened to the sound of Rufus tearing the inn to pieces and flooring everyone in sight.

Willy came running out and stood in rags before Dickie.

"He's gone mad."

"Has he?"

"Don't go in there, mate." There was the roar of an enraged beast from the inn and Willy took off in terror to run down the street. Chairs and drinkers came flying through the front windows, the sign above jangled on its chains as even the front wall seemed to bulge outwards.

The sound of the inn being demolished and the occupants being equally demolished filled Dickie's ears for some time until finally all was silent.

Dickie brushed the crumbs off the front of his coat and began to walk back to his cart. The innkeeper came crawling from the doorway, he got to his feet unsteadily and stood swaying as he leaned against the wall.

"You dirty, low...." He growled.

Dickie stopped and turned to look back at the pile of rags.

"Good afternoon to you, sir." He bowed from the waist.

"You lowly....."

"Why innkeeper," said a startled Dickie, "don't do that, don't kick that little dog."

"What....." The innkeeper looked about him to see what Dickie was talking about. There was a roar from the interior of the inn and the sound of crashing furniture against the walls.

"One sign coming down." Smiled Dickie as he looked up, the sign above jangled on its chains and then plummeted below. Dickie closed his eyes until he heard the thud and a grunt. He opened his eyes with a smile that froze on his face. "Bleedin' hell." He turned to run back to his cart.

The innkeeper was still standing there, but the sign lay on the ground underneath of which lay the unconscious constable.

A dog was about to go against the wheel of his cart.

"Get out of it, you little....." Dickie glanced up to see Rufus standing beside the innkeeper watching him. "You might hurt yourself against that hard old wheel." The dog heard him, looked at the wheel, agreed with him so walked over to cock his leg and relieve himself against Dickie's leg.

Dickie smiled, bent down to pat the dog on the head and then, shaking his foot, climbed onto his cart and clattered away.

* * * * *

# Chapter 11.

"Your secret is safe with me, Your Lordship." Lady Marlebone came to sit with Haddington in the garden where he was quietly enjoying a cigar. He got to his feet as she took a seat then sat down.

"My smoking doesn't bother you?" He held up his cigar.

"Not at all, Your Lordship," she smiled, "my dear husband always has an afternoon cigar, he knows how much it affects my lungs, but far be it from me to ruin his pleasure." Wordlessly Haddington stubbed out his cigar in an ashtray on a table at his elbow. "I didn't mean......"

"Quite alright, dear lady, I've been smoking far too much lately." He settled back in his chair to cross one leg over the other. "I must say there is not another soul with whom I would entrust my secrets with complete safety than yourself."

"Mr Clarence told me all about it."

"I see," he nodded his head, "Mr Clarence."

"You know how devoted he is to you, Your Lordship, he felt that I should know."

"Of course, if Mr Clarence felt you should know then there is no doubt that you should know."

"I knew of course."

"Did you?"

"I knew what your decision would be. It was so obvious that young Reggie was so at home when he first came here."

"He was, wasn't he?" Haddington wore a mirthless smile.

"It's my poor Cynthia, she's suffered terribly, she adores young Reggie....."

"Poor thing." Offered a sympathetic Haddington.

"But she was blinded by pity for this Lee fellow, she can be the most stubborn of girls at times."

"I imagine she must be a trial sometimes."

"She certainly can be. But that's all over now, young Reggie has asked for her hand in marriage, you know?"

"Has he?" Asked Haddington calmly.

"Being so stubborn she's determined to torture the poor chap as long as possible, but between you and me, she'll accept."

"That's wonderful, Lady Marlebone," he got to his feet, "I do hope you'll pardon me?"

"Of course."

He bowed and strode off toward the house and as he got closer he got more and more angrier, finally he reached the door and shoved it open with all the strength he could. There was the sound of a thud and a yelp of pain. He glanced behind the door to see Clarence sitting on the floor unconscious.

"Serves you right." Muttered Haddington as he strode off down the corridor.

".....a tongue, sir, a tongue......"

"Oh, no." He spun on his heels and virtually ran back out of the house. He stood mopping his brow with a handkerchief when he saw Cynthia strolling through the trees.

He went quickly to join her, she was slowly walking up and down in front of the marble bench on which lay Miss Blackie who was watching with a bored look on her face. Cynthia was obviously unhappy, she was absently poking the tip of her parasol in the dirt with each step.

"Good afternoon, my dear." Smiled Haddington as he got in step beside her to link his arm with hers.

"Good afternoon, Your Lordship," she said dully with her head averted so he wouldn't see her eyes were red and puffy from crying.

"Beautiful weather, isn't it?"

"Yes." Miss Blackie jumped down to walk over and rub herself against Haddington's leg.

"Arr," smiled the old man, "two of the prettiest ladies on my estate."

Miss Blackie looked up with wide eyes. 'We know that, you silly man, we don't need to be told!' Her expression seemed to say.

Cynthia dabbed her handkerchief to her eyes.

"Have you named the date yet?"

She looked at him sharply. "What date, Your Lordship?"

"Come, come, my dear, I'm not that old, I know when I see two people in love."

"Oh, you mean Reggie and I?"

"Of course I don't mean Reggie and you, I was referring to you and Two-Refs."

"Mr Lee means nothing to me."

"You mean a great deal to him."

"Did he tell you that?"

"Of course, the fellow couldn't stop talking about you, he threatened to become a crashing bore, and you're to blame for that."

"When was he talking about me?" She looked at the old man carefully. He was very touched by the sadness he could see in her eyes.

"Only last night." He smiled with an innocent smile covering up the fact that he was lying through his teeth brilliantly.

"He doesn't want me."

"I think you're mistaken."

"He told me I was after his money."

"He hasn't got any money."

"He thinks...... he expects to come into some money soon."

"That's perfect, you both love each other, your family needs money, Two-Refs will have money."

"I do not love him."

"It's amazing the wild stories that can sweep a small village, don't you think?"

"I don't know what you mean, Your Lordship."

Haddington reached down to pick up Miss Blackie to nurse her in his arms. "You take the financial difficulties of your family, for example, the village has been very gentlemanly about that and they've kept it to themselves. But that doesn't mean some smart young chap wouldn't pick it up." Cynthia looked at him with a slight frown then stepped forward to pat Miss Blackie. "I've also heard some ridiculous nonsense about that Reggie being my grandson, naturally I didn't take it seriously, but if you were a foreigner and you heard such rubbish you might be foolish enough to believe it."

Cynthia was looking at him closely and he saw the life come slowly flooding back into her eyes.

"Naturally, if you were a foreigner and you cared a great deal for a young lady who just happened to be in search of a wealthy husband, you just might try to persuade her what choice she......."

Cynthia suddenly threw herself onto Haddington's shoulder, he patted her shoulder with one arm while he continued to nurse Miss Blackie with the other. Cynthia reached up to kiss him lightly on the cheek.

"Thank you, Your Lordship." Then she ran away quickly dropping her parasol in her haste.

Haddington stood smiling after her. "Ah, youth, Miss Blackie, it's a wonderful thing isn't it?" Miss Blackie just looked up into his face.

'You silly old man!' Her eyes seemed to say.

"You cold, heartless woman." Smiled Haddington as he stroked the top of her head, she lay back comfortably, closed her eyes and purred happily.

Lady Marlebone stood up and crossed the lawn to see her daughter coming toward her, her face looked radiant, her long dress trailing in the grass.

"Cynthia......"

"Have you seen Mr Lee, mother?" She asked breathlessly as she came up to stand before her mother.

"I think he and Mr Cloud went into the village." Cynthia ran off, "Cynthia, where are you going?"

"I have to tell Mr Lee I'm getting married."

"Reggie will be so pleased."

"I hope so." She called over her shoulder.

"You hope so?"

"Mother," Cynthia stopped and looked back, "I'm marrying Mr Lee."

"That's wonderful, dear.....Mr Lee!" Cynthia turned and went on her way." Oh, my heart." Lady Marlebone clutched her chest. "You wretched girl." She sighed and then with one move fell backwards in a deep faint.

She saw the carriage just coming back from the village and she ran toward it. "Stop! Stop!" She panted. Rogers stopped the horses and watched her impassively. Lee stepped out of the carriage and stood in the road to watch her with a frown.

"What is it, Cynthia?" He asked, but she said nothing, she threw herself in his arms and threw her arms around his neck, she stood panting with her head on his chest. "Now let's not be silly about this." He said as he tried to remove her arms from his neck.

"Two-Refs......." Began Cloud as he stood in the carriage looking down.

"Don't say anything, Smokey, just go away." Lee closed his eyes as he smelt Cynthia's hair.

"Two-Refs....."

"I'll fix the matter."

Cloud went back to his seat glumly.

"You're a damn lucky fellow, old chap."

Lee opened his eyes to look up at Winterhaiming who was smiling down from the carriage to show he had no hard feelings.

"Thanks." Said Lee with a weak smile.

"Move on, Rogers." Ordered Winterhaiming.

"Yes, sir." Rogers flicked the horses with his reins and the carriage moved off.

Lee stood in the middle of the road with Cynthia in his arms as he watched the carriage drive away.

"What is it you English say about compromising your reputation? Do you realise you've just done that in front of Reggie?"

"I don't care." She tightened her grip around his neck, Lee wrapped his arms about her and held her close as they stood there in silence.

Garth was livid, he stomped over to the foot of a tree and knelt down to inspect some roots.

"The good Lord in his Heaven," he hissed, "will you look at this. Be quiet, Rodney, of course it hurts, your flesh is hanging in strips, I'll catch that vicious monster this time." He jumped to his feet and stared up at the branches of another tree.

"They're nearly touching the ground, do you realise that, Hector, I suppose the monster has rested its huge body on them. Don't contradict me, lad!"

Marlowe had been through the woods once but late that afternoon he came back to look for his butterfly net. It was the second one he'd lost, he had a fair idea what had happened to it but so far he'd seen no sign of the gardener.

He was just passing a tree when he heard the weak cry of a cat, he saw a pile of branches, he walked over to have a closer look just in time to see a branch come dropping from a tree to land on top of the pile. The weak cry was repeated. He looked more closely and saw a box hidden under the branches. He cleared the pile away and lifted the box.

