The Councillors of Falconhoe

Auckland Star, Volume LIV, Issue 73, 26 March 1923, Page 12

The Councillors of Falconhoe

By FRED M. WHITE.

CHAPTER HI. FAIRBOURNK CASTLE. In a fold of the hills not far from Plymouth, and overlooking the famous Sound, stood the main scat of his iiraw thp Puke of Fairbourne. There the race had been cradled since the days of War wick the Kingmaker, and there they might have flourished prosperous and un disturbed for many more centuries had it not been for the ambition of a monarch who mistook his vocation and realised too late that every man who rules a great kingdom and has a weak. ness for playing at soldiers is not neces sarily a Napoleon.

All the same, he had a sort of lefthanded revenge upon the titular ruler* of the country which he hated most, am" which brought his pride tumbling in the dust. The of thp Creat War hit them almost as much a* they had bankrupted his beloved junkers, and nobody had felt it more than the Duke of Fairbourne.

It is. of course, a very pleasant and soothing thing to have an income of £100,000 a year and half-a-dozen palaces in various parts of the country, but when the aforesaid income is reduced to about a third by a crushing income tax, plus land burdens in a like proportion, then the palaces may become a source of loss and anxiety instead of a thing of pride and joy. And no member of the House of Peers had suffered more in this respect than the duke in question.

For the moment, at any rate, ho was making the most of his time at Kairbourne Castle. He had had a series of interviews with his trustees, and Lady Peggy had not been very far wrong when she told Jelicorse that her father had not more than live thousand a year to call his own. Some of the other houses had been let, and no doubt, before long, the same fate would overtake Kairbourne. It was impossible, of course, to deal with any of the magnilicent family treasures, because those were heirlooms, and could not be disposed of. Perhaps in the course of time things would right themselves, 'but for a good many years to come the head of the noble clan would be hard put to it to keep his head above water. Unless his only son. who. however does not come into the story, married a rich American or the daughter of some gilt-edged profiteecr. he would be likely to share the general blight. And when Lady Peggy informed Jelicorse that she and her sister Joan were faced with the necessity for getting their own livings, she had not been very far from the truth.

Meanwhile, Fairbourne lay sleeping in the sunshine, a long, low, rambling partly of mediaeval structure and partly Georgia.., fronted by a noble stone terrace and below that W gardens, and then again the sweeping expanse of park almost overlooking the sea. The sort of place that required an army of retainers, gardeners and the like, to preserve it in anything like dignity, or even ordinary neatness. There wns nothing about it, at any rate at present to suggest the tanker that was eating into the" bud of this beautiful flower.

A couple of deck chairs at the bottom of the steps leading to the rose garden were occupied by Lady Peggy and Lady Joan, who were more or less busy discussing their future prospects. "There certainly had been something alluring in the possibilities of the scheme which .lelicrose had foreshadowed in the course of the meeting in the dining room of the Agineourt. He had only hinted very vaguely at what might happen, but he had certainly suggested secrccv and danger, and to two girls who had seen and endured so much during the Great War this had been almost entrancing.

"Oh, anything is better than a life like this," Lady Peggy was saying. "Of course, if it hadn't been for that wretched war I shouid have geen only too glad to get back to the old order. And what a jrim joke it all is. Fancy meeting Kiel Kelson with his family and record getting a bare living as a waiter in a restaurant. And yet that is better than hanging about borrowing money of your friends. My dear Joan, what are we going to do about that unfortunate young man of yourB?" "I don't know," Lady Joan sighed. '*Oh, you can laugh if you like, but there isn't much comedy about it. So far as I am concerned there never was anybody like Kiel."

"Oh, we all say that. But what became of all his mother's money? Of course, he told us that he had had to let his own place to save it from being Bold, but she was a rich woman. I know she wasn't a royal Russian princess, but she was a princess, and her jewels were magnificent. Wasn't she in Russia at the time the revolution broke out?"

"I never liked to ask," Lady Joan said undly. "Indeed, there wasn't" anybody 1 could ask. We don't discuss these sort of questions. How many of our Russian friends perished miserably in those dreadful days, or have disappeared, never to he heard of again ? The tragedy of the Czar and his family was not the only one. If Kiel's mother could have got away in time and brought all her treasures with her there would be no occasion for poor dear Kiel to be getting his living by accepting tips in a London restaurant. T dare say it will come right in time, but I very much doubt it. We shall have to look to you to restore the family glories. I suppose when it comes to the pinch you really will marry the Duke of Lombaso."

Lady Peggy shrugged her shoulders indifferently.

' I suppose I shall," she said. "He is quite a nice boy, and the fact that he was educated at Eton and Christchurch makes all the difference. He is a thorough sportsman, Joan, and, if it is worth mentioning, his mother is a Spanish royal princess. They are immensely rir-h, of course, and, oh dear, it's all very distressing. If one could only forget " "Ah, you are thinking of Tony Vickers now," Lady Joan said with "a certain boyish sympathy. "Poor old Tony, I often wonder what became of him. ' It was very strange how he vanished that wav Just he and a handful of men eomine back from a successful raid across No Man's I-and. and never to be seen or heard of ?ti i'"' .£? • C ,° Urße ' X know !t '8 a horTnnlT dW « de *r b «* the last time I saw Tony ahve he told mc that he had made hV'd ed " Vmg * Verythin S t° you in case

"Oh. don't talk about it," Lady murmured. • cSy

"But. my dear. I mUB t. 7 have had it that lm to?' - years " r , What hec "»« °* that will .' Of course, I kn ow that thing went back to his mot her aeai'n poor dear soul, and I shouldn't wonder if she makes you her heiress. y know it i? very horribl.-. hut one has to think of

1 -_.«.uv _ «'jiK_l cose aurupt ly anu waiKeu in the direction of the house. Lady Joan had touched a tender chord. It, | was not often that the name of Tony Yie-1 kers was littered between the sisters' I after this lapse of time, and .loan was! bitterly regretting that she had nienioned it. But the Duke of Lombaso vas expected at the Castle that after- j loon, and though the subject had novcr | ■ecu mentioned between Fairbourne anil !iis family, it was tacitly expected that something would come of this visit. Indeed, it. was a prospect that most rirls in Lady Peggy's position would have reached eagerly for with both hands. And yet, just then, she wanted to lie alone with the memory of her lead soldier. | It was later in the afternoon that a Mg car drove up to the main entrance if the Castle, and a young man •lighted. Except for his dark eyes and Mack hair, he might have been the 'vpical English aristocrat who lives the clean open-air life and devotes himself entirely to sport. He came forward ■agerly with outstretched hand as his host advanced to greet him. "Ah, here we are," he cried in perfect English. "I have managed to get away from London at last, you see. So I hastened down here to pay my respects to you all, and give you my mother's kindest regards. She was very particular about that.*' | "Ah, she would be." Fairbourne said, j "Bless my soul, it must be four years j •since I saw her last." | There was nothing of the conventional • duke about the head of the house of Pevensey. He might have been a pros- | perous farmer in his shabby sports suit and brown gaiter:., a rather stout, rosy- • cheeked man with old-fashioned sidewhiskers, and hair which was beginning to go grey over the temples. "But come in. come in," he said. "You are just in time for tea. Had a good journey, I hope." "Oh, I came down in my car," Lombaso said. "And I had company as far as Saltash. Count Andra Barrados was with mc. He said he had some sort | of business there, so I gave him a lift 1 from town. 1 wonder if you would | mind asking him to come over here and dine and sleep. He has done one or two little things for mc lately and J feel rather under an obligation." i "Oh, certainly, if you wish it," Fair- I bourne said. "But I have met the man ' before, and I cannot say that I like him. Of course, you don't know it, but Barrados was one of that gang of Herman junkers who infested places like Saltash and Plymouth and disappeared ' a few days before war broke out. Still, ' T, suppose we mustn't keep that spirit for ever, and if you like to ask Barrados over here for a night. I have no objection. He won't, mind coming at your invitation without getting a line from mc."

And so it came atiout three days later that Count Andra Barrados found himself for the first time for nearly eight years under the roof o* an English gentleman again. There was nothing particularly attractive about the man with the hard, rather brutal face and insolent moustache, brushed up after the fashion affected by his late master, but he went out of his way to make himself agreeable, so that Fairbourne was satisfied. Not that he liked the man. not that anybody would have liked the man who had any knowledge of the world, which apparently the young Duke of Lombaso lacked. At any rate, the dinner passed off pleasantly enough without any illusions to the past, or any conversation which might become controversial.

"You used to spend n lot of time in England, Count?" Fairbourne said when the coffee had gone. "Ts it your intention to stay long? Would you like to settle down here altogether? England is no Paradise at present, !>ut on the whole, about the best country in Europe to live in in these times. We are normal, at any rate."

"Are you quite sure of that?" asked the Count with a faint suggestion of a sneer. "Is England quite the wellordered nation your Press pretends it

The Duke flushed slightly: as the typical Englishman of the upper class, he resented criticism of this kind. "Quite sure," he said shortly. "Of course we have had our anxious times, especially with the working classes. These enormous war wages, you know. But that is all passing away. We are setting an excellent example to Europe, which must he followed by the other nations—even Rusia is beginning to see the light. And now that war is a thing of the past "

Count Barrados smiled rather evilly, and passed his hand across his moustache to hide the bitter lines that trembled about the corners of his mouth.

"Are you quite sure of that?" he asked. "What do you know about Russia? What does anybody know about Russia? Oh yes, I am aware that your people have penetrated as far as Moscow and Petrograd, and of course those kind gentlemen who are feeding the starving children there have gone even farther. But Russia, as a whole, is as much a sealed hook to civilisation under Lenin and Trotsky as is the city of Mecca to the Christian world. For all you know to the contrary, those, people may have a couple of million | men ready to spring at the throat of. Europe at any moment. Why, the Red' Army does consist of two millions ofj men, and Trotsky makes no secret of the fact. Let us suppose he has got two; millions more hidden away, trained men*' mind you, all of whom took some part in the Great War, and behind them are scores of secret munition factories working night and day. Say Trotsky gives the signal, tell mc where you are then." "But the thing is a nightmare." the Duke protested. "All Europe would rise like one man. we should mobilise our Fleet and a blockade would do the rest. Don't forget, my dear Count, that your own Country is in terror lest the Bolsheviks should break out afresh and infect the whole of Germany with the disease which is eating out the heart of Russia. Your present rulers have said so." I "Ah, rulers indeed." Barrados said : with a bitter sneer. "The sweepings of , the country. Idle scum calling itself Socialist. Ah, I tell you the time will come " * | He broke off abruptly, shaking from head to foot with a rage that held him in a fierce grip. He would have seemed to have said much more, but he checked, himself and proceeded more slowly. j

I beg your pardon." he said. ""But' when I think of what is and what was j I cannot contain myself. But mark you this. n„kc. there is very little difference' """"-' "" :- •- •--. -f r—, „r

and the scoundrels who have Russia by the throat. Suppose they make common accord? Suppose there is a treaty signed between Germany and Russia?! In ten years' time we shall put Russia on her "legs again, we shall dominate lhat country, yes, and practically rule her. It will mean the richest population in the w-orld. and two hundred millions of people thinking as one. Then, supposing that our class grasp the reins of office once again. Ah, my dear Duke, there is more than one way of taking , what the French used to call la revanche. ! Who could stand up against us?" ,! "It's a dream," the Duke said. : "Very likely." Barrados sneered. "But such dreams very often come true. What do you think, Lombaso?" "Oh. don't drag mc into Tt." the I young Spaniard laughed. "You see, T am supposed to he a neutral, though 1 could tell you a story or two if I liked. At any rate. I sincerely hope not. It would mean the end of civilisation. It would mean the disappearance of our class entirely. I want to forget all that sort of thing—l came over here because I I love the English, and because I am a sportsman above everything." '"That is all very well," Barrados replied. "But you can't stop war. My dear Lombaso, your ancestors and mine.l and the Duke's here, lived on war. It I was our recognised profession. We could not join the peasants in their archery and bear-baiting, but we could fight, and. incidentally, made what you call a jolly good thing out of it. It's in our blood. 1 tell you, hereditary instinct, and, despite the lesson of the last eight years, »-. shall be at it at intervals so long as the world lasts. You are ta!k-| ing absolute nonsense when you tell mc that there wil be no more w : ars. We may have another in the next live ! years." | "Hoping it perhaps," Fairbourne Hull" j out curtly. " I Barrados looked at him with a sinister smile. Before he could reply- a footman entered with a card. !si " M lr ", Je ' ic ° rsc to s <* .you. your grace Shall I ask him in?" i "% all means," Fairbourne said. '■]„ '■ere, Waters. And you might bring a wine-glass or two as well." (To be continued daily.)