The response to this came from an unexpected quarter. Of a sudden the man he had left standing at the outer door, under the impression that he was in no way connected with the superintendent, but merely a gentleman who had reached the inn at the same time, came down the passage to the open door, brushed past him into the room, and announced gravely, “Permit me to correct an error, please, Major. The ‘man Cleek’ is not coming later—he is here, and very much at your and Lady Mary Norcross’ service, believe me. I have long known the name of Major Seton Norcross as one which stands high in the racing world—as that, indeed, of the gentleman who owns the finest stud in the kingdom and whose filly, Highland Lassie, is first favourite for the forthcoming Derby—and I now have the honour of meeting the gentleman himself, it seems.”
The effect of this was somewhat disconcerting. For, as he concluded it, he put out his hand and rested it upon Mr. Narkom’s shoulder, whereat Lady Mary half rose from her seat, only to sit down again suddenly and look round at her liege lord with uplifted eyebrows and lips slightly parted. Afterward she declared of the two men standing side by side in that familiar manner: “One reminded me of an actor trying to play the part of a person of distinction, and the other of a person of distinction trying to play the part of an ordinary actor and not quite able to keep what he really was from showing through the veneer of what he was trying to be.”
The major, however, was too blunt to bottle up his sentiments at any time, and being completely bowled over in the present instance put them into bluff, outspoken, characteristic words.
“Oh, gum games!” he blurted out. “If you really are Cleek——”
“I really am. Mr. Narkom will stand sponsor for that.”
“But, good lud, man! Oh, look here, you know, this is all tommyrot! What under God’s heaven has brought a chap like you down to this sort of thing?”
“Opinions differ upon that score, Major,” said Cleek quietly. “So far from being ‘brought down,’ it is my good friend, Mr. Narkom here, who has brought me up to it—and made me his debtor for life.”
“Debtor nothing! Don’t talk rubbish. As if it were possible for a gentleman not to recognize a gentleman!”
“It would not be so easy, I fear, if he were a good actor—and you have just done me the compliment of indirectly telling me that I must be one. It is very nice of you but—may we not let it go at that? I fancy from what I hear that I, too, shall soon be in the position to pay compliments, Major. I hear on every side that Highland Lassie is sure to carry off the Derby—in fact that, unless a miracle occurs, there’ll be no horse ‘in it’ but her.”
Here both the major and his wife grew visibly excited.