Blake's Burden

There were signs of tension in Challoner's face and Mrs. Chudleigh pitied him, but she was forced to be merciless.

"That seems to have been taken for granted. What then?"

"It was a dark night and nobody saw who gave the order, but Blake was stationed with his electric apparatus in the ravine and the bugler some distance behind him. Besides, the latter was attached to Captain Challoner's company."

"But Blake did not fire the mine." Challoner's voice was strained.

"That is true. The conclusion was that he had deserted his post, but I believe it must be wrong because he was seen busy with the wires."

"Who saw him?"

"One of his comrades, after the attack began, and it seems impossible that Blake could have reached the bugler when the retreat was sounded. There were one or two other points which might have been raised, only that he made no defence. I will mention them."

She had after a long and careful consideration arranged her evidence in a skilful manner. Facts which had appeared of minor importance to the men who had noticed them had now, as she handled them, a telling effect and Challoner grew troubled.

"If needful, I believe I could prove all this, though it would require strong pressure to make my informant speak," she concluded. "You must see what it implies?"

"That my son is a coward and gave the shameful order?" Challoner's eyes glittered, though his face was colourless. "It's unthinkable!"

"Nevertheless it's true. Why did he, without permission and abusing his authority over the guard, spend two hours late at night with Blake who was under arrest? What had they to say that took so long, when there was a risk of Captain Challoner's being discovered? Why did Blake make no defence, unless it was because he knew that to clear himself would throw the blame upon his friend?"

"You press me hard," said Challoner in a hoarse voice. "But that my son should so have failed in his duty to his country and his cousin is impossible."

"Yet you were willing to believe your nephew guilty. Had you any cause to doubt his courage?"

"No," said Challoner. "I used to think he loved a risk."

He felt beaten by her remorseless reasoning; there was scarcely a point he could contest and his heart grew very heavy. A conviction that humbled him to the dust was being forced on him.

"There is only one conclusion," Mrs. Chudleigh resumed. "The order to retreat was given by the weaker man, Bertram Challoner."

He turned to her with a gesture that begged her to desist. "My dear lady, this is very painful. I must try to think it out calmly, and I am not able now."

For a time there was strained silence, and Mrs. Chudleigh waited until he roused himself.

"I must know if what you have told me has any bearing on your request that I should recommend Captain Sedgwick's appointment?"

She paused before she answered, for he was very stern and peremptory.

"Not a direct one. I have kept the secret out of consideration for you and your son, but since I have done so, I ventured to believe you would not refuse me a favour that would only cost you a few words to your friend."

"I'm relieved to hear it," Challoner grimly replied. "You wish to appeal to my gratitude and not my fears? Has it struck you that, if you are correct in your conclusions, by keeping silent you were wronging an innocent man?"

"Think!" she said impressively. "In a sense, Blake stands by himself, a man of no importance; your son is heir to a fine estate and is expected to carry on the traditions of the family. He has a young wife who adores him, and many friends. Is a career such as lies before him to be destroyed by one weak action which he has since well atoned for? I believe your nephew saw that his cousin's disgrace would be a disaster and felt that at any cost the situation must be saved."

Challoner regarded her with a stern smile. "One would imagine that you are trying to heighten the value of your silence."

"You misjudge me, but since you take this line, I have some claim on your gratitude. Can you deny it?"

"I had better answer frankly. If my opinion is desired, I will try to consider Captain Sedgwick's appointment on its merits. You must not count on more than this."

Mrs. Chudleigh rose and they turned back to the road in silence. It looked as if she had failed, but she would not give up the game yet. When Challoner had time to think he would, no doubt, realize the necessity of safeguarding his son's good name and even his austere uprightness might fail to stand the strain.

It was half an hour later when Mrs. Keith, who had walked as fast as she was able, met Foster and the others coming back. She stopped, hot and breathless, with keen disappointment, for neither Colonel Challoner nor Mrs. Chudleigh were among them. Then, rousing herself, with an effort, she asked where they were.

