“Take them back to the stables and let’s have a go at billiards for an hour or two before tea,” said Cleek, turning as Essington walked away, and looking after him with narrowed eyes and lips indrawn. When man and birds were out of sight, however, he made a sharp and sudden sound, and almost in a twinkling his “Indian servant” slipped into sight from behind a nearby hedge.
“Get round there and examine those birds after he’s left them,” said Cleek, in a swift whisper. “There’s one—a magpie—with something smeared on its beak. Find out what it is and bring me a sample. Look sharp!”
“Right you are, sir,” answered in excellent Cockney the undersized person addressed. “I’ll spread one of me famous ‘Tickle Tootsies’ and nip in and ketch the bloomin’ ’awk as soon as the josser’s back is turned, guv’ner. I’m off, as the squib said to the match when it started blowin’ of him up.” Then the face disappeared again, and the child and the two men were again alone together.
“Good God, man!” exclaimed the Honourable Felix in a lowered voice of strong excitement. “You can’t possibly believe that he—that dear, lovable boy——Oh, it is beyond belief!”
“Nothing is ‘beyond belief’ in my line, my friend. Recollect that even Lucifer was an angel once. I know the means employed to bring about this”—touching softly the three red spots on his little lordship’s neck—“but I have yet to decide how the thing is administered and by whom. Frankly I do not believe it is done with a bird’s beak—though that, too, is possible, wild as it seems—but by this time to-morrow I promise you the riddle shall be solved. Sh-h! Don’t speak—he’s coming back. Take the boy into your own room to-night, but leave the door unfastened. I’m coming down to watch by him with you. Let him first be put into the regular nursery, however, then take him out without the knowledge of any living soul—of any, you hear?—and I will be with you before midnight.”
That night two curious things happened: The first was that at a quarter to seven, when Martha, the nursemaid, coming up into the nursery to put his little lordship to bed, found Lieutenant Deland—who was supposed to be dressing for dinner at the time—standing in the middle of the room looking all about the place.
“Don’t be startled, Nurse,” he said, as he looked round and saw her. “Your master has asked me to design a new decoration for this room, and I’m having a peep about in quest of inspiration. Ah, Strathmere, ‘Dustman’s time,’ I see. Pleasant dreams to you, old chap. See you in the morning when you’re awake.”
“Say good night to the gentleman, your lordship,” said the nurse, laying both hands on his shoulders and leading him forward, whereupon he began to whine sleepily: “Want Sambo! Want Sambo!” and to rub his fists into his eyes.
“Yes, dearie, Nanny’ll get Sambo for your lordship after your lordship has said good night to the gentleman,” soothed the nurse; and held him gently until he had done so.