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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES

 
 A FALSE START.
 
 A FALSE START 
 
 a Routt. 
 
 BV 
 
 HAWLEY SMART, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "BREEZIE I.ANT.TOX," "PROM POST TO FINISH.' 
 "THE GREAT TONTINE," ETC, ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 LONDON: CHAPMAN and HAL L 
 
 Li MITE D 
 
 1887.
 
 WESTMINSTER : 
 
 PRINTED BY NICHOLS AND SONS, 
 
 L'."., PARLIAMENT STREET.
 
 X 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. page 
 
 THE CHESTERFIELDS . .... 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 EDITH MOLECOMBE ....... 21 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ■' WHAT A BORE I'VE BEEN ! " . . . . .39 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 BITTEX OK THE TARANTULA . ..... f).S 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE WIRE FROM GOODWOOD ..... 77 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 JOHN MADIXGLEY ....... 95 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AT THE ''BRISTOL'" RESTAURANT . . . . .112 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MR. MOl E( OMBE GETS UNEASY ..... 131 
 
 I I1APTER IX. 
 
 THE GAME ABOUT UP . . . . . . 15(J 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 FAMILY JAB8 , . . . 168 
 
 552701
 
 vi CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 NOTICE TO guiT ........ 185 
 
 CHATTER XII. 
 
 II K K HEABT FAILE1> HEB ...... 2<>4 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 "the dotted dog" ....... 223 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 BETTEB 1 SHOULD RETIRE NOW ..... 241
 
 ERRATA.— VOL. II. 
 
 Page 17, line 15, for "sherry and bitters or brandy- 
 sodas " read " sherries and bitters or brandies 
 and sodas." 
 
 Page 251, line 10, for "loss of husband" read "loss 
 of her husband."
 
 A FALSE STAET. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE CHESTERFIELDS. 
 
 But Maurice, though he might admit to his 
 wife that he was in some way morally guilty 
 of the charge preferred against him, was 
 very indignant that Mesdames Maddox and 
 Praun should have had the presumption to 
 come down and lecture Bessie on the subject. 
 He had quite made up his mind to submit 
 to no comment on his conduct from any- 
 body in Tunnleton but the Reverend Jacob 
 Jarrow. If the rumour, as it infallibly 
 
 TOL. II. B
 
 2 A FALSE START. 
 
 would, readied the ears of the rector, and 
 that gentleman deemed fit to speak to him 
 on the subject, well, he would acknowledge 
 that he had transgressed in some shape 
 though able to give an emphatic denial 
 to the direct charge. As for- Bessie being 
 preached to on the subject that he would 
 allow from nobody breathing. 
 
 He avoided the club all the next day, and 
 contented himself with such news as he could 
 extract from the paper he took in. That 
 morning brought a visit from Mr. Rumford, 
 avIio, though quite respectful, was very 
 earnest in his request for something on ac- 
 count, and retired evidently but half-satisfied 
 with the promise that his account should be 
 settled in the course of the month. 
 
 The next day was Thursday, and, as 
 Maurice knew well, the Chesterfield Stakes 
 at Newmarket were decided that afternoon, 
 lie determined not to go to the club, he
 
 THE CHESTERFIELDS. 6 
 
 would wait patiently and learn his fate from 
 
 his own paper the next morning. That 
 
 afternoon he recognised what the excitement 
 
 of wagering on races was, and how it was 
 
 growing upon him, as dram-drinking or 
 
 opium-eating might do, although he was 
 
 innocent of actual betting. He went about 
 
 his daily work as usual and did it, but in 
 
 preoccupied fashion, for his mind was all the 
 
 time dwelling on that sunshiny meeting at 
 
 the back of the " Ditch," and wondering 
 
 what had been the result of the struggle for 
 
 the " Chesterfields." 
 
 "It's terrible ! " he muttered at last. " Do 
 
 what I will I cannot throw this thing upon 
 
 one side ; we may restrain our passions, but 
 
 we cannot control our thoughts. 1 wish 
 
 Bessie's uncle had given her some other 
 
 wedding present. I do believe — I do 
 
 believe it will end in making the Church an 
 
 impossible profession for me. I am getting 
 
 b 2
 
 4 A FALSIi START. 
 
 so infatuated with it, that I could quite 
 fancy my being so carried away as to resign 
 my curacy, and actually take to attending 
 race meetings. I know — no one better — 
 that it means nothing but ruin to a poor 
 man ! that scores every year perish under 
 the wheels of the Turf Juggurnauth. Absurd! 
 I must shake it off." 
 
 He struck across the common, turned 
 down one of the innumerable country lanes 
 all fragrant with the scent of the hay and 
 the summer flowers, and stretched manfully 
 away for a couple of miles or so ; but it was 
 of no use. All the way a fiend seemed 
 whispering in his ear " What has won the 
 ' Chesterfields ? ' " He turned his face 
 homewards, and still, as if keeping time 
 -with his footsteps, came the whispered — 
 " What — has — won — the — ' Chesterfields' r" 
 All across the common it was the same things 
 He had determined not to go into the club,
 
 THE CHESTERFIELDS. 5 
 
 but at last he told himself that it would be 
 better to know, than to have this irritating 
 question ringing continuously in his ears. 
 He broke his resolution turned into the 
 club, and was a little disconcerted at finding 
 the sporting coterie gathered together in the 
 hall. He passed rapidly through them with- 
 out glancing at the telegram board, and made 
 his way to the morning-room. There he 
 sat down, and affected to read the papers. 
 He had made up his mind what to do now. 
 He would wait there for a bit. It was get- 
 ting on towards six ; a little later and the 
 group in the hall would have doubtless dis- 
 persed, and he would then be able to look at 
 the telegram board unnoticed. 
 
 For half-an-hour he fidgeted with the 
 papers, and then taking his hat he left the 
 room. As he had expected, the hall was now 
 clear. No one was there to see him walk
 
 G A FALSE START. 
 
 quickly up to the board. His heart gave a 
 great jump as he gazed at the tissue. 
 Wandering Nun . . 1 
 
 Bajazet 2 
 
 Rocket 3 
 
 Won in a canter. 
 He rushed out of the club and hurried 
 towards home. What did this mean to him? 
 He hardly dared to think. John Madingley 
 had distinctly said that Bessie was to go 
 halves in all that accrued from the Wander- 
 ing Nun's racing career. He knew that the 
 " Chesterfields " was a good stake — did that 
 mean that Bessie was entitled to half of it ? 
 If so this probably meant some three or four 
 hundreds. What a windfall it would be for 
 them in their present circumstances ; it 
 would obviate the touching of that money 
 which he had settled on Bessie ; he would be 
 able to pay off his tradespeople, and to give 
 Badger something considerable on account.
 
 THE CIIESTEEFIELDS. 7 
 
 " How late you are, Maurice ! " exclaimed 
 Bessie as he entered the drawing-room ; 
 " what can have kept you ? " 
 
 "Well," he replied, "I felt I wanted a 
 good long walk, so I went for a stretch out 
 Blythfield way, and as I came back just 
 looked in at the club ; that remarkable filly 
 of your uncle's, in which you are supposed 
 to have a vested interest, has won a big 
 race at Newmarket ; whether that means 
 anything to you or not, of course I do not 
 know." 
 
 "I am sure I don't," replied Bessie; "but 
 I should think probably it means a present 
 of some sort ; Uncle John is a man who 
 doesn't talk at random, but always means 
 what he says. But I wish, Maurice, 
 you were not so interested in racing." 
 
 lt I'm going to drop it from this out,' 
 replied Maurice, ' ' but I could not help a 
 feverish anxiety to see if lt The Wandering
 
 8 A FALSE START. 
 
 Nun '' won to-day at Newmarket. AVell, 
 she has, and now I will shut my eyes to 
 her further proceedings." 
 
 As might have been expected, the mal- 
 practices of his curate were speedily re- 
 ported to Mr. Jarrow. To do that gentleman 
 justice he manifested considerable in- 
 credulity. 
 
 li It may be as you say, General Maddox, 
 and I shall regret very much if it is so, 
 but I can hardly believe that a man of 
 refined, cultivated taste, like Mr. Enderby, 
 should fritter away his talents on such a 
 profitless and unintellectual pursuit as 
 horse-racing. Mr. Enderby entered at once 
 into all the incisive logic and satire of 
 the Verity Letters, and has besides literary 
 ambitions of his own. Some of his work 
 which I have had the privilege of perusing 
 is, I assure you, very passable indeed for a 
 young hand. He is most attentive to bis
 
 THE CHESTERFIELDS. 9 
 
 parish duties, and, though he is certainly 
 not so popular in the pulpit as Mr. Lomax, 
 yet I think there is more stuff in his sermons. 
 Of course I shall speak to him on the sub- 
 ject ; it is only right that a man should 
 have a chance of refuting a scandal such 
 as this is, for a scandal it is to one of our 
 cloth. He may not know that the report 
 is afloat concerning him." 
 
 " I feel sure he is perfectly aware of it," 
 replied the general sententiously, " and he 
 has taken no steps to justify himself in 
 any way." 
 
 The Reverend Mr. Jarrow was a pompous 
 and not particularly wise man, but one 
 thing he was always quite clear about, namely, 
 that the Church was not to be hectored over or 
 dictated to by the laity. He was as arbitrary 
 and jealous of the powers of the Church as 
 CardinalWolsey, and tolerated no interference 
 with his parish on the part of any of his
 
 10 A FALSE START. 
 
 parishioners. He was well to do, having a 
 comfortable private income besides his living, 
 and was no niggard with regard to the 
 spending of money on his cure, but he 
 invited no co-operation on the part of the 
 wealthier of his flock that was not to be 
 under his immediate control. He had spent 
 and raised money to decorate his church 
 and improve his schools, but he had sted- 
 fastly insisted upon dictating as to how it 
 should be expended. He was sure to stand 
 by any curate of his who was attacked by 
 the laity, more especially when the charge 
 was proffered by one of the chiefs of that 
 military hierarchy at whose presence in 
 Tunnlcton the reverend gentleman so per- 
 sistently chafed. 
 
 It was the week succeeding the New- 
 market races that General Maddox spoke 
 to Mr. Jarrow. The general was of course 
 aware of what had taken place between his
 
 THE CHESTERFIELDS. 11 
 
 wife and Mrs. Enderby, and was quite as 
 indignant on his part as Maurice was. He 
 considered it a great piece of condescension 
 that Mrs. Maddox should have taken the trouble 
 to call upon Mrs. Enderby, acquaint her 
 with her husband's iniquities, and implore 
 her to use her influence to turn him from the 
 error of his ways. 
 
 "I should like to know what more a 
 kind-hearted woman could have done, and, 
 by Jove, instead of being grateful, Mrs. 
 Enderby actually flouts her, flouts her, sir, 
 flouts my wife, Mrs. Maddox." 
 
 In fact, the two generals were both 
 furious, and went about trumpeting in their 
 wrath like wild elephants. A version of the 
 scene in Mrs. Enderby 's drawing room was 
 all over the town by this time, and it was 
 generally known that lady had behaved with 
 extreme rudeness to Mrs. Maddox and Mrs. 
 Praun simply because they had endeavoured
 
 12 A FALSE START. 
 
 to persuade her to exercise her influence over 
 her husband to induce him to refrain from 
 speculation on horse-racing. The tide was 
 running strong against the Enderbys. The 
 Torkeslys and other members of the com- 
 munity expressed their opinion that there 
 was nothing for Mr. Enderby but to resign, 
 he could never hope to be of any use in his 
 vocation at Tunnleton. Dick Madingley 
 took advantage of the popular outcry against 
 the curate to throw his stone at him. He 
 had made up his difference with Kinnersley, 
 and finding that he was a stanch believer in 
 Madingley was careful what he said before 
 him. But Kinnersley, not being present, he 
 did not scruple to remark to that sporting 
 coterie of which he was the acknowledged 
 oracle, 
 
 " He's a knowing shot the parson. I don't 
 know where he got his inspiration, but Mr. 
 Brooks's Wandering Nun for the 'Chester-
 
 THE CHESTERFIELDS. 13 
 
 fields' was about one of the best tilings of the 
 season. He don't bet, not he, oh no. Quite 
 right to say so in his position, and I was a 
 fool to chaff him about it. All the fault of 
 that confounded sherry and bitters. Dashed 
 if I don't think they distil that sherry on the 
 premises, it is so strong. But you can't make 
 me believe he hadn't a pretty good win over 
 it, • I've seen rather to much of life for that. 
 It's not in human nature to have such a bit 
 of information and not make money of it." 
 
 Mr. Madingley, I am afraid, had consider- 
 able experience of the shady side of life, and 
 was far from placing a high estimate on the 
 morality of his fellows. 
 
 But the Enclerbys w r ere by no means 
 friendless, and the Chyltons, with whom they 
 had been intimate from the first, stood 
 gallantly by them now. Frank Chylton, 
 when the rumour first reached his ears, 
 said stoutly, he did not believe it, and then
 
 14 A FALSE START. 
 
 went straight to Maurice and told him what 
 people were saying concerning him. 
 
 " There is not a word of truth in it," re- 
 joined the curate. " I may have given some 
 little handle for such a falsehood to get about 
 by foolishly talking about racing to some of 
 the men at the club, but I have never made 
 a bet of any description since I left the Uni- 
 versity, which was before I was married." 
 
 " It is very odd such a report should have 
 got about," replied Frank, " but I felt sure it 
 was false before I saw you, and now 1 have 
 your own word for it I shall give it the most 
 unqualified contradiction wherever I hear it 
 alluded to." 
 
 The Reverend Mr. Jarrow took an early 
 opportunity of speaking to his curate about 
 tli is unfortunate rumour as he termed it, and 
 Maurice answered him as frankly as he had 
 done Chylton. 
 
 u Ah, Mr. Enderby, I felt sure I could
 
 THE CHESTERFIELDS. 15 
 
 rely upon you, and I shall have the greatest 
 possible pleasure in requesting General 
 Madclox not to intrude upon my valuable 
 time with such idle canards in future. A 
 venial imprudence you may have been 
 guilty of, but that is a very different thing 
 from the accusation they would fain lav at 
 your door. I would recommend you to be 
 a little more guarded all the same in future," 
 and the rector departed, burning to tackle 
 General Maddox and demand retractation of 
 his charges on that gentleman's part. 
 
 A veritable storm in a tea-cup all this, 
 no doubt, but it is precisely such little con- 
 vulsions that constitute the salt of existence 
 in small country towns. Questions of the 
 kind are to them what a strenuous battle 
 between the Government and the Opposition 
 may be in the House of Commons, and 
 Tunnleton was literally divided into two 
 camps on the subject of Maurice Enderby's
 
 16 A FALSE START. 
 
 iniquities. Generals Macldox and Praun 
 were the leaders of one party, who received 
 the assertion of his innocence with polite 
 incredulity, while the Reverend Mr. Jarrow 
 and Frank Chylton championed him with 
 perhaps more zeal than discretion. Sin- 
 gularly enough, too, there was quite a bitter 
 feeling engendered on the subject amongst 
 the community, for, while the one side held 
 that if you believed in Mr. Enderby's inno- 
 cence, well, then, you would probably believe 
 anything, the other contended that you 
 must be malicious, spiteful, and uncharitable 
 if you doubted the word of a gentleman of 
 unblemished repute. 
 
 Nobody, perhaps, contributed more to 
 keep the scandal alive than Mr. Richard 
 Madingley. He was a very popular cha- 
 racter in Tunnleton just now, as a well-to-do 
 young bachelor who entertained liberally 
 might well be. There were very few young
 
 THE CHESTERFIELDS. 17 
 
 ladies in the town who would not have 
 
 thought twice before saying no to an offer 
 
 of occupying the top of his table for life. 
 
 Dick Madingley was quite aware of this, 
 
 and gave himself great airs in society in 
 
 consequence, and society bore with them, as 
 
 it usually does with the impertinences 
 
 of young gentlemen of substance. 
 
 We have so far seen Madingley under 
 
 rather unfavourable circumstances, but it 
 
 must not be supposed that his manner was 
 
 so coarse and obtrusive generally as it had 
 
 been in the Tunnleton Club. In vino Veritas 
 
 is a very true saying, and it is probable that 
 
 shcrry-and-bitters or brandy-sodas had much 
 
 to say to his want of breeding upon those 
 
 occasions; still, upon this topic of Enderby's 
 
 offending he had always something to say ; 
 
 he was as vindictive a man as ever stepped, 
 
 and had never forgiven Enderby's rebuff in 
 
 the billiard-room. 
 
 VOL. II. c
 
 18 A FALSE START. 
 
 " My dear Miss Torkesly," lie would say, 
 sl don't ask me what I think ; as a man of 
 the world, when a gentleman informs me 
 that a horse, that has never run, will win a 
 big 1 race, I invariably conclude he is in 
 possession of private information ; when I 
 see him feverishly anxious about the betting 
 previous to that race, and about the result, 
 I can only conclude that he has very 
 naturally made use of his information. 
 Whether that is a right thing to do for 
 a clergyman I don't pretend to determine ; 
 it's a question I leave to older heads than 
 
 mine.'' 
 
 This was the line that Mr. Madinglcy 
 adopted, 
 
 " The evidence is all against him but 
 still I will not say he is guilty." 
 
 It was two days after Maurice's inter- 
 view with Mr. Jarrow that, upon coming 
 down to breakfast, he found Bessie seated
 
 THE CHESTERFIELDS. 19 
 
 at the tabic, an open letter in her hand, and 
 a face in which surprise, exultation, and 
 dismay were strangely mingled. 
 
 " Maurice," she said, "I have got a letter 
 from Uncle John, and I don't quite know 
 whether to be pleased or sorry about it." 
 
 " From Uncle John ? Let me see it." 
 
 She handed him the letter without another 
 word. 
 " My dear Bessie, 
 
 u Our joint property has turned out a 
 veritable flyer, and I honestly believe just 
 now is about the best two-year-old in 
 England. The Wandering Nun won her 
 race last week at Newmarket with con- 
 summate ease, and there were some very 
 fair youngsters behind her. 
 
 " I hope you and your husband like Tun- 
 
 nleton, and are pretty comfortable there. 
 
 It is many years ago since I saw it — 
 
 more years indeed than I care to think 
 
 c2
 
 20 A FALSE START. 
 
 of. I recollect it is very pretty but very 
 quiet. 
 
 " I inclose you a cheque for your half of 
 the Chesterfields, and trust that if she goes 
 on well the Nun will prove a gold-mine to 
 both of us. 
 
 " Best love to yourself, and with kind 
 regards to your husband, 
 " Believe me, 
 
 u Ever, dear Bessie, 
 
 u Your affectionate Uncle, 
 
 " John Mauingley." 
 " And what's the cheque for ? " asked 
 Maurice. 
 
 " Here it is,'' she replied, handing it him. 
 Maurice quite started as he gazed upon it. 
 " Five hundred and fifty-seven pounds," he 
 murmured slowly.
 
 21 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 EDITH MOLECOMBE. 
 
 " What did you mean by saying you didn't 
 know whether to be glad or sorry ? " asked 
 Maurice, as soon as lie had recovered from 
 his first surprise. 
 
 " It looks rather as if the charge brought 
 against you by these two terrible women 
 was true, doesn't it ? " 
 
 " It does rather,'' replied Maurice, smiling, 
 as he dropped the cheque into his waistcoat- 
 pocket, " but we know that it is not so.
 
 22 A FALSE START. 
 
 I have a perfectly clear conscience on that 
 score, and just think, Bessie, what we can do 
 with the money. It will put us perfectly 
 straight with the Tunnleton tradespeople — no 
 bother about writing to your trustees now, 
 my dear — enable me to stop Badger's mouth 
 with a handsome cheque on account, and 
 leave us a comfortable balance besides in the 
 local bank. 
 
 " But what will Mr. Chylton think when 
 you cash the cheque, Maurice ? You know 
 you have never told him anything about 
 Uncle John's wedding present. He believes 
 thoroughly in you, but the presenting such a 
 big cheque as this on the top of this charge 
 will look so dreadfully as if you had won the 
 money by betting." 
 
 " What a clever little woman it is ! " re- 
 joined Maurice, admiringly. " You are 
 right ; it would. I will take it up and get 
 it cashed at my banker's in town.''
 
 EDITH MOLECOMBE. 23 
 
 Tliis Maurice accordingly did, but lie then 
 committed the strange oversight of paying 
 two hundred pounds into his account at the 
 Tunnleton Bank. This was even more 
 likely to induce the people at the bank to 
 put a false construction on his sudden ac- 
 quirement of money than if he had put in 
 John Madingley's cheque. The story of the 
 sporting parson who had won such a good 
 stake over the Chesterfields was by this 
 well known to the inferior strata of Tunnle- 
 ton ; the bank clerks looked upon Maurice, 
 not with the horror of Generals Maddox and 
 Praun, but with no little admiration. The 
 ostlers and the fly-drivers had by this time 
 heard of Mr. Enderby as a rare judge of 
 racing, and accorded him no little veneration 
 in consequence. He had mounted a far 
 higher pinnacle in the eyes of these godless 
 understrappers of the stable than any elo- 
 quence in the pulpit could ever have placed
 
 2 1 A FALSE START. 
 
 him on. Sad to say, they took more interest 
 in the ways of this world than in the pre- 
 paring of themselves for another. 
 
 Mr. liumford, the butcher, and his brethren, 
 when they found all their arrears promptly 
 discharged, were similarly convinced that the 
 report of Mr. Enderby's racing proclivities 
 was true, and these good people received it 
 and looked upon it in very different lights ; 
 some of them laughed, and thought a sport- 
 ing curate rather a joke than otherwise; but 
 there were other more straitlaced who shook 
 their heads at the idea of a clergyman 
 dabbling in such a pursuit ; the opinion 
 of these latter somewhat mollified by the 
 comforting fact that they had at all events 
 got their money. In short, at the end of a 
 fortnight from that Newmarket week Mau- 
 rice Enderby might as well have endea- 
 voured to convert the betting-ring as to 
 induce the bulk of Tunnleton to believe that
 
 EDITH MOLECOMBE. 25 
 
 lie did not bet upon races. Even his stanch 
 friend Frank Chylton was staggered; he 
 naturally knew that Maurice had paid in 
 two hundred pounds to his account, and in 
 face of the charge brought against him there 
 could be no doubt that this was a most 
 suspicious circumstance; he was loyal to his 
 friend as ever, but did think that out of 
 consideration for those who were standing 
 by him Maurice should be more prudent. 
 Frank saw at once that the payment of this 
 two hundred would be known to all the 
 clerks in the bank, and, though his subor- 
 dinates knew very well that keeping their 
 mouths closed was rigorously exacted by 
 their position, he had no doubt that with 
 such a titillating piece of scandal flying 
 about the town they would never be able to 
 refrain from contributing their quota to it. 
 