"I can't tell," Mrs. Foster replied. "They dropped behind us and may have gone home. Mrs. Chudleigh soon gets tired of walking."

Mrs. Keith's heart sank and Foster noticed her expression. "It's a good way from Hazlehurst, but you look as if you had been hurrying," he remarked. "Are you very much disappointed that you didn't meet us earlier?"

"I am disappointed that I missed Challoner," Mrs. Keith answered with a forced smile.

Foster, who gave her a keen glance, tactfully talked about his shooting as they went back together, and on reaching the house they found that Challoner had already driven home.

CHAPTER XIX

CHALLONER'S DECISION

The morning was mild and Challoner paced slowly up and down his shrubbery. Bright sunshine fell upon him, the massed evergreens cut off the wind, and in a sheltered border spear-like green points were pushing through the soil in promise of the spring. Challoner knew them all, the veined crocus blades, the tight-closed heads of the hyacinths, and the twin shoots of the daffodils, but, fond as he was of his garden, he gave them scanty attention, and by and by sat down in a sheltered nook lost in painful thought. He had a careworn look and had left the house in a restless mood with a wish to be alone in the open air.

Mrs. Chudleigh's revelation had been a shock. With his sense of duty and family pride, he had, when the news of the frontier disaster first reached him, found it almost impossible to believe that his nephew had been guilty of shameful cowardice; and now it looked as if the disgrace might be brought still closer home. Bertram would presently take his place and, retiring from active service, rule the estate in accordance with Challoner traditions and perhaps exert some influence in politics; he remembered that Mrs. Chudleigh had laid some stress on this. She had, however, told him that Bertram, from whom so much was expected, had shown himself a poltroon and, what was even worse, had allowed an innocent man to suffer for his baseness. Challoner had spent the last few days pondering the evidence she had offered him and had seen one or two weak points in it. By making the most of these, it might, perhaps, be rebutted, but his honesty rendered such a course out of the question if she were right in her conclusions, and he was forced to admit that this was possible. Bertram had shown timidity in his younger days – Challoner remembered that they had had some trouble in teaching him to ride – and there was no doubt that his was a highly-strung and nervous temperament. He had not the calm which marked the Challoners in time of strain. Then Dick Blake was recklessly generous and loved his cousin; it would be consistent with his character if he were willing to suffer in Bertram's stead. Moreover there were reasons which might have had some effect in inducing Bertram to consent, because Challoner knew the affection his son bore him and that he would shrink from involving him in his disgrace. What Bertram would certainly not have done to secure his own escape he might have done for the sake of his father and the girl he was to marry.

Admitting all this, Challoner could not take his son's guilt for granted. There was room for doubt, and soon after leaving Mrs. Chudleigh he had cabled a friend in Montreal asking him to spare no effort to trace Blake. If the latter could be found, he must be summoned home and forced to declare the truth. By and by Challoner heard a footstep and looking up saw Foster approaching. He stopped and regarded the Colonel with surprise, for it was seldom Challoner was to be seen sitting moodily idle.

"I'm taking a short cut through your grounds to the fir spinney," he said. "As I was leaving home Mrs. Chudleigh asked me to give you this note, and when I looked in at the house Miss Challoner said she didn't know where you were and a telegram had just come in. Thinking I might find you, I brought it along." Handing the other two envelopes he added: "Sorry to see you're not looking as brisk as usual."

"There's not much the matter," Challoner replied, forcing a smile. "Still, I do feel a trifle slack, and I've had something to worry me."

Foster gave him a sympathetic nod. "Worry's bad; make a rule to avoid it when I can. But will you walk as far as the wood?"

He went on when Challoner said he would sooner remain, and the latter eagerly opened the telegram. It was in answer to his cable and read —

"Blake and two others left Sweetwater settlement. Destination supposed far North."

This implied the impossibility of learning anything from his nephew for some time, and Challoner could not recall his son, who was then in Japan and must shortly rejoin his Indian regiment. Besides, if Bertram were blameless, it would be a cruel blow for him to find that his father had suspected him of a shameful deed, while if he were guilty, something must be done. This would probably lead to a disastrous change in their relations and compel Bertram to leave the army. Though the suspense was hard to bear, Challoner, as Mrs. Chudleigh had foreseen, was beginning to feel afraid to learn the truth and inclined to temporize.

