Captain in his own ship! The word was a telling one, and it hit him hard. He was only captain in an ornamental sense, because Carbery was his freehold, and the baronetcy his, and he alone could sign receipts and draw cheques. He had loved his ease much; and now it was perpetually invaded. He was sorry for dismissed gamekeepers, and for tenants whose tenure was to expire on Lady-day. He gave them drafts on his banker as a plaster for the smart which he nevertheless felt sure was deserved. An unrespecting City solicitor, and the sharp London Jew whom Mr Wilkins had inducted into the stewardship, were swelling the rent-roll in despite of the feeble protests of the nominal lord of all.
‘I can’t compel Captain Denzil to take a wife of my choosing; that is beyond the power of a modern English father, at least where sons are concerned,’ said Sir Sykes with a sickly smile.
‘No; you can’t do that, skipper. To knot the ninetailed cat and give the young fellow six dozen for mutiny,’ said Hold, chuckling over the imaginary scene, ‘would be too strict discipline for mealy-mouthed days like these. But you might let him have it, Sir Sykes, though not quite so downright. Make him understand that his allowances and his liberty all depend on good behaviour, and then see what comes of it.’
What Sir Sykes suffered during the delivery of this speech, could only be inferred from the fact that his lips became of a bluish white and that he drew his breath gaspingly.
‘Believe me, Mr Hold,’ he said in a thin broken voice, which gained strength somewhat as he proceeded, ‘you may intrust the care of carrying out your wishes—that is, our wishes—to me. I understand my son best, and I’——
He stopped again, gasping for breath, and the lines about his mouth, traced by pain, were visible enough to attract the notice of his unscrupulous guest.
‘You shall have time, Sir Sykes Denzil, Baronet,’ he said apologetically; ‘take a fortnight if you like. I’m to be heard of meanwhile at old Plugger’s;’ and he threw the card of that establishment on the table.
Then Sir Sykes rang the bell for wine, and the wine was brought. Hold tossed off a bumper of sherry.
‘Your health, skipper,’ he said; ‘and success to the wedding.’ And so, with an impudent leer, he picked up his tall shining hat and departed.