 Maurice, in the mean time, pursued the 
 even tenour of his way. He had laid out
 
 20 A FALSE STAKT. 
 
 his windfall exactly as he had contemplated. 
 Mr. Badger was profuse in his acknowledg- 
 ments, and his tradesmen were all chapeau 
 has, and that balance at the bank was a com- 
 forting thing to think upon ; but for all that 
 he could not disguise from himself that a 
 considerable portion of Tunnleton society 
 gave him the cold shoulder. Their greetings 
 were chilly, and he was apt to find himself 
 left out of the delirious gaieties of that centre 
 of the universe. One of his enemies there 
 was who certainly retired from the fray 
 sore discomfited. In an ill-advised moment 
 General Maddox took upon himself to read 
 this contumacious young man a lesson on 
 manners. 
 
 I don't think the general ever forgot that 
 fall, and, were he alive, I think, would even 
 still give a slight shudder at hearing Maurice 
 Enderby's name mentioned. It took place 
 in the club, though not before witnesses.
 
 EDITH MOLEOOMBE. 27 
 
 General Maddox was far too gentlemanly a 
 man to have spoken as he did except in 
 private. 
 
 "Mr. Enderby ! cr, er ! you'll excuse my 
 mentioning it, but when a lady of Mrs. Mad- 
 dox's position takes the trouble to call upon 
 Mrs. Enderby, with the kind view of tender- 
 ing her some good advice, I really think she 
 is entitled to be treated with civility and 
 consideration." 
 
 Maurice's face hardened, and there was a 
 dangerous glitter in his eye as he replied, 
 
 " Mrs. Maddox, sir, entered Mrs. Enderby's 
 drawing-room apparently to malign her 
 husband ; she was ruder, as was also Mrs. 
 Praun, than I had believed it possible that 
 any lady could be. I have further to point 
 out that my private affairs are no business 
 of yours, and I will trouble you not to med- 
 dle with them for the future."
 
 2S A FALSE START. 
 
 " Sir ! " exclaimed General Maddox, " do 
 you mean to insinuate " 
 
 " I insinuate nothing," interposed Maurice 
 quickly. "I have said what I meant to say, 
 and am now going to lunch, and have the 
 lion our to wish you good morning." 
 
 As for General Maddox, he sank back in 
 an arm-chair, gasping with indignation. His 
 usual portly presence was in a state of col- 
 lapse pitiable to witness ; it was probably a 
 quarter of a century since any one had pre- 
 sumed to tackle the pompous old general in 
 this fashion. 
 
 11 By Jupiter ! I'll have him out,'' he mut- 
 tered at last, ignoring for the moment that 
 the duel was as obsolete in England as the 
 tilt-yard, and that even in its most flourish- 
 ing days the priest's cassock carried exemp- 
 tion. After a little he got up, and as he 
 walked home said, "No! there is only one
 
 EDITH M0LEC0MI5E. 21) 
 
 thing to do, hunt the fellow out of Tuimle- 
 ton ; and, by Jupiter! I'll do it." 
 
 The glorious July days rolled sunnily by, 
 and the country around Tunnleton is in all 
 its glory. The woods and fields are full of 
 wild flowers, and the hedges thick with dog- 
 roses and wild honey -suckle, the meadows 
 alive with sturdy lambs, and the corn, though 
 standing strong and green upon the ground, 
 yet here and there begins to show slight 
 indications of changing to a golden hue. 
 
 The parade is deserted, and nothing but 
 the severe exigencies of shopping bring the 
 fair ladies of Tunnleton to the High Street. 
 The hum of insects is in the air, the very 
 birds give vent to low querulous twitterings 
 as if entering their protest about the state of 
 the thermometer. The cattle stand languidly 
 switching their tails till the agressive army 
 of flics proves too much for their patience, 
 when they stampede in wild ungainly gallops
 
 30 A FALSE START. 
 
 round their pastures. Tunnlcton lies at the 
 bottom of a basin, and consequently the 
 little air there is barely reaches it. The 
 shopkeepers stand sweltering in their shirt- 
 sleeves at their doors ; no one would think of 
 buying and selling, save from dire necessity, 
 in such weather. The dogs lie upon the 
 door-steps with their lolling tongues and 
 panting sides, mutely appealing in their 
 canine breasts against the irony of dedi- 
 cating such days peculiarly to them. It is 
 one of those glorious old English summers 
 such as are all but dim memories. 
 
 Tunnleton society has betaken itself to 
 the open air. It is cricketing, lawn-tennis- 
 ing, picnicking, munching fruit and consum- 
 ing claret-cup. There were perpetual open- 
 air gatherings of one sort or another, and 
 Maurice Enderby could not but sec that 
 from a great many of these his wife and 
 himself were excluded ; there could be no
 
 EDITH MOLECOMIUI. 31 
 
 doubt of it; people who bad called upon them 
 in the first instance, and who had appeared 
 anxious to make their acquaintance, now 
 neglected to ask them to such entertain- 
 ments as they might be giving. It did not 
 require much penetration to see that there 
 was a hostile influence at work, and that 
 he had made implacable enemies of the two 
 generals he felt no doubt. Of course, the 
 rector, his friends the Chyltons, and some 
 others welcomed him as cordially as of yore, 
 but amongst the people who had not exactly 
 dropped his acquaintance, but had appar- 
 ently struck him off their invitation list, 
 Maurice was a little surprised to find the 
 Molecombes. Mr. Molecombe was the 
 senior partner in Molecombe and Chylton's 
 bank, and had, on Frank Chylton's repre- 
 sentation, been one of the first people to 
 call and offer civility to the Enclerbys ; 
 however, of the cause of their defection he 
 was destined to be speedily enlightened.
 
 32 A FALSE START. 
 
 He was passing- through the deserted 
 High Street on one of those errands that 
 formed part of his daily work, when he 
 encountered one of the Miss Torkeslys ; 
 as before said, no one ever went out in 
 Tunnleton without meeting a Torkesly. 
 
 " Good morning-, Mr. Enderby," she ex- 
 claimed, with all the volubility character- 
 istic of her race. " Have you heard the 
 news ? " 
 
 "No," replied Maurice, as he shook hands; 
 u I was not aware that there was anything 
 stirring — not even a breeze," he added, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Oh yes, I assure you, Mr. Enderby, a 
 marriage — a real marriage. And I suppose 
 it will take place in the autumn. She is 
 such a nice girl and I am so fond of her. 
 I am going up now to congratulate her. 
 I am sure they must be pleased ! A young 
 good-looking husband with lots of money,
 
 EDITH MOLECOMBE. 38 
 
 what more could anyone want. I don't 
 believe she cares much about him, you 
 know. And I should think she is a good 
 deal older than he is, but it will do all 
 very well no doubt, and I am sure I am 
 delighted. And, you know, it really was 
 getting time dear Edith was settled." 
 
 " Excuse me, Miss Torkesly, but I really 
 have no idea of whom you are speaking." 
 
 "No, I forgot you don't go about quite 
 so much as you — I mean — that is, you 
 gentlemen don't interest yourselves so much 
 in marriages and engagements as we do." 
 
 " But won't you enlighten my igno- 
 rance ? " replied Maurice. 
 
 " Of course, of course — you will be de- 
 lighted to hear it, such friends as they are 
 of yours, and you so intimate with the 
 Chyltons, and all ! " 
 
 Maurice said nothing. He felt that this 
 feminine wind-bag must have its way. 
 
 VOL. II. D
 
 34* A FALSE START. 
 
 " Yes," continued the young lady, com- 
 placently ; " Edith Molecombe has accepted 
 Mr. Madingley, and, of course, the wedding 
 will be a very grand affair when it does 
 come off; and I do hope they will ask us 
 to the breakfast. Good morning. I really 
 have no time to stand gossiping," and with 
 a gracious smile and bend of her head Miss 
 Torkesly resumed her weary pilgrimage — 
 for the Molecombes lived about a mile out- 
 side the town, and under that fierce midday 
 sun the walk thither was really no small 
 sacrifice at the altar of friendship. 
 
 " Yes," muttered Maurice, as he strolled 
 on, " that would easily account for the 
 Molecombes dropping me. I know Mr. 
 Madingley has never forgiven me for put- 
 ting him down, and, without knowing any- 
 thing positive about it, I should guess he 
 had the capacity of being what Dr. Johnson 
 admired, ' a good hater,'' " and then Maurice
 
 EDITH MOLECOMBB. 35 
 
 tli ought later in the afternoon he would 
 stroll up to the Chyltons and have a talk 
 with them. So when the sun waxed low 
 in the heavens, dropping like a ball of fire 
 into his bed in the west, Maurice and his 
 wife started for the Chyltons. They lived 
 in a pretty villa standing in the middle of 
 a large garden. To say grounds would be 
 a misnomer, it was really nothing more 
 than an extensive garden — well shrubbed, 
 well treed, and tastefully laid out. Sitting 
 under a horse-chesnut on the verge of the 
 flower- gemmed lawn was Mrs. Chylton, a 
 tea-equipage at her side, and her two chil- 
 dren playing at her feet. 
 
 '* I am so glad to see you, Bessie," she 
 cried, as she rose to welcome the new 
 comer, u and you too, Mr. Enderby. How 
 good of you to come up and lighten my 
 solitude ! I was suffering from a bad head- 
 ache in the early part of the afternoon, and 
 
 d 2
 
 38 A FALSE START. 
 
 so give up all thoughts of the Molccombes' 
 garden-party. By the way, how is it that 
 you are not there ? " 
 
 " For the best of all possible reasons — we 
 were not asked," rejoined Bessie. 
 
 Mrs. Chylton said nothing more, but she 
 was a firm friend of the Enderbys, and 
 resolved to take the earliest opportunity of 
 favouring the Molecombe family with her 
 opinion on the subject. 
 
 " I suppose you were very much as- 
 tonished at the announcement of Edith's 
 engagement ? " said she. 
 
 " Well, yes ; but, as I only know Mr. 
 Madingley by sight, I was not likely to 
 have any suspicion of what was coming." 
 
 " No," interposed Maurice, " and then, as 
 you know, Mrs. Chylton, in consequence of 
 my quarrel with Generals Maddox and 
 Praun, a good many houses in the place 
 are now closed to me."
 
 EDITH MOLECOMBE. 37 
 
 lt Yes, they no doubt have considerable 
 influence in Tunnlcton, and a certain num- 
 ber of people would be sure to take their 
 side, but after the shameful conduct of their 
 wives I don't see, Mr. Enderby, that you 
 could have done anything else." 
 
 " No, a man cannot allow his wife to be 
 insulted. General Maddox further had the 
 presumption to attempt to lecture me upon 
 keeping my wife in order." 
 
 " What ! " cried Laura Chylton. 
 
 " He had. That really was the gist of a 
 conversation he thought proper to commence 
 with me when we found ourselves left to- 
 gether the next day in the morning-room of 
 the club, but I don't think he is likely to try 
 his hand at that again," and then Maurice 
 gave Mrs. Chylton an account of that inter- 
 view. 
 
 Mrs. Chylton burst out laughing when 
 Maurice described with a good deal of
 
 3S A FALSE START. 
 
 humour the conclusion of his passage of 
 arms with the general. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Enderby!" she cried; "did 
 you really say that to him ? He will never 
 forgive you. I don't suppose his dignity 
 lias received such a shock for years; and 
 General Maddox without his dignity is 
 nothing. Frank must hear this — it will be 
 nearly the death of him ; he'll be home from 
 the Molecombes about seven. If you can 
 put up with cold lamb and salad for dinner, 
 be good people and stop. It's not sermon 
 night, Mr. Enderby, so you have no 
 
 excuse." 
 
 (t I shall be very glad indeed," said 
 Maurice. 
 
 " Now that's neighbourly," replied Laura. 
 "Smoke if you want to; you'll find the 
 papers and magazines in Prank's room. 
 Bessie and I are going to have a good long 
 lazy gossip."
 
 3J) 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " WHAT A BORE I'VE BEEN." 
 
 Frank Chylton came home to dinner, and, 
 as his wife prophecied, laughed till the tears 
 ran down his cheeks at Maurice's account of 
 his skirmish with General Madclox. 
 
 "I don't blame you," he said; " old 
 Maddox richly deserved it, but it isn't cal- 
 culated to quench the ill-will with which he 
 regards you. No, depend upon it, he and 
 his immediate friends will make the very 
 most of this trumped-up story, and they can,
 
 40 A FALSE START. 
 
 to some extent, make the place unpleasant to 
 you, no doubt." 
 
 tl We must endeavour to bear his enmity 
 with what resignation we can. If his friend- 
 ship is to be burdened with a right to 
 
 administer advice on the part of Mrs. Mad- 
 dox, I infinitely prefer to be without it— eh, 
 Bessie? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Mrs. Enderby, laughing 
 merrily, ' ; I am quite content to figure as 
 the bad child who wouldn't take its powder 
 in spite of all assurances that it was for its 
 good. I suppose they were very full of 
 Edith's engagement this afternoon ? " 
 
 "Yes, it was a perfect feu dejoie of con- 
 gratulations. She looked happy and con- 
 scious, and Madingley more at his ease and 
 less of a fool than a man usually docs under 
 the circumstances." 
 
 " Is Mr. Molecombe very pleased, Frank ? " 
 inquired his wife.
 
 (C 
 
 AVIIAT A BORE I'VE BEEN." 41 
 
 " Very, I should say — ' Very satisfactory, 
 good county family, heir to a nice property 
 — yes, thank you, it will do, Chylton, ' he 
 replied, when I congratulated him. You 
 know his short jerky manner of talking." 
 
 " Well, I suppose it is a good thing for 
 her," rejoined Laura, " though personally 
 I can't say I ever quite fancied Mr. 
 Madingley — I can't tell you why, but it 
 
 is so." 
 
 " I think I can, Mrs. Chylton, but pray 
 put no particular stress upon my opinion, as 
 I'll admit to being somewhat prejudiced 
 against him. What you are conscious of is 
 this — that Mr. Madingley is not quite a 
 gentleman." 
 
 "You are right, Maurice," replied her 
 husband. " He opened a very liberal ac- 
 count with us when he first came, and, as far 
 as money is concerned, there is no reason to 
 suppose but what he has plenty ; but you're
 
 1 2 A FALSE START. 
 
 right, it crops out whenever you have much 
 to do with him. Once get through the 
 French polish, and you'll find an arrogant 
 cad at the bottom of it." 
 
 " Come, Bessie," cried Laura Chylton, 
 laughing ; " when the gentlemen get so very 
 pronounced in their opinions, it is best to 
 leave them to themselves 'ere worse comes 
 of it." 
 
 " Now Maurice," said Frank, as soon as 
 the ladies had left the room, " I've something 
 on my mind concerning you. I hate mys- 
 teries and therefore I'm going to out with it 
 at once. I don't want in the least to pry 
 into your private affairs, but what induced 
 you in the face of this scandal to pay 2001. 
 into our bank last week? Of course, Mole- 
 combe knows it, and, forgive me if it sounds 
 like an impertinence, it is a big sum for a 
 man in your position to lodge to his account, 
 and I need hardly say gives additional
 
 " WIIAT A BORE I'VE BEEN." 43 
 
 handle to the story of your having won 
 money by horse-racing." 
 
 " Stupid of me ! " exclaimed Maurice, " I 
 wanted cash to draw against, to satisfy my 
 tradespeople; I came unexpectedly into some 
 money, and, never thinking of the construc- 
 tion you have put upon it, paid into your 
 bank." 
 
 Frank Chylton said nothing, but he 
 looked uneasily at his companion. Maurice 
 caught the glance, hesitated for a minute or 
 two, and then said, 
 
 t; You've been a stanch friend, Frank, 
 and are entitled to know the whole story, 
 and, providing you will give me your promise 
 not to open your lips without my permission, 
 I will tell it you." 
 
 Chylton readily gave the required promise, 
 and then, without further preamble, Maurice 
 related the story of Uncle John's eccentric
 
 1 1 A FALSE START. 
 
 wedding present, and what had come of it 
 so far. 
 
 Frank listened attentively. 
 " I don't know anything about such 
 things,'' he said, when Maurice had finished? 
 "but how it led you to take an interest in 
 racing matters is very easy of comprehension. 
 In that respect it has been perhaps an un- 
 fortunate gift, but, so far as I do understand 
 things, from a money point of view, it is 
 likely to be very profitable. This success- 
 ful filly has only just started on her career, 
 and will probably win several more valuable 
 races before she lias done. I have only one 
 thing to say, don't think that I'm preaching, 
 but for heaven's sake don't place reliance on 
 big cheques like this tumbling in. That 
 would sap the marrow of any man's charac- 
 ter, and it is after all the hazard of two or 
 three years. It's moral gambling, Maurice, 
 and your ancle had better have; written you
 
 " WHAT A BORE I'VE BEEN." 45 
 
 a cheque for five hundred right off than 
 made Mrs. Enderby such an ill-omened 
 present. Forgive me, old man. What a 
 bore I have been ! Come and have a cigar on 
 the lawn before you trot home." 
 
 It was a very pleasant hour that, in the 
 garden, in the bright light of the full moon. 
 Frank and Maurice strolled up and down 
 enjoying their tobacco, and talking over their 
 old boyish days, when Maurice used to come 
 down to spend his Easter holidays at Tunnle- 
 ton ; while the ladies interchanged those con- 
 fidences which it is seldom the sex has not at 
 command. Ah, those boyish days ! I am not 
 quite sure whether we ever experience the 
 same pure, unadulterated enjoyment after- 
 wards. I am not talking of school-days, in 
 which there was more to loathe than to like, 
 but of those holiday times when we were per- 
 mitted our own sweet will, and were up at 
 daybreak to take up the night-lines. Then
 
 46 A FALSE START. 
 
 there were birds' nests and wasps' nests to be 
 taken in the morning, countless occupations 
 for the afternoon if our restless energies 
 were not expended, and rabbits to be potted 
 with the old single barrel we were allowed 
 in the gloaming. That grim piece of irony, 
 the holiday-task, did not exist in those days, 
 or if it did was a little joke between master 
 and boy, supposed to pacify parents in wet 
 weather, when their progeny made them- 
 selves more objectionable than usual in con- 
 sequence of enforced confinement, but never 
 to be seriously alluded to on returning to 
 school. 
 
 As they walked home Maurice said to his 
 wife, 
 
 " I have had it clean out with Frank 
 ( hylton, Bessie, and told him the whole 
 story. He a little staggered me ; he seems to 
 regard your uncle's as the gift of the wicked
 
 "WHAT A BORE I'VE BEEN." 4<7 
 
 fairy, and is a little disposed to take your 
 view of it." 
 
 " Oh, I hope not, Maurice. I own I was 
 afraid at first it was leading you to take an 
 interest in matters that would be destructive, 
 to say nothing of disgraceful, to your pro- 
 fessional career. But you have given that 
 up, have you not ? " 
 
 " Yes, but I'll admit the poison is hardly 
 out of my blood. It is with great difficulty 
 I abstain from the sporting papers, and in 
 our own daily I never can resist the sporting 
 intelligence. Is there inflammatory action 
 in money that comes to one in this wise ? 
 On my word, I am half-tempted to believe 
 it. Bessie, Bessie, I am afraid this fatal 
 present of Uncle John's will be the ruin 
 of me ! " 
 
 " Nonsense, Maurice, dear, you're excited 
 to-night and taking too strained a view of 
 things. I know I took the theoretical and
 
 48 A FALSE START. 
 
 high-toned view at first, but, oh, Maurice, 
 when it comes to the practice, there is no 
 denying there's a comfort in money that's 
 not dishonestly come by. To walk into 
 Rumi'ord's shop now is so different to what 
 it was a fortnight ago. Take Uncle John's 
 present, as we should take it, as windfalls 
 by no manner of means to be reckoned on. 
 Don't trouble your head about the Wandering 
 Xun, and then, dear Maurice, no harm can 
 come to you." 
 
 Poor Bessie ! She spoke as a woman will 
 speak, or, for the matter of that, men too, 
 about a thing outside her experience ; as if 
 nine men out of ten, who have made a 
 tolerable bet on the Derby or drawn a 
 prominent favourite in a Derby sweep, do 
 not, more or less, speculate upon what they 
 will do with those imaginary winnings. 
 They may deny it, but I know better, and 
 have even had many invitations to dinners
 
 "what a bore i've been.'' 49 
 
 from sanguine backers, dinners which, sad 
 to say for their sakes, were never celebrated. 
 When the Enderbys reached home they 
 found a heap of letters on their table; of 
 these, three only have anything to do with 
 this story, but with these three it is neces- 
 sary the reader should be acquainted ; one 
 was to Maurice, the others to his wife ; we 
 will take Mrs. Enderby's first. 
 " My dear Bessie, 
 
 " You and I are halves in the greatest 
 flyer of the year. There will be another 
 sugar-plum fall into our mouths, I think, at 
 Goodwood, and perhaps something more 
 later on, though you know racing is both, 
 like life, uncertain and desperately wicked. 
 You must forgive an old man, my dear ; 
 people were laxer in their ideas when I was 
 young, and I am too old to change; I've 
 done and do my duty conscientiously in my 
 
 VOL. II. E
 
 50 A FALSE STAET. 
 
 own way, but my ways, I know, are not in 
 accordance with the times. 
 
 " What I am writing to you chiefly about 
 is this. Can you put up with an old, somewhat 
 irritable, old man after Goodwood ? I am 
 ordered change and quiet, and, though I 
 have no business to be seen on a race-course, 
 must go there to see my favourite run. 
 Tunnleton suited me years ago, and the 
 doctors tell me will now, and that the iron- 
 water is just the tonic I require. They 
 must say something, but of course what I 
 do require is the hands of the clock put 
 back a quarter of a century. 
 
 " Drop me a line to the Bedford, Covent 
 Garden, and tell your husband he's not 
 to fidget about wine ; I am peculiar in that 
 respect, and my own wine-merchant will 
 soul down what is good for me, or at all 
 events what I take. If you can't take me 
 in. get me comfortable lodgings near, and,
 
 " WHAT A BORE I'VE BEEN." 51 
 
 upon second thoughts, perhaps that would 
 be best, though I should like to dine, &c. 
 with you for the sake of your society. You 
 have a baby, you know, and the most 
 estimable babies will give vent to screams 
 and wailings, which no bachelor, much less 
 an old one, appreciates. 
 