Miss Blackie was sitting there calmly, she meowed and began to clean one of her paws.

"Good afternoon." Smiled Marlowe as he sat down on the grass beside her." Now how on earth could such a clever lady as you fall for such a primitive trick like this?" He pointed to the box and the string that had been tied around a piece of meat and around a peg holding up the box, ready to trap its prey.

He reached over to pick her up and she began to purr as she nestled into his arm. "I've got to get you out of here, if I'm not mistaken our Mr Garth is looking for you." He laughed as she looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes and opened her tiny mouth in a silent, calm meow.

"Drop that vicious little creature immediately!" Garth came from between two trees, he stood there with his arms folded on his chest.

"Good afternoon, Mr Garth," smiled Marlowe, "you're mistaken about this harmless little lady."

"Harmless! Poor Rodney is limping, do you realise that? This creature has scratched off most of his flesh with those evil claws of hers."

"It must be another creature, sir, this lady has been with me all afternoon." He looked down at Miss Blackie, who lay in his arms watching Garth with a bored expression on her face.

"Hand her over to me, sir." He stepped forward.

"I would suggest you don't take another step."

"Are you threatening me? Do you hear that, lads?" He laughed, a branch came plummeting from above, adroitly he stepped aside to catch it in mid-flight. "Thank you, Charles, this will do nicely." He came toward Marlowe with it raised above his head.

"Run, go on, run." Said Marlowe as he forced Miss Blackie to jump from his arms, he turned to put himself between the cat and Garth.

"I think I can arrange a little afternoon sleep for you, Marlowe." Smiled Garth with an evil smile. Suddenly a branch dropped from above to land on his head. "Ouch." He dropped his branch and rubbed his sore spot, then he looked up and stood shaking his fist up at the tree, a branch came roaring down to just miss him by inches, "you be very careful, Henry."

No sooner had he said this when suddenly a shower of branches came plopping all around him, he stood with a look of shock on his face, then ran through the rain of branches to stand behind Marlowe.

"Help me, help me, Mr Marlowe." The shower became heavier.

"They're your lads, Mr Garth." Marlowe managed to step aside as a heavy branch landed at his feet.

"They've gone mad, Mr Marlowe, they've gone mad. Run, run." And Garth proceeded to do so. Marlowe stood watching Garth running off through heavy showers of branches that followed him until he was lost through the trees.

Marlow saw Miss Blackie settling herself on a branch to lay with her throat flat on the branch, he walked over to her and she purred as he stroked her fur.

Garth ran as far and as fast as he could with the shower of branches following his every twist and turn, until finally he fell to the ground heavily, to lay panting for breath and was immediately covered by a dense layer of branches.

It was some time later when he regained consciousness, he attempted to crawl out from the thick pile of branches, a branch thudded to the ground inches from his hand, he hesitated and then tried to crawl out once again to have a branch just miss his head.

He reached into his pocket and took out his handkerchief and waved it through the branches.

"Lads, lads," he called as he slowly got to his feet and stood in the waist high pile of branches. "What have I done?" He asked, he turned to look at a tree to his right sharply. "What do you mean, Bertie, you've been elected spokesman? He began to chuckle, "these big, strong lads wouldn't pick the puny, timid likes of......" A branch plummeted from above to punch its way through the pile of branches and land heavily on his foot. "You were saying, Bertie?" He said with a grimace.

He listened with an intent frown on his face that began to look incredulous as his mouth slowly hung open.

"You're saying that you like that beast clawing away at your feet?" He asked in disbelief, "I bet Rodney won't agree with you." Garth's eyes widened, "he considers it a special treat? Lads, lads." He shook his head, "obviously this creature has you all living in fear. You have no need to be afraid, I'll take care of her, I'll........" He held his hands to his ears.

"One at a time, lads, you're all making too much noise." He turned back to Bertie. "I won't hurt her, I'll just put her in a cage......" A branch fell from the sky to plunge through the branches to land on his other foot. He looked at Bertie and then up at the tree from whence the branch had come.

"You listen to Bertie, Algernon, of course I was only joking." He tried to move his foot. "Alright," he said to Bertie, "alright, I agree with your terms, no cages, freedom of the forest." He listened and nodded, "if you want her to tear your feet to pieces I won't stop her. Feed? Now that's going too far....."A very heavy branch landed with a crash in front of him. "Is two meals a day enough, Bertie? Good, two meals it is." He struggled through the branches and stood clear of them to brush off his clothes.

"Now, lads, there's no need to applaud me." He smiled, "if that's the way you want things I'll not stand in your way." A branch came from nowhere to hit him on the head and knock him to the ground.

He lay there rubbing his head and looking up suspiciously at an old tree.

"I know old William is deaf, Bertie," he slowly got to his feet to continue watching the tree, "tell him, go on, Bertie, tell him I've agreed to the terms."

The day had turned out so well for them that they all readily agreed to Grace's suggestion that they should go on a picnic.

A very pleased Dickie stood up and stretched his arms, he reached down to pick up a last piece of cake and as he munched on it he walked over to one of the trees. He smiled at a small black and white cat sleeping on one of the low hanging branches.

Miss Blackie opened one eye sleepily and purred softly as Dickie patted her. Suddenly a shape came running past, it was Lee on an afternoon run. He was running too fast to notice but he bent the branch back with him and let it go.

The small creature was flung into the air to land with startled surprise, in Dickie's arms.

Garth appeared on the other side of the branch and stood looking at Dickie with narrow, suspicious eyes.

"May I ask just what you think you're doing with that lovely little creature?"

"I......I......."

"Let her go you fiend, you overgrown fool."

"Charming."

"Don't try to pay me compliments! Turn that poor animal loose." Garth raised his arm with a heavy branch. Dickie followed it with his eyes.

"Look," he put Miss Blackie hurriedly on the ground, "see, I've released her."

"Just as well for you." Garth appeared to be deep in thought, then made up his mind. "Just the same I think you need to be taught a lesson, I can't stand cruelty but you would have thoughtlessly broken my lads hearts so it might be best if they see me thrash you a little."

Dickie reached into his pocket and brought out a handful of coins.

"Why don't I just give you some money and you can buy them some sweets, I'm sure they'd prefer that to seeing some poor innocent chap thrashed."

"Not my lads." Garth looked down at Miss Blackie who was rubbing herself against Dickie's leg. "I thought you said you'd released her."

"Go away, kitty," Dickie was about to give her a gentle kick to brush her away but he saw Garth raise the branch higher and instead knelt down to try and shoo her away.

"I see, now you're going to be cruel to her, are you?"

"I haven't touched her." Dickie got to his feet.

"Now I know I'll have to thrash you, I can't have my lads hearing you lie."

"Let me speak to your lads."

"Go on."

"Go on where?"

"Speak."

"I'll speak to one of your lads."

"Well, go on."

"There's no-one here but you and me."

"You're deliberately trying to be stupid."

"There's nothing deliberate about it."

"You can speak to Hector."

"Hector?"

"Yes."

"Hector who?"

"He's behind you." Dickie spun quickly and looked all about him at the emptiness. "Go on, speak to him."

"He's here, is he?"

"Right in front of you."

"Oh, yes, now I see him," Dickie looked down at the ground in front of him, then he went down on one knee to pat the air, "what a handsome little chap, he looks just like you. What's that, Hector? You'd prefer the coins?" Dickie got to his feet and walked over to lean on the branch on the other side of which stood Garth. "See, the lad wants the money and he thinks I should be allowed to leave in peace and unthrashed."

"He's comical, ain't he, lads?" Cackled Garth raising his head, Dickie followed his gaze and thought he was talking to someone in the branches above. "I've come across some lunatics in this forest, friend......"

"I've no doubt about that." Said Dickie flatly.

"Who were you talking to out there?"

"You said he was called Hector."

"You're mad, do you know that?" Garth looked up at the branches again, "isn't he lads, mad as a hatter."

"If I am, I seem to be in the right place."

"Or are you?" Garth narrowed his eyes to look at him suspiciously, "maybe you're just pretending to be a maniac so I won't bash your head in."

"Oh, no, no, nothing like that." Smiled Dickie, "I'm mad alright, yes, yes, quite mad, look," he walked over to a tree and put his arms around the thin trunk. "See, I talk to trees, the trees are my friends." He spoke to the tree, "isn't it a lovely day, tree?"

"Take your hands off him!"

"Him?"

"That's Peter, and he hates humans, except me, of course."

"Yes, that's right, this is Peter, a lovely day isn't it Peter?"

"Peter hates the hot weather."

"That's right, that's what he told me."

"You wouldn't be mocking me and the lads, would you, friend?"

"No, no." Dickie shook his head. "Nothing like that."

"Peter told you he hates the hot weather?"

"That's right."

"This lad said that did he?"

"He did, he did."

"Well, clever fellow, you just fell into my trap, that's not Peter, that's Hubert, and he loves the hot weather."

"Hubert, how could you lie to me like that?"

"I can see that I'll have to thrash you."

"Maybe Peter's a ventriloquist?"

Garth wasn't listening as he came slowly toward Dickie with the branch raised.

"Help," thump, "help."

George was lying on a blanket under the shade of a tree, he lifted his hat off his face and got up on one elbow. Charlie lay on the other end of the blanket, he opened his eyes to see George listening to the forest intently.

"What wrong?" Charlie asked.

"I thought I heard something."

Charlie sat up to listen. "I can't hear anything."

Suddenly Dickie came running from the forest, he fell to the ground and began to pack everything he could.

"What are you doing?" Asked George.

"A maniac is loose, he's back there in the trees, he talks to 'em."

"That's only Garth, he's harmless enough." Said George.

"Harmless enough? He was going to bash me head in."

"You don't look any different, Dickie." Smiled Charlie.

"That's very comical, very comical," he looked at George, "can we leave Charlie here for the maniac when we leave?"

"Where is this maniac?" Asked Charlie.

"Back there in the trees."

"Is he after you?"

"Not right now, but he soon will be."

"What do you mean?"

"The last time I saw him he was unconscious."

"Unconscious? What did you do to him?"

"I didn't do a thing, one of his bleedin' trees fell on him."

"One of his trees?"

"I think he called it Hubert," Dickie was still packing, "when that maniac gets his hands on me I'll be lucky to get away alive, but I know one thing."

