A DEBT OF HONOUR.

Press, Volume LIII, Issue 9520, 12 September 1896, Page 2

A DEBT OF HONOUR.

' Queer Story from Truth. "Who is the young follow with the yellow hair, Dull'?" whispered Captain Loraine, as he and his friend stood on the outer edge of the small circle gathered round a couple of .cart. players at the Nebulus Club. •• Archie Lidvard "

" Never heard of him ; he's got the cardfever pretty strongly, eh?" he added, as they moved away to the other end of the room. . .. .

'•'Young fool?" ejaculated Duff, as he flung himself into a seat and ordered his whisky and soda, " he's just going the pace as fast as he can. I've known him since he was so high, all. legs and Eton collar ! His mother is a charming woman, but a great deal too weak to deal with a fellow like that." J ' ..,-"•

"Ah!" remarked Loraine, without any great interest, " and who's the man he's playing with ?" . ' "A friend of Val■ Travers ; a colonial, I fancy, Mr James Ruthven by name. Why will youngsters like Lidyard always choose such opponents'?'" " You don't think "

"Oh no!" interposed Duff, hastily. "Everything is all square, I've no doubt, only Archie Lidyard's about as fit to hold a card against a cool-headed, experienced man, as lam to discuss the Apocalypse with the Archbishop of Canterbury. I say, waiter, can't that window be made to shut behind there ?" he remarked, testily, to the man who set his glass down beside him. " There's a most abominable draught."

" Yes sir. I'll see, sir," replied the waiter quickly, as he jumped on to the window sill behind the couch o» which the two friends sat, and b?gan to tussle with the window.

"Is this young friend of yours rich?" asked Loraine, noticing that his companion was still watching the party at tho cardtable. .

" Archie Lidyard ? I'm not sure that 1 should call him a friend of mine. I like his mother, but I've small patience with the young jackanapes. Rich ? No, not at present, at any rate; the father was a big ironmaster who mads a colossal fortune, and, unluckily .for young Hopeful over there, died half a dozsn years ago ; the man was tolerably clear-sighted, though, and left the bulk of his money to his wife, stipulating that Archie's minority should not terminate till he reached his twentyfifth year, and that, until that time, his allowance should not exceed a certain figure. He has to get through a couple of years before he .attains his majority, and, in consequence, poor Mrs Lidyard lives in a chronic state of pulling her son out of the mire, payinrr his debts, and sending him on his way to sin no more ! It's terribly hard on the poor woman. He's an only child, and, of course, there's nothing she wouldn't do for him."

" Very sad. But, I say, Duff," broke off Captain Loraine, "it does seem to mc that the Nebulus Club is about the coldest place in London."

As he spoke, went up with a sharp bang, and the waiter leapt down from behind them.

"You won't feel anything more of the draught now, I think, sir," he said, addressing Duff. "Oh, is it shut now? You were a precious long time about it." Some one near the card-table called to the waiter, and he hurried there; at the same moment Archie Lidyard rose.

" No. I won't take my revenge, to-night," he said, with an attempt at a laugh; "what's the amount of my debt, Mr Ruthven ?"

"Let mc see, five hundred—ye 3, five hundred and fifty pounds. But there's no hurry if you haven't your cheque-book with you. You can send it round to my hotel any time to-morrow. .I don't leave for Paris till the night mail." "Thank you," said young Lidyard. "I'd sworn off cards or I should have had it with mc. You are putting up at the Savoy. I think ?'

"Yes, No. 49," replied Ruthven. "You may as well come and lunch with mc ?"

"I will if I possibly can," said young Lidyard; "but if not, I'll send a cheque round. Stay, though," he exclaimed, suddenly, " I can discharge a portion of my debt at once." The flush deepened on his cheeks as he fumbled in his pocket-book and .drew out a cheque ; he glanced at it, and his hand shook a little as he held it towards Ruthven. "That is for three hundred," he explained; "you shall have the rest to-morrow."

Ruthven in his turn glanced at the cheque. " To Eva Lidyard 1" he read, half aloud, in a tone of some surprise.

" My mother," replied young Lidyard, a little sharply. "I think youwill find the endorsement- all right. I will give you an I OU for the balance."

He was about-to call for the waiter, when the man, who had been standing at his side throughout the transaction, handed him the writing materials.

Archie Lidyard wrote the acknowledgment, spoke a few words to those round him, aud then left the room; it was evident,

in spite of the Voting mans efforts at cslmness and unconcern, that the loss was a serious ono and the evenings work no laughing matter. But Jamas Ruthven was naturally in a more cheerful mood. He was not a poor man, but he was far enough from being a millionaire to feel no slight satisfaction a. the respc-itablc sum of his winmnsrs Five hundred and fifty-five pounds was a total worthy, of consideration, and it must be confessed" that he looked at the slip of paper bearing the pretty signature of " _v_ Lidyard" on the back with a certain amount of complacency before retiring to rest. He was aroused next morning by a loud knocking at his door. "Eh? Come in—what's the matter; what do you want?" he inquired, starting up. " A lady to see you, sir." " What 1" Ruthven admitted the servant, glancing at his watch os be passed ; it was just halfpast nine; who could wish to see him so soon. •' A lady to see mc, did you say ? " " Yes, sir." *• What sort of a lady ? " inquired Ruthven, dubiously. "I can't rightly. say, sir; she's gol a thick veil on, and she's all in black." " Did she give you no card ? " " No, sir." " Most extraordinary; '40 down and ask her if she can tell yon her business." In a few minutes he returned. " It's a Mrs Lidyard, sir, and she says her business is very private." " Mrs Lidvard '" Like a flash the pretty signature at "the back of the cheque- came back to him. " Ask her into the sittingroom," he said, quickly. "Say I will be with her directly." Ke dressed hurriedly; what could she want with him ? " You wish to see mc, madam ?" he asked, as five minutes later he closed the door of his private sitting-room behind him. A' tall, black-robed figure advanced to him. " You are very good to come to mc," she said, in a broken voice. Ruthven glanced at her quickly; she looked xjavticul-vly graceful and elegant in her sable draperies, and the voice was soft and pleasant, in spite of the evident distress and nervousness of the speaker. " Pray sit down," said Ruthven, drawing forward' a chair - but Mrs Lidyard sank down in one nearer her, her back to the

light. " Will you tell mc what I can do for you ?" asked Ruthven, gently. The small, black-gloved hands twisted a handkerchief desperately. Mrs Lidyard made one or two ineffectual attempts to snual-, and at List said, *" " You won a large sum last night from my son at cards, Mr Ruthven ':" "A considerable sum—yes." " And he—he gave you a cheque for it ?" " For part of it, certainly." Mrs Lidyard uttered a groan. Ruth, en's astonishment grew. What did it all mean ? With what was evidently a great effort his visitor continued— " A cheque drawn in my favour, purporting to be endorsed by mc ?" "Yes."

" I—he—oh !" she broke down sobbing, " the wretched, wretched boy !"

The veil she wore Mas thick, but not so thick as to disguise her, and Ruthven could see that Mrs Lidyard was still possessed of very great charms, and the glimpse he caught of snowy hair only made the rest of her face appear more youthful. Grief, under such circumstances, cannot fail to be touching.

"Pray calm yourself, Mrs Lidyard," he said soothingly. "You have not yet told mc how I can'serve you." . Mrs Lidyard suppressed her agitation and continued :

" I must tell you everything ; I can do nothing but throw myself upon your mercy. Yesterday, on going through my accounts, I missed a cheque that had been !-_nt mc only the day before. I searched everywhere for it, nnd not finding it, I finally telegraphed to the bunker., stopping payment. 1 did not at first suspect that " she hesitated. "lam very unfortunately placed. My son has extravagant tastes, and an income quite insufficient to indulge them." She looked at Ruthven piteously.

" I think. I understand," he said, gravely. yi waited tor my son, spoke to him-of what I dreaded, implored him to tell mc all! And—oh, Mr Ruthven, have pity on him and on mc, and give mc back that wretched cheque." Ruthven rose immediately, and a second later returned.

"You can count on my discretion," he said, pityingly, as he placed-the cheque in her hand.

'•'Oh ! how can I thank you?—how can I ever thank you ?" she exclaimed, almost hysterically. Then, seeing a small writingtable, she satidown hurriedly.

" May I write you a cheque here-; —" He smiled, and she drew a cheque book from the bag she caj-rjed. " Mr James Ruthven, is it not ? " She began to write, and then turned to him quickly. "But £300 is not the whole amount. Will you tell it mc?"

Ruthven replied shortly, "Five hundred and fifty pounds." It was one thing winning money at tho Nebulus from Archie Lidyard, a bit of coxcomb and a great deal of a fool, quite another thing taking it here in the cool morning light from his mother, still quivering from the anguish she had undergone. " Here it is," she said, rising. " You see the endorsement was not even a clever forgery," she added, with a little sob.

Ruthven glanced at it; there was a certain similarity in the signatures, no doubt, but the one he had seen last night was firmer, with a touch of masculinity, wanting in this. No, as she said, it was not eveu a clever forgery. "I don'b think you know what you have done for mc, Mr Ruthven." she said, offering him her hand. "No, please"—she continued, as he made a movement to accompany her—" I would rather go alone ; thank you again, and God bless you I"

James Ruthven was not a sentimental m>vn, but he was rather pleased with Mrs Lidyard's parting words, though it was perfectly clear to him that he had done little to deserve it, for, after all, it was a clear gain to him to exchange a worthless bit of paper for a cheque for £650.

His complacency remained undisturbed for at least two hours. ; He breakfasted well, and read his paper with absolute serenity. Then he took a cab to the St. James's-square branch of the Westminster Bank.

The cashier took the slip of paper, and after looking at the signature, honoured Ruthven with a keen glance before disappearing.

" Will you step this way ?"

Ruthven looked up astonished, but obeyed, conscious that the clerks were watching him curiously as he was ushered into the manager's sanctum.

"I shall be glad if yOu will explain how this cheque came into your possession," said the manager, as Ruthven came into the room, while the cashier stood with his hand on the door.

"I really don't understand " began Ruthven. .

"No one," replied the manager, " of the name of Eva Lidyard has an account with this bank ?"

"No account 1" exclaimed Ruthven. "No account! Why, she wrote this cheque for mc not two hours ago."

There was a smile about the manager's eyes as he renewed his request for an explanation of the circumstances by which the cheque had come into Ruthven's possession, and as he unfolded the story of the whitehaired, tearful mother imploring his mercy for her wretched son, it deepened there.

"I think it's a matter for the police, Simpkins," he said to the cashier, and turning to Ruthven, he remarked, "I expect the cheque you parted with has been cashed by now. Do you remember the name and the bank upon which it' was drawn 1 "

Rnlhven's memory was not at fault, and driving thither he found that the manager had guessed coirectly. The cheque he had parted with had been presented a couple of hours previously and paid.

Thus it happened that an hour later Ruthven v. as returning to the Savoy, though in a very different frame of mind from that in which he left it. In fact, he was in a very black humour indeed a. he entered his sitting-room, where, to complete his perplexity, Archie Lidyaid was seated, with his heels on the mantel and a serene smile ou his.lips.

"Halloo." said Lidyard, "I've accepted

your lunch, but if I'd known I should have had to wait so long for it, I'm d dif I would not have gone elsewhere." Ruthven was too excited to take any notice of the remark. He strode up to the young man aud looked at him savagely. " Where's-yom* mother ?' he demanded. It was Lidyard's turn to look astonished. *• Where's—my—mother. «' Why fit sud - denly occurred to him that his host hail gone mad, and he grasped a chair as the only weapon of defence handy. Uulhven saw tho look of fear in Lidyard's face. " I beg your pardon, Lidyard, a most extraordinary 'thing has happened. Your mother called on mc this morning "

*' My mother is in Wales," said Lidyard,

quietly. " Then I've been swindled as neatly as ever man was," declared Ruthven. '■ There's only oue thing to do." ** Luuch," remarked Lidyard; sententiouslv. * When lunch was finished Ruthven had recovered some portion of his serenity. " Nevertheless," he said, as he leaucd back in his chair, "I think we'll try Scotland Yard."

And while Scotland Yard busied itself dtsetissinf* the problem thus presented, a couple of passengers to Nice were comfortably seated in a reserved carriage of the night express. "Not a bad morning's work, eh?" remarked one of them to his pretty goldenhaired companion.

The girl laughed. "If you don't break the bank at Monte Carlo, Bob, I think I shall go on tiie stage aud play old ladies ; that white wig was awtully becoming." " You managed it beautifully, Nell. There's no knowing what we mayn't be able to do, with my wits and your looks ; but any wa}*, tbis is better than shutting windows for crusty gents at the Nebulus, isn't it * " he added, slipping his arm round her waist.