Then he opened her note and read —

"As I hear you expect Mr. Greythorpe, shortly, I venture to believe that now you have had time for reflection you will see that it would be better for everybody if you did as I suggested. This would be a great favour and you could count upon my gratitude and discretion."

Studying it carefully, Challoner saw a threat as well as a promise that she would keep his secret if he complied, but he tore the note up and trod the fragments into the soil. So far as the African appointment was concerned, he was not to be influenced. He would not offer a bribe for her silence, nor would he derive a personal advantage from a piece of jobbery. On that point his mind was made up.

A little later Mrs. Keith opened a neighbouring gate and came towards him.

"The fine morning tempted me out, and as Lucy Foster was passing with the car, I thought I'd look your sister up," she said. "But I'm afraid you're in trouble. The last time we met you had a downcast air and you don't look much brighter to-day."

"It's unpleasant to think I'm in the habit of showing my feelings so plainly," he answered.

"You don't, but your moody calm has its meaning. I've known you long enough to recognize it. You can't deny that something is disturbing you."

"No," said Challoner. "I'm not clever enough to hide it from your keen eyes."

"They're very friendly, as you know. I'll strain a friend's privilege far enough to guess that your perplexities began the last time you and Mrs. Chudleigh met."

He wondered how much she knew and longed to confide in her. She was very staunch, but his secret must be kept until he had learned the truth.

"I'm sorry, Margaret, but I can't tell you what is troubling me."

She made a sign of acquiescence. "You would if it were possible and I won't press you, but you know I can be trusted if you need me. I was afraid of that woman; I felt she threatened you."

Their glances met and lingered, and Challoner felt that the reason for his grief was but thinly veiled from her. Still, for his son's sake, he could not confirm her suspicions, and he broke into a dry smile.

"I believe you tried to protect me, and it certainly wasn't your fault that you failed. I appreciate it, Margaret, but after all there may be less cause for anxiety than I imagine, and we'll talk about something else. Will you come up to the house?"

They walked slowly across the lawn, and though his companion chatted about indifferent matters Challoner knew he had her sympathy. When they reached the door she stopped.

"I needn't bring you in, because I have something to ask Hilda. No doubt, it's unnecessary, but you won't mind my warning you not to be influenced by anything that woman said."

"I had already decided to disregard it."

A look of gratified confidence came into her eyes. "That is what I expected; you are not easily swayed, but I see signs of strain. There is some crisis you must face, and I think it is connected with Greythorpe's visit."

"You have guessed correctly."

"When one is in difficulties the easiest way out is not always the best. But you know that."

"I have learned it. One has often to chose between the right and the most prudent thing."

"Ah!" said Mrs. Keith, "I believe they are generally the same in the end; that is, if one has the courage to choose the former."

Challoner bowed. "You have never failed me, Margaret, and you give me good counsel now."

She went in, and he turned away, feeling encouraged; but a reaction followed, and he spent the rest of the day in troubled thought. A day or two later Greythorpe arrived and in the early evening sat with his host in the library. Though dusk was closing in, a window near them stood open and a single shaded candle burned upon a neighbouring table. Presently Greythorpe opened some papers.

"We have not settled the African appointment yet," he said. "The matter, of course, is not altogether in my hands, but my recommendation will have weight, and I should be glad of your opinion before making it. You will find the names and qualifications of the candidates here."

Challoner studied the papers, and then gazed out of the window without speaking. It was not quite dark, and he could see the great oaks in the park, and the sombre masses of the woods rolling back up the valley. In the foreground, a sheet of water shone with a pale gleam. It was a rich and beautiful countryside and much of it belonged to him. Though his wife had brought him money, Sandymere had long been the property of the Challoners, and the old house had a picturesque stateliness, while every field and farmstead had been well cared for.