"What's that?" Asked George.

"When he comes to, I don't think we'll ever see Hubert again."

"Are you crazy, Two-Refs? You can't do it to the little girl, I've told you everything, you can't do a thing about it."

Lee sat on a log smoking a cigarette he looked across at Cloud's face and spoke calmly.

"I don't care."

Cloud could not think of a reply, he sat glumly with his chin on his chest looking down at his feet. He admitted to himself over and over again that never before had he made a bigger mistake than when he'd thought up this scheme.

"Two-Refs......."

"You wanted me to become a partner with you, we can find a good, young fighter and I can teach him all I know and you can be his manager." Cloud lifted his head to look across at Lee, the voice was dull and flat, as he smoked his cigarette the eyes were vacant as his mind seemed to be a thousand miles away. "That was your plan wasn't it?"

"Yes, that was my plan, Two-Refs."

"Jerome! Jerome!" Came the voice of Cynthia.

"It can work, can't it, Smoke?" He was alive again, he jumped up with a smile on his face, Cloud nodded silently. Lee strode off quickly to join the young woman, Cloud lit a cigarette and sat smoking it gloomily.

Lee took Cynthia in his arms and kissed her lightly on each cheek, then took her arm as they walked through the forest. She was happily chattering away, so sure that everything would now be alright. Behind his cheery smile Lee was all too aware of reality.

He had three days, that's all. On Wednesday the old Lord would publicly declare Winterhaiming to be his grandson, he accepted that because it was only fair; what if the old man had made Lee his grandson and a few years later Lee found out what Cloud had told him? He wouldn't have been able to bear the thought he had tricked the old man and hurt him as well.

Cynthia chatted on and he turned his head slightly to look down at her. Of course he couldn't marry her, he thought to himself, on Thursday he would have to go back home, apparently to be an assistant to Cloud for the rest of his life. Of course he might well be a manager himself and get his own champion, but that would take years, too late to help Cynthia and her family.

The best thing to do is to pretend for the next three days all would be well, then on Thursday morning just to sneak away, as he continued to listen to her voice he realised how difficult that was going to be.

They became inseparable. At dinner they sat side by side while Haddington beamed at them from across the table. The only time his smile slipped was the time Sir Rupert began to talk about the time he was twenty-two years of age, the room listened in silence.

After dinner they all headed for the sitting room where Lady Marlebone quickly got a bridge game together. Her partner was Winterhaiming while their opponents were Lee and Cynthia, this way she hoped to keep them within her sight all the time.

Somehow she had to convince Cynthia of the terrible mistake she was making, but her mind could think of nothing, she had to wear a mask of merriment she most certainly did not feel.

Sir Rupert sat to one side of the room facing Haddington and Clarence, Cloud sat opposite Sir Rupert telling them stories that had them roaring with laughter. He appeared to be his usual self except when he stole quick glances across the room at Lee and Cynthia.

"Oh, dear me," Haddington was wiping tears of laughter from his eyes with his handkerchief, "Rupert knows some good stories like that, don't you, Rupert?"

"I do, Clemmie, I do." He said still chuckling.

"Tell us some of them, that time you saved the Queen from losing the Empire, that's my favourite."

"I hope you'll pardon me........" Clarence attempted to get to his feet, but Haddington put his arm around his shoulders and pinned him to the lounge.

"Nonsense, Clarence, you don't want to miss this."

"This is when Rupert was eighteen, is it?" Asked Cloud.

"That's right, that's right." Said Sir Rupert with a very pleased look on his face.

"Oh, well, I've heard it before so I'll just be......." Began Cloud.

"No, no, old boy, you'll like this," said Rupert, "it's very amusing.

"I believe I've heard it before too, I do have a lot of work......" Began Clarence.

"You heard what Sir Rupert said, Clarence," said Haddington with a strange smile on his face as he took a firmer grip on Clarence's shoulder. "This story is very amusing."

"You really want me to tell it, Clemmie?"

"Yes, Rupert, I do."

"It's just that I thought you didn't like me talking about my life?"

"I'm so overwhelmed that your constant loss of voice has been cured, Rupert, so overwhelmed with joy, I do wish there was some lucky person that was responsible for your cure, I should so love to reward them." Haddington was looking at Clarence.

"Yes, it was rather a blessing." Smiled the forgetful Sir Rupert with his hands clasped on his ample stomach.

"What would be the form of the reward, if I may ask, Your Lordship?" Asked a worried Clarence.

"Oh, I should think hearing Sir Rupert's life story from his own lips would be a fair reward."

"His whole life?"

"His whole life."

"A little excessive don't you think?"

"No, I would term it a just reward."

"It was the young Queen, our present Queen, she's not a young Queen now, of course, but our present old Queen was the young Queen then, that is before she became the old Queen."

"You mean Queen Victoria?" Asked Cloud.

"For Heaven's sake, Cloud." Snapped Haddington impatiently, "don't interrupt."

"Sorry."

"On second thought, Clarence," Haddington said, "that reward might be a little excessive."

"Queen Victoria, that's right," smiled Sir Rupert, "our old Queen, but she was the young Queen then, before she became the old Queen, our old Queen today, that is. You're perfectly correct, Cloud, Queen Victoria."

Cloud looked across at Haddington and Clarence who were watching him with blank faces.

"Sorry, fellahs."

"Pardon?" Asked Sir Rupert.

"I was apologising, Rupert."

"Were you, what for?"

"For interrupting."

"Interrupting, interrupting what?"

"You were talking about Queen Victoria."

"Yes, that's right, you're perfectly right. Our old Queen, you know, our old Queen today, but our young Queen then," Cloud looked at Haddington and Clarence, who were looking at Sir Rupert, then they turned their heads in unison to look at Cloud with hooded eyes and blank faces, Cloud shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "She was only a young lady, you see, so she was called the young Queen, she's an old lady now, so they call her the old Queen."

"What Queen is that, Sir Rupert?" Called Lady Marlebone with a smile, when she looked up her smile slipped a little as she saw three faces looking closely at her from across the room as if she'd just said something foul.

"Our old Queen, she was our young Queen then, of course, and we called her our young Queen before she became our old Queen as she is now, so now we call her our old queen.

"Queen Victoria." Said Winterhaiming.

"Yes, that's right, Queen Victoria......" Began Sir Rupert.

"Oh, my God." Sighed Haddington.

Tuesday passed quietly into night, the only thing of note to occur was that Clarence elicited the information from Gilmore that Lord Haddington had not suffered any of his periods of indisposition for some days now. Clarence was very pleased with the news.

After breakfast Miss Marlebone invited everybody to pay a visit to the village where she had an important task to perform, Clarence was the only one who could not accept the invitation, he had a great deal to do supervising details for the birthday celebrations that night.

They all set off in two carriages, Cynthia, Lee, Lord Haddington and Lady Marlebone in the first carriage. Winterhaiming, Cloud and Sir Rupert in the second.

"Upon my soul," said Haddington with a smile, "there's a sight I thought I'd never see." They all turned to follow his gaze. Just off the road stood Garth, he was talking to one of his trees while he carried a contented Miss Blackie in his arms.

As they drove past, he turned to wave at them wearing an unusually broad grin.

"Fickle," smiled Lord Haddington, "all you female creatures are terribly fickle."

"Oh, Your Lordship." Laughed Lady Marlebone.

"One of the reasons you are all so charmingly attractive." He was very pleased with himself as he glanced over at Lee and Cynthia, it was obvious they were trying to sit as close to each other as they possibly could. He wore a slight smile as he nodded in reply to Lady Marlebone's chatter, his mind wandering back to fond memories.

They clattered through the village and halted in front of the church. The vicar stood at the top of the steps beaming down at them as they climbed out and ascended the steps.

"Your Lordship."

"Good morning, vicar."

"So glad you could come."

"You can thank this young woman for that, vicar." He patted Cynthia's arm as she led the way into the church. Sir Rupert took Lady Marlebone's arm, Cloud, Lee and Winterhaiming took up the rear.

"Is everything in readiness, vicar?" Asked Cynthia.

"As per your instructions, Miss Marlebone." Said the vicar as he led the way down the aisle of the silent church, long fingers of sunlight pierced the gloom from the stained glass windows.

"I never fail to find your beautiful church very restful, vicar." Said Haddington.

"It is a haven of serenity, Your Lordship." Said the vicar pleased with the compliment.

"Except during the sermon." Said Cloud softly.

"Quite so."Nodded Haddington.

"I beg your pardon, Your Lordship?"

"I was agreeing with your description, vicar."

"This is it." The vicar stopped and stood looking at one of the stained glass windows beyond the pews on the opposite wall.

"Is it?" Smiled Haddington as he and Cynthia walked up to join him.

"Do you recognise it, Your Lordship?" Asked the vicar.

Haddington looked with more care at the window, a knight with a standard in one hand, a sword in the other, one foot resting on the head of a slain dragon.

"Upon my soul," murmured Haddington his eyes still on the window, "Saint George, a window of Saint George." He smiled.

"May I direct Your Lordship's attention to the tablet at the foot of the window." Suggested the vicar quietly.

"Indeed?" He walked through the pews to look up at the tablet; he stood quietly reading and then looked up at the window for a long time. Finally Cynthia went to join him.

"If I'm not mistaken, my dear, this is your doing." He turned to look at her with a slight smile on his lips, there were tears in his eyes as he quickly turned back to look up at the window. "He was her favourite saint, the one for whom she had the greatest admiration, the one she prayed to all the time." Cynthia walked over to stand beside him, he took her arm in a firm grip, "In her own silly way she was very patriotic, you couldn't get a more English saint, could you?"

Cynthia was looking at the tablet: Dedicated to the cherished memory of Lady Mary Haddington.

Winterhaiming came quietly to stand on the other side of Haddington.

"It was Cynthia's idea," said Winterhaiming and Haddington just nodded, "she thought it would be a present that would please you."

"It has, it's an excellent present."

"Reggie was the one who suggested we get Mr Chesters down from London.

"Mr Chesters is the artist who did the window." Said Winterhaiming.

"That's right, Your Lordship."

They turned to see Chesters standing to one side with his hat in his hand.

"I can see the work of an expert craftsman, sir."

"Kind of you so say so, Your Lordship."

