Brothers & Sisters - John & Anna Buchan Edition (Collection of Their Greatest Works). Buchan JohnЧитать онлайн книгу.
twenty-four hours it would be as well if the park were open to the public.”
“Are you serious?” Alison looked puzzled. “Come in at once and explain things. I’ve had a lot of trouble keeping our own lot quiet. Mr Craw has been rather above himself. That beloved Mr McCunn is my great ally. He said, ‘I’ll take no responsibility about anything till Jaikie comes. It’s Jaikie that’s got the sow by the lug.’”
Mrs Brisbane-Brown’s drawing-room was as bright and gracious in the October sun as when Jaikie had visited it a week ago. But then he had entered it with curiosity and trepidation; now it seemed too familiar to give a thought to; it was merely a background for various human beings with whom he had urgent business. The coffee cups were still in the room, and the men were smoking. Prince John wore the clothes he had worn the day before, and in the clear afternoon light looked more elegant than ever. He was talking to Charvill, who was much about his height, and looking up at them was Dickson McCunn in an ancient suit of knickerbockers, listening reverently. The hostess sat in her accustomed chair, busy at her usual needlework, and beside her was the anxious face of Mr Barbon. Dougal was deep in that day’s issue of the View. But the centre of the company was Mr Craw. He stood with his back to the fire, his legs a little apart, and his eyes on Mrs Brisbane-Brown. He seemed to have recovered his balance, for there was no apology or diffidence in his air. Rather it spoke of renewed authority. He had also recovered his familiar nattiness of attire. Gone were the deplorable garments provided by the Watermeeting innkeeper and the Portaway draper. He wore a neat grey suit with a white line in it, a grey tie with a pearl pin, and the smartest of tan shoes. His garb was almost festive.
“I am very glad to see you, Mr Galt,” said Mrs Brisbane-Brown. “You look a little the worse for wear. Have you had luncheon?… Well, you have been giving us all a good deal to think about. It looks as if the situation had rather got out of hand. Perhaps you can clear things up.”
Jaikie’s mild eyes scanned the party. He saw Dougal hungry for enlightenment, Mr Barbon fearful lest some new horror should be sprung upon him, Charvill prepared to be amused, Prince John smilingly careless as being used to odd adventures, Dickson puzzled but trustful, Mr Craw profoundly suspicious. He met their eyes in turn, and then he met Alison’s, and the lashes of one of hers drooped over her cheek in a conspirator’s wink.
“A week ago,” he said slowly, “I was given my instructions. I was told to find Mr Craw at the Back House of the Garroch and keep him hidden till the Evallonians left Knockraw. I have fulfilled them to the letter. There’s not a soul except ourselves knows where Mr Craw has been. Nobody has recognised him. The world believes that he’s living quietly at Castle Gay… And the Knockraw people by this time must be in London… “
Mrs Brisbane-Brown laughed. “A very good account of your stewardship… On the other side the situation can scarcely be said to have cleared. We have his Royal Highness here in close hiding, and a number of men in Portaway who mean every kind of mischief to him and to Mr Craw. The question is, what we are to do about it. This state of affairs cannot go on indefinitely.”
“It can’t,” said Jaikie. “It must be cleared up to-morrow night.”
“Will you please explain?”
“It all begins,” said Jaikie, “with the man Allins.”
“He is shockingly underbred,” said Mrs Brisbane-Brown. “I never understood why Mr Craw employed him. Poor Freddy can’t have been happy with him… You think he is something worse?”
“I can prove that he is a rogue,” said Jaikie calmly, and embarked on his tale.
He dealt first with Allins, recounting his meetings with him, from the Cambridge club to the episode of the previous day. He told the story well, and he purposely made Mr Craw the hero of it—Mr Craw’s encounter with Allins in the street, Mr Craw at the Socialist meeting, Mr Craw as a Communist orator. The hero was made a little self-conscious by the narrative, but he was also flattered. He became slightly pink and shifted his feet.
“What astonishing presence of mind!” said Mrs Brisbane-Brown. “I warmly congratulate you.”
“I must not be understood to have made a speech in favour of Communism,” said Mr Craw. “It was a speech condemnatory of official Socialism, showing its logical culmination.”
“Anyway, it did the trick,” said Jaikie. “Allins dropped his suspicions. Mr Craw’s disguise was pretty good in any case. You saw him yourself yesterday.”
“I did,” said Mrs Brisbane-Brown. “I thought he was the piano-tuner from Gledmouth, who is a little given to drink.”
Mr Craw frowned. “Will you continue, Mr Galt? Detail the suspicions you entertain about Mr Allins.”
“He brought the Evallonians to Knockraw, and was paid for it. We have it on their own testimony. He brought the other Evallonians to Portaway and is being paid for it. And the man is in a sweat of fear in case the plot fails. The price must be pretty big.”
“The plot! What is it? What evidence have you?”
“The evidence of my own eyes and ears. I spent part of yesterday afternoon with Allins, and two hours last night with him and his friends.”
Jaikie had an audience which hung on his lips while he told of how he had made himself ground-bait for the predatory fish. There was a good deal of the actor in him, and he did full justice to his alcoholic babblings of the afternoon, and the grim inquisition of the evening. He even allowed part of his motive to appear. “They called me a little rat,” he said meditatively.
“You led them to believe that Count Casimir and his friends were now at Castle Gay. May I ask why?” Mr Craw’s voice was harsh with offence.
“Because I wanted the Knockraw people to have plenty of time to get clear.”
“For which purpose I am to be sacrificed?”
“Your interests and theirs are the same. You must see that. What they want is to find the Evallonian monarchists and Prince John and you yourself in some close relation, and to publish the fact to the world. That would give them a big advantage. It would kill your power to help Casimir, and it would put Britain definitely against him. Our people would never stand the notion that you and the Evallonians were conspiring on British soil, and the presence of Prince John would put the lid on it. You see that, don’t you?”
“I see that it was desirable to get rid of the Knockraw tenants… But I do not see why I should be exposed to a visit from those Republican miscreants.”
“It was the only way to make Casimir’s escape certain… What will happen, Mr Craw? The Republicans think that Casimir and the Prince are safe at Castle Gay. They won’t trouble very much about them till to-morrow night, when they are coming to see you, hoping to catch the lot of you in the very act of conspiracy. They chose Friday because it is the day of the poll, and the countryside will be in a stir, and they think that your outdoor and indoor servants will be mostly in Portaway. Well, all you’ve got to do is to be there to meet them, and tell them you never heard of any such nonsense, and send them all to blazes. Then it will be they who will look the fools, and you won’t be troubled any more from that quarter. We must settle this business once and for all, and give you some security for a quiet life.”
“It will be a very unpleasant experience for me,” said Mr Craw. But there was no panic in his voice, only irritation. The listeners received the impression that there would be a certain asperity in Mr Craw’s reception of the Evallonian delegates.
“Of course,” Jaikie added, “it will all have to be stage-managed a little. You can trust me for that.”
“What I don’t understand,” said Mrs Brisbane-Brown, “is why his Royal Highness did not accompany the Knockraw party… It sounds shockingly inhospitable, sir, and I need not tell you how deeply honoured I am to have you in my house. But I am thinking of your own interests. You are the most important personage in this business, and it is imperative to get you out of danger at once. Yet you are still here, in hiding, only