In process of time it would all be his son's, and, in that sense, Bertram had more than an individual importance. He was one of a line of men who had served their country well in court and field, and any disgrace that fell upon him would taint a respected name and reflect upon his children, for the family honour was indivisible, a thing that stretched backwards to the past as well as forward. Now, however, it was threatened by an unprincipled woman who claimed the power to drag it in the mire; but Challoner recognized that he could not allow this to influence him. His private affairs must not count where the interests of his country were concerned.

"Well," he said at length, "the matter seems difficult to decide. You have two men of excellent character, whom I know something about, and a third who has shown ability in a subordinate post."

"Sedgwick? Your manner leads me to believe that you don't quite class him with the others."

"There is a difference. The first two are honest and reliable but not brilliant men. Sedgwick is obviously more capable than either, but I suspect that self-interest is his strongest motive. I knew a major in his regiment. He might use this appointment to force himself into prominence."

"It's possible, but that needn't prove a great drawback."

"Is the Cabinet ready to embark upon a bold course of Colonial expansion?"

"No," said Greythorpe with a smile, "not so far as I'm acquainted with their views, but we would like the strip of unoccupied territory, and Sedgwick seems alive to its importance."

"He'll probably get it for you if you give him a chance, but I imagine he won't stop there. In fact, he may take you much farther than you wish to go. Suppose he brings off some sensational coup in which you would have to support him at the expense of France?"

"There might be some risk of that, but he's undoubtedly an able man."

"I think so," Challoner agreed. "It's his disinterestedness I suspect."

"Then if the post were at your disposal, you would not offer it to him?"

Challoner was silent for a few moments. It looked as if Greythorpe were disposed to favour Sedgwick's claim and to concur might save a good deal of trouble. Even then, it did not follow that Sedgwick would be chosen, because there were higher authorities to be consulted. Challoner thought he would not be blamed if they refused the man the post, because he did Mrs. Chudleigh the justice to believe that she would not doubt his assurance that he had done his best and that she would afterwards put no further pressure on him. It was her lover's promotion she wished to secure. For all that, easy as it would be to humour her, he had been asked for his opinion by a man who trusted him, and he must give it honestly.

"No," he said with a resolute air, "I should prefer either of the others. On the whole, I believe I'd select the first on your list."

"You seem to have thought it well over."

"That's true. It's a rather grave matter," Challoner answered drily.

"Well," said Greythorpe, "my idea is that Sedgwick should be left in charge a month or two longer. Then if we send out another man, we'll try to find him something else."

He changed the subject and Challoner lighted a cigar and listened, sitting back in the shadow where his companion could not see him. He felt weary, because he had borne a heavy strain during the last few days, and the course he had taken had cost him a good deal. Now he knew that if Sedgwick were not appointed Mrs. Chudleigh would hold him responsible.

CHAPTER XX

MRS. CHUDLEIGH MAKES A FRESH ATTEMPT

Next evening Challoner and Greythorpe dined at Foster's with several other guests, and the Colonel was placed next to Mrs. Chudleigh, while Mrs. Keith sat opposite. He found his position uncomfortable, because when he looked up he saw that his old friend was watching him, and, though she chatted carelessly, there was now and then a hint of tension in his companion's manner. It was a relief when Mrs. Foster rose, but he afterwards felt that opposing influences were being brought to bear on him. When the party dispersed, as was usual at Hazlehurst, some to play billiards and some to the drawing-room, Mrs. Keith engaged him in casual talk and stuck to him determinedly for a time. He had no doubt that her intentions were good, since he noticed Mrs. Chudleigh hovering in the background, but he wished that she would leave him alone. By and by their hostess took Mrs. Keith away, but then Millicent, whom he suspected had been told to do so, came up and spoke to him. It looked as if he were to be saved from his persecutor, even against his will, for he was anxious to meet her and get the unpleasant business over, but he liked Millicent and courtesy demanded that he should listen. Presently she rather hesitatingly mentioned his nephew.

"Have you heard anything from Mr. Blake since he left Montreal?"

"Nothing," said Challoner with a trace of grimness. "He does not correspond with me."