 " Kind regards to your husband, 
 u Ever, dear Bessie, 
 
 " Your affectionate Uncle, 
 " John Madingley." 
 
 " We can't well take him in, Maurice. 
 He will require a couple of rooms to make 
 him thoroughly comfortable ; besides, I 
 should be on tenterhooks every time ' 
 
 " Baby lifted up his voice and wept," 
 interposed Maurice, laughing, " and it 
 is not to be supposed that young auto- 
 crat is going to change his habits to accom- 
 modate a great uncle. No. No, Bessie, I'll 
 
 get a comfortable bedroom and sitting-room 
 
 e 2
 
 52 A FALSE START. 
 
 at Bevan's close by. He can lunch, dine, and 
 spend as much of the evening as he chooses 
 with us, and will have his own rooms to re- 
 treat to whenever he wants to be quiet. It 
 will all work very well, only, little woman, 
 don't spare the table money while Uncle 
 John's with us." 
 
 " Never fear," replied Bessie, merrily, " we 
 will go in for riotous living, which will pro- 
 bably throw out his gout, and bring down a 
 solemn anathema on your devoted head. 
 Who is your other letter from ? " 
 
 " This," said Bessie, as she tore it open, 
 "is from the Bridge Court people. They 
 
 really are very kind — read it " 
 
 "Deab Mrs. Enderby, 
 
 " Will you both come and spend next 
 week with us? Your husband's old friend 
 Mr. Grafton has promised to pay us a visit, 
 and I am sure will enjoy a talk over old 
 days with him. Pray tell Mr. Enderby I
 
 " WHAT A BORE I'VE BEEN." 53 
 
 can take no refusal. If his duties require 
 his presence in Tunnleton, he can walk 
 over after breakfast, and be out again 
 easily in time for dinner. I guarantee 
 that his days shall be at his own disposal if 
 necessary. 
 
 " With kindest regards from both myself 
 and the girls, believe me, 
 
 " Sincerely yours, 
 
 " Louisa Balders." 
 
 " Bridge Court, Tuesday. 
 
 "P.S. Let us know when I am to send the 
 carriage for you on Monday." 
 
 "It is very kind of them, and would be a 
 very pleasant change, I should like it im- 
 mensely, but I suppose it cannot be ma- 
 naged,'' said Bessie. 
 
 " Why not ? " rejoined her husband. 
 
 " Well, you see, Uncle John is coming; it 
 is impossible we can go away for a week 
 under those circumstances."
 
 A FALSE START. 
 
 " Nonsense ! this is for next week ; Uncle 
 John is not coming until the week after 
 Goodwood — three weeks hence. No, it will 
 all fit in very well, write and say we shall 
 be delighted to come ; as Mrs. Balders said, 
 I can easily walk over and do my work." 
 
 " But who is your letter from, Maurice ? ' 
 replied Bessie. 
 
 " Oh, I had (mite forgotten all about that. 
 In the excitement produced by Uncle John's 
 determination to visit Tunnleton, I might 
 well forget everything else ; you seem to 
 forget that I have never seen this mysterious 
 uncle, who, like the uncle of the old comedies 
 or the beneficent genii of fairy tales, showers 
 liis gold upon us. My letter ? why it's from 
 Bob Grafton ; let's see what he has got to 
 say. ' 
 
 " 46, Half-Monn Street. 
 
 " Dear Maurk k, 
 
 "No end of congratulations on the result
 
 " WHAT A BORE I'VE BEEN." 55 
 
 of the Chesterfields. Mr. Brook, there is no 
 doubt, possesses a real clinker in the ' Wan- 
 dering Nun.' I remember a wily old racing 
 man once said to me, ' There is no much 
 better chance for a backer of horses than the 
 getting knowledge of a good two-year old 
 and following it steadily all through the 
 season. Now that is exactly your position. 
 You are following what I firmly believe to 
 be the best two-year old we have seen, with 
 the additional advantage of not risking a 
 
 shilln 
 
 '5 
 
 " I wish Mr. Grafton wouldn't write in 
 that manner," interposed Bessie. 
 
 " Don't interrupt," rejoined her husband. 
 
 tl John Madingley's was an eccentric 
 wedding present, but on my word it promises 
 to turn out a very profitable one, and a very 
 useful one, no doubt in these early days of 
 your career, when a few extra hundreds 
 naturally come in handy. The Ham Stakes
 
 56 A FALSE START. 
 
 at Goodwood lie at her mercy, and I can't 
 see what is to beat her in " the Champagnes " 
 at Doncaster, and to wind up with she has 
 several engagements in the October meetings 
 at Newmarket, though whatshe will be slipped 
 for one can't tell at present. She is likely 
 anyway to prove a veritable gold-mine to 
 Messrs. Enderby and Brook. I was going 
 to volunteer myself as a visitor for a night 
 or two next week, but I have had a letter 
 from Mrs. Balders asking me to Bridge 
 Court, and assuring me that I should meet 
 you both ; so we will have our gossip 
 there, and I will describe the ' Nun ' to 
 you. She takes after her sire, and gallops 
 like a piece of machinery. 
 
 11 Good-bye for the present. Trusting to 
 see you next week, and with kind regards 
 to Mrs. Enderby, believe me ever yours, 
 
 " Robert Grafton." 
 
 " I shall be very pleased to meet Mr
 
 "WHAT A BORE I'VE BEEN." 57 
 
 Grafton again," said Bessie, " but Maurice, 
 dear, don't be angry if I give one word of 
 caution. I know you will have some racing 
 talk with Mr. Grafton ; but please don't talk 
 about it in public. You know what a scan- 
 dal is already raised here, and, though the 
 Bridge Court peoj)le are not so particular, 
 yet it is wonderful how things get round, 
 and it really is calculated to do you harm 
 in your profession." 
 
 Maurice made no reply. "Do him harm 
 in his profession ! " Suddenly it flashed 
 across him whether he had not made a mis- 
 take ; whether he could ever be fitted for 
 the high office he had taken on himself ; or 
 whether it would not be better to pause 
 before seeking to be ordained priest.
 
 58 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 BITTEN OF THE TARANTULA. 
 
 Having read the papers, and pronounced 
 his views on the political situation in those 
 grave sonorous tones to which the club 
 morning-room was so well accustomed, 
 General Maddox shouldered his white um- 
 brella, and made his way home to luncheon. 
 He saw as he entered his dining-room that 
 Mrs. Maddox was evidently in what he 
 termed a state of fuss. 
 
 "General," she exclaimed, "I have had
 
 BITTEN OF THE TARANTULA. 59 
 
 one of the Torkesly girls here this morning, 
 and you will hardly believe it when I tell 
 you, that, in spite of all that has passed, the 
 Endcrbys have actually gone to stay at 
 Bridge Court." 
 
 "No, you don't mean it!" ejaculated 
 the general, for once surprised out of his 
 customary phlegmatic manner. 
 
 "Indeed, I do; Clara Torkesly saw it 
 with her own eyes. Saw them get into a 
 Bridge Court carriage at their own door, 
 and drive off with the boxes' and portman- 
 teaus outside." 
 
 " It is very odd what made the Balders 
 take them up," said the general, medita- 
 tively. 
 
 11 1 presume you will think it your duty 
 to interfere ? " remarked the lady sharply. 
 
 "Me! interfere?" said the general; "why 
 how can I interfere ? " 
 
 " I presume you will write to Mr. Balders
 
 GO A FALSE START. 
 
 and explain to him that he is entertaining 
 a gambling clergyman who ought to be 
 unfrocked " 
 
 " Nonsense ! I haven't met Mr. Balders 
 half-a-dozen times altogether, and our ac- 
 quaintance is of the very slightest. I can't 
 interfere about whom he may think proper 
 to entertain at Bridge Court; but my 
 opinion is unchanged about Mr. Enderby, 
 and I shall certainly recommend all my 
 friends in Tunnleton to keep clear of him." 
 
 " I contend', general, if you did your 
 duty you would write to Mr. Balders at 
 once." 
 
 " Then for once, my dear, I shall not do 
 my duty. I am not going to run the risk 
 of being snubbed for such uncalled-for inter- 
 ference in an almost stranger's affairs as 
 that would be. When I conceive I am 
 entitled to speak I shall do so." 
 
 "And I tell you, general, you're not only
 
 BITTEN OF THE TARANTULA. 01 
 
 entitled to speak now, but you're not doing 
 duty by society if you do not," retorted 
 Mrs, Maddox, with all the obstinacy and 
 steady adherence to her point that a vin- 
 dictive woman usually displays under such 
 circumstances. Mrs. Maddox was quite 
 conscious that she had had the worst of 
 her skirmish with Mrs. Enderby. It was 
 more bitter than the case of those, who, 
 seeking wool, come home shorn. She had 
 gone forth to patronize and came back 
 " snubbed." There was no other word for 
 it, and when that happens to any of us, re- 
 prisals, if they cannot be made on the 
 offender, must be made upon somebody else. 
 Do not the veracious legends of the House of 
 Ingolclsby remind us how a great warrior 
 of the Louis Quatorze times 
 
 " Had just tickled the tail of Field-marshal Turenne, 
 Since which the Field-marshal's most pressing con- 
 cern 
 Was to tickle some other chief's tail in his turn."
 
 62 A FALSE START. 
 
 Mrs. Maddox could not retaliate directly 
 upon Bessie, but she could through her 
 husband, and she meant to do so. 
 
 1 lef ore the general could reply the door 
 opened and the man-servant said, "Mr. 
 J arrow is in the drawing-room, and says 
 he is particularly anxious to see you, sir." 
 
 " Say I will be with him immediately, 
 Williams. Now what can Jarrow want ? I 
 should think he has come to admit that he 
 can defend Mr. Enderby no longer." 
 
 When the general entered his drawing- 
 room, he found Mr. Jarrow distended with 
 importance on the hearth-rug. Now the 
 general was pompous in his manner, but if 
 there was one man who, so to speak, '•' over- 
 flowed and drowned him " in this particular 
 it was the rector of St. Mary's. The 
 Reverend Jacob Jarrow was continually, 
 when upon his travels, mistaken for a high 
 
 lesiastic in consequence of his extremely
 
 BITTEN OF THE TARANTULA. 63 
 
 patronizing, condescending manner, and 
 General Maddox had always an uncom- 
 fortable feeling of being defeated at his own 
 game when thrown, as had happened more 
 than once, into collision with the rector. 
 There was nothing much in either man in 
 reality. Both depended upon this imposing 
 grandeur of manner — and that proving in- 
 effective had nothing left but to retire from 
 the fray discomfited. But the credulity of 
 mankind is such that they were wont to 
 be regarded as distinguished members of 
 their respective professions, although their 
 records afforded no grounds for such belief. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. J arrow," said the 
 general, as he entered the room. " Charmed 
 to see you, as the servant told me you had 
 something particular to say. I am afraid 
 I owe this visit more to business than 
 sociability." 
 
 u Yes, general," returned the rector, " it
 
 64 A FALSE START. 
 
 is my duty as one of her principal sons in 
 Tunnleton to repel all attacks made against 
 the Church. Sir, you ventured to bring a 
 charge against my curate, which, had it been 
 true, would have amounted in my eyes to 
 immorality in a minor degree. I have in- 
 quired into that charge, and find it to be 
 utterly false. I call upon you now to re- 
 tract it, and to express regret that you 
 should ever have permitted yourself to have 
 made it." 
 
 The general drew himself up to his full 
 height before he replied, then he said slowly 
 but firmly : 
 
 " I regret to say, Mr. Jarrow, that I can 
 do nothing of the kind. What evidence 
 have you of Mr. Enderby's innocence ? 
 Nothing, I presume, but his own word. The 
 bare denial of the accused hardly holds 
 good in a court of justice. I have sat upon 
 court martials in my time."
 
 BITTEN OF THE TARANTULA. 65 
 
 " The decision of which," interposed Mr. 
 Jarrow, pompously, " I'm given to under- 
 stand is usually in defiance of all evidence " 
 
 " You are speaking, Mr. Jarrow," said the 
 general, flushing slightly, "of a court of 
 which you have no knowledge. The accu- 
 
 at C2 
 
 mulation of evidence against Mr. Enderby 
 is very strong. He has been perpetually 
 discussing racing for some time past. He 
 takes an extraordinary interest in a par- 
 ticular race; shows a feverish interest to 
 know the result of it, and, whereas before 
 that race he had been — I am told — in diffi- 
 culties about money matters, he displays 
 great command of that essential a few days 
 afterwards, and finally lodges a good round 
 sum to his credit at the bank." 
 
 " Then, General Maddox, I am to under- 
 stand that you decline to withdraw the 
 accusation you have made ? ' 
 
 VOL. II. F
 
 66 A FALSE START. 
 
 " Certainly I do,-' replied the general, 
 ••' until I am convinced it is unfounded." 
 
 " And that, sir," said Mr. Jarrow, 
 swelling like an outraged turkey - cock, 
 " you will speedily be convinced of in a 
 court of law if Enderby follows my advice. 
 How you have picked up all this infor- 
 mation about his private affairs I don't 
 pretend to conjecture, but it displays a 
 curiosity about your neighbours' affairs 
 which I should hardly give you credit for 
 taking. If Enderby follows my advice he 
 will bring an action for libel against you. 
 Good morning, General Maddox ! " and Mr. 
 Jarrow fumed out of the room. 
 
 The general felt not a little discomfited. 
 Ho felt as unforgiving as ever towards 
 .Maurice Enderby, and moreover he still 
 firmly believed that he was guilty of the 
 charge preferred against him, and only 
 
 _i;ivated his offence by solemnly denying
 
 BITTEN OF THE TAKANTULA. 67 
 
 it, but he was conscious that he had had 
 
 considerably the worst of the argument with 
 
 the rector. That taunt about prying into 
 
 his neighbours' affairs had gone severely 
 
 home to him. It was not the man's nature 
 
 to do so, but the idle gossiping life of an 
 
 inland watering-place eats into the bones, 
 
 gets into the blood. Life is so circumscribed 
 
 that we take an unnatural interest in the 
 
 doings of those around us. He did not much 
 
 believe in any action for libel being brought 
 
 against him, although he was fain to confess 
 
 it would be doosid unpleasant if such a thing 
 
 did take place. He could see already from 
 
 the final taunt that Mr. Jarrow had thrown 
 
 out that a sharp cross-examining barrister 
 
 could at all events give him a very unpleasant 
 
 half -hour in the witness-box. 
 
 At this juncture he was joined by his 
 
 wife, and no sooner was that lady made 
 
 acquainted with the object of Mr. Jarrow's 
 
 f2
 
 6S A FALSE START. 
 
 A'isit than she at once proclaimed no sur- 
 render, and expressed her intention of 
 nailing her colours to the mast. 
 
 " Mr. Jarrow, indeed! A pompous, med- 
 dling priest, who, upon the strength of having 
 written some stupid bombastic letters in the 
 local journals, believed himself a literary 
 Hum and a great controversialist. Pooh ! 
 a fig for the Rev. Jacob Jarrow ! He was 
 always fussing about something ! Let him 
 fuss about this, and if Mr. Enderby was fool 
 enough to listen to him he would see what 
 good he got out of it. If Mr. Enderby chose 
 to invite the public to inspect the quagmires 
 of his career he could do so ; wiser men 
 boarded them over and kept silence about 
 them." 
 
 Maurice and his wife, meanwhile, were 
 thoroughly enjoying their stay at Bridge 
 (ourt. The rector, with all his failings, 
 was a good-natured man, and had conceived
 
 BITTEN OF THE TARANTULA. 69 
 
 a real liking for his new curate, and, hear- 
 ing where Maurice was going, he at once 
 proposed to take a considerable portion of 
 his, Maurice's, duties off his hands for that 
 week, so that he was left pretty much his 
 own master at Bridge Court. 
 
 Bessie thoroughly revelled in the complete 
 freedom from all household affairs, and 
 enjoyed the fruit, the lounging in the 
 grounds, and the lawn-tennis. The Miss 
 Balders, too, thoroughly frank, unaffected 
 English girls, made a great deal of her, 
 and she got on capitally with them, while, 
 to Maurice, chattering over old times or 
 things generally with his friend Bob Graf- 
 ton, was a quiet luxury which he fully ap- 
 preciated. 
 
 " It's a rum start, old John Madingley's 
 coming down to Tunnleton," said Grafton, 
 one evening in the smoking-room ; " you've 
 never met him, you say ; well, it is oood
 
 70 A FALSE START. 
 
 you should do so, and whoever recommended 
 him to nurse his gout here did you a good 
 turn." 
 
 " Yes ; but there is one very singular 
 thing about it. He writes to me to get 
 lodgings for him close to my own house, and 
 proposes to live with us. Now Richard 
 Madingley, his heir, has taken a house in 
 Tunnleton and entertains a good deal. He 
 has a very nice house, and could have put 
 his relation up without any trouble. 
 Curious rather he didn't write to him, 
 isn't it ? " 
 
 ' ' Yes ; I never heard of Richard Mading- 
 ley, and I never heard where John Mading- 
 ley's money was likely to go, but, though 
 he's a wonderful hale, hearty man for his 
 seventy years, that last is a question that 
 we shall probably have answered for us 
 before long," said Bob, musingly ; " so the 
 fellow gives out that he is heir to Bingwell ?
 
 BITTEN OF THE TARANTULA. 71 
 
 He must have clone or the people here could 
 never have arrived at such knowledge." 
 
 " Yes, it is owing to his own volunteered 
 information on the subject that Tunnleton 
 is aware of the fact. My wife never heard 
 of him any more than you, but she owns 
 to being very hazy about her cousins 
 generally. She lost her father when she 
 was young and has never known much 
 about his family, with the exception of 
 Uncle John, the elder of the brothers." 
 
 Grafton looked up suddenly and said, 
 although in careless tones, 
 
 " Does this newcomer know your wife is 
 a Madingley ? '' 
 
 "I should think not; but, Bob, I want 
 to speak to you about something else ; I am 
 afraid I have made a grave mistake in the 
 profession I have selected. I begin to think 
 I am not fitted for clerical life." 
 
 " Can't say I ever thought you were,"
 
 7 "2 A FALSE START. 
 
 rejoined Grafton sententiously, as he emitted 
 a cloud of tobacco from under his mous- 
 tache, " you ride too straight and are too 
 fond of sport generally to sober down into 
 a j tarson of these days. Forty or even thirty 
 years ago you might have done, but you're 
 too late, my boy." 
 
 " Why didn't you tell me so before ? " said 
 Maurice, somewhat bitterly. 
 
 "My dear fellow, what business had I 
 to intrude such advice upon you ? It is 
 one of those things a man must think out 
 for himself." 
 
 " I don't know what to do, but I think I 
 shall throw it up." 
 
 "Well," said Bob, "you're not ordained 
 priest as yet, and therefore you have plenty of 
 time to think the matter over. Now I'm 
 going to volunteer my advice. Your chance 
 has come to you: think it seriously over, 
 and when your mind is clearly made up
 
 BITTEN OF THE TARANTULA. 73 
 
 unbosom yourself to John Madingley. He's 
 in great spirits just now at the running of 
 his pet filly, is evidently very kindly dis- 
 posed to your wife, and, I should think, 
 would be disposed to assist you in any 
 career you may determine to embark on ; 
 only remember, make up your mind and 
 know what you want him to help you in. 
 You can't be such a fool as to think of the 
 turf." 
 
 " No," rejoined Maurice ; " I'll admit 
 Uncle John's legacy has made me think 
 much more about it than I ever did pre- 
 viously, and I, in my dismay upon finding 
 how absorbed I was getting in its doings, 
 on one occasion actually pictured myself as 
 perpetrating that folly, but I need scarcely 
 say that is by no means my view of ' a 
 career.' I sometimes think Uncle John's 
 wedding present has been a very dubious 
 benefit."
 
 74 A FALSE START. 
 
 Grafton looked at his friend for a few 
 seconds with no little astonishment, and 
 then, with a shrug of the shoulders, "rejoined 
 quietly, 
 
 " Well, it's a dubious benefit I only 
 wish some one would confer upon me. My 
 dear Maurice, don't build upon it, but 
 without your bothering your head about 
 it, your wife's eccentric present ought, in 
 the course of this year, and the next, if 
 you have any luck, to be worth not 
 hundreds, but some few thousands, to you, 
 a comfortable send-off in any new line you 
 may strike out." 
 
 " You are right, old man," rejoined 
 Maurice, " I shall follow your advice to 
 the letter. I shall think well over what 
 I am going to do, and put racing away 
 from my mind as much as possible. By- 
 the - way, I think you said the Ham
 
 BITTEN OF THE TARANTULA. 75 
 
 Stakes at Goodwood was the next event the 
 Wandering Nun started for ? " 
 
 A tremendous guffaw from Bob Grafton 
 roused Maurice to a sense of the absurdity 
 of the question on the top of his previous 
 protestation. It was well the pair had the 
 smoking-room to themselves that night or 
 the room would have rung with laughter. 
 
 " Hold me ! hold me ! " exclaimed Bob, 
 as soon as he could control his merriment, 
 " if ever there was a man badly bitten by 
 the turf tarantula, you are the party. 
 Bless you, I can understand it, I have 
 dabbled in it all my life ; used to bet in 
 saveloys and pounds of raisins when I 
 was a small boy. The complaint's old and 
 cl ironic with me, but you have got all the 
 early and inflammatory symptoms." 
 
 " Nonsense, Bob. I'll admit being be- 
 witched by the 'Nun.' I told you the 
 present was a dubious benefit ; but don't
 
 70 A FALSE START. 
 
 think I mean to carry my racing experiences 
 further ; however, after such a piece of 
 inconsistency as I have just been guilty 
 of, I don't think I can do better than be 
 off to bed." 
 
 "Good night," rejoined Grafton; "if 
 you think a laugh will do Mrs. Enderby 
 good before going to sleep you had better 
 recount that speech to her. I shall just 
 finish my cigar and then follow your 
 example." 
 
 " He is right about one thing," mused 
 Grafton, as he smoked on after Maurice had 
 left the room ; "he is not fit for a parson, 
 and what the deuce he is to turn his hand 
 to I don't know. I fancy he would have 
 made a good soldier, but I suppose the time 
 has gone by for that ; I'm afraid he is too 
 old."
 
 77 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE WIRE FROM GOODWOOD. 
 