"I feel we are in the presence of a great masterpiece."

Chesters smiled in agreement and went back to join the vicar.

"He really was the best man, wasn't he?" Smiled Haddington and Cynthia looked up at him suddenly, "it was very wilful of you both to have kept it so secret, the poor village gossips had no idea of what exactly was going on, they made some wild guesses."

"That was Cynthia's idea, sir, she wanted to make it a complete surprise."

"Well, she's done just that."

"I hope not an unpleasant surprise, Your Lordship?" She asked.

"My dear it is impossible for you ever to surprise me unpleasantly." He took her arm as they slowly began to walk back through the pews. "Just the same, that secrecy was..... a little extreme. Many people got the wrong idea."

"I was determined that not one word of our scheme would reach your ears." Said Cynthia.

"There is no doubt that you succeeded in doing so. I have nothing but the highest admiration for your cleverness, but quite a few people believed they knew what you two were up to. I heard talk of wedding plans. Cynthia, can you imagine the state of any of your suitors should they have heard the rumours floating around?" Haddington was looking at Lee as they approached the rest of the group. "If one of them had been a little slow in telling you their feelings this would surely have forced them to do something."

"I hope Your Lordship will believe me," said Cynthia emphatically, "when I say this plan was meant......."

"I understand, my dear, I appreciate the sincerity of your thoughts and the kind generosity of you both, it was a wonderful gesture and I am deeply touched by it." He squeezed her arm as they walked back down the aisle and out into the sunshine.

Most of the villagers had gathered in the square at the foot of the steps, they stood in silence, Haddington shook the vicar's hand and then Chesters and then he began to descend the steps.

"Three cheers for Lord Clumsy." Someone called out.

"Hip, hip, hooray!" Haddington smiled and then raised his hat to wave it happily. "Hip, hip, hooray!" He reached the carriages and was the last to climb inside. "Hip, hip, hooray!" He stood up as the carriage moved away and the crowd began to sing "For he's a jolly good fellow."

He sat down to face Lee and Cynthia.

"Now do you see why I love this area?" He asked still smiling, his face all aglow.

The gathering to celebrate Haddington's birthday began early. In the ballroom tables were spread all around three sides, leaving the entrance and the centre clear as an entrance and for dancing. A servant stood at the doorway shouting the names of the guests as he was handed the invitations.

"Sir Daniel and Lady Williams."

"Mr and Mrs Cartwright."

All the local gentry were steadily arriving, a pile of invitations were placed in the servant's hands.

"Reverend and Mrs Stillwell and......and......and party."

A great crowd came surging merrily in to be shown by another servant their places at the tables.

The servant glanced over his shoulder and stepped out into the centre of the room. "Ladies and gentlemen," he called and the room fell silent, "His Lordship, Lord Clemence Haddington."

Haddington came striding down the couple of steps with Cynthia on his arm and followed by his party, as they strolled down the centre of the room everybody got to their feet and applauded loudly, they kept it up until the old Lord and his group reached their table and stood in their places to face the room, then all his party too joined in the applause.

He let them clap then raised his arms for silence, the clapping slowly died away and everybody sat down except for Haddington.

"I feel deeply honoured that so many of my dear friends have gathered here to help me celebrate my birthday. I shall not bore you with long, dreary speeches except to say I hope you will all enjoy this evening as much as I intend to." He sat down to a wild burst of applause, then a long string of servants came in carrying trays of food, the applause grew louder.

The guests all settled down to eat heartily while a string orchestra set comfortably in one corner of the room kept them entertained. After the food came the speeches, many of them, until Lord Haddington himself got to his feet amid polite applause.

"I am sure you all agree when I say we all have memories of certain events that we keep in our hearts and we like to recall with fondness, for myself, this is such an event." There was a burst of applause and cries of "Here, here.""This is indeed a memorable night, for two reasons," he smiled down the table at Lee and Cynthia sitting to his right. "Over the past week or so, I've had a guest in my house who has fulfilled my fondest wish." The room was very silent. "When my beloved daughter left these shores many years ago never to return she had a son, my dearest wish was to find the lad and bring him back here where he belonged, I had decided many days ago to reveal him to you, my friends, on this night so that you all could share this wonderful pleasure with me."

He strolled down past Cynthia and Lee and put his hands on Winterhaiming's shoulders, there was a half-hearted burst of applause led by a very pleased Clarence who was smiling broadly. Haddington leaned forward to whisper something to Winterhaiming, then he went back to Lee and took him by the arm to lead him back to stand near the old Lord's seat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my grandson." They stood with their arms linked as the applause became so thunderous that it threatened to bring the roof down around their ears.

Cloud was on his feet clapping with vigour copying half the room, he leant down to shout to Clarence.

"Too bad, pal."

"A damn fool, a damn, old fool."

Haddington held up his hand and the room slowly subsided into silence.

"It took a lot of hard, detective work." Said Haddington, "most of the credit for which must go to Mr Clarence, he proved himself a determined and painstaking stalker, not that I needed that proof. He gathered all the evidence diligently and laid it all at my feet and left the decision up to me." Haddington smiled at Lee who stood in stunned silence. "I saw this boy display kindness, strength and great courage, just the attributes we Haddington's have in abundance." There was polite laughter to this little sally. "But I wanted more proof, conclusive proof, so I resorted to a lowly act that I hope my new found grandson will forgive me for."

"You know that you don't even have to ask." Said Lee softly, and Haddington squeezed his arm warmly.

"I took the liberty of searching Mr Lee's luggage, I know how caddish that sounds, but I believe it was well worth it. I found this." He took something from his pocket to hold up, there was a craning of necks. "There was one thing my dear daughter cherished above everything else, it was this hair ribbon given to her by her mother many years ago."

"But I've never...." Began Lee, Haddington squeezed his arm and then he looked down and realised Cynthia was holding his hand and looking up at him with a strange, pleading expression.

"That's right," laughed Cloud, "that old ribbon he used to carry it everywhere."

"I should like to examine that old ribbon." Said Clarence grimly.

"You can all see the pleasure and pride I take in making this announcement." He was drowned out by the applause, while he stood there Lee leaned down to whisper to Cynthia then they both looked down the table with questioning looks at Lady Marlebone. The older woman began to smile, then dabbed her handkerchief to her tear-laden eyes and nodded.

Cynthia whispered into Lee's ear and took the opportunity to kiss him on the cheek, with a wide smile he returned to Haddington to say something softly.

The old Lord shook him by the hand, then reached over to kiss Cynthia on the hand, he stood up and raised his hand to stop the applause.

"I have a second announcement to make, an announcement that gives me the greatest pleasure I can possibly imagine. My grandson wishes to announce his engagement to Miss Cynthia Marlebone." The cheers and applause were louder than ever and more prolonged, many of the women were holding their handkerchiefs to wet eyes.

"How grand," roared Sir Rupert, "how perfectly grand, how grand." He smiled down at a tearful Lady Marlebone as he got to his feet to join in the applause. Winterhaiming was on his feet on the side clapping as enthusiastically as the rest.

Haddington had his hand in the air but it took a long time for the noise to subside and for everybody to return to their seats.

"I have a third announcement," he went to Cynthia and took her hand, "with this beautiful woman's consent, I intend to dance the first waltz of the night with her."

Cynthia nodded tearfully, she couldn't trust herself to speak, as Haddington led her out to the centre of the floor the people erupted once again into hearty applause.

"I had begun to believe, my dear," he said to her as they waited for the crowd to fall silent and the music to begin, "that all my happiness was behind me, until tonight." She smiled as the music started and they moved off in the waltz, the floor was soon filled with more dancing couples.

Sir Rupert raced down to shake Lee's hand vigorously, but the young man couldn't take his eyes from Cynthia.

In the middle of the waltz Haddington had to surrender his place to Lee, he joined Clarence on the side of the room and stood tapping his foot to the music and watched them with a pleased smile on his face.

A servant came up to whisper something to him and Haddington nodded, while the servant strolled away he glanced over at Clarence's face.

"I know what you're thinking, my old friend. You think I've disregarded all your good advice and all your hard work."

"My one thought is that you've made a great mistake."

"Come to my office, I'd like to talk to you." Haddington put his arm around Clarence's shoulder as they walked down the side of the room, the old Lord kept looking at the dancing couples or else he smiled and waved to a friend in the crowd along the sides of the room.

"What did you say to Winterhaiming?"

"I told him I was sorry and that I'd make it up to him, in fact, he's in my office now."

"You know that he's been cheated out of his inheritance?"

"Clarence, Clarence......" Haddington was shaking his head.

"He's been denied natural justice because you've acted like a foolish, selfish, old man."

"We've been the closest of friends for many years, Clarence, but what you've just said proves that you know nothing about me, I might as well be a total stranger."

"What I've seen recently are the acts of a total stranger."

"There you are," said Haddington emphatically, "you see, you have no idea what I'm talking about. For the first time in years I feel real happiness, I feel real confidence about the future, the estate is safe and sound and in good hands."

"I would have protected the estate....."

"How could you have? How Clarence? You're just the family legal adviser. With my death this estate would have passed into the hands of a squabbling bunch of distant, unknown relatives. Now it will become......"

"The property of an American boxer."

"Exactly, but what a boxer. He showed real courage facing young Winterhaiming for a second time, remembering that he was knocked out the first time. And that young woman, she'll fight like a tiger to preserve her property. Can you imagine the children they'll have?"

"I'm trying not to."

"Admit it, old boy, you're only pretending to be displeased."

"There's no pretence on my part, Your Lordship," he looked at Haddington who was watching him carefully, "but if this is Your Lordship's decision, I'll abide by it and say no more on the matter."

"As I knew you would, old friend." They came upon one of the servants carrying a tray of drinks, "where is Miss Blackie?"

"In the garden, Your Lordship, she's just been fed."

"Good, good." He shook his head to show he didn't want a drink, Clarence did the same and they continued on with their stroll.

"It seems that little creature has decided to make this house her home."

"Which is our good fortune, Clarence."

"All the servants think a great deal of her."

"And why not? With that affectionate, gentle nature how could anyone refuse her slightest wish, but damnably fickle, Clarence, like all her kind, fickle."

"Yes." Smiled Clarence.

Cynthia and Lee came swirling past and she waved brightly to Haddington who stopped and stood smiling with his hands behind his back.

"That beautiful black body, Clarence, the sheer pleasure of stroking it cannot be matched."

"No, Your Lordship."

"But to think the little devil should spend the day in the woods with my gardener, the heartless little hussy."

"Yes, Your Lordship."

"But I forgive her, Clarence, and I gladly take her back."

"Yes." They were both smiling as they continued on their walk. Behind them they left pandemonium. The form of one stout lady lay to one side unconscious in her chair, as her daughter fanned her with concern and her husband rubbed her wrists.

Another lady was being held up by the arms by her sons.

"The beast, the man is a wanton beast, oh, it's horrible, horrible."

"What man, mother?" Asked one son.

"That.....that creature in human guise." She pointed to an innocent Haddington strolling away calmly talking to Clarence.

"What did he say?" Asked the second son of the first and got a shrug of the shoulders in reply.

"I'll go and get his Lordship." Said the daughter of the unconscious woman and took a few steps.

"No." Shrieked the standing woman and the younger woman stopped in her tracks. "Get her, bring her back," she ordered one of her sons, "do not allow that sweet creature to get within reach of that vile monster."

A gentleman leaned over to speak to the husband of the unconscious woman.

"Anything wrong, sir?"

"There's just been too much excitement, that's all."

Haddington and Clarence went on blissfully unaware to the old Lord's office. Winterhaiming was sitting in a chair having a drink when they came in. He stood up as Haddington grimly went to his desk and sat down, he eyed Winterhaiming carefully as he clasped his hands in front of him.

"I do hope we're not going to have any difficulties with you, sir." Said Haddington sternly.

"Of course not, Your Lordship." The young man said calmly as he returned to his seat.

"A drink if you please, Clarence." Said Haddington to Clarence, then returned to Winterhaiming, "you've taken this very well, sir, very well indeed. If there is one thing I admire more than anything else, it's gentlemanly conduct. I intend to reward such conduct."

"There's really no......"

"Don't interrupt, young man," he said with mock solemnity, "I have an interest in many companies in the city, I'm offering you a position on some of those companies."

"Well......"

"Good, I knew you'd accept. They won't be much of a drain on your time or energies but they will ensure that you can live like a decent human being."

Clarence came back with the drinks.

"I also want you to accept as a gift from me a few shares in those companies, in payment for your having come all this way and to have wasted so much of your time."

"There really is no......"

"Good." Haddington got to his feet, "let's drink on it, shall we. Your health." They all stood up and drained their glasses. "May I shake your hand, sir?" Winterhaiming stepped forward to offer his hand.

"I consider it a great privilege that I know you, Your Lordship." He smiled, "now, with your permission I should very much like to return to the festivities."

"By all means, Clarence, show the young man to the door."

"Of course." Clarence led the way across the room and stood with the door open, Winterhaiming nodded as he left.

"This calls for a cigar." Smiled Haddington as he took a cigar out of a box and lit it, as Clarence returned to the desk the old man offered him the box, Clarence took out a cigar and Haddington lit it for him. "The glasses, Clarence, they're empty."

"Not for long, Your Lordship." Clarence was puffing on his cigar contentedly and refilling the glasses when a knock came to the door.

"Come in." Said Haddington and the door was opened by Lee, "come in, my boy, join us in a drink."

"No thanks just the same, Your Lordship, I wanted to talk to you." Lee was very subdued.

"By all means."

"I'll just step outside." Said Clarence.

"No, I'd rather you stayed as well." Clarence stood where he was as Lee came across the room. "I've thought the whole thing over and I just can't allow you to go through with it, Your Lordship."

"What's that?" Said Haddington pretending to be deaf, "do you know what the boy's talking about, Clarence?"

"He's talking about publicly humiliating a certain old man who has told all his friends of a decision he's made. He is such a foolish young man he doesn't seem to care one bit about the disgrace he will cause to those who have been kind to him."

"Surely not, Clarence, not this young fellow. I know what it is, he's drunk too much wine and he has no idea what he's talking about."

"Your Lordship......"

"Not another word, if we're both in this room who is outside seeing to our guests?"

"Mr Lee is just on his way to do so, aren't you, Mr Lee?" Said Clarence.

Lee stood looking from Clarence to Haddington, unsure just what he should do.

"That young woman, my boy," said Haddington suddenly, "have you left her on her own?"

"It's alright, Your Lordship, she's dancing with Sir Rupert."

"Get back there at once and rescue that poor girl." Snapped Haddington jumping to his feet. Lee spun quickly to move to the door followed by Clarence. Lee opened the door just as Clarence reached it with him, without a backward glance Lee closed the door heavily behind him, on Clarence's fingers.

"Mr Lee.......ouch!" Said Clarence and Lee hurriedly opened the door, onto Clarence's head, "ouch!"

"Sorry, Clarence."

"That's quite alright, Mr Lee, I'm rather used to it."

"Did you want to say something to me?"

"I just wanted to say....." He was rubbing his forehead where the door hit him grimly, then he softened and in that normally stern face Lee caught the faint glimpse of a smile, "congratulations."

"Thank you." Lee smiled back. "That's very kind of you to say so."

Clarence closed the door.

"I suppose from tomorrow, I'll have to start calling that young man sir." He mused aloud as he walked back to the desk.

"If you don't hurry up and refill my glass that's not what I'll call you." Said Haddington testily.

"I wonder, Your Lordship, if you have made the best choice after all."Smiled Clarence.

"Stop trying to cover up your tardiness by trying to get on my good side, Clarence, where's my drink?"

"Coming, Your Lordship, coming."

As he came back with the glasses to stand to one side of the desk he saw Haddington absently about to drop his cigar a few inches from an ashtray. Clarence reached forward to grab at the ashtray but the old Lord brought his cigar down on Clarence's hand.

"Ouch!" He bellowed and startled Haddington who swung in his swivel chair to sweep the ashtray off the desk and on to Clarence's foot. "Ouch!"

"Clarence," said Haddington impatiently, "when in Heaven's name are you going to get over this confounded habit of yours of getting in people's way?"

"That's a question I've asked myself a thousand times, Your Lordship." Said Clarence alternately rubbing his hand and his foot.

"You must have gotten a thousand interesting replies." Smiled Haddington as he took a sip of his drink.

Clarence drained his glass and chatted for a few moments then decided to return to the celebrations, Haddington waved cheerfully and took up his box of cigars, deciding to indulge himself once more before throwing himself into the festivities again.

As he approached the door Clarence heard a familiar voice.

"........tiresome, don't bother to knock, knocking is so tiresome, don't knock, go in, go in, it would only be tiresome to knock." It was the voice of Sir Rupert, he glanced down to see the door knob slowly turning, he decided to be clever and stepped to one side so that he could hide behind the opening door.

Sir Rupert opened the door a little and was about to step inside when he tripped on the feet of a too eager Winterhaiming, he fell inside and the door flew from his grasp to be stopped by a dull thud.

"I am awfully sorry, Sir Rupert," said a shocked Winterhaiming.

"Think nothing of it, old chap, think nothing of it," Winterhaiming was helping him to his feet, "I'm getting as clumsy as Clarence, that's what I am, as clumsy as Clarence."

Now, for the first time Haddington became aware of their presence, he lit his cigar and sat watching them calmly.

"Clemmie, Clemmie." Smiled Sir Rupert as he came walking across the room, "close the door, Reggie, there's a good chap."

"Certainly, sir." He closed the door without noticing Clarence lying unconscious behind a chair.

"Rupert, Rupert." Said Haddington.

"That's a bad habit you're developing, old boy." Said Sir Rupert seating himself in a chair facing the desk.

"What habit is that, Rupert?"

"Repeating yourself, I'll have one of those, Reggie," he indicated the box of cigars, "repeating yourself, old boy." Winterhaiming was handed the box by Haddington and took it over to Sir Rupert, who made a choice, "thank you."

"I was not repeating myself."

"Of course you were, I heard you, you repeated yourself," he turned to Winterhaiming who was about to sit down after taking out a cigar for himself and returning the box to the desk, "light, Reggie, light, if you please."

"I was not repeating myself, Rupert."

"Tiresome, old boy, tiresome, repeating yourself is so tiresome."

"I was not........"

"Reggie heard you, didn't you, Reggie?"

"You did repeat yourself, Your Lordship." He was lighting Sir Rupert's cigar.

"It's tiresome, old boy, tiresome, isn't it tiresome Reggie?"

"It is very tiresome, Sir Rupert."

"Repeating oneself is tiresome." Said Sir Rupert.

"Very tiresome, Sir Rupert, very tiresome."

"Alright," said Haddington rubbing the side of his head with two fingers, "I was repeating myself, I was being tiresome, I won't let it happen again."

"I regret having to correct you, Clemmie."

"Correcting people is very tiresome." Said Winterhaiming.

"Aptly put, my boy," smiled Sir Rupert, "aptly put, correcting people is very tiresome."

"Rupert......"

"I've always found it very tiresome, Sir Rupert. Necessary but tiresome just the same."

"So have I, my boy, people will make mistakes, they have to be corrected, it's tiresome to have to do it, but as you said necessary."

"Rupert......"

"My foster parents make woeful mistakes, and I am compelled to correct them, very tiresome."

"It is a very tiresome........"

"Rupert!" Haddington slammed the desk with the palm of his hand.

"You see, my boy," said Sir Rupert sadly indicating Haddington, "another bad habit he's developing, thumping tables and shouting, tiresome, thumping tables and shouting."

"Tiresome." Agreed Winterhaiming.

"As you say, my boy, tiresome."

"I've begun to develop another tiresome habit." Said Haddington grimly.

"Have you, Clemmie, another habit, you'd think you had enough habits without developing another one."

"I've begun to suffer uncontrollable urges to strangle certain people with my bare hands."

"Oh, Clemmie, Clemmie," Sir Rupert was shaking his head sadly, "violence, Clemmie."

"Violence is tiresome."

"Exactly, my boy, tiresome, violence is tiresome."

"Very tiresome."

"Exactly, very tiresome."

"Rupert," Haddington was massaging his forehead, "why did you come in here?"

"We didn't want to be tiresome, Your Lordship."

"That's right," agreed Sir Rupert, "we didn't want to be tiresome, Clemmie, that's the last thing we wanted, to be tiresome."

"You're not......." Haddington began to shout then got control of himself, "you're not being tiresome."

"A gentleman, Clemmie, despite your terrible habits, you've never failed to act like a gentleman, ungentlemanly conduct is so tiresome."

"Chaps who refuse to act like gentlemen are very tiresome." Said Winterhaiming.

"Quite right, my boy, they can be terribly tiresome......"

"Rupert......"

"We had a chap like that visit us a couple of months ago," said Winterhaiming, incredibly tiresome fellow."

"I know exactly what you mean."

"Rupert......"

"We had to ask him to leave, his conduct was so tiresome."

"I don't blame you, if a chap is such a cad as to be so tiresome there is no other recourse left to decent people."

"Gentlemen," said Haddington grimly, "I must warn you that so far I've managed to control my inner urges to strangle the person nearest me, but at the present moment I'm fighting a losing battle."

Sir Rupert and Winterhaiming noticed the expression on his face so they slowly got to their feet and backed toward the door.

"Oh, dear me, dear me."

"He's not going to be tiresome, is he?" Asked Winterhaiming.

"Rupert, why not just tell me why you came in here?"

"I wouldn't dare, Clemmie, you'd be so overcome with disappointment that you'd surrender to those inner urges."

"You'd become tiresome." Said Winterhaiming.

"I think I've got control of them for the present."

"As you know, Clemmie, I can't stay here forever?"

"Can't you?" Asked Haddington in disbelief.

"I've decided to go home tomorrow, and with your permission I should like to take Reggie here to meet my good lady wife."

"Gentlemen," Haddington tried to keep himself from smiling to keep the overwhelming joy he felt from his voice, "it's alright, I'll be strong now, you need have no further fear."

"A real gentleman," smiled Sir Rupert, "a ripping fellow."

"I knew you'd take it like this, Your Lordship," said Winterhaiming as he was about to stride across the room to offer him his hand.

"No." Whispered Sir Rupert loudly as he grabbed the young man by the coat-tail, "keep your distance from him."

"But he's not being tiresome."

"He can change, my boy, he's not tiresome but he can change."

"I think it's time, gentlemen, we returned to our guests." Said Haddington getting to his feet and coming around the desk. Winterhaiming led the way across the room and stood with the door open, Sir Rupert and then Haddington went striding through.

Before he could close the door Haddington came back to stand beside Winterhaiming as he looked back into the room.

"That's odd."

"What is it, Your Lordship?"

"Where's Clarence?" He shrugged his shoulders and went out as Winterhaiming closed the door. Clarence was just coming to, he got to his hands and knees and shook his head to try and clear it, then groaned aloud when he realised what a mistake that was. He began to crawl toward the door slowly, as he neared it, it flew open.

Haddington came striding in oblivious to the dull thud made by the door and went to his desk. He smiled as he picked up his cigar, took a few puffs and came walking back across the room with the cigar between his lips, he stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

"Just like that confounded Clarence, just like the fellow, just like him." Said Sir Rupert.

"Is it?" Asked Haddington.

"It is, Clemmie, it is, it's just like him to disappear when you need him, he's disappeared just when he's needed."

"In what way is he needed, Rupert?"

"I wanted his advice on a most important matter, an important matter, I needed his advice, that's what I needed."

"About what?"

"Adoption, sir, the matter of adoption, I merely wanted his advice, that's all."

"Adoption?"

"Yes, adoption, it was a most important matter and now the confounded fellow has disappeared into thin air."

"What advice would you want about adoption, Rupert?"

"Just a thought I had, old boy, a thought that came into my head." He was looking across at Winterhaiming who was strolling calmly on the other side of Haddington.

"Don't be so tiresome." Said Haddington coldly.

The night was passing quickly and everybody was enjoying themselves. Haddington seemed to be everywhere and he still managed to have a couple of dances with Cynthia. He attempted to ask a stout lady for a dance but she, to his surprise, fled the room in hysterical terror.

He contented himself with standing on the side of the room chatting happily with some of his guests and sharing a drink.

Clarence stood on the opposite side of the room nursing a glass of wine and gingerly rubbing a set of sore lumps on his head.

"Ah, Mr Clarence."

"Vicar." He nodded as the vicar joined him and stood with his hands behind his back rocking on the balls of his feet to the lively music.

"What a grand night it's been."

"Yes."

"Look at that old chap, will you." He smiled as Haddington asked a young lady to dance and as he escorted her out to the centre of the floor there was a burst of applause. "Where does he get the energy from?" The vicar hummed a bit of the music then turned to look at Clarence earnestly. "Does he look different to you, Mr Clarence?"

"No, vicar, I can't say that he does, should he?"

"He looks younger, happier to me, as if a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders."

"Your vision must be better than mine."

"I was very worried about him after his wife passed on, you know, he had no family left of his own, I feared he was about to become a morose recluse."

"He still had Sir Rupert."

The vicar looked at him in silence for a few long moments then spoke as if he hadn't heard Clarence's remark.

"It was a great fear of mine that the old Lord would become a morose recluse, you know how deeply he was attached to his charming wife, and then suddenly he had no-one left."

"He may not show it, but it was a great blow to him."

"I don't doubt that for one moment." Said the vicar watching a laughing Haddington go dancing past with his partner. "She was such a frail creature and his devotion to her was so touching."

"His age may fool you a little, vicar, he's very resilient."

"I don't know, Mr Clarence," the vicar shook his head, "I saw signs, worrying signs."

"What signs? Signs of what?"

"It's unimportant now, thank God, the signs have all gone, we've got our old Lord back now. Although, not quite." Said the vicar with a frown.

"What do you mean?"

"As you know certain people, feeble minded people, I might add, in the village have taken to calling Lord Haddington by another name........."

"Lord Clumsy."

"Precisely," nodded the vicar, "Lord Clumsy, frightful ideas some people have for nicknames......."

"At the same time, quite apt." Said Clarence

"I might have agreed with you on that at one time, Mr Clarence, but lately I've noticed our good Lord Haddington has been nowhere near as clumsy as he once was."

"You'll have to pardon me, vicar," Clarence was rubbing his sore spots once again, "if I disagree with you on that observation."

"Oh, Mr Clarence, what makes you say that?"

"Signs, vicar, certain signs." Said Clarence ruefully.

"Hmmm." The vicar nodded vaguely, queer fellow, he thought to himself.

Haddington thoroughly enjoyed himself with a few more dances and then went to join Cynthia who sat fanning herself while she watched Lee and her mother dancing and chatting together. The old Lord stood just behind her mopping his brow with his handkerchief.

"Before this night's out, my dear, I must dance with your charming mother." He puffed.

"Father always says that she dances like an angel." Smiled Cynthia over her shoulder.

"Your necklace, my dear, the clasp seems to be broken." He leaned down to look at it closely.

"I'm afraid it's broken, Your Lordship, it keeps falling open, would you please close it for me?"

"Certainly," he was reaching down when Sir Rupert and Winterhaiming appeared from nowhere.

"Quickly, Reggie, grab his arm."

"What the blazes......."

"Now, you're not going to be tiresome, are you, Your Lordship?" Said Winterhaiming taking his arm in a grip of iron and bending it behind Haddington's back to pin it there, Sir Rupert did the same with his other arm.

"If you fools do not release my arms this instant I'm going to be positively wearisome."

"I told you, Reggie, didn't I? I told you?"

"You certainly did, Sir Rupert."

"Sir Rupert what are you doing?" Asked Cynthia getting to her feet and turning to look at them with a puzzled frown.

Sir Rupert looked around and saw a young man standing with his arms folded on his chest, listening to the music and watching the dancing.

"You, sir." The young man turned, "this young lady is in need of a dancing partner." The young man came over to bow and offer his arm.

"I don't want to dance."

"I would regard it as a great favour, my dear, if you would accept this fellow's offer so that I may settle this little misunderstanding." Said Lord Haddington grimly. Reluctantly she danced off with her escort. "Besides, I wouldn't want her fainting at the sight of blood." Said Haddington pointedly looking at Sir Rupert and then Winterhaiming.

"I told you, Reggie, I said so, didn't I?"

"Of course you did, Sir Rupert."

"He's about to be tiresome, Reggie, I can tell, he's about to be tiresome."

"How tiresome." Said Winterhaiming.

"If you chaps will just release....." Haddington struggled in vain.

"I saw you, Clemmie, I saw you, you were about to strangle that poor girl."

"What! Rupert will you stop being so...so......"

"Tiresome?" Suggested Winterhaiming.

"Ridiculous." Said Haddington impatiently, "I was about to fix her necklace, the clasp had come undone."

"This is terrible," sighed Sir Rupert as he watched Cynthia go sliding past, "this is terrible, Clemmie, now you're pretending to yourself."

"How tiresome."

"Rupert, what are you talking about?"

"The girl is not wearing a necklace, she's not, you know, she's not wearing a necklace."

"Of course she is."

"She's not, Clemmie, she's not."

"Alright, she'll be around again and I'll show you, if she's wearing a necklace will you let me go?"

"That seems reasonable, Clemmie, that's a reasonable request, I can see no reason......."

"Just say yes or no."

"Yes, Clemmie, if that's what you want, by all means, I agree......"

"And you?" He asked Winterhaiming.

"If you promise not to be tiresome."

"When my arms are released, sir, I can promise you absolutely I shall not be tiresome." He said with a glint in his eyes.

"Done."

They stood waiting until Cynthia came dancing by, she saw Winterhaiming and Sir Rupert smiling in triumph while they held a red-faced Haddington by the arms.

"The blasted thing must have broken, I tell you."

"Now, now, Clemmie."

"You're being tiresome, you promised you wouldn't."

"If you gentlemen do not release me this instant I'm going to be tiresome to such an extent that I shall throw you both through a window."

"You see, Reggie, you see, I told you?"

"You did tell me, Sir Rupert."

"Rupert........" Haddington was struggling angrily.

"I told you, Reggie, we can't leave the poor chap like this, we just can't leave tomorrow."

Haddington stopped struggling and his face took on an angelic expression.

"What's happening?" He asked calmly, "where am I?" He turned to smile sweetly first at Sir Rupert and then at Winterhaiming. "Thank you, gentlemen. Thank you. I must have had one of my turns again, but now I'm cured, I'll never want to strangle anyone again in my whole life."

"Are you sure, Clemmie, are you sure?"

"Let me prove it to you. You must release my arms." Sir Rupert exchanged a glance with Winterhaiming who finally nodded after a few moments. "Now, Rupert, I'll just place my hands around your throat." Sir Rupert took a step back in fright. "I'm cured, Rupert, you must have faith in me."

"Couldn't you put your hands around Reggie's throat and I can watch and have faith that way?"

"Come, come, Rupert, are you saying that you don't have faith in your own brother?"

"Well......well," he swallowed, "I warn you that at the first sign of pressure I shall faint."

With a strange look in his eyes Haddington came toward him with raised hands to clamp them about his brother's throat lightly, he raised his eyes to the ceiling. 'I could always plead insanity.' He thought to himself.

"Your Lordship?" Asked a worried Winterhaiming.

"Don't interrupt me, my boy, just let me enjoy this moment a little longer."

It was at this stage Cynthia came gliding past once again to look with surprise at the three of them before they were left behind.

Reluctantly Haddington lowered his arms with a sigh.

"I believe, Clemmie, you are cured." Smiled Sir Rupert happily. "Another miracle cure."

"Miracles are tiresome things." Said Winterhaiming.

"Tiresome or not, my boy," said Haddington, "you've been the witness to one tonight."

In the middle of the dancing, above the chatter of the people and the music of the orchestra a voice suddenly bellowed clearly:

"MY PARTY, MY PARTY, ASSEMBLE AT THE ENTRANCE IF YOU PLEASE."

"It sounds as if the vicar and his party are leaving." Smiled Haddington.

"That will thin our ranks, Clemmie."

"I don't know about thinning the ranks, Rupert, it will damn near empty the place." He turned to go. "I'd best see him off." Then he strode off.

The dance came to an end and Cynthia was about to dash over to see if Haddington was alright when her escort drew her attention to the necklace he had been holding for her after the clasp had broken again.

She put it around her throat and asked him to lock it for her, he had his back to Sir Rupert and Winterhaiming as he did so, as the couples all left the floor Sir Rupert caught sight of them and his eyes bulged from his head.

"Reggie......" He grabbed Winterhaiming's arm.

"Yes, Sir Rupert?"

"Reggie, do you see there?" Winterhaiming followed his gaze, "Reggie, we have to save that poor girl."

"Are mental delusions contagious?"

"Come along, lad, we have no time to spare." He rushed off to be followed by Winterhaiming.

"........the clasp is certainly broken, Miss Marlebone."

"I wish I had not worn the wretched thing."

"It's been a wonderful night, Your Lordship." Said the vicar's wife.

"It certainly has," smiled the vicar, "a marvellous success."

"Mr Clarence must take the credit for that."

"Not at all." Smiled Clarence. They all said goodnight and the vicar and his wife climbed into their carriage and took up a position on the tail end of a long row of carriages clattering away.

"I wonder if they'll all come again next year." Chuckled Haddington as they were walking back into the house.

"If they do, I hope they give us plenty of warning." Said Clarence.

"Nonsense, Clarence," said Haddington with a laugh as he put his hand on Clarence's shoulder, "you know you enjoyed having them."

"I didn't mind, Your Lordship, I just did the organising, I didn't have to pay for it."

Haddington stopped suddenly, looked at Clarence, then slapped him on the shoulder and burst into laughter.

They entered the house to see one of their guests standing with a red face as he glared through the monocle held to his eye at Winterhaiming and Sir Rupert who stood with one of the servants, pinning the servant's arms to his side.

"What is the meaning of this?" Demanded the guest.

"It's alright, Sir Henry," said Haddington dashing from the side of a startled Clarence who stood looking on in silence.

"I asked this servant to put my cloak....."

"Quite alright, Sir Henry," Haddington said soothingly as he picked up the cloak to put on Sir Henry's shoulders, led him to the door and pushed him out, "your carriage is waiting for you, goodnight."

"Good......." The door was closed in his face, with a stern look, Haddington came striding back to face the terrified servant.

"Don't let him go, Reggie, don't let him go."

"I have him, Sir Rupert."

"How could you, James," demanded Haddington.

"Your Lordship?" Asked a quaking voice.

"Don't lie to me, James, you told me you were cured."

"Your Lordship?"

"I want you to prove you're cured."

"Your Lordship?"

"You may let him go gentlemen." Sir Rupert and Winterhaiming reluctantly did so, "now, James, put your hands about Sir Rupert's throat."

"Your Lordship!"

"Must he, Clemmie, must he, why not use someone else to prove he's cured, he might not be cured, what if he chokes the life out of me before your eyes?"

"Sir Rupert?" Asked the terrified servant.

"You need have no fear, Rupert, the fellow is cured."

"Why not use someone else, why not use Clarence, his throat is thicker than mine."

"Alright, alright, we'll use....." Haddington turned to where he had left Clarence, but the space was now deserted. "He's gone."

"I can't blame him." Said Sir Rupert.

"You want to help James don't you?"

"Well......"

"Or would you rather see him swinging from a gibbet?"

"Your Lordship?" Quaked James.

"Certainly not. Alright, put your hands about my throat, but the slightest pressure and I'll faint."

Nervously James put his hands about Sir Rupert's throat and stood looking at Haddington in bewilderment.

"Do I choke Sir Rupert now, Your Lordship."

Just for one second Haddington hesitated. "No, James, you're cured now, you don't want to choke Sir Rupert do you?"

"Oh, no, Your Lordship."

"Then remove your hands, now go on with your duties."

"Very good, Your Lordship." He bowed and with a nervous glance over his shoulder at Winterhaiming and Sir Rupert he walked down the corridor.

"He wasn't really ill," said Haddington, "it's just that he's so devoted to me he feels he must copy my ways, even my faults."

"Yes."

"Ah, Clarence, so glad to have you back with us."

All four were walking back down the corridor when Winterhaiming spoke. "There is another problem, Your Lordship."

"Is there?"

"Yes, we locked him in here." Winterhaiming went to a door and opened it, in the small room by the light of a table lamp stood Cynthia's dancing partner, he stood with wide eyes and was shaking uncontrollably.

"He was about to attack Cynthia." Said Sir Rupert.

"I was helping her with her necklace....."

"Not another word, sir." Commanded Lord Haddington sternly. "This calls for another cure."

"Oh, no, no, Clemmie."

"There's no need for you to worry, Rupert, I'll just ask Clar......" Haddington turned to his right to see an empty space where he thought Clarence had been standing only seconds before.

It was in the early hours of the morning before the last guest had left, Haddington and Clarence sat talking in Haddington's office to be joined by Cynthia and Lee who were too excited to sleep and finally by Cloud.

They talked for hours and finally they all decided it was time to retire. Haddington and Clarence were the last to leave, they came slowly walking out of the office toward the stairs.

"If I may, Your Lordship, your cravat is a little out of place." Haddington stood there patiently with his hands behind his back, Clarence was just reaching for the cravat.

"We've no time to spare, Reggie, quickly, don't waste time."

"I'm here, Sir Rupert."

"Oh, Lord." Sighed Haddington to himself.

A few moments later Gilmore was passing the top of the stairs, he heard the murmur of voices from below, he walked softly to the banister to look over.

"You're telling me not to choke Sir Rupert, Your Lordship?" Clarence was asking as he had his hands on Sir Rupert's throat.

"You want to be cured don't you?"

"I'm not sure."

"Clarence." Came the voice of Sir Rupert.

Gilmore shook his head and went quietly about his tasks.

Later, in his room, Haddington found it impossible to sleep. He got out of bed, dressed and went downstairs through a darkened silent house apart from the soft glow of one or two lamps. He went into the ballroom with a candle, this was the only light. All the tables had been cleared away and the floor swept clean so that as he crossed the room his footsteps echoed hollowly.

He placed the candle on a window sill in the far corner of the ballroom then he began to slowly pace up and down the long room, all one side was lined with French doors and as his eyes became accustomed to the dark he could see the trees a short distance away with a clear, star-studded sky.

He was just making his third trip back down the room, his shoes squeaking across the floor boards when a small, dark shape came padding toward him, to rub itself against his leg with a soft meow.

"Well, well," smiled Haddington as he reached down to pick up Miss Blackie, "so you've come to keep me company, have you?" He nursed her in his arms as she purred softly. He walked slowly up and down the room, then took up the candle and went off into a side corridor.

There was a row of paintings hanging from one wall and Haddington stopped under each one to hold up the candle.

"This is the gentleman that started it all." Miss Blackie looked up with wide eyes as if listening to every word he said, "my great, great grandfather. A rogue, knave, villain, but the lover of queens and the friend of kings. An extraordinary man who lived in extraordinary times," he glanced down at Miss Blackie, "so you should be impressed."

He moved on to talk softly about the other paintings until he reached one that he looked up at in silence for a long time. Miss Blackie was looking up with apparent interest.

"I thought you'd recognise those handsome, boyish features. That's me thirty years ago, do you see that diamond pin in my cravat? That was a birthday gift from my wife. Do you know how much it cost......?" Miss Blackie's expression didn't change, "neither do I, the cost is immaterial. I still have that pin, I'd rather have......." His voice trailed off again, "we don't want to get maudlin, do we?" He smiled at Miss Blackie who meowed softly, "of course we don't. We have a new family now, what's past is past." He looked up at the painting again and shook his head, "thirty years." It wasn't that he was sad just surprised at how quickly thirty years could pass.

He came back into the ballroom to see that the night was passing and the trees were standing out in the first grey light of morning. He blew out the candle and was just crossing the room when he saw a dark shape standing inside one of the open French doors.

"Who is that?"

"I've come for the small creature." Said a strange muffled voice.

"I beg your pardon?" The shape stepped forward and Haddington recognised him, "Mr Garth, you startled me."

"Sorry, Your Lordship, I didn't want to raise my voice too high."

"That's alright."

"I've come for Miss Blackie, the lads are fretting for her."

"Are they?"

"For the last couple of mornings she came with me while I did my rounds, she used to clean her little paws on Henry, but Ben has been getting a little jealous, so this morning I thought I might ask her to clean her paws on Ben."

"I'm sure she'd readily comply." Garth came across the room to take Miss Blackie who gave a soft meow to Haddington and then went off purring in the gardener's arms.

Haddington stood with his hands in his pockets while he watched Garth cross the lawn, talking to Miss Blackie all the way, and disappear into the trees.

The old man walked up and down the ballroom once more as the birds outside suddenly burst into song as the first rays of the sun touched the very tops of the trees. Then he saw Two-Refs run quickly down the lawn and go into the trees toward where the road to the village lay.

Haddington left the ballroom and met Cloud walking toward the morning room for breakfast.

"Good morning, Smokey." Smiled Haddington cheerfully.

"Good morning, Clem."

"I just saw.....my grandson, he never misses his morning run, does he?"

"He better not, if he knows what's good for him." Said Cloud trying in vain to be stern, "he has to keep in shape."

"Absolutely." Haddington patted him on the shoulder.

After breakfast Clarence was making his way back to his room to start on the paperwork to finalise Haddington's decision when he met Lee in the corridor.

"Just the man I want to see."

"Really, sir?" Asked Clarence.

"There's a family in the village by the name of Dobkins......" Lee had just finished his run and was wiping perspiration from his face with a towel.

"Yes, sir, I know all about them, and their wall."

"You do?"

"You need not concern yourself with them any longer, His Lordship in his wisdom and generosity has ensured they receive a substantial sum to recompense them for all their trouble."

"A substantial sum?"

"Five hundred pounds, sir."

"Gee, the old man really is generous....." Lee stopped, to continue wiping his face.

"No one has ever found him otherwise." Clarence strolled on with a pleased expression.

".....and fast, too."

Clarence stopped and turned to look back at Lee. "Fast?"

"That's right, I don't know how he found out so quick about the accident ......."

"Accident, sir?"

"With the Dobkin's wall, there was this big fellow in a cart and I......."

"When did this accident take place?"

"Just now, I've only just left it, I hope......"

"It's alright, sir," said Clarence wearily, "I'll take care of everything."

"I didn't mean to wreck the wall....."

"Don't give the matter another thought."

"I hope the fellow in the cart is alright, the way he floated through the air to....."

"Mr Lee, I shall see to it." Said Clarence firmly.

"If you say so. Good morning."

"Morning, sir." Clarence bowed from the waist as Lee strolled away.

Haddington was very pleased, very pleased indeed, he'd spent a wonderful morning with Cynthia and her mother where they had all talked hours on end about his new grandson.

Now, much later, he came down the stairs from his room with a cigar in his mouth, humming happily as he took each step, when he had almost reached the bottom the sound of a familiar voice stopped him and silenced him.

"....... a tongue, sir, a tongue, haven't you got a tongue?" It was the voice of Sir Rupert, Haddington groaned, turned and was just about to go up the stairs when he froze in his tracks.

"Certainly I've got a tongue." The voice was rough, low and unfamiliar. Haddington went back down the few steps and poked his head around the corner, Sir Rupert was standing before a suit of armour.

"Then why in the name of Heaven haven't you used it before?"

"Because I chose not to."

The voice came from the suit of armour, Haddington's mouth fell open and his cigar fell to the ground.

"That reply is inadequate, sir, God gave all his creatures tongues, and he expects all of them to make use of that tongue; you, sir, have been failing in your duties."

"Not in this house, do you know that until you came there was not a soul of sufficient intelligence to match my own that I could have a good talk to."

"Indeed?"

"I will only speak to intelligent, charming people of wit and sophistication, such as yourself."

"How very kind of you to say so."

"Rupert." Haddington came down the corridor with a frown on his face.

"Oh, good morning, Clemmie....."

"Rupert, you're talking to......."

"A suit of armour, I know, charming fellow."

"And he was talking back."

"Of course."

Haddington took a quick look behind the armour and then lifted the visor to look inside.

"Don't do that, old boy." Said Sir Rupert, "he says it lets the draught in."

"I didn't hear him."

"He didn't say it just now, he said it to me before."

"Make him say something else." Said Haddington as he stepped back.

"Alright," smiled Sir Rupert and then turned to the suit of armour, "how's the wife?"

"Hows the wife?" Demanded Haddington.

"No, Clemmie, I just asked him that."

"Well, what did he say?"

"He hasn't said anything yet, you keep interrupting."

"Alright, alright." Said Haddington impatiently.

"The weather has been good, hasn't it?" Sir Rupert stood with a smile on his face.

"Well, well, Rupert, what was his reply?"

"He hasn't said anything yet."

"Make him speak, Rupert, go on make him speak."

"I can't do that, old boy."

"Tell him about his tongue, tell him to use his tongue."

"Do suits of armour have tongues?"

"You heard him speak, so did I."

"Then in that case you heard what he said, Clemmie?"

"He's my suit of armour, make him speak to me." Demanded Haddington.

"This is a free country, Clemmie, if a suit of armour chooses not to speak then we, as Englishmen, must abide by his decision."

Haddington turned to stride off.

"The old fool." Came from the suit of armour.

Haddington stopped and spun. Sir Rupert wore an innocent expression as he pointed to the suit of armour, Haddington grunted angrily and resumed his walk, as he turned the corner to go up the stairs he heard more of the conversation.

"Thank goodness, he's gone."

"Now, now, old boy," he heard Sir Rupert saying, "he's not such a bad chap." Haddington went angrily up the stairs.

Sir Rupert stood with a bemused expression on his face as he looked down to the end of the corridor where Haddington had just disappeared from view.

Across the corridor Winterhaiming stepped from behind a curtain laughing to himself.

"How was that, my boy?"

"Wonderful, Sir Rupert, wonderful."

"May I ask, Reggie, just what were we doing?" Asked Sir Rupert as they both walked down the corridor toward the front door.

"It was just a joke, Sir Rupert." Winterhaiming chuckled.

"It didn't seem funny to me."

"Believe me, it was, very funny."

"That's quite a gift you have, my boy, of throwing your voice like that."

"You meet many interesting people these days at university, Sir Rupert, and you can learn many things from them."

A short time later Gilmore was leading one of the new maids into the corridor. He stopped at the threshold with the maid at his elbow.

".......do you hear me? Now speak to me?" Haddington stood beside a suit of armour holding it by one of its metal arms, Clarence stood beside him with a blank expression. "You spoke to Rupert, and by God you'll speak to me or I'll put you in the boxroom where you'll not see another soul."

"Your Lordship......" Began Clarence.

"It did speak to Rupert, Clarence, I heard it."

"I'm sure it did, Your Lordship."

"Why won't it speak to me, Clarence, after all, it is my suit of armour." Without intending to Haddington pulled too hard and the arm of the suit of armour came off in his hand.

"I'm not surprised it won't speak to you." Said Clarence looking at the detached arm.

Gilmore became aware of the maid at his elbow, he pointed silently and shooed her out of the corridor.

"You can clean the corridor later."

"I had heard, like, that he was a bit daft, like." Said the maid.

"You will keep your nonsense about Lord Haddington to yourself."

"I wasn't talkin' about Lord Haddington, I was talkin' about that Sir Rupert."

"That's no way to act, you damn fool." Garth called angrily up at the tree, to step aside quickly as a branch dropped to the ground just missing him. "Is that a way for a grown tree to act? Is it?" Another branch just missed him. "I tell you the little creature promised that tomorrow she will sharpen her claws on your feet, now what more can I do?" He jumped back as a branch plummeted to the ground. "Ah, you're acting like a spoilt little twig, I want no more to do with you." Garth strode off angrily.

They had all seen Sir Rupert and Winterhaiming off and now they came strolling into the forest to enjoy the warm afternoon sunshine.

Haddington had Lady Marlebone on one arm while he nursed a contented Miss Blackie in the other.

Lee and Cloud were behind involved in a deep discussion while Clarence took up the rear with Cynthia on his arm.

"You can't Smoke, you just can't, we need you here." Lee was saying.

"He's quite right." Agreed Haddington.

"I'm a boxing manager, Two-Refs, what could I do around here?"

"Manage." Said Haddington.

"That's right, Smoke, you could manage the place."

"Clarence does that."

"I'm sure Mr Clarence would be more than pleased to have some of the burden taken off his shoulders." Haddington said as he smiled over his shoulder.

"Mr Clarence certainly would." Agreed Clarence.

"I wouldn't want charity." Said Cloud.

"Believe me, Cloud, you'll earn every penny you're paid." Said Clarence.

"We really need you here, Smoke." Pleaded Lee.

"We certainly do." Agreed Haddington.

"I'll make sure you keep up with your work-outs, and that you keep in shape." Cloud told Lee.

"I will, Smoke."

"Alright, get the tree, Two-Refs, get the tree."

"Does that mean you'll stay?"

"Not unless you get the tree." Smiled Cloud.

"What do you want me to do, Smoke, tear it out by the roots?" Laughed Lee as he ran to the foot of the nearest tree.

"Just a few punches, boy, I don't want you getting too ambitious."

"Right." Lee took up a stance and threw a few punches that connected heavily with the trunk of the tree.

Ben dropped a few branches down at Lee angrily, but Lee was bouncing around with speed and agility and was totally unaware of the near misses.

"Let's see you run, boy." Cloud demanded, and Lee ran off as fast as he could through the trees, Ben was still dropping his branches, Cloud stood below with his hands on his hips, proudly watching Lee disappearing.

Haddington and his group moved on, they were all watching Lee, after they'd taken a few steps they stopped while Haddington allowed Miss Blackie to leap from his arms and go over to a tree to scratch at it with her claws.

"I'll bet that's Henry." Murmured Haddington as Miss Blackie yawned widely, stretched her body with her rump in the air and then curled up comfortably between the roots.

"What a lovely day it is." Smiled Lady Marlebone.

"I say, it's just occurred to me," said Clarence suddenly, "where's Cloud?" They all turned to look back at the base of the tree, but apart from a pile of branches on the ground there was no sign of the American. As soon as Clarence realised what he'd said he began to chuckle and then to laugh.

Lady Marlebone looked at Haddington with a puzzled frown, but the old Lord shrugged his shoulders in reply. Just the same they all smiled at Clarence as his laughter echoed through the trees.

The End.