"Then I suppose you don't know where he is?"

"I took some trouble to find out, but nothing came of it. I merely learned that he had left a small settlement on the Western prairie and started for the North." He gave her a sharp glance. "Are you interested in my nephew?"

"Yes," she said frankly. "I don't know him very well, but on two occasions he came to my assistance when I needed it. He was very tactful and considerate."

"Then he's fortunate in gaining your good opinion. No doubt, you know something about his history?"

"I daresay my good opinion is not worth much, but I feel that he deserves it, in spite of what I've been told about him," she answered with a blush. "It is very sad that he should have to give up all he valued, and I thought there was something gallant in his cheerfulness; he was always ready with a jest."

"Have you met his companion? I understand that he is not a man of my nephew's stamp."

Millicent smiled. "Hardly so, from your point of view."

"Does that mean that yours is not the same as mine?"

"I have had to earn my living, which changes one's outlook; perhaps I'd better not say enlarges it. However, you shall judge. Mr. Harding is a traveller for an American paint factory and had to begin work at an age when your nephew was at Eton, but I think him a very fine type. He's serious, courteous, and sanguine, and seems to have a strong confidence in his partner."

"Ah!" said Challoner; "that is not so strange. The Blakes have a way of inspiring trust and liking. It's a gift of theirs."

"Your nephew undoubtedly has it. He uses it unconsciously, but I think that those who trust him are not deceived."

Challoner regarded her with a curious expression. "After all," he said, "that may be true."

Then Greythorpe came up in search of Millicent, and when she went away with him Challoner saw Mrs. Chudleigh approaching. Obeying her sign he followed her to a seat in the recess in the hall.

"Mr. Greythorpe came down yesterday," she said. "I suppose you have already had a talk with him."

"Last night. As you anticipated, he asked my opinion about the African matter. Several names have been submitted; trustworthy men."

"Come to the point," she told him sharply. "What did you do about Captain Sedgwick?"

Challoner gravely met her insistent gaze. "I felt compelled to suggest that he was not the best man for the post."

Mrs. Chudleigh's eyes sparkled and the blood swept into her face. Her pose grew tense and she looked dangerous, but with an obvious effort she controlled her anger.

"Then if I were a revengeful person, I would warn you that you must take the consequences."

"I suppose that follows, but I would prefer to think you are fair enough to make allowances for a man who tried to do the right thing in a difficult situation."

She was silent for a moment, watching him with a curious, half-ashamed feeling. Then she made an abrupt movement.

"It's hard to do so. A word or two, which you would not speak, would have led to the appointment of the most talented man. I'm not a saint; you mustn't expect a higher standard from me than I'm capable of."

She dismissed him with an angry gesture and got up as Mrs. Foster came in with Greythorpe. When the latter left his hostess she beckoned him and led him to a seat near the hearth.

"How far does Colonel Challoner's opinion go with you?" she asked boldly.

"That depends," he answered, smiling. "On some matters it goes a long way."

"On the choosing of a West African officer, for instance?"

"Ah!" said Greythorpe, "now I begin to understand. If I am not indiscreet in mentioning it, I thought my old friend was rather in disgrace with you."

"You are keen," she told him. "I must warn you that Challoner is prejudiced."

"If that is so, there is probably a reason for it."

"There is," she said coolly. "I'm afraid it is my fault. I made a mistake in trying to force the Colonel to speak in favour of one of the candidates."

"It was unwise," Greythorpe agreed. "Our friend is by no means amenable to treatment of the kind."

"Still you would not let a good officer suffer because of my tactlessness?"

"Certainly not; the only thing that could count against any of the men we are considering is some shortcoming of their own."

"Then I must try to remove a wrong impression and my task is difficult because you know Challoner better than I do. We can, however, agree that he is honest."

"Eminently conscientious," Greythorpe remarked.

"Then you must allow for a reaction against the injudicious course I took. I urged him to speak for a friend of mine, which was, no doubt, very wrong, and it seems I went too far. Can you not imagine his resenting it and being so determined not to be influenced that he became hypercritical?"