 But the stereotyed parson's week came to 
 an end, and the Saturday saw Maurice 
 and his wife back in their little house at 
 Tunnleton. Bob Grafton, in a spirit of 
 sheer good nature, volunteered to telegraph 
 in order to assuage that feverish curi- 
 osity which Maurice admitted feeling when 
 he knew that Mr. Madingley's flying filly 
 was to run. 
 
 " Now, don't you go fidgeting about, I
 
 78 A FALSE STAKT. 
 
 shall be at Goodwood, and will send you a 
 wire from the course. Don't you go into 
 the club to look at the tissue, you shall 
 have the news before they get it there, you 
 bet. Good-bye, Mrs. Enderby, don't let 
 your husband read sportiug intelligence, 
 and give him a dose of chloral whenever he 
 manifests a proclivity to talk racing." 
 
 Bessie laughed as she stretched out her 
 hand to say good-bye, but it was rather an 
 anxious little laugh all the same, for she was 
 seriously uneasy about this unfortunate in- 
 terest which her husband took in the affair. 
 
 They were destined to have speedy evi- 
 dence of what Mr. Jarrow's partizanship 
 1 nought upon them. General Maddox, rather 
 appalled by the fierce front displayed by the 
 rector of St. Mary's, had strolled discon- 
 solately off to confer with his great friend 
 Greneral Praun, and that irascible warrior, 
 who was as hot, not as an Indian, but as an
 
 THE WIEE FROM GOODWOOD. 79 
 
 English curry, at once took the fierce and 
 furious view that might have been expected 
 of hirn. 
 
 " Bring an action of libel ! He should like 
 to see Jarrow bring one ! he should like to 
 see Enderby bring one! upon the whole it 
 would seem that he preferred all Tunnleton 
 should bring actions for libel ! He would teach 
 them he was not to be bullied. He had met 
 traders in India under the guise of mission- 
 aries, and had never failed to denounce 
 them. He had met a betting man in Tunnle- 
 ton under the guise of a parson, and he had 
 denounced him. He had never been afraid 
 of doing his duty, and wasn't going to flinch 
 from doing it now. Let them bring their 
 actions for libel ! let them put him in the box 
 and listen to what he had to tell them, 
 Messrs. Jarrow and Enderby would be very 
 sorry in half-an-hour that they had invited 
 his revelations ! "
 
 SO A FALSE START. 
 
 A great man Praun no doubt ; had gone 
 through life under this delusion, and been 
 accepted as such by numbers of his acquaint- 
 ance, chiefly on account of an irritable 
 temper and natural combativeness. But he 
 was no judge of what constituted evidence ! 
 and what he termed his revelations would 
 have been pronounced mere hearsay and 
 gossip and no evidence at all by a court of 
 law. 
 
 Now the next week was Goodwood, and, 
 do what he would, Maurice could not abstain 
 from further glances at the sporting intelli- 
 gence in his own daily paper. It is useless 
 to rail against the infirmity of human nature, 
 but it is scarce in accordance with our com- 
 mon frailty not to manifest curiosity of what 
 may be the result of a lottery or raffle in 
 which we have taken tickets. Still Maurice 
 manfully refrained from entering the club, 
 or throwing himself in the way of its sport-
 
 THE WIRE FROM GOODWOOD. 81 
 
 ing frequenters. He contented himself with 
 slowly gathering the news of the Goodwood 
 doings in his paper next morning ; but on 
 the Wednesday afternoon came an end to 
 this. Between four and five a boy arrived 
 with the yellow tissue, and it need scarcely 
 be said that a Miss Torkesly happened to 
 be passing and witnessed its delivery. The 
 telegram was of the briefest, it was simply 
 this — 
 
 "Congratulations! the Wandering Nun 
 won easily by a length. — R. Grafton. 
 Goodwood Racecourse." 
 
 A thrill of exultation ran through Mau- 
 rice's veins. It is no use disputing it ! To 
 nine hundred and ninty-nine men out of a 
 thousand the acquisition of money is in- 
 spiriting, let their profession be what it may. 
 Maurice did not know exactly what the 
 winning of the Ham Stakes meant, but 
 he had little doubt that it represented two 
 
 VOL. II. G
 
 b'2 A FALSE START. 
 
 or three hundred to his credit at his 
 bunker's. 
 
 He sat with the telegram in his hand, 
 musing over several little things in the way 
 of furnishing that Bessie wanted. He 
 thought also of that pony-carriage of which 
 they had indulged in hazy dreams ; a pony- 
 carriage with its etceteras that they had 
 pictured as coming within their reach, when 
 editors should at length awaken to a proper 
 sense of the value of his — Maurice's— con- 
 tributions ; and here was this money coming 
 in without his lifting a finger (so he ad- 
 mitted with a half sense of shame) to earn 
 it. Granting he was a popular contributor, 
 Maurice could net but think how many 
 articles he must need write, how many 
 wean' hours he must need pass at his 
 writing-table, before he could hope to make 
 that sum of money! It was demoralising — 
 lie Knew it was. He was conscious that,
 
 THE WIRE FROM GOODWOOD. 83 
 
 despite all his struggles to the contrary, he 
 
 was becoming to all intents and purposes a 
 
 gambler. He did not actually play, he did 
 
 not actually bet; but, for all that, he was 
 
 watching the racing reports as men do the 
 
 spinning of the ball or the fall of the card at 
 
 Monte Carlo. However he soon shook off 
 
 his reverie ; none of us wax solemn for long 
 
 over the winning of money, more especially 
 
 won from neither friend nor acquaintance, 
 
 and it was with quite a gay countenance 
 
 that he left his study and ascended to his 
 
 wife's drawing-room. 
 
 " Well, Bessie," he exclaimed, "I have 
 
 just had a telegram from Grafton to say 
 
 that your uncle's filly is victorious again. I 
 
 really am glad that he is coming to us next 
 
 week. He cannot surely mean to keep on 
 
 presenting us with hundreds. When he 
 
 good-naturedly said that you were to go 
 
 halves with him in what the ' Nun ' might 
 
 g2
 
 84 A FALSE START. 
 
 win, lie probably thought she might pick up 
 one decent stake, but could hardly have sup- 
 posed that he was the owner of the very best 
 two-year-old of the season — a filly whose 
 winnings are likely to be computed by thou- 
 sands." 
 
 "No, no," rejoined Bessie, "I agree with 
 you, I don't think that could have been his 
 intention ; but Uncle John is a man of his 
 word, and sure to stick to it. Still his 
 coming here will give you an excellent op- 
 portunity to release him for what he has 
 already done ; and tell him we really expect 
 to participate no further in the Wandering 
 Nun's successes." 
 
 " You are quite right ; I have got a capi- 
 tal first floor for him just over the way, and 
 as soon as he has settled down I'll explain 
 this to him. He has been very loyal to his 
 promise ; many men would have considered
 
 THE WIRE FROM GOODWOOD. 85 
 
 a cheque for a hundred quite sufficient 
 redemption of such a pledge." 
 
 " He has been very good to us, Maurice. 
 1 am no purist, as you know, but Uncle 
 John's jjresent to some extent represents 
 dabbling in the turf. I know, dear, you 
 don't actually, but morally it is otherwise. 
 We will thank Uncle John and have done 
 with it." 
 
 Maurice stirred his tea and quietly as- 
 sented to his wife's proposition. He meant 
 it thoroughly ; he wished to disentangle 
 himself from the meshes of the turf ; but the 
 abandoning that fascination, excej)t under 
 compulsion, requires rigid resolution, as 
 many, a moth who has scorched his wings 
 past redemption at the fatal candle has sadly 
 owned, through many succeeding years of 
 exile or poverty. To Maurice it was so 
 easy to continue his interest in it ; he could 
 always calm his conscience with the assurance
 
 80 A FALSE START. 
 
 that he never actually staked money on the 
 result, but the excitement of watching what 
 to him was really speculation on its chances 
 was one he would be somewhat loth to fore- 
 go when it came to the point. 
 
 Mr. Richard Madingley had given a 
 great garden-party, which was followed up 
 by a dance in honour of his engagement. 
 The greater part of Tunnleton society was 
 present at this fete, and the Enderby 
 scandal, as it had come to be called, was a 
 prominent topic of discussion. The adverse 
 party were much in the ascendant, indeed 
 Maurice could count few friends in that 
 assembly, but he had one powerful one 
 in the person of the Reverend Jacob Jarrow, 
 who had no idea of a curate of his being 
 found fault with by any one but himself. 
 
 Mr. Jarrow was a person formidable to 
 <•< mibat; his very failings tended to make him 
 an awkward antagonist ; his pomposity, self-
 
 THE WIRE FROM GOODWOOD. 87 
 
 complacency, and obstinacy were hard to 
 contend with. You can't convince a man 
 who starts with a steady determination that 
 lie will not be convinced ; ridicule he was 
 impervious to, and, in the matter of words, 
 both ponderous and voluminous ; you could 
 no more have talked the Reverend Mr. 
 Jarrow down than his church steeple. 
 
 General Maddox, after his last week's 
 experience, kept clear of him, but the 
 irascible Praun could not refrain from dash- 
 ing in to rescue his wife from a pretty sharp 
 lecture on want of charity towards her 
 neighbours, which, without exactly men- 
 tioning Maurice's name, evidently had his 
 story for its text. 
 
 " It's all very well, Mr. Jarrow ; we all- 
 know that you consider a curate of yours 
 can do no wrong ; that you decline even 
 to listen to the evidence against him ; but 
 you can hardly expect that the unsupported
 
 ^S A FALSE START. 
 
 word of the rector of St. Mary's will white- 
 wash Mr. Enderby in the eyes of men of 
 the world. I'm told that you counsel him 
 to bring an action for libel against some of 
 us ; I can only say, let him, let him, sir, as 
 far as I am personally concerned ; he will 
 find that more complete exposure is all he 
 will take by that move ! " 
 
 "I have not only counselled him to do 
 so, but I shall urge him still more strongly 
 to persist in such resolution. People who 
 calumniate their fellow-creatures find them- 
 selves mulcted in serious damages in these 
 days ; you will perhaps discover, general, 
 that mere statement doesn't constitute 
 evidence," and with this the rector walked 
 away, with the air of a man who has com- 
 pletely crushed his opponent, most madden- 
 ing to witness. 
 
 " Evidence, forsooth ! " exclaimed the 
 enraged general to his wife ; " the idea of
 
 THE WIRE FROM GOODWOOD. 89 
 
 any parson telling me, a man that has sat 
 on hundreds of court-martials, that I don't 
 know what evidence is ! " and then the 
 general walked off, fuming and muttering, 
 1 am afraid, words not altogether compli- 
 mentary to the clerical profession generally, 
 but he was soon destined to receive conso- 
 lation, and, ere he had gone far, he came 
 across his host, who was being excitedly 
 appealed to by some of his fair guests on 
 the subject of Maurice's iniquities. 
 
 " You see, you know all about these 
 things, Mr. Madingley; you oughtn't to, 
 and of course you'll give it up when you're 
 married, but you really should be a judge 
 of whether Mr. Enderby really is guilty of 
 gambling." 
 
 Dick Madingley, who was by nature 
 relentless in his vengeance, had steadily 
 adhered to his role of Iago. He had nothing 
 to say to it ; he knew nothing about it ; it
 
 90 A FALSE START. 
 
 was no affair of his, but, if you asked him 
 as a man of the world— well, Mr. Enderby 
 had endeavoured to make the most of his 
 information. 
 
 " Ah, I am afraid so. It is very sad that 
 a clergyman should give way to such mad- 
 ness," observed Angelina Torkesly, with a 
 deep sigh ; " but after what I saw yesterday 
 I am afraid there can be no doubt that Mr. 
 Enderby has yielded to temptation." 
 
 And then the fair Angelina, in all the 
 glory of contributing a fresh sauce to the 
 highly-spiced dish of gossip they were dis- 
 cussing, narrated her story of the yellow 
 envelope and the telegraph boy. 
 
 Dick Madingley said nothing, but in the 
 c\<s of the audience this evidently was 
 an important fact that admitted of no 
 rebutting, and they were expressing their 
 opinion to that effect freely when an 
 unctuous voice boomed upon their ears.
 
 THE WIRE FROM GOODWOOD. 9l 
 
 " I would recommend you to be a little 
 more reticent of your opinions, my good 
 people. This accusation is about to become 
 the subject of an action for libel, in which 
 one or two of the leading personages of 
 Tunnleton will figure prominently, and 
 several more have the privilege of entering 
 the witness-box." 
 
 A sudden shower could not have more 
 effectually washed out the conversation than 
 the rector's announcement. It was the first 
 society had heard of such a thing as an 
 action for libel being contemplated, and 
 society had a hazy idea of the pains and 
 penalties connected with that style of pro- 
 secution, but Tunnleton was prompt to 
 recognise that it was a very unpleasant 
 affair to be mixed up in. The Reverend 
 Jacob Jarrow had taken up the cudgels 
 with such good will for his curate, that he 
 had quite persuaded himself that this action
 
 \)'2 A FALSE START. 
 
 should be and would be brought, although 
 Maurice had never for one moment hinted 
 at such a course. However, his speech had 
 the effect of dispersing the little knot, and 
 Mr. Jarrow found himself left face to face 
 with his host and with General Praun as 
 the sole auditor of what might pass between 
 them. 
 
 u It is very good of you to stand up for 
 \<mr curate, Mr. Jarrow," remarked Dick 
 Madingley, suavely, " but, if you have any 
 influence with him, you had best counsel 
 him to drop this action for libel. He is no 
 friend of mine or you would see him here to- 
 day, but I don't like to see a man make a 
 fool of himself. I'm the last fellow to find 
 fault with any one for having sporting tastes, 
 hut if a man does have a little flutter over a 
 race it's no use telling lies about it. I don't 
 pretend to be a censor of morals at my time 
 of life, but, Mr. Jarrow, if it is wrong for a
 
 THE WIRE FltOM GOODWOOD. ( J3 
 
 parson to bet, I can't see that he mends 
 things by denying his having done so." 
 
 " Yon had better be very careful how yon 
 reiterate that calumny,'' said Mr. Jarrow, 
 pompously. 
 
 "Had I," replied Dick Madingley, with 
 an evil gleam in his light blue eyes, " Good ! 
 next time you see your model-assistant, just 
 ask him this question : Did the telegraph 
 bring you good news from Goodwood on 
 Wednesday ? " 
 
 "Good gracious, what do mean?" ex- 
 claimed Mr. Jarrow. 
 
 " Nothing more than I say. Simply ask 
 Mr. Endcrby if the telegraph brought him 
 good news from Goodwood on Wednesday. 
 If his answer satisfies you I am willing to 
 retract my recently expressed opinion." 
 
 It was a bold coup on Richard Macling- 
 ley's part, for telegrams refer to many other 
 things than racing, and Dick had no idea
 
 94 A FALSE START. 
 
 of what Enderby's telegraph was about 
 really. Still he knew that it was the Good- 
 wood week, and had managed to wring from 
 the telegraph clerk, with whom he was on in- 
 timate terms, that it did come from the 
 ducal gathering. 
 
 As for the Reverend Mr. Jarrow he was 
 fairly taken aback, and left, to use nautical 
 parlance " in irons," and ere he could re- 
 cover himself his host was gone.
 
 95 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 JOHN MADINGLEY. 
 
 Early in the following week John Mading- 
 ley arrived in Tunnleton. There had been 
 no nourish of trumpets announcing his 
 arrival, the Enderbys had mentioned it 
 to no one, and the quiet, countrified, old- 
 fashioned clergyman who stepped into the 
 very - well - known lodgings that Maurice 
 had secured for him attracted no attention 
 in the first instance. But in a few days 
 Tunnleton awoke to the fact that Mrs.
 
 96 A IALSE START. 
 
 Enderby had got an uncle who had arrived 
 within its gates, and that the name of that 
 uncle was Madingley, and then the gossip- 
 ing little town literally ran wild with 
 boundless conjecture. What relation was 
 the new-comer to Mr. Richard ? How ex- 
 tremely odd, if he was a relation, that Mr. 
 Richard had never alluded to his expected 
 arrival, and then Tunnleton remembered 
 that Richard Madingley had run up to 
 town, on some lawyer's business it was 
 said, and presumably connected with the 
 marriage settlement. 
 
 Tunnleton felt mystified, and if there is 
 one thing a provincial town invariably re- 
 sents and places the worst construction on 
 it is this. An uncle of Mrs. Enderby, then 
 why did the Enderbys keep his approaching 
 advent a secret? Mr. Enderby's ways ap- 
 apparently, like those of " the Heathen 
 Chinee," were peculiar, and once more
 
 JOHN MADINGLEY. 97 
 
 society si 100k its head over Maurice's ini- 
 quities and came to the conclusion, that, as 
 far as Richard Madingley was concerned, 
 despite the uncommonness of the name, they 
 were namesakes but not relatives. 
 
 However there were two people in Tuunle- 
 ton who did not accept this view of things. 
 Mr. Molecombe the banker, whose daughter 
 was betrothed to Dick Madingley, thought it 
 behoved him to call at all events on one who 
 might prove to be a somewhat important 
 relative of his future son-in-law, and, to say 
 the truth, was not quite so well satisfied in 
 the matter of settlements as a staid business- 
 man should be before he surrendered his 
 daughter to a comparative stranger. Mr. 
 Molecombe came to the grave resolution that 
 he would call. He had sounded his junior 
 partner Frank Chylton pretty severely on 
 this point, but Frank was so indignant at 
 the omission of the Enderbys from the 
 
 VOL. II. H
 
 98 A FALSE START. 
 
 Molecombe garden-party of some few weeks 
 ago, that lie steadfastly withheld the infor- 
 mation he possessed, and there was growing 
 up gradually in Frank Chylton's mind a 
 doubt as to whether Richard Madingley was 
 quite what he professed to be. He had 
 never even hinted such a thing to Maurice, 
 but it struck him as curious that Richard 
 Madingley seemed quite unaware that Mrs. 
 Enderby's maiden name had been identical 
 with his own, and that she was a niece of the 
 man whose property he professed himself 
 heir to. It had occurred to him of late that 
 Mr. Richard Madingley was perhaps draw- 
 ing on his imagination when he described 
 himself as heir to that Yorkshire property, 
 and that the succession to it might be more 
 matter of hope than a declared intention on 
 the part of the present proprietor. 
 
 The Reverend John Madingley of Ring, 
 well might be a pronounced fact in his own
 
 JOHN MADINGLEY. 99 
 
 country and in many other places, but in 
 Tunnlcton he had been a mere impalpable 
 shadow in which they took no sort of in- 
 terest till the arrival of his reputed heir, and 
 even then that Mrs. Enderby was also a 
 relation of the Yorkshire squire and rector 
 had been quite forgotten by the few people 
 who had known it, with the exception of 
 the Chyltons. 
 
 Mr. Molecombe in due course presented 
 himself at John Madingley's lodgings, and, 
 in response to the conventional "not at 
 home," desired to see that gentleman's valet, 
 and explained to him that he did not come 
 within the catalogue of ordinary visitors, as 
 his daughter was engaged to be married to 
 Mr. Richard Madingley. 
 
 The valet's face was immoveable, and his 
 
 manner most deferential as lie listened to 
 
 the banker's story, but he firmly though 
 
 politely reiterated that his orders were im- 
 
 H 2
 
 100 A FALSE STA11T. 
 
 perativc, that liis master was in delicate 
 health, and regretted that he was unable to 
 receive visitors. 
 
 Mr Molccombe retired considerably dis- 
 appointed. Ho thought, considering the 
 circumstances, the rector of Bingwell might 
 have made an effort to sec him. 
 
 Tli ere is a great resemblance between 
 humanity and sheep. Despite their first 
 impressions, no sooner was Tunnleton aware 
 that Mr. Molecombe had called, than it oc- 
 curred to several of the prominent members 
 of Tunnleton society, who had profited by 
 Richard Madingley's hospitality, that it 
 would be perhaps advisable to call upon the 
 new coiner. Mr. Molecombe had, of course, 
 satisfied himself of the relationship before 
 committing himself in this wise. But the 
 same answer was invariably returned which 
 had met the banker on his visit — u Delicate
 
 JOHN MADINGLEY. 101 
 
 health, and deeply regretted he was unahle 
 to receive visitors." 
 
 Not reckoning the Enderhys, John Ma- 
 dinglcy made but one exception to this rule, 
 and that, to the unfeigned astonishment of 
 Tunnleton, was General Shrcwster. That 
 he was a self-contained man, and not given 
 to slopping over like a full pail when jogged 
 against, his acquaintance were awaie. Still 
 it is very odd that he had never mentioned 
 his acquaintance with the master of Bing- 
 wcll, whom he must evidently know inti- 
 mately or he would scarcely have been 
 admitted when he called. 
 
 It was quite true, General Shrewster, 
 although near a score of years younger than 
 John Madingley, had been a contemporary 
 of his upon the turf. It was many a year 
 ae:o since the general had abandoned that 
 fascinating pursuit, but there were plenty of 
 old race-goers even now who could recollect
 
 102 A FALSE START. 
 
 how Captain Shrewster used to " shake the 
 ring." How he would dash in at the last 
 moment, in the days when men really did 
 bet, and write down three or four pages of 
 his betting-book in about the same time as 
 it has taken the writer to scrawl this para- 
 graph. " It's a treat," an old trainer once 
 remarked, " to put the Captain on a good 
 thing, he's the pluckiest bettor I ever saw ! 
 and when he goes in he fairly makes the 
 ring dazed before he snaps his betting-book 
 to again. He has had them so often and so 
 heavily, they are a bit cowed now when he 
 puts down the pieces in earnest.-' 
 
 Yes. General Shrewster's had been the 
 fate of many another who had started in life 
 with a good property and plenty of ready 
 money. How many thousands he had run 
 through on the turf was a matter only 
 known to his bankers, and his solicitor. The 
 large sums that he won by day on the heath
 
 JOHN MADINGLEY. 103 
 
 were more than swallowed up by the reck- 
 less play he indulged in, at the rooms at 
 Newmarket, at night. He had wonderful 
 information and was a most successful specu- 
 lator, but reckless after-dinner play, at the 
 gaming table would easily dissipate such 
 successes, and the gambling houses of 
 Brighton or the rooms at Doncaster easily 
 swallowed up the winnings of the ducal 
 gathering, or successful days on the Town 
 Moor. 
 
 It was in those early days that John 
 Madingley had known young Shrewster. 
 It is hardly worth going into, but in 
 those days the then captain had intimate 
 relations with the great Northern stable 
 in which John Madingley trained, and the 
 rector had been attracted towards him from 
 the audacity with which he was wont to 
 back any promising horse of his. They had 
 become great friends, Shrewster had more
 
 104 A FALSE START. 
 
 tli an once been down to stay at Bingwell. 
 Then eame his smash. He had nothing for 
 it but to exchange to India and leave the 
 settlement of his affairs to his solicitor. The 
 result was, a fine fortune became a moderate 
 competence ; still upon that and his pension 
 General Shrewster as a bachelor was passing- 
 rich in Tunnleton. He never spoke of his 
 past, and that complacent little place, which 
 believed that its knowledge was universal, 
 was quite unaware that the grey-haired 
 veteran, who read the morning papers so 
 pi acidly, who was never seen in the billiard- 
 room, and rarely even as a looker-on in the 
 card-room, was the Captain Shrewster about 
 whose wondrous turf successes and mad 
 doings all London had rung a quarter of a 
 century ago, You may think yourself a big 
 man, you may flatter yourself that you have 
 made your mark, but to bring yourself to a 
 proper sen.se of the nothingness of all human
 
 JOITN MADTNGLEY. 105 
 
 ambition there is nothing like a visit to one 
 of those pulseless provincial places. Except 
 you arc royalty or the prime minister, there 
 will be slight curiosity regarding you. 
 Swinburne, Wilkie Collins, or Millais, run 
 no risk of being mobbed in such towns. 
 
 It was not long before Tunnleton arrived 
 at the fact that General Shrewster was 
 admitted by the recluse of Bevans, as 
 the somewhat ostentatious private hotel 
 where Mr. Madingley had taken up his 
 abode was called, and about this the in- 
 quisitive little town marvelled much. 
 
 Not an easy man to question, this General 
 Shrewster ; could be curt and sarcastic, as 
 more than one social dignitary had dis- 
 covered, somewhat to his discomfiture. 
 Still, Generals Macldox and Praun, after 
 some talk between themselves, came to the 
 conclusion that Mr. Madingley's eccentric 
 seclusion was a thing to be inquired into,
 
 10G A PALSE START. 
 
 and that the information they sought could 
 only be obtained from General Shrewster. 
 But from this latter the two gobe-monches 
 could extract nothing. General Shrewster 
 told them briefly that he had known John 
 Madingley intimately many years ago, that 
 he had come down to Tunnleton for his 
 health, and was not equal to receiving 
 visitors or making fresh acquaintances. 
 
 Even General Praun admitted there was 
 no more to be said ; it certainly was open 
 to a man to choose whom he would receive 
 in his own house. Still, as the uncle of Dick 
 Madingley, Tunnleton, he did think, had 
 claims, &c., &c, which only went to prove 
 that " there was no more to be said," by 
 no means, as a rule, closed discussion, there 
 being generally plenty more of inaccurate 
 talk to follow that brief announcement. 
 
 Maurice and his wife got on capitally with 
 Uncle John. lie looked more like an old-
 
 JOTIN MADINGLF.Y. 107 
 
 fashioned country squire than a clergyman, 
 although his dress was sober enough. He 
 was generally attired in a single-breasted 
 pepper-and-salt coat of slightly sporting cut, 
 drab kerseymere breeches and leggings, and 
 invariably wore a white scarf of matchless 
 fold and immaculate purity. He was evi- 
 dently fond of Bessie, and no sooner did he 
 discover the fascination the turf had for her 
 husband than he unfolded the lore of past 
 decades for his edification, and about the last 
 fifty years of turf history John Madingley 
 was a combination of racing calendar and 
 biographical dictionary very interesting to 
 listen to for any one whose tastes lay that 
 way. One thing Maurice remarked as 
 strange was that he made no allusion to 
 Richard Madingley, and at first seemed a 
 little taken aback to find that he was esta- 
 blished in Tunnlcton; afterwards he appeared 
 to have heard all about it, but to take very
 
 108 A FALSE START. 
 
 little interest in Richard or his proceed- 
 
 ings. 
 
 The following- conversation would have 
 created no little excitement in Tunnleton 
 could it have been heard : — ■ 
 
 "Good morning, Shrewster ! It's very 
 good of you to come and cheer up an old 
 friend who has got very near to the end of 
 his tether. I like a gossip with you over 
 the old times of five anti-twenty years ago." 
 
 " Yes, Madingley, but it's ended the same 
 way with the lot of us. We plunged and 
 won ! We plunged and lost ! and the losings 
 alwa}^s exceeded the winnings by many 
 thousands. My lot was only that of a score 
 of others ; you can recollect. You, like a 
 sensible man, raced solely for sport, and 
 when you did bet it was to an extent that 
 never caused you a moment's uneasiness. 
 However, never mind these bygones. I am
 
 JOHN MADINGLEY. 100 
 
 glad you like young Endcrby. He's a good 
 sort." 
 
 "Yes, he is!" returned John Madingley. 
 "He is a very good young fellow ; but I 
 tell you what, he is in the wrong groove. 
 That chap will never do any good as a 
 parson. They don't stand parsons of my 
 stamp now-a-days, and Maurice is no more 
 fitted for the profession he has chosen than I 
 am, though all the same I have been more 
 conscientious than the world gives me credit 
 for." 
 
 " You are quite right," rejoined Shrewster. 
 " Endcrby would make a rattling good 
 dragoon, but he will never do any good in 
 his present vocation." 
 
 " Well," interposed Mr. Madingley, 
 quickly, " he is not committed to it yet, and 
 he is young enough to change, and I 
 shouldn't mind helping him a little in some 
 other line if he liked."
 
 110 A FALSE START. 
 
 " And what would your heir say to that?" 
 inquired General Shrewstcr. slyly. 
 
 John Madingley threw himself back in his 
 chair, and burst into a roar of laughter. 
 
 " Ah," he said at length, "what a com- 
 motion there will be in Tunnleton when they 
 come to the rights of that story; in the 
 course of a few days Scotland Yard will 
 no doubt have reckoned this gentleman up 
 for us ; but, as I told you before, as for bis 
 being my heir, why I never even heard of 
 the fellow before. He may have a right to 
 the name of Madingley, but he is most 
 assuredly no connection of mine. You tell 
 me he is engaged to a girl in this town, a 
 daughter of that banker fellow who called 
 upon me. I don't mean to see him, but I 
 shall certainly before I leave Tunnleton let 
 him know that his intended son-in-law is 
 flying false colours. But in the meanwhile,
 
 JOHN MADINGLEY. Ill 
 
 Shrewstcr, not a word to any one. I know 
 I can trust you.'' 
 
 " Yes, 1 know liow to keep my tongue 
 between my teeth, and now I'm going to 
 say good bye. You look tired, and will be 
 all the better for a snooze before dinner. 
 Good-bye." And with a warm pressure of 
 the hand the two old friends separated.
 
 112 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AT THE " BRISTOL" RESTAURANT. 
 
 If there was one man at Tunnleton who 
 felt uncomfortable about the position of 
 things it was Mr. Molecombe. His daughter 
 had heard several times from her fiancee, 
 but Richard Madingley always wound up 
 by regretting that the well-known dilatory 
 ways of solicitors still detained him in town. 
 That was nothing compared to a rebuff he 
 had received from John Madingley. Not 
 content with that gentleman's " not at
 
 AT THE " RRISTOL ' RESTAURANT. 113 
 
 home," he had thought fit to write to him 
 to explain Richard Madingley's relation to 
 his daughter, and the rector of Binffwoll's 
 reply had thrown the banker into a cold 
 perspiration. John Madingley had curtly 
 answered that his health precluded his re- 
 ceiving visitors, and that he had nothing 
 to say to Richard Madingley's matrimonial 
 arrangements. 
 
 A more uncomfortable answer it was 
 scarce possible to get from a man who 
 stood in loco parentis to that of a pro- 
 posed son-in-law. A second letter elicited 
 no answer whatever, and, though Mr. Mole- 
 combe as yet kept his own counsel, he was 
 nevertheless seriously discomposed about 
 the aspect of affairs. It was a puzzle 
 beyond his comprehension. His intended 
 son-in-law had vanished from Tunnleton 
 simultaneously with the advent of the rela- 
 tive from whom he professed to expect his 
 
 VOL. II. I
 
 114 A FALSE START. 
 
 heritage ; that might have been accident, 
 but it was singular that he should not return 
 nor apparently hav.e been aware of the 
 Yorkshire rector's coming. Then, again, 
 John Madingley's note, and the ground he 
 had apparently taken up, were by no means 
 reassuring. Elderly gentlemen invariably 
 expected to be consulted and deferred to 
 about their heirs' matrimonial intentions, 
 more especially when such elderly gentle- 
 men's property was entirely at their own 
 disposal. Mr. Madingley apparently did 
 not. One solution only of this was pos- 
 sible to the banker's mind, namely, that 
 the rector of Bingwell most thoroughly 
 disapproved of the whole affair and intended 
 to countenance it as little as might be. 
 This would account for Dick Madingley's 
 apparent embarrassment about the settle- 
 ments. There were difficulties probably 
 between himself and his uncle's lawyers,
 
 AT THE "BRISTOL'' RESTAURANT. 115 
 
 for, despite the fact that Richard Madingley 
 had only given himself out as a cousin of 
 the well - known Yorkshire " Squarson." 
 Tunnleton, from the moment they had 
 grasped the fact (rather late in the day) 
 that the owner of Bingwell was to some 
 extent a man of moneyed notability, had in- 
 sisted on that relationship, and their disgust 
 when this clergyman of the north declined 
 to appear and be worshipped was consider- 
 able. Still, let Tunnleton think what it 
 liked, there were two points which there 
 was no getting over. The Reverend John 
 Madingley adhered strictly to his deter- 
 mination to see nobody — while, curiously 
 enough, his relative and heir was apparently 
 unable to return from London. Mr. Mole- 
 combe was much too prudent to show any 
 concern about this, but at the same time 
 both he and his family felt extremely un- 
 comfortable about the turn things had taken. 
 
 i 2
 
 11G A FALSE START. 
 
 Edith Molecombe, indeed, shrank as far as 
 possible from receiving visitors of any sort. 
 She could say with truth that she heard 
 nearly every other day from her fiance — - 
 that his letters were dated from the Bristol 
 Hotel, but that he was still detained in 
 London by those bothering lawyers ; all 
 very well this on the surface, but Mr. Mole- 
 combe could not but see that within such 
 easy distance from town as Tunnleton was 
 it was very possible for an enamoured 
 young man to run down for a day or so 
 to see his sweetheart, more especially when 
 such an opportunity of presenting his bride- 
 elect to the man who stood to him in 
 place of a father had occurred. It would 
 almost seem as if John Madingley had run 
 down to Tunnleton for that express pur- 
 pose, and yet Richard seemed to have dis- 
 appeared as if to controvert it. 
 
 Could Mr. Molecombe have looked in at
 
 AT THE "BRISTOL" RESTAURANT. 117 
 
 the Bristol Restaurant one evening, his eyes 
 might not only have been opened, but have 
 been fetched pretty nearly out of his head. 
 Trifling over his dessert with a still un- 
 finished bottle of dry champagne at his right 
 hand, was a slight, wiry, dark-faced, clean- 
 shaven man, all owing himself only the smallest 
 modicum of mutton-chop whisker. A man 
 about whose age it was hopeless to conjec- 
 ture. He might be either prematurely old 
 or extraordinarily young for his time of life, 
 but he was at all events eating the best hot- 
 house peaches and drinking the best Brut 
 brand the Bristol could furnish, with a non- 
 chalance that betokened the most perfect 
 indifference to the amount of his dinner-bill. 
 While he was leisurely picking his teeth, a 
 man clothed in faultless evening attire, with 
 immaculate white tie, who had been apparently 
 so far condescendingly superintending the
 
 US A PALSE START. 
 
 other waiters, approached his table with a 
 deferential how and said, 
 
 " I hope, Mr. Pick, I hope your dinner 
 has been satisfactory." 
 
 " Hallo Dick ! thought you had made 
 your pile and started something of this kind 
 on your own account." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Pick, I did get a tidy lot 
 together, and I undoubtedly had a very 
 good time last year, still I did not think it 
 quite good enough to cut this place ; my 
 berth here, as you know, is an exceedingly 
 good one ; they are excessively liberal in the 
 matter of leave, in fact really three days a 
 week is as much supervision as they demand 
 from me. I have been in the country a bit 
 for the benefit of my health." 
 
 Mr. Pick received this statement with a 
 low whistle and a closure of the left eye 
 that might have been deemed almost insult- 
 ing by sensitive people.
 
 AT THE " BRISTOL " RESTAURANT. 119 
 
 Richard Madingley continued in the 
 same unmoved tone, 
 
 lt Things haven't been quite so rosy this 
 season so far ; you have always been very 
 good to me, Mr. Pick, and I thought 1 could 
 rely upon you thoroughly for information 
 about the North Country Stables." 
 • " So you can, Dick, you have always 
 known all I know." 
 
 " What about this ' Wandering Nun,' then? 
 You never gave me a hint about her, Mr. 
 Pick." 
 
 " No," replied the saturnine gentleman 
 irritably. " Dash it, how could I ? Those 
 cursed Kilournes kept the thing so con- 
 foundedly dark that there wasn't a soul in 
 the north knew anything about her except 
 perhaps old Madingley and one or two of 
 his cronies. They never let you know, 
 and old Kilburne and his son think a deal 
 before they lay out a pony between 'em, but
 
 120 A FALSE START. 
 
 they have got a flyer, no mistake about it. 
 I have learnt it much too late to collar the 
 loaf ; but you had better follow my lead and 
 go in for the crumbs." 
 
 " My expenses have been very heavy this 
 season, Mr. Pick.'' 
 
 " Your expenses ! " retorted the other 
 contemptuously, "your expenses be damned ! 
 Look here, Dick Bushman : I promised your 
 mother to give you a hand, as far as I could, 
 before she died, and I've done it. I'm not 
 particular. No man who makes the turf his 
 vocation can afford to be mealy-mouthed, 
 but you certainly have no call to heave 
 rocks at me. I got you your appointment 
 here, better than that of most clerks in 
 government offices as far as money and 
 work goes: I've given you the office when- 
 ever I've been in the swim myself, and you 
 come here whining to me about your ex- 
 penses and not being advertised of the
 
 AT THE " BRISTOL " RESTAURANT, 121 
 
 Wandering Nun. D n it, sir, live on 
 
 the two pounds a week you will probably 
 command if they turn you off here without 
 a character, and don't trouble me any more ! ' 
 
 " Pray don't mistake me, Mr. Pick. If 
 you would allow me to conduct you to a 
 private room while I explain, and con- 
 descend to accept a glass of champagne and 
 a cigar from me, you will be quite satisfied." 
 
 u Well, Dick, I could do another pint of 
 ' pop ' and a tidy cigar. You ain't a fool, 
 and if you don't rough me up the wrong 
 way I'm good to stand to you still, but that 
 Wandering Nun is a devilish sore subject ; 
 there hasn't been such a good thing as that 
 come out of Yorkshire in my time without 
 my knowing all about it : but the Kilburnes, 
 having no real speculators connected with 
 them, had no trouble about keeping this 
 dark ; a few hundreds would represent the 
 investments of Mr. Brooks, his Mends and
 
 122 A FALSE START. 
 
 his trainer. But come along and you shall 
 tell me what you've been doing." 
 
 Mr. Pick, now a notable member of the 
 ring, had begun life as a footman. The 
 antecedents of the knights of the pencil 
 are mysterious as those of the members of 
 the Stock Exchange ; they have their ascen- 
 sion, culmination, and decline, their zenith 
 and their nadir ; comet-like they cross the 
 sky and disappear into the obscurity of 
 poverty or sparkle with the temporary 
 effulgence of wealth. Mr. Peck at present 
 gravitated between these points, but he was 
 a philosopher, and, when he could not afford 
 the tariff of the Bristol, was content with a 
 cut off the joint at a luncheon-bar, though, 
 like most of his vocation, he always lived 
 luxuriously when in feather. 
 
 Dick led the way to a snug, disengaged 
 dining-room, in which one of his subordi-
 
 AT THE " BRISTOL " RESTAURANT. 123 
 
 nates was already busy manipulating the 
 cork of a champagne bottle. 
 
 "Well, I haven't seen much of you 
 lately," remarked Mr. Pick, as he sipped 
 his wine with infinite gusto; " what have 
 you been doing ? " 
 
 " I've been doing the swell and setting 
 up as a gentleman of property : never mind 
 where, but not very far from town." 
 
 " Yes, you're good at that game, as I 
 know from experience ; you can do the 
 pretty and put the side on, Dick, so as to 
 pass for the real article, unless the liquor 
 gets the best of you, and then, like the 
 rest of us, you are apt to display the weak- 
 nesses of your past ; you've a command of 
 strong language which you're a little dis- 
 posed to make use of when you're sprung — 
 that's injudicious. Well, did you have a 
 good time ? Did you make it pay ? ' 
 
 ' ' Not quite : but if I could raise a few hun-
 
 124 A FALSE START. 
 
 dreds more I should have made a good thing 
 of it. I was fairly established as one of the 
 swells of the place and engaged to the 
 daughter of the leading banker there." 
 
 " What, you, to a real lady, with 
 money ? " 
 
 " Just so?" rejoined Dick rather sharply ; 
 " there's nothing very wonderful in that ; 
 I'm not bad-looking, you know ; they all 
 think I'm comfortably off and that I'm a 
 gentleman." 
 
 The other ejected a cloud of tobacco- 
 smoke, and then, with a significant wink, 
 observed, 
 
 "Right you are; a real out-and-outer; 
 but you've a past, Master Dick, that respect- 
 able people would look upon as somewhat 
 dubious." 
 
 " When the respectable people don't know 
 it that matters little," replied Dick Mading- 
 Aey ; " but I wanted to see you, and that is
 
 AT THE "BRISTOL" RESTAURANT. 125 
 
 the principal reason that brought me to 
 London." 
 
 " Campaign not been profitable as yet, 
 eh ? " rejoined Mr. Pick. 
 
 " No, but just on the point of becoming 
 so." 
 
 " Like 'em all, like 'em all," replied the 
 bookmaker softly. "Like myself, like the 
 beggars who are always on the verge of dis- 
 covering how to make gold or diamonds, or 
 their fortune. We're always pounded for 
 that other five hundred pounds or so. If we 
 had had that odd hundred or so to plunge 
 with, what a lot of us would be driving in 
 carriages instead of wearing our soles out. 
 The end of your moving history is, you want 
 money and can I find it ? " 
 
 Dick nodded. He knew his man, and, 
 though Mr. Pick might philosophise himself, 
 words were quite wasted upon him as a 
 matter of business. He would never have
 
 126 A FALSE START 
 
 attained the very tolerable turf position lie 
 held had he not been both hard-headed and 
 practical. The advancing of a little money 
 where he saw his way to tolerable security, 
 for exorbitant interest, was quite within his 
 province. 
 
 "You know I have been doing tolerably 
 well, or you wouldn't see me here ; but you 
 also know I'm the last man to go into a 
 speculation blindfold. You'll have to show 
 your hand, my boy." 
 
 " And that is none so easy to do. You 
 would want to know what the young lady's 
 fortune was to be." 
 
 " Naturally. I've to recover my money 
 and be liberally recompensed for the accom- 
 modation," rejoined Mr. Pick gravely. 
 
 "That's just the rub. My proposed 
 father-in-law is somewhat anxious to do the 
 same thing with regard to myself."
 
 AT THE ei BRISTOL " RESTAURANT. 127 
 
 The bookmaker gave vent to a low 
 whistle. 
 
 " Under those circumstances," he said, at 
 last, " I think I may say this match won't 
 come off. At all events, it don't sound 
 good enough for this child to risk money 
 on." 
 
 , " It will come off fast enough if I am not 
 stranded for a few hundreds of ready coin. 
 They all believe down there I'm of a good 
 Yorkshire family, and heir to a nice pro- 
 perty." 
 
 " A rather credulous population down 
 there, wherever it is," remarked Mr. Pick, 
 with a sneer. " And now, before we go any 
 further, where is it ? " 
 
 " Time enough for you to know when you 
 tell me you're good to advance ine four or 
 five hundred to carry on the war." 
 
 "It is no use, Dick ; when those parlia- 
 ment swells come to the house for supplies,
 
 128 A FALSE START. 
 
 they have to condescend to particulars, and 
 so will you before I part with a ' mag.' 
 
 " I must have the money or chuck the 
 tiling- up," replied Dick Madingley. " You 
 would have to know it sooner or later, and, 
 as I can't well play the game without a con- 
 federate, perhaps the sooner I take you into 
 my confidence the better. I am down at 
 Tunnleton, and living in one of the best 
 bachelor residences in the town." 
 
 11 1 say, isn't that risky? Weren't you 
 afraid of being spotted ? " 
 
 " No, the Bristol is a little above Tunnle- 
 ton form, and, as for racing, well, Tunnleton 
 talks a good deal about it, but, bar Epsom, 
 don't know its way to a race-course." 
 
 "Any crumbs to be picked up there?" 
 inquired Mr. Pick. 
 
 " No ; it's not worth while exposing your 
 game at sixpenny pool, nor your knowledge 
 of whist at shilling points — besides it would
 
 AT THE " BRISTOL " RESTAURANT. 120 
 
 have been all against the game I was play- 
 ing to be counted anything but a fair per- 
 former in those lines." 
 
 " Good, very good ! " remarked the book- 
 maker. " There's nothing like understand- 
 ing when one's little talents are best kept in 
 the background. Or else, Dick, amongst 
 yokels, you're likely to do well at those 
 amusements.'' 
 
 " Well, you agree with me," replied the 
 other impatiently ; "fishing for gudgeon is 
 waste of time when there are salmon in the 
 pool. Will you stand to me ? " 
 
 " I'll come down and have a look at the 
 tiling, anyway. You can put me up for a 
 day or two ? " 
 
 " I'll put you up for a week or two, if you 
 will make up as an old-fashioned sporting 
 pastor and call yourself my uncle." 
 
 " What, the fellow with the property in 
 Yorkshire ? " exclaimed Mr. Pick. 
 
 VOL. II. K
 
 130 A FALSE START. 
 
 (i That's it. I want you to represent old 
 John Madingley of Bingwell. He's an old 
 man who never goes out of his own county, 
 and they know nothing about him in 
 Tunnleton." 
 
 " Never goes out of Yorkshire, don't he ? 
 By Heavens, Dick ! I saw him at Goodwood 
 last week. The old man came all the 
 way to see his Wandering Nun win the 
 ' Ham.' "
 
 131 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MR. MOLECOMBE GETS UNEASY. 
 
 Me. Pick listened to the further evolution 
 of Richard Madingley's scheme with consi- 
 derable interest, but not altogether with en- 
 thusiasm. No man keener than him to turn 
 five hundred pounds into a thousand in a 
 few weeks, and that he computed was about 
 the price he ought to receive for his assist- 
 ance, pecuniarily and otherwise. But then 
 Mr. Pick had a wholesome dread of placing 
 
 himself within the clutches of the law, and 
 
 k2
 
 132 A FALSE START. 
 
 he had a vague idea that the personation of 
 a well-known personage would come under 
 the head of fraud or conspiracy, or some- 
 thing of that sort. Moral scruples the 
 bookmaker had none, still he had escaped 
 once or twice by the skin of his teeth ; had 
 indeed once left the dock under the lash of 
 the judge's tongue, and had to listen to the 
 regrets of that functionary that his wrong- 
 doing had been so skilfully planned as to 
 just defeat the administration of justice. 
 No, Mr. Pick did not approve of the bill of fare 
 at Millbank. No, the bookmaker, although 
 he had embarked on some very risky enter- 
 prises in his early career, was too substantial 
 a man now not to weigh possible results, 
 however profitable the game might appear 
 to be, and anything that looked like ending 
 in a law-court he shrank from. He was not 
 quite clear whether the personation of some- 
 body else was not an indictable offence. He
 
 MR. MOLECOMBE GETS UNEASY. 133 
 
 rather thought it was, he had hazy ideas of 
 " conspiracy with intent to defraud," being 
 a transgression that carried severe pains and 
 penalties. His mouth watered at the idea 
 of the sum lie might demand for his help, 
 but he had no idea of burning his fingers in 
 pulling Dick's chestnuts out of the fire. 
 
 "I've been thinking this out," he said, 
 slowly, after a silence of some moments, which 
 the other had taken care not to interrupt. 
 " It's rather a risky business, and if I go 
 into it you'll have to pay pretty smartly for 
 my help. I tell you what I'll do. I'll come 
 down and look at it, and that's as much as 
 I'll promise just now. If I fancy the spec, 
 well and good, if not, there's no harm done." 
 
 "You will come back with me to-morrow; 
 remember it is important that I should pro- 
 duce the relation from whom 1 have expec- 
 tations as soon as may be. I never saw 
 John Madingley, but you have, and well
 
 134 A FALSE START. 
 
 know the sort of line to take up— country 
 parson with sporting tastes." 
 
 " I can't personate him to any body who 
 has ever seen him," replied Mr. Pick, " but 
 the chances are nobody in Tunnleton ever 
 has. I'll be ready to-morrow ; you wire 
 and order dinner," and, so saying, the book- 
 maker rose to his feet and, nodding good- 
 night, left the room. 
 
 Could the precious pair have overheard a 
 conversation at Tunnleton, the going down 
 there would have been deemed inexpedient 
 by both of them. 
 
 "No, Madingley, 1 ran up to town and 
 did what you wished, but you had better, at 
 present, let things take their course. At all 
 events there is nothing to be done with 
 your namesake till he returns. They know 
 nothing about this young gentleman at 
 Scotland Yard, and pooh-poohed the whole 
 business. Said that he very likely had a
 
 MR. MOLECOMBE GETS UNEASY. 135 
 
 right to the name, and had only exag- 
 gerated in claiming relationship with you. 
 In short," concluded General Shrewster, 
 " they decline to interfere at present in any 
 way, and I suppose they're right. This 
 fellow would probably declare he only 
 claimed to be a distant connection of yours, 
 and that the rest was merely Tunnleton 
 gossip." 
 
 "Yes," replied John Madingley, "it is 
 always open to a man to claim that sort of 
 kinship, and he does himself little harm 
 even if the other side disavow it." 
 
 " Yes, a cool hand like this young gentle- 
 man will get out of it easily enough. He 
 does not want money apparently, and is 
 certainly not deficient in cheek." 
 
 " I know the sort," rejoined Madingley, 
 laughing, ' ' plenty of bounce and swagger 
 till they're collared. We'll leave the fellow 
 alone, and only give Mr. Molecombe a hint
 
 13G A FALSE START. 
 
 in case his daughter's marriage with my 
 namesake becomes imminent. It will be 
 for him then to discover whether Mr. 
 Richard Madingley is sailing under false 
 colours or not." 
 
 " Yes," replied Shrewster, with a quiet 
 smile," and it will be a terrible shock to 
 Tunnleton should he turn out to be a rank 
 impostor." 
 
 " Yes," rejoined the master of Bingwell, 
 "the idea that he has been regularly had 
 rouses the bile of the Yorkshireman, and I 
 don't suppose the southerners take it more 
 kindly." 
 
 So, it having been settled between them 
 that for the present they would merely 
 watch the course of events, neither John 
 Madingley nor his old friend troubled them- 
 selves any more for the present about the 
 doings of this new star that had suddenly 
 risen above the town horizon.
 
 MR. MOLECOMBE GETS UNEASY. 137 
 
 But if they did not trouble themselves 
 about Dick Madingley's proceedings Tunnle- 
 ton did ; and the Prauns and the Maddoxes 
 and the Torkeslys shook their heads, and 
 agreed that there was something- excessively 
 odd in the newly-engaged man's persistent 
 absence. Mr. Pick had suddenly found 
 that his own legitimate business would 
 detain him some time longer in London, and 
 with the somewhat hazardous game that 
 Richard Madingle)" was playing he did not 
 consider it advisable to re- appear upon the 
 scene until his pockets were replenished. 
 On that point Mr. Pick was very decided — 
 he would advance no money until, as he 
 expressed it, he had been "to look at the 
 speculation." 
 
 Mrs. Metddox said boldly that the young 
 men had changed a good deal since her 
 time ; that if Maddox had treated her in 
 such nonchalant fashion after they were
 
 138 A FALSE START. 
 
 engaged he would very soon have " had 
 the mitten." 
 
 Mrs. Praun opined that there was no 
 standing the youth of the present day, 
 they really seemed to expect the young 
 ladies to do all the love-making, to 
 which her irascible husband responded, 
 "And by gad, madam, they are not 
 disaj^pointed," which produced one of those 
 Mediterranean squalls wont to disturb the 
 even tenour of the Prauns' domestic life — 
 a hot-tempered couple who not only in- 
 dulged in volcanic explosions at home but 
 combined in volcanic irruptions abroad, and 
 were a terror and — metaphorically — a very 
 lava -flood to any weak-kneed society they 
 might get into. As for the Maddoxes, they 
 never boiled, but persistently gurgled, like 
 tlio steady, monotonous wash of the sea 
 against the shore ; dangerous in their very 
 persistency in any view they might have
 
 MR. MOLEOOMBE GETS UNEASY. 139 
 
 taken up. But there was one very curious 
 thing in all this which wrought very mucn 
 to the soi-disant Richard Madingley's ad- 
 vantage. Influenced considerably by their 
 enmity to Maurice Enderby, still further 
 stimulated by the Reverend John Madingley 
 declining to make their acquaintance, the 
 two generals gradually worked themselves 
 into the belief that John Madingley was 
 an impostor. 
 
 It's astonishing how it is possible to per- 
 suade one's self to a belief in accordance 
 with one's wishes, albeit we have no facts 
 whatever to justify that opinion, and the 
 Maddoxes and the Prauns were not at all 
 people to keep what they thought to them- 
 selves. The consequence of all this was, 
 that, far from suspicion falling upon the 
 impostor, there was a lurking misgiving 
 that the Reverend John Madingley was not 
 what he represented himself to be ; in the
 
 140 A FALSE START. 
 
 eyes of the Prauns and the Madcloxes a 
 clergyman like Maurice Enderby, who 
 "dabbled in horse-racing," would be capable 
 of almost anything ; they would hardly 
 have hesitated at almost openly insinuating 
 that the whole thing was a fraud but for 
 one fact ; there was no getting over that : 
 General Shrewster knew and visited the 
 Reverend Mr. Madingley, and he was not 
 only above suspicion but carried far too 
 many guns to be assailed with impunity; 
 he might have been imposed upon, but it 
 was not likely, nor did even General Praun 
 feel that he should care about hinting that 
 to him. Shrewster's social position was 
 beyond dispute, and he had more than once 
 shown that he could say very bitter things 
 when provoked. Tunnleton had long ago 
 come to the conclusion that Shrewster was 
 a man to be let alone. 
 
 But a man who was made wonderfully
 
 MR. MOLECOMBE GETS UNEASY. 141 
 
 uneasy by all these varied rumours was Mr. 
 Molecombe. He was pledged to give his 
 daughter to this young man Richard Mading- 
 ley. Here was his kinsman, from whom, 
 according to his own account, he expected to 
 inherit this Yorkshire property, and that 
 kinsman firmly but politely refused to see 
 Mr. Molecombe ; although the banker had 
 written and explained the peculiar relations 
 under which he stood to Richard Madingley, 
 the recluse of Bingwell, although actually 
 residing in Tunnleton, kept his doors reso- 
 lutely closed upon him. Then these sinister 
 rumours reached his ears that the Rev. John 
 Madingley was an impostor, and this, with 
 the prolonged absence of his son-in-law that 
 was to be, still further increased the banker's 
 uneasiness. It was difficult for him to <>'et 
 — not at the real state of things, but even at 
 what people thought ; it was not likely that 
 men like Generals Praun and Maddox would
 
 li-2 A FALSE START. 
 
 confide their suspicions to him, and a whole- 
 some respect for General Shrewster made them 
 rather shy of expressing their opinion publicly. 
 The banker was much attached to his child, 
 and that he should feel uncomfortable about 
 her engagement was only natural, and there 
 could be no doubt about it, that just at pre- 
 sent Mr. Richard Madingley's real status 
 was under suspicion. General Shrewster was 
 the only man behind the scenes, for. John 
 Madingley had not even confided to the 
 Enderbys that he knew nothing whatever 
 of this young gentleman who had thought 
 proper to claim kinship with him. Shrewster 
 Mas, what he would have termed, watching 
 the match with great interest. "Madingley's 
 quite right,"' he would mutter to himself, 
 "in waiting for this impostor to show his 
 hand; unless he has heard of John Mading- 
 ley's arrival, and got scared, he is bound 
 to make the first move, and then it will be a
 
 ME. MOLECOMBE GETS UNEASY. 143 
 
 case of checkmate almost immediately. The 
 Scotland Yard people are right ; we must 
 allow this young gentleman a little more 
 rope in order to make his discomfiture a 
 certainty. However, if he should come back 
 to Tunnleton there will be no doubt about 
 that, and in any case it is clearly John 
 Madingley's duty to interfere, and prevent 
 Edith Molecombe being married to this 
 man. 
 
 Mr. Pick's business being at length 
 brought to a conclusion, it was settled that 
 he should run down to Tunnleton that even- 
 ing in the assumed character of Dick's uncle, 
 and see what he thought of things. Mading- 
 ley at once telegraphed to his servants to 
 have dinner and a spare bed made ready, 
 and a little before six he and Mr. Pick 
 settled them, solves comfortably in a first- 
 class carriage and started for their destina- 
 tion.
 
 114 A FALSE START. 
 
 There was only one other passenger, and 
 he was apparently absorbed in his cigar and 
 evening paper. Dick cast one long keen 
 glance at him, and then, coming to the con- 
 clusion that he had never seen the stranger 
 before, began conversing in a desultory way 
 about the past Ascot and Goodwood. Bob 
 Grafton, for he was the stranger, pricked up 
 his ears, as he always did when the talk ran 
 in that groove, but refrained from joining in 
 it. Suddenly he became haunted with the 
 idea that he had met the elder of his com- 
 panions before, and yet for the life of him 
 he could not recollect where or who he was. 
 The man was like a dim shadow of the 
 past connected in Grafton's mind with some 
 unpleasant incident. Ever and anon he 
 stole furtive glances over his paper at Mr. 
 Pick, but it was of no use ; the bookmaker was 
 to him like the blurred photograph of some
 
 MR. MOLECOMBE GETS UNEASY. 145 
 
 one lie had known, but now failed to re- 
 cognise. 
 
 On arrival at Tunnleton Bob got out, for 
 he was on his way to Bridge Court, and 
 purposed taking a fly from the station to 
 convey him thither. Rather to his astonish- 
 ment his fellow-travellers followed his ex- 
 ample, and as they drove off Grafton asked 
 the porter, who was busied with his luggage, 
 whether he knew them. 
 
 "The young un's Mr. Madingley, sir, but 
 I never saw the other gentleman before." 
 
 " Madingley ! " exclaimed Grafton, as he 
 jumped into his fly. '• I have it — that's the 
 fellow who found out John Madingley's mare 
 was lame at Epsom, and got such a lot of 
 money out of her for the Oaks — Pick, the 
 bookmaker, and if all that was said about 
 it was true, nobody was more likely to have 
 early information inasmuch as he was accused 
 
 VOL. n. L
 
 146 A FALSE START. 
 
 of causing' it. What can have brought that 
 precious scoundrel to Tunnleton ? " 
 
 " All right, Phillips ; here we are," said 
 Dick Madingley, as his well-trained servant 
 opened the door the moment the fly stopped. 
 Take my uncle's things up to his room ; 
 dinner in a quarter of an hour ; and where 
 have you put my letters ? " 
 
 "You will find them on the mantel-piece 
 in the drawing-room, sir," and as he spoke 
 Dick fancied Mr. Phillips eyed Mr. Pick 
 with no little surprise and curiosity. But 
 apparently the man saw he was observed, 
 for he turned hastily away and disappeared 
 to attend to his duties. 
 
 " All fancy, I suppose," muttered Dick, 
 " there's nothing remarkable in my having 
 an uncle. Most people have till stricken in 
 years, and yet somehow that beggar Phillips 
 struck me as looking astonished. Now for 
 my letters : hum, small tradesmen's accounts,
 
 MR. MOLECOMBE GETS UNEASY. 147 
 
 a tea at the Torkeslys, will I join a house- 
 dinner at the club, an invitation or two for 
 garden-parties, and, hum ! a note from my 
 papa-in-law as is to be. ' Will I call as soon 
 as I return ? is most anxious to see me on a 
 matter of great importance.' Now what 
 maggot has he got in his head. However, I 
 don't mean to see him to-night, to-morrow 
 will do for him. Dinner and a bottle of 
 wine's the first thing, anyway." 
 
 During dinner young Madingley kept up 
 the farce and was extremely civil to his 
 apochryphal uncle. Phillips's face gave no 
 sign, though nothing escaped his keen eyes, 
 and some of Mr. Pick's gancheries might 
 have put a less thoroughly trained servant 
 off his balance ; that gentleman, indeed, was 
 not above harpooning anything he fancied 
 with his own fork, and utterly ignored salt- 
 spoons while his knife was in his hand, 
 
 l2
 
 148 A FALSE START. 
 
 plunging the blade in freely when wanting 
 that condiment. The meal over, and Mr. 
 Pick having pronounced it a very pretty 
 notion of a feed, the book-maker settled 
 down to a cigar and brandy and water. 
 Champagne he understood, but the best of 
 claret had no attractions for him. 
 
 " Look here, old man," said Dick, " you've 
 got all you want in the way of tobacco, &c. 
 and there's books of all sorts on those 
 shelves. I just want to slip down to the 
 club for an hour, and hear what's been going 
 on while I was away. Necessary, you see, 
 in the rather ticklish game I'm playing to 
 have the gossip of the place at my finger- 
 ends." 
 
 " Quite right. Don't you mind me. I've 
 a shrewd suspicion you're out of your depth 
 already. You can't keep too close an eye 
 on the current. Let it once turn against 
 \ on, and the sooner you slope the better."
 
 MR. MOLECOMBE GETS UNP:ASY. 149 
 
 " You're right. Shall see you when I 
 come back ; ' : and, with a nod to his friend, 
 Dick took up his hat and sallied out into 
 the night-air.
 
 150 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE GAME ABOUT UP. 
 
 Mr. Pick, left to his own reflections, began 
 in his parlance to reckon up the trumps in 
 their hand. " Yes, this sort of crib and 
 turn-out looks like money, and as for Dick's 
 name he's always gone under that of Ma- 
 dingley, and that he's no relation to old John 
 is no fault of his. He's quite willing to be- 
 long to the family if they'll let him. It was 
 a very good plant to come down here and look 
 out for a wife with money, and, according
 
 THE GAME ABOUT UP. 151 
 
 to Dick, it looks like coming off if he can 
 carry on a little longer. But there's one 
 very awkward corner to get round. These 
 swells always go in for what they call settle- 
 ments — means, I suppose, putting down 
 your picture cards and showing what money 
 you've got and where you keep it. Now 
 Dick must come to grief over that. He's 
 only one chance, to run away with the girl 
 and trust to the old man coming round after- 
 wards. It's a risky game, and I shall charge 
 pretty high for what I put into it." 
 
 Then Mr. Pick selected a novel from the 
 book-case and sat down to enjoy for the 
 twentieth time the account of the great 
 "Oriel" trial in Digby Grand; for, like 
 most men, Mr. Pick enjoyed the description 
 of life and scenes within his own immediate 
 experience. But he had not been reading 
 long when the opening of the house-door 
 announced the return of Dick Madingley.
 
 152 A FALSE START. 
 
 "It's all U P," exclaimed that worthy; 
 u and the sooner you clear out of Tunnleton 
 the better." 
 
 " Why, what has happened?' inquired 
 Mr. Pick. 
 
 "John Madingley is here, and has been 
 for the last week. All Tunnleton knows 
 it." 
 
 "Whew!" whistled Mr. Pick. "Yes, 
 you're right — you are knocked out of time. 
 Now the next thing is to get out as easy 
 as we can." 
 
 " I don't know about easy,"" replied Dick. 
 " I should think we had better get out as 
 quick as we can." 
 
 " Now, look here, young man," replied 
 Mr. Pick, impressively; "you can't be said 
 to have my experience of tight places, and 
 there's many an awkward circumstance in 
 a man's career may be got over if he'll only 
 just brass it out ; now, I have no intention
 
 THE GAME ABOUT UP. 153 
 
 of putting myself in a bustle, I can tell 
 you." 
 
 " Why, good gracious ! ' exclaimed Dick; 
 " you come down here as John Madingley, 
 and here's the very man himself in the 
 town, what the deuce are you thinking of ? ' : 
 
 " Never mind what I came down for ; 
 no one has heard you call me anything but 
 ' uncle ' as yet. Can't you have an uncle 
 on your mother's side as well as your 
 father's ? Bless you, my boy, I'm your 
 Uncle Popkins, or anything else you like 
 to call me — bar Madingley — as for that 
 ' uncle,' you must stick to it that they mis- 
 understood vou." 
 
 " But you don't suppose that will satisfy 
 old Molecombe, do you ? ' replied Dick. 
 
 " No ; nor that you will many his 
 daughter," retorted the book-maker. 
 
 " I dou't know about that," replied Dick, 
 doggedly. " If I am not mistaken, Edith
 
 154 A FALSE START. 
 
 is really fond of me, and when that is the 
 case a girl don't throw you over just 
 because her father says * no.' " 
 
 " Ah ! then you do think that probable ? " 
 " Never had a doubt about it," rejoined 
 Dick, sententiously; " when it came to the 
 settlements it was hardly likely that any 
 hankey-pankey work you or I could manage 
 would blind a man of business like Mole- 
 combe. No, I'll take your advice, and play 
 the game out. 1 shall have to see Mole- 
 combo to-morrow, and no doubt get my 
 dismissal when I disclaim all connexion with 
 John Madingley." 
 
 "Good," said Mr. Pick, sententiously; 
 "it comes exactly to what I reckoned it up 
 at when you were out. Run away with the 
 girl, if you can, and trust to the stony- 
 hearted father relenting afterwards. I don't 
 mean putting much money into the business, 
 I tell you, but I'll stay with you a week,
 
 THE GAME ABOUT UP. 155 
 
 and find you enough to carry on for a month 
 on the old terms ; if it don't come off in 
 that time, you had better give it up. And 
 now, my boy, I'm off to bed." And so 
 saying, Mr. Pick lit his bedroom candle, 
 and nodded good-night to his companion. 
 
 Dick Madingley sat lost in thought for 
 some few minutes after the book-maker's 
 departure. He possessed considerable ex- 
 perience of how far an off-hand manner, 
 unlimited assurance, and the possession of 
 ready money, will impose upon society. 
 He was utterly unprincipled, and had for 
 some time come to the conclusion that his 
 first stepping-stone to fortune was to marry 
 money. He liked Edith Molecombe, but, 
 nice-looking girl though she was, he, never- 
 theless, was no whit in love with her. The 
 question was, whether the speculation was 
 good enough. The banker must have 
 money, and, storm and rave though he
 
 156 A FALSE START. 
 
 might at the outset, yet when the thing 
 was irrevocable he could not but forgive 
 his only child. As for his past, Dick 
 thought there would be not much trouble 
 in burying that. It would be easy to ignore 
 his present situation, and one or two of like 
 character which he had previously held. 
 Fool ! as if the irrevocable past was not 
 always dogging man's footsteps, and, ob- 
 scure as his career may have been, rising 
 up against him in the days of his splendour. 
 It is no use ; a man who knew you when 
 you kept that grocery store in Islington 
 confronts you sooner or later, when you 
 soar to the glories of Cromwell Road. 
 
 However, this never crossed Dick's brain. 
 He saw no further, and it was very possible 
 to persuade Edith Molecombe to trust her- 
 self to him, and that, once married, her 
 father's forgiveness would be a mere matter 
 of time; and, with a firm determination to
 
 THE GAME ABOUT UT. 157 
 
 pursue his love-suit to the bitter end, Mr. 
 Madinglcy followed his friend's example. 
 
 The next morning Dick, strongly advised 
 by Mr. Pick, determined to take the bull by 
 the horns, and, to use that worthy's ex- 
 pression, u have it out with his guv'nor-in- 
 law " at once. 
 
 "Now, you know what you've got to 
 say," said Mr. Pick. "Say it, say it strong, 
 and then come the indignant dodge. 
 Kicked out you'll be ; that'll be the end of 
 the first move. If the young woman means 
 sticking to you, you'll know all about it 
 before the week's out. Now then, off you 
 go, and leave me to explore the beauties of 
 Tunnleton." 
 
 Dick Madingley was blessed with plenty 
 of nerve, and it was with the most unblush- 
 ing effrontery that he knocked at the 
 banker's door, and requested to see Mr. 
 Molccombe.
 
 158 A FALSE START. 
 
 He was informed that gentleman was out, 
 upon which Dick expressed great annoyance, 
 and, making his way to the drawing-room, 
 told the servant to let Miss Molecombe 
 know that he was waiting to see her. This 
 request the man very naturally complied 
 with, and, having shown Mr. Madingley into 
 the empty drawing-room, went off at once in 
 quest of his young mistress. 
 
 A very few minutes, and then the door 
 opened and Edith Molecombe sprang for- 
 ward to greet her lover. 
 
 " Oh, Dick ! '' she exclaimed, " what a 
 long time you have been away from me." 
 
 " Soothing to my vanity to think you 
 have found it so," he replied, "but I could 
 not get away before ; business arrangements 
 consequent on our marriage detained me ; 
 and you know, dearest, how slow lawyers 
 are about these sort of tilings. But, sit
 
 THE GAME ABOUT UP. 159 
 
 down, Edith, I want to have a little serious 
 talk with you." 
 
 "Yes," replied the girl, as she seated 
 herself on the sofa. "You haven't bad 
 news to tell me, have you, Dick ? " 
 
 " No, nothing very bad, though I must 
 own I'm not a little annoyed, and, if you 
 really care for me and will stick to me, I 
 shan't so much mind." 
 
 u Why you know I will, Dick. Have not 
 I promised ? ' she continued, almost in a 
 whisper, " and do you think I'd go back 
 from that promise ? " 
 
 "No, I think I can trust you," he replied, 
 "but during my absence a very awkward 
 misunderstanding has arisen it seems. Mr. 
 John Madingley — a well-known man up in 
 Yorkshire — has taken up his abode in 
 Tunnleton. Because his name happens to 
 be the same as mine, and because I rather 
 foolishly bragged of how good an uncle mine
 
 1G0 A FALSE START. 
 
 was to me, and what great expectations I had 
 from him, I find all the peoj:>le here have 
 jumped to the conclusion that this Mr. John 
 Madingley is that uncle." 
 
 "We certainly all thought you had said 
 so, and I think papa has called twice on him. 
 It seems he is a great invalid and sees 
 nobody, with the exception of General 
 Shrewster and the Enderbys." 
 
 Dick gave a slight start. " Odd ! " he 
 muttered. " Old Shrewster and that prig of 
 a parson are the two people in Tunnleton I 
 dislike most." 
 
 " Well, Edith," he continued aloud, " how 
 the misunderstanding arose I don't know — 
 1 certainly never meant to say that Mr. 
 John Madingley was my uncle. A very 
 distant connection, no doubt he is, but the 
 uncle to whom I owe everything is staying 
 with me now, and rejoices in the more 
 commonplace name of Dobson."
 
 THE GAME ABOUT UP. 161 
 
 Edith Molecombe said nothing for two or 
 three minutes. She felt quite certain that 
 Dick had, upon more than one occasion, said 
 positively that John Madingley of Bing- 
 well, Yorkshire, was his uncle. She knew 
 her lover was lying, but then he was her 
 lover, so she deliberately shut her eyes to 
 the truth, and determined to believe that she 
 was mistaken. 
 
 u I don't see much to be disturbed about 
 in all this. You will, of course, have to 
 explain it to papa." 
 
 "Exactly what I had hoped to do this 
 morning," he replied quickly ! " I only heard 
 of the rumour late last night, and came up 
 this morning both to see you and to set your 
 father right on this point." 
 
 "Papa may feel a little annoyed at having 
 fallen into a mistake — most people are —but 
 I don't know that it is one of very great 
 consequence." 
 
 VOL. II. M
 
 162 A FALSE START. 
 
 "All! Edith— Edith darling. Can't you 
 see," exclaimed Dick with well simulated 
 passion, " that your father gave you to me 
 under the misapprehension that I was heir 
 to a nice estate in Yorkshire ? When he 
 finds that I only expect to inherit a moix 
 moderate income, and that my uncle, though 
 as dear an old fellow as ever stepped, can 
 lay claim to no particular family, I am 
 afraid he will revoke his consent. Can I 
 depend on you, Edith, not to give me up 
 then, but to stand firm, and wait till time 
 shall soften his disappointment ? " 
 
 " Yes," she replied in clear resolute tones, 
 " I promised myself to you because I loved 
 you — of course we can't marry without some- 
 thing to live upon ; but you won't find me 
 grumble if we arc not quite so rich as 
 
 was expected." 
 
 "Thanks, my own brave girl," he replied, 
 
 as he bent down and kissed her, " now I
 
 THE GAME ABOUT UP. 163 
 
 feel I can trust implicitly in you, I have no 
 fears for the result, although I shall doubt- 
 less have to go through a stern probation as 
 best I may. And now I am sure you will 
 agree with me that the sooner I see your 
 father and put a stop to this absurd rumour 
 generally, the better." 
 
 " Yes," said Miss Molecombe, " it will be 
 best so. I don't think you do papa quite 
 justice. He may feel a little disappointed, 
 just at first, but he is not the man to go 
 back from his word on such slight grounds 
 as those.'' 
 
 " You have taken quite a load off my 
 breast ; and now I must be off ; " and, after 
 again embracing his jiancee, Dick Madingley 
 took his departure. 
 
 " Not a bad morning's work," he mused, 
 
 as he strolled leisurely back to Tunnleton, 
 
 for the banker's house, be it remembered, 
 
 stood a little way outside the town. " If 
 
 M 2
 
 164 A FALSE START. 
 
 Edith only sticks to me, and I think she will, 
 old Molecombe will have to give in at last. 
 It wouldn't do to talk to her about running 
 away just yet, but when I am presented 
 with "the key of the street" I shall be able to 
 harangue on domestic tyranny, and point 
 out that there is a period when parental 
 oppression justifies daughters taking their 
 lives into their own hands. It won't take 
 very long to arrive at that stage, either." 
 
 Could Dick have been present at a little 
 conversation in John Madingley's rooms, he 
 would have realised that his next interview 
 with Mr. Molecombe would probably be his 
 last. 
 
 "I think," said General Shrewster, "it's 
 time now, Madingley, for you to interfere. I 
 hear this precious namesake of yours re- 
 turned last night, and you really arc in 
 common justice bound to let Molecombe 
 know that he is no relation of yours. 7 '
 
 THE GAME ABOUT UP. 1G5 
 
 u I'm not quite clear I'm called upon to in- 
 terfere at all in the matter ; Mr. Molecombe 
 has thought proper to identify himself with 
 the faction here that are apparently en- 
 deavouring to make Tunnleton impossible for 
 Maurice and his wife to live in." 
 
 " I don't think that has anything to do 
 with it," interrupted Maurice. I can't alto- 
 gether blame Mr. Molecombe because he 
 has thought fit to credit malicious charges 
 brought against me ; but surely, sir, it is 
 your duty to unmask this young scoundrel, 
 and save Miss Molecombe from such a 
 terrible fate as her marriage with him would 
 be." 
 
 " You go a little too fast," replied John 
 Madingley, quietly. u Just bear in mind, 
 that, whatever we may think, all we know 
 positively is that he is no nephew of mine." 
 
 " Perfectly true," remarked Shrewster, 
 " but I agree with Enderby, that it is only
 
 166 A FALSE START. 
 
 right you should let Molecombe know that 
 fact at once." 
 
 Thus urged, John Madingley sat down 
 and wrote a brief note to the banker, in 
 which he said, " that, it having come to 
 his ears that a certain Mr. Richard Mading- 
 ley, whom he understood was engaged to be 
 married to Miss Molecombe, had stated that 
 he was nephew and heir to him (John 
 Madingley), he begged to inform Mr. Mole- 
 combe that the gentleman in question was no 
 relation, and that he had never heard 
 of his existence until he himself arrived in 
 Tunnleton some three weeks ago." 
 
 " There," he said, " I think that meets 
 the case, anyhow it is all I virtually know 
 of the matter, and Mr. Molecombe must do 
 as he thinks best on that knowledge." 
 
 " Oli ! that will be quite sufficient," cried 
 Maurice. u No father could dream of giving
 
 THE GAME AliOUT UP. IbT 
 
 his daughter to a man capable of uttering 
 such a gross falsehood as that." 
 
 " I hope you're right, Mr. Enderby," said 
 General Shrewster, " but, mark my words, 
 he is a precious cunning, plausible, young 
 gentleman, and I should not be the least 
 surprised if he carried off Miss Molecombe 
 after all. If he is the arrant adventurer I sus- 
 pect him to be, Edith Molecombe's money 
 is her great attraction in his eyes. And the 
 tenacity with which men of this class cling 
 to a purpose of this sort is marvellous," and 
 then the general took up his hat and de- 
 parted.
 
 168 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 FAMILY JARS. 
 
 Although Dick Madingley had failed to 
 see Mr. Molecombe he was not left long 
 in ignorance of that gentleman's decision ; 
 indeed, in the course of the day he received 
 two notes from the banker ; the first merely 
 requested him to call the next morning on 
 a matter of considerable importance, the 
 second informed him that there would be 
 no necessity to do so : that he, Mr. Mole- 
 combe, had received a communication from
 
 FAMILY JA11S. 169 
 
 the Reverend John Madingley not only 
 entirely repudiating him as a nephew, but 
 disowning any relationship) with him what- 
 ever. "As," continued the banker, "you 
 have persistently and distinctly always 
 referred me to your uncle, I need scarcely 
 say that my whole belief in your account 
 of yourself is shaken, and you cannoi be 
 surprised at my refusing to consent to any 
 engagement between my daughter and a 
 man about whose antecedents I know no- 
 thing, further than that he has represented 
 himself to me as the acknowledged heir of 
 a gentleman who had never even heard of 
 him until about a fortnight ago. You will 
 therefore understand that your engagement 
 to my daughter is at an end, as also is our 
 acquaintance," and then the banker wound 
 up formally with, he had li the honour to 
 be, &c." 
 
 But Dick Madingley was not going to
 
 170 A FALSE START. 
 
 take his dismissal quietly. He replied to 
 Mr. Molecombe's letter, and repeated the 
 same specious story of a misunderstanding 
 that he had detailed to Edith, pointed out 
 that the uncle from whom he really had 
 expectations, and to whom he owed every- 
 thing, was now staying with him, and that 
 if Mr. Molecoinbe would only consent to be 
 introduced to Mr. Dobson he would soe how 
 the mistake arose. 
 
 But the banker's reply was very short 
 and uncompromising ; he briefly pointed out 
 that Richard Madingley had several times 
 deliberately stated that John Madingley 
 was his uncle, a fact which that gentleman 
 emphatically denied. He could not refuse to 
 believe the latter on this point, and therefore 
 had no alternative but to regard Mr. Richard 
 Madingley as having wilfully misrepresented 
 his social position, and therefore begged to 
 decline any further intercourse with him.
 
 FAMILY JA11S. 171 
 
 a 
 
 Kicked out," 1 said Dick meditatively, 
 as he handed the letter to his Mentor; "well, 
 I expected that." 
 
 "Just so," replied Mr. Pick; "well, if 
 old Molecombe won't let you in at the front 
 door there's nothing for it but the young 
 lady should steal out at the back. Yes, 
 Master Dick, if you press the siege hard 
 enough you ought to persuade her to make 
 a bolt of it before a fortnight is out. How- 
 ever, I shan't be able to give you much 
 more of my society ; I have had my holiday 
 and must be off to York races on Monday." 
 
 It was evident to the precious pair that 
 Mr. Pick could be of no further assistance 
 in the prosecution of this sordid love-suit ; 
 that was for Dick to pursue alone. As has 
 been before said, he was of a bitter and 
 vindictive nature, and he felt that it would 
 afford him much satisfaction to laugh at the 
 banker's beard by carrying off his daughter
 
 172 A FALSE START. 
 
 in the face of the curt dismissal he had 
 received, and the fates were fighting for 
 him in a way which, though common-place, 
 would not have happened in the case of a 
 more judicious man than Mr. Molecombe. 
 It was a sore blow to the banker's pride to 
 think that all Tunnleton would be talking 
 of his daughter's engagement with one 
 Avhom he felt little doubt now was a mere 
 specious adventurer, and he was foolish 
 enough to visit his annoyance upon Edith. 
 He delighted in painting Dick Madingley's 
 conduct in the blackest terms. His daughter 
 stood up for her lover with much spirit ; she 
 had determined to believe Dick's own 
 version of the story, and shut her eyes to 
 what she knew to be the real state of the 
 case. She was very much in love, and what 
 girl under those circumstances would not 
 stand up for her lover, let his wrong-doing 
 be what it might ? "
 
 FAMILY JAltS. 173 
 
 There was much stormy converse with the 
 twain upon this point, with the usual result, 
 that Edith believed more strongly in her 
 lover than ever. 
 
 To open a clandestine correspondence 
 with Miss Molecombe was easy work for 
 Dick, who was personally acquainted with 
 all the dependants of the establishment, and 
 the female servant who would not assist in 
 the promotion of a love affair, more es- 
 pecially when liberally handselled, is rarely 
 met with. Dick's passionate notes quickly 
 found their way to their destination, and 
 that they contained entreaties for a rendez- 
 vous need scarcely be mentioned. There 
 were plenty of secluded walks around Tuunle- 
 ton, and in these long summer afternoons 
 there was no one to know of Edith Mole- 
 combe's coming and going. The awkward 
 disappointment gave her an excuse for 
 rather holding aloof from Tunnleton society
 
 17i A FALSE START. 
 
 for the present, and so clay after day she wan- 
 dered through the fields and woods with her 
 scapegrace lover. The strong common sense 
 that she naturally possessed would whisper 
 to her now and then that Dick's love-tale 
 was hardly veracious, but the glamour of her 
 passion closed her eyes, and if she could not 
 quite believe that it was all misunderstand- 
 ing, and that he had never represented him- 
 self as the nephew of John Madingley, yet she 
 deemed the falsehood had been perpetrated 
 because of the great love Dick bore her. 
 
 " Even supposing," he would argue, tl that 
 I had said so, which I deny, when a fellow 
 cares about a girl, and is just wild to call her 
 his own, it's no great crime if he a little 
 bounces about his position to her relations 
 in order to carry his point. A man who 
 is a man don't stick at trifles when he's over 
 head and ears in love with a girl, and 1 don't 
 think, Edith, I should stand at much to win
 
 FAMILY JARS. 175 
 
 you," and Miss Molecombe in her infatuation 
 thought Richard Madingley one of the most 
 chivalrous of men, and failed to discern the 
 utter selfishness of his character. " Your 
 father," continued Dick, "is behaving like 
 a parent of the last century ; he has no busi- 
 ness to treat you in the way he is doing, it 
 is shameful that he should play the tyrant in 
 this bygone fashion ; remember you are of 
 age, and no parent can dictate to you on a 
 matter of this kind." 
 
 " Oh ! Dick," she cried ; tl I am always 
 standing up for you ; I have told papa again 
 and again that I will not sit by and hear 
 you abused, and I intend to stand to m}^ 
 promise, and will marry nobody but you." 
 
 " You are a dear, good girl," he replied, 
 1 : and if your father cannot be brought to 
 listen to reason we shall have to take the 
 law into our own hands. I want you for 
 yourself, darling, and not merely because
 
 176 A FALSE START. 
 
 your father can make you a handsome allow- 
 ance if he chooses." 
 
 " I don't quite understand you, Dick, but 
 I couldn't marry you without papa's consent, 
 I couldn't indeed ! I will be true to you, 
 but we must wait, he will come round in 
 time." 
 
 "By all means," rejoined Dick, "give him 
 time, though it is hardly fair to expect us to 
 waste our lives because he hapj)ened to mis- 
 understand what I said — but never mind, 
 darling, I know you're true as steel, and as 
 long as that is the case I will bear this 
 injustice as best I may." 
 
 It was ingeniously put ; Dick Madingley 
 was posing before his fiancee as the victim 
 of cruel injustice. He drew her closer to 
 him, and as they strolled leisurely down a 
 briar-scented lane a more loverlike couple 
 could scarcely have been seen ; and this was 
 precisely the view that a tall muscular
 
 FAMILY JAHS. 177 
 
 young man, who had just reached a stile 
 leading into the lane some thirty or forty 
 yards behind them, took of affairs. 
 
 Maurice Enderby, for it was he, paused 
 ere he mounted the stile. He recognised 
 the couple before him at a glance, and had 
 no wish to intrude upon them, but he felt 
 sorely puzzled as to what he ought to do 
 under the circumstances. He knew, as did 
 all Tunnleton, by this time, that Mr. Mole- 
 combe had withdrawn his consent to Edith's 
 marriage ; he believed, as did many other 
 people, that Richard Madingley was an 
 impostor ; still it was perfectly clear that 
 Miss Molecombe had not given him up and 
 did not share that opinion. Maurice En- 
 derby sat for some time on that stile think- 
 ing what he should do. It did not require 
 much knowledge of the world to know how 
 clandestine meetings with an unprincipled 
 
 scamp like Dick Madingley would terminate. 
 VOL. II. n
 
 '7 s A FALSE START. 
 
 He could not bear the idea of any girl be- 
 coming the prey of a reckless adventurer 
 such as Dick. Ee could not stand still 
 and see Edith Molecombe, in a moment of 
 madness, consign herself to life-long misery. 
 But how was he to interfere ? It was a 
 very delicate matter to touch upon. He 
 might communicate his discovery to Mr. 
 Molecombe, and throw that gentleman into 
 a perfect tempest of indignation, but it 
 struck Maurice that would be more likely 
 to precipitate an elopement than avert it. 
 In vain did Maurice cudgel his brains ; he 
 could think of no other means of interfering 
 except through the medium of Edith's father, 
 and he felt instinctively that would pro- 
 duce more harm than good. In the mean- 
 time the lovers had got well out of sight, 
 and he could now pursue his way home. 
 Maurice felt that he should verv much 
 like to take counsel with somebody as to 
 what lie had best do — but with whom? Most
 
 FAMILY JARS. 179 
 
 decidedly he did not wish his discovery bla- 
 zoned abroad. Should he confide the matter 
 to General Shrewster, and take his advice on 
 the subject ? He was a clear-headed man and 
 not given to babble ; however, he was not 
 destined to require the general's services upon 
 this occasion ; for, to his great delight, on 
 arriving at his own house, he found Bob 
 Grafton chatting merrily over the tea-table 
 with Mrs. Enderby, and it flashed across 
 him that a thorough man of the world like 
 Grafton was just the very man to take into 
 his confidence. 
 
 Grafton was in high spirits ; news and 
 gossip of every kind fell from his lips. He 
 touched on pretty well everything that was 
 talked about — musically, politically, socially, 
 and wound up by congratulating Mrs. En- 
 derby with mock gravity upon her suc- 
 cessful debut as an owner of race-horses. 
 
 Bessie's face became serious directly. 
 
 n 2
 
 180 A FALSE START. 
 
 " Don't jest about that, please, Mr. Graf- 
 ton. There is no denying 1 we have been 
 very fortunate, and that the money has 
 been a great boon to us ; but I can't help 
 feeling that it is an ill-omened present, as 
 we shall discover in the end." 
 
 " Nonsense, Mrs. Enderby ! There can 
 be no harm in what you do ; indeed, as a 
 matter of fact you don't win it ; you've the 
 luck to possess a jolly old uncle who gives 
 you half his winnings, which he can well 
 afford to do. I only wish I had an uncle so 
 charged with right feeling. And now I 
 must say i>ood-bye ; it's a good stretch 
 back to Bridge Court." 
 
 " I'll walk part of the way with you, 
 Bob,'' said Maurice, as he took up his hat, 
 and the pair descended the stairs together. 
 " I want your advice on a rather ticklish 
 point," he continued, when they found them- 
 selves outside the door. And then Maurice
 
 FAMILY JARS. 181 
 
 told the whole story of Dick Madingley's 
 arrival in Tunnleton, how he had proclaimed 
 himself nephew and heir of John Madingley, 
 had become engaged to a young lady of the 
 place, and how that when John Madingley 
 himself appeared on the scene he had utterly 
 repudiated all knowledge of his namesake. 
 
 Grafton listened with great attention and 
 no little amusement. " What a precious 
 young scamp ! " he exclaimed, as Maurice 
 finished, " and by Jove ! what a sell for him 
 John Madingley turning up at the finish ! 
 However, of course that burst him ivp, and 
 his matrimonial speculation is all over now." 
 
 u That is just what it isn't," rejoined Mau- 
 rice. "Molecombe broke off his daughter's 
 engagement, and turned this young gentle- 
 man out of the house with the utmost 
 promptitude. But the fellow still lingers in 
 the place, as I happened to discover to-day, 
 and is still making clandestine love to Miss
 
 182 A FALSE START. 
 
 Molccombc. Now this is what I want to 
 consult you about. I don't wish to meddle, 
 I don't desire to make a scandal. If I in- 
 form her father " 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! " interrupted Bob, ener- 
 getically ; " from your description of him, he 
 would lock her up, and then she would be 
 off before twenty-four hours were over her 
 head. No, there's only one way out of a 
 thing like this. We must deal with Dick 
 Madingley. We must either bounce him 
 out of Tunnleton, or buy him, but I think 
 we can manage to do the former. You 
 must know that when I came down the 
 beginning of the week my attention was 
 attracted by one of my two fellow-travellers. 
 The man's face haunted me. I knew I had 
 seen it before, and under unpleasant circum- 
 stances. Rather to my surprise, they both 
 got out at Tunnleton, and the porter told 
 me that the younger man of the two was
 
 FAMILY JARS. 183 
 
 Mr. Rid 1 arc! Madingley. The name brought 
 it all back to me. I recollected my man 
 then. It was a Mr Pick, a leg who was 
 strongly suspected of being actively engaged 
 in the laming of a horse of John Mading- 
 ley 's at Epsom. Like most of these cases, it 
 couldn't be proved, but of one thing there 
 was no doubt, that nobody benefited by that 
 mare's accident so largely as Mr. Pick, and 
 from the heavy amount he had betted against 
 her it seemed as if he had foreseen the acci- 
 dent that befell her at the eleventh hour." 
 
 " Still, although that is very corroborative 
 of the opinion I have formed of Dick 
 Madingley, I don't see how that is going to 
 help us.'' 
 
 " It's not at all a bad card, my dear 
 Maurice, in the game of bounce that we are 
 about to play ; that this young gentleman 
 should be entertaining such a known scoun- 
 drel as Pick speaks volumes against him;
 
 184 A FALSE START. 
 
 besides, didn't you tell me that he swaggered 
 a good deal about an uncle who is staying 
 with him whom he asserted to be the uncle 
 who owned the gold-mine, or what ever he 
 chose to call it. Now I take it half Tunnle- 
 ton could tell you who has been staying 
 with Mr. Richard Madingley this week, and 
 if it turns out. as I think it quite likely it 
 may do, that this thief Pick, the book-maker, 
 has been posing as that wealthy relative, 
 then my boy we've got the ace of trumps in 
 our hand, and now good-bye. I'll be with 
 you to lunch to-morrow, and we'll snuff our 
 young friend out as soon as we have made 
 the necessary inquiries.
 
 18: 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 NOTICE TO QUIT. 
 
 The morrow was rather an eventful day 
 with Maurice Enderby. In the first place 
 John Madingley took his departure ; he was 
 extremely cordial in his farewell both to 
 Bessie and her husband. " I'll give you 
 what help I can, my lad," he said as he 
 bade Maurice good-bye, ''in whatever you 
 turn your hand to ; but you're no more fit 
 to be a parson than I was, though when they 
 come to tot up my ledger they'll find I've
 
 1SG A FALSE START. 
 
 been a good deal better clergyman than 
 they give me credit for ; but remember, 
 things were very different when I began, 
 and what was thought no harm in a parson 
 doing in my younger days is looked upon 
 in quite another light now. You're in the 
 wrong groove, my boy ; take an old man's 
 advice, think very seriously before you are 
 ordained priest, and remember if you want 
 a little money to start in another line I dare 
 say I can manage to find it for you." A 
 warm kiss to Bessie, a hearty wrench of the 
 hand to Maurice Enderby, and old John 
 Madingley was speeding once more towards 
 his northern home. 
 
 " I hope you've a decent lunch for Graf- 
 ton," said Maurice to his wife, as they 
 strolled home from the station. 
 
 " Don't throw doubts upon my house- 
 keeping," replied Bessie, laughing, "the 
 fatted calf has been killed for Mr. Grafton.
 
 NOTICE TO QUIT. 187 
 
 and I don't think you'll have anything to 
 complain of.'' 
 
 Bob Grafton turned up in due course, and 
 did due justice to Mrs. Enderby's prepara- 
 tions ; but no sooner was their meal disposed 
 of, and they were left by Bessie to their own 
 devices, than he at once plunged into the 
 midst of things. 
 
 " I've asked a question here and there 
 about Tunnleton this morning, and gathered 
 a fact or two that will be useful to us. Only 
 one person has stayed with Richard Mading- 
 ley since he established himself here, that 
 was his uncle, Mr. Dobson, who left again 
 some two or three mornings ago. I've no 
 earthly doubt that Mr. Pick and Mr. Dobson 
 are identical, though what object Mr. Pick 
 had in posing as this young man's uncle I 
 don't know. I can imagine a score of good 
 reasons for his changing his name. He may 
 be veritably his uncle for all I know, but
 
 188 A TALSE START. 
 
 we've this fact to go upon, his relative is 
 well known as a thoroughly unscrupulous 
 book-maker, and is masquerading down here 
 under an assumed name. The conclusion is 
 obvious ; he is known to have given utter- 
 ance to a most mendacious statement regard- 
 ing his kinship to John Madingley. You 
 have fair grounds, therefore, for supposing 
 that lie is also down here under false colours. 
 And now comes the question of how are we 
 to put the screw on. What I propose is 
 this, that you and I walk down to see him, 
 tell him briefly, but sternly, that we give 
 him forty-eight hours to clear out of Tunnle- 
 ton, and that if he has not disappeared in 
 that time you will feel it your duty to lay 
 the facts that have come to your knowledge 
 before the committee of the club." 
 
 " And suppose," replied Maurice, " he 
 simply laughs at us, and tells us to do our 
 worst ? "
 
 NOTICE TO QUIT. 18D 
 
 " Then hold your tongue and let me talk 
 to him. You see, if what we know really 
 iocs put before a committee of the club, they 
 would feel bound to make him substantiate 
 his social position. What scoundrels he 
 may choose to know is no business of theirs, 
 but doubts having arisen they have a right 
 to insist upon his vindicating himself and 
 show them that he is a gentleman and not a 
 mere adventurer who has crept into their 
 midst under false colours." 
 
 " And you think it possible, Bob, to keep 
 Miss Molccombe's name out of the business 
 altogether ? '' 
 
 "No, honestly, I don't; we will do our 
 best ; but an unprincipled blackguard like 
 that is pretty certain to introduce it, even if 
 he gives in and we carry our point ; he is 
 sure to spit all the venom he can ; and look 
 here, Maurice, you used to be able to hit 
 terribly hard with the gloves when you were
 
 190 A FALSE START. 
 
 a freshman, and probably will be sorely 
 tempted to knock Mr. Richard Madingley 
 down before our interview is over. Mind, 
 you must keep your temper. And now, the 
 sooner we tackle this gentleman in his own 
 den the better." 
 
 Mr. Richard Madingley, having made an 
 excellent luncheon, was ruminating how 
 things stood with him in Tunnleton. He 
 was quite conscious that they were begin- 
 ning to look askew at him at the club. 
 They had no doubt there about his having 
 represented himself to be John Madingley "s 
 nephew, and they were equally aware from 
 General Shrewster that John Madingley 
 had most clearly denied all relationship 
 during his brief visit to Tunnleton. People 
 who had opened their houses freely to Dick 
 Madingley began now to repent their pre- 
 cipitation. Some few crusty old members, 
 who had not benefited by Dick's hospitality.
 
 NOTICE TO QUIT. 191 
 
 were already whispering that "the fellow 
 ought never to have been let in here, the 
 committee are not half particular enough in 
 their scrutiny." Let people once conceive 
 a suspicion that you have deceived them, 
 and that you are not what you represented 
 yourself to be, and it is wonderful how 
 willing they are to go into the other ex- 
 treme, and believe any wild story to your 
 detriment. 
 
 Dick felt that opinion was against him in 
 Tunnleton. He could not but notice that 
 many of his fair acquaintances, who had 
 previously cmite courted a bow from him, 
 now seemed a little anxious to avoid meet- 
 ing him, and when they did the old smiling 
 salute degenerated into a frigid bend. 
 
 "Yes," he mused, "the game's about up 
 here ; well, it has served my turn very well, 
 and I don't know that even the finish of it 
 is not another trick in my favour ! The
 
 192 A FALSE START. 
 
 question of settlements would have been a 
 rock I must have split upon ; my only 
 chance would have been to run away with 
 Edith, and old Molecombe's angry breaking- 
 ofr of our engagement only makes it easier 
 to win her consent to that step. A few 
 days more, and I've no doubt I shall get 
 her to agree to it." But here Dick Mading- 
 ley's reflections were somewhat rudely in- 
 terrupted by an intimation from Phillips 
 that Mr. Endcrby wished to see him. 
 
 " Mr. Enderby ! ' exclaimed Dick in 
 great astonishment. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Phillips ; "he and 
 another gentleman, I don't know his name, 
 but \ni^ often about Tunnleton, I believe; 
 stops a good deal at Bridge Court, sir." 
 
 " Show them up to the drawing-room, 
 Phillips, and say I'll be with them in two 
 or three minutes. Endcrby," he muttered, 
 " now what can he want with me ? I hate
 
 NOTICE TO QUIT. 193 
 
 him, and don't suppose he has much liking 
 for me. What can he have got to say to 
 me ? As for the story about John Mading- 
 ley, why all the town knows it by this time, 
 he can't have come with that precious dis- 
 covery to me. And I don't think," said 
 Dick, meditatively, "he can possibly have 
 found out anything else; however, here 
 goes." 
 
 When Dick entered the drawing-room, 
 Maurice Enderby saluted him with a formal 
 bow, introduced the stranger who accom- 
 panied him as his friend Mr. Grafton, and 
 then, without further preface, he continued, 
 
 " I need scarcely say, Mr. Madingley, 
 that nothing but a matter of urgent import- 
 ance would have justified this intrusion, 
 but if you will only listen to me patiently 
 for a few minutes I will endeavour to be 
 as brief as possible over a most unpleasant 
 
 business," and then, in pithy logical se- 
 VOL. II. o
 
 194 A FALSE START. 
 
 qucnce, Maurice stated the facts with which 
 we are already acquainted, and concluded 
 by saying that all these things threw such 
 grave doubts on the minds of both himself 
 and his friend that he had no alternative 
 but to make them public. 
 
 " And do you suppose, Mr. Enderby, that 
 I feel called upon to inform you of all the 
 details of my family history, of where I 
 usually live, who are my intimate acquaint- 
 ances, &c." 
 
 " No," replied Maurice, " that will be for 
 the information of the club committee, and, 
 as for family details, I can only trust that 
 you will be rather more fortunate as regards 
 uncles than you have been so far." 
 
 The shot told. A savage scowl passed 
 across Dick Madingley's face, and he 
 muttered something, of which " meddlesome 
 parsons ; was all that was audible. Bob 
 < rrafton, who had watched him keenly from
 
 NOTICE TO QUIT. 195 
 
 the beginning of Maurice's statement, had 
 noted, coolly though Dick took it, his slight 
 start at the mention of Mr. Pick ; he also 
 noted the slightly nervous twitch with which 
 he heard the threat of placing his case 
 before the club committee. " That fellow 
 will shut up when the pinch comes," thought 
 Grafton. 
 
 " I have very little doubt, Mr. Enderby," 
 rejoined Dick, with a sneer, "you are inti- 
 mately acquainted with the members of the 
 betting ring. It is not often that any 
 gentleman manifests your interest in turf 
 matters who is not in the habit of doing 
 business with that fraternity. I am not 
 aware that you ever saw my Uncle Dobson, 
 but, even if you did, an accidental likeness 
 to an unknown betting man hardly warrants 
 the assertion that he is a supposititious 
 relation " 
 
 Maurice hesitated for a moment, but 
 
 o2
 
 196 A FALSE START. 
 
 Grafton now cut into the conversation in 
 quiet resolute fashion that somewhat awed 
 Dick Madingley. 
 
 "Oh, no! " he said, "we don't make mis- 
 takes of that kind. I'm a racing man my- 
 self, and have known Mr. Pick by sight 
 ever since he nobbled Marietta for the 
 Oaks seven years ago. I travelled down 
 from London in the same carriage with you 
 and him ten days ago, and know perfectly 
 well he passed in Tunnleton as your Uncle 
 Dobson. Never had anybody else staying 
 with you, you know, since you've been in 
 Cunnleton. Can't be any mistake about it, 
 you see." 
 
 " And what the devil have you got to do 
 with it, I should like to know ?' : demanded 
 Dick fiercely. "By what right do you in- 
 terfere ? " 
 
 "Right!" exclaimed Grafton, with a 
 short laugh. "By the right that men put
 
 NOTICE TO QUIT. 197 
 
 welshers out of the inclosurc of the race- 
 course, by the right that all men have to 
 defend their brethren from fraud, by the 
 acknowledged right and duty of every man 
 to expose a swindler ! " 
 
 " And you dare say this to me ! " cried 
 Dick, with a voice hoarse with passion. 
 
 " Yes," chimed in Maurice, "we not only 
 say it, but, as Grafton says, it's our duty to 
 say it. For the sake of some of those who 
 have weakly trusted you, who have weakly 
 welcomed you to their homes, and to whom 
 this exposure must be a source of bitter 
 shame, we are willing to hush it up as far 
 as may be. Give us your word to leave 
 Tunnleton within eight-and -forty hours, and 
 we will stay our hands for that time ; but 
 after that remember everything we know is 
 laid before the club committee, and your 
 exposure is imminent." 
 
 " You may do as you like about that,"
 
 198 A FALSE START. 
 
 rejoined Madingley, "I am quite willing to 
 court investigation, and shall bring an action 
 for libel against the pair of you to boot.'' 
 
 " No you won't,'' chimed in Grafton, "we 
 are not going to be frightened by brag, and 
 you don't mean fighting. You'll be out of 
 Tunnleton in forty-eight hours." 
 
 u Do you know, sir," rejoined Dick, with 
 inimitable assurance, " that I am engaged to 
 be married to Miss Molecombe, and that ■ 
 
 " Her father kicked you out of the house 
 a few days ago. Yes, we know all about 
 that, and it is to avoid such annoyances as 
 this that we suggest that you should leave 
 Tunnleton quietly and at once — but leave 
 Tunnleton you will, or find yourself cut by 
 the whole community." 
 
 For a few minutes Dick reflected in dog- 
 ged silence, then he said — 
 
 " Remember, I in no wise acknowledge 
 that the allegations you make against me
 
 NOTICE TO QUIT. 199 
 
 are true, although perhaps there is just that 
 suspicion of truth in them that makes them 
 difficult to disprove ; but, gentlemen, my 
 feelings are deeply involved as regards Miss 
 Molecombe, and I utterly decline to leave 
 Tunnleton for another week." 
 
 " Ha ! in order that you may continue 
 your clandestine meetings with that foolish 
 girl," interposed Maurice hotly. "No, Mr. 
 Madingley ; forty-eight hours is the outside 
 we give you, and I honestly believe that is 
 twenty-four too long." 
 
 Dick looked at him for a moment. 
 
 " I suppose," he said, with an evil sneer, 
 11 that in the interests of morality you con- 
 sider it necessary to keep strict espionage 
 over your flock. I have heard of such shep- 
 herds, but never saw one of the dirty 
 creatures before. You have been doing me 
 the honour, I presume, of dogging my foot- 
 steps lately."
 
 200 A FALSE START. 
 
 For an instant Maurice's fist clenched, his 
 eyes flashed, the veins in his forehead stood 
 out, and it was the veriest toss-up whether 
 Dick Madingley measured his length on the 
 carpet or not ; but a " steady, old man," from 
 Grafton turned the scale, and with a mighty 
 effort Maurice mastered his temper. 
 
 " I happened to see you walking with 
 Miss Molecombe yesterday, and knowing, as 
 indeed all Tunnleton knows, that her father 
 had forbidden all intercourse between you, 
 T don't scruple to say that such conduct on 
 your part will make gossip all too busy with 
 her name." 
 
 " Never mind going into all that," broke 
 in Grafton, "it is quite beside the point. 
 Mr. Madingley thoroughly understands us — 
 we give him forty-eight hours to leave the 
 place quietly. After that, we do our best to 
 unmask an adventurer. No ; you needn't 
 talk about libel' — we'll chance that. Come
 
 NOTICE TO QUIT. 201 
 
 along, Maurice, I don't think we need detain 
 Mr. Madingley any longer ; he quite under- 
 stands us." 
 
 " I shall take my own course," blustered 
 Dick. 
 
 "Just so," rejoined Grafton; " which 
 will be a ticket to London by an early train 
 to-morrow. Good-morning " 
 
 Dick Madingley vouchsafed not the 
 slightest notice of their salutation, and, when 
 the pair were outside the house, Maurice 
 exclaimed — 
 
 " Thank heaven we are through with that. 
 I never was so sorely tempted to inflict per- 
 sonal chastisement as I was a few minutes 
 ago." 
 
 u No, I know, old man; but it would have 
 weakened our game terribly, and a summons 
 for assault is always an awkward thing for 
 one of your profession. He's going right 
 enough, never fear ; but you were right in
 
 202 A FALSE START. 
 
 one thing : we ought not to have given him 
 more than twenty-four hours ; he's a vin- 
 dictive, mischievous cur, that, and, mark me, 
 Maurice, if by any fluke he ever has a 
 chance of squaring accounts with you he 
 will do it ; but he's a plausible beggar, and 
 there's no saying what he mayn't persuade 
 Miss Molecombe to do in the time we've 
 given him; however, we may console our- 
 selves with one thing : if a young woman 
 in these days is bent upon marrying the 
 wrong man she will do it sooner or later 
 in spite of everybody. I turn off here, so 
 must say good-bye. I leave Bridge Court 
 in two or three days now, and if you happen 
 to want me m re Madingley you know my 
 London address." 
 
 Maurice Enderby walked home musing 
 over his interview with Dick Madingley. 
 He had done the best he could think of to 
 prevent Edith Molecombe falling into the
 
 NOTICE TO QUIT. 203 
 
 hands of the audacious adventurer who had 
 ensnared her affections, but he was forced 
 to admit that Grafton was right, and that, 
 let the girl's father and friends do what 
 they would, it must depend very much upon 
 whether Edith could be brought to see the 
 utter worthlessness of her lover. On one 
 point of the interview Maurice looked back 
 regretfully, and a faint smile played round 
 his mouth as he muttered, 
 
 "No, I don't think I am suited to the 
 profession. Ah, if I hadn't been a parson 
 how I would have knocked that fellow 
 down ! "
 
 204 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 HER HEART FAILED HER. 
 
 Dick Madingley paced the drawing-room 
 for a good half -hour after his visitors left 
 him. He had decided before their coming 
 that it behoved him to quit Tunnleton very 
 shortly, and, except for Edith Molecombe, 
 it would suit him just as well to leave the 
 day after to-morrow as a week or two later ; 
 he would not see Edith this afternoon, as 
 he was well aware that she had an engage- 
 ment that would prevent her meeting him,
 
 HER HEART FAILED HER. 205 
 
 and further, she had told him that she must in- 
 evitably be discovered if their meetings were 
 too frequent. She was to see him to-morrow, 
 and the question was, should he be able to per- 
 suade her to elope with him on the following- 
 day ? Dick had a pretty genius for intrigue ; 
 no, he would not go by the morning train, for 
 that was the train w r hich Tunnleton chiefly 
 affected, for the obvious reason that it gave 
 them a long day in town ; no, he would go 
 by the mid-day train, and, if he could per- 
 suade Edith to come with him, well, he 
 would take her ; they must not go together, 
 and he thought if Edith travelled up second- 
 class and closely veiled she would run little 
 risk of recognition ; he would get her ticket 
 for her and contrive to slip it into her hand 
 as she passed into the station ; once there 
 she must stick closely to the ladies' room 
 till the train came in, and then, if she 
 slipped quickly into her carriage, he thought
 
 206 A FALSE START. 
 
 in the confusion she would escape all ob- 
 servation. Would he be able to persuade 
 her to this step so abruptly ? Dick Mading- 
 ley had great confidence in his power over 
 the girl ; if that confounded parson had 
 only given him another week or ten days 
 he would have had no fears as to the result, 
 but most girls are startled at the idea when 
 such a step is first proposed to them. Dick 
 knew this, and, though by no means troubled 
 with diffidence, felt that he might not 
 succeed. 
 
 Grafton read him truly ; he might bluster 
 about what he was going to do, but Dick 
 Madingley knew a good deal better than 
 to risk an inquiry into his social status by 
 any of the Tunnlcton people. No, he would 
 settle the few bills he owed in the town 
 that afternoon, for Dick was not an ad- 
 venturer of the petty sort that swindles the 
 trades-people of the j)lace m which they
 
 HER HEART EAILED HER. 207 
 
 conduct their campaign ; he flew at higher 
 game than that, and, but for the inopportune 
 appearance of John Madingley on the scene, 
 would probably have won the prize for 
 which he strove. This aim, just now, was 
 a wealthy marriage, and in Edith Molecombe 
 he imagined he had found a young lady 
 who must eventually come into a good bit 
 of money, and whose father, if he liked, 
 could behave very handsomely to her at 
 present. He might have had to run away 
 with her in any case, but he would have 
 figured in a very different light before 
 Tunnleton had his imposition regarding 
 John Madingley not been discovered. Yes, 
 if ever a man of his temperament had a debt 
 to settle with another he had with Maurice 
 Enderby, and he vowed that, should the 
 chance ever come, Mr. Enderby should be 
 paid in full. Curiously enough his ani- 
 mosity was but slightly roused as regarded
 
 20S A FALSE START. 
 
 Grafton, but his antipathy to Maurice was 
 of long standing and had increased in in- 
 tensity day by day: this was the culmination 
 of it, and Dick Madingley was not likely 
 to be very scrupulous should he ever see 
 his way to revenge. 
 
 Dick Madingley had been sitting on the 
 stile leading into Kilroe Wood a good half- 
 hour, and was beginning to wonder whether 
 Edith would keep her appointment, when a 
 light step behind him caught his ear, and, 
 in another moment, Miss Molecombe was 
 by his side. 
 
 " I am very sorry I am late, Dick, but I 
 had a good deal of difficulty to get here at 
 all. I can't help thinking they suspect 
 something ; papa said last night that lie 
 could not think what you were still hanging 
 about Tunnleton for, a place in which, he 
 said, you were utterly discredited, and 
 further added that if he for one moment
 
 HER HEART FAILED HER. 209 
 
 thought it were on my account he would 
 pack me off to my aunt in Wales, and then, 
 as usual, we came to high words, which 
 ended in my flouncing' out of the room and 
 having- a good cry upstairs." 
 
 " It is as I thought, darling," replied Mr. 
 Madingley, " your father is commencing to 
 play the domestic tyrant. As long as you 
 stand to me, you will be continually talked 
 at. It is too much to ask of any girl to bear 
 that. Better tell your father at once, dear, 
 that you give me up, and then they would 
 let you alone." 
 
 " You don't mean it, Dick, you can't; you 
 know I wouldn't give you up." 
 
 " I think perhaps it would be best for you, 
 dearest. I must leave this to-morrow, and 
 though, as long as there is a hope of winning 
 your hand I shall be true, yet it is trying 
 you too hard to hold you to your engage- 
 ment. Tell your father it is broken " 
 
 VOL II. p
 
 li 10 A FALSE START. 
 
 " Dick ! Dick don't think so meanly of 
 mo; do you think I cannot wait and suffer 
 patiently for your sake ?" and Edith thought 
 how unselfish and chivalrous her lover was 
 in endeavouring to make their parting as 
 easy as possible for her. 
 
 "Yes, it must be so," replied Madingley. 
 el It will be sad and dreary work for me, but 
 
 there is no alternative, unless " and here 
 
 he paused abruptly, with apparent confusion. 
 " Unless what? " she exclaimed, anxiously. 
 
 u Nothing, nothing. Don't ask me : I 
 never ought to have said what I did ; forget 
 those last two or three words." 
 
 " No, I claim to hear what you were about 
 to suggest," replied Edith, " if there is any 
 other course open to us, I've a right to de- 
 cide whether I will take it." 
 
 At first Dick Madingley positively refused 
 to explain himself, but gradually the specious 
 impostor allowed Edith to draw from him
 
 HER HEART TAILED HER. 211 
 
 that she might be freed from all annoyances 
 and their mutual happiness secured if she 
 could make up her mind to run away with 
 him the next morning. 
 
 At first Edith was frightened out of her 
 life at the bare suggestion, but gradually as 
 Dick unfolded his scheme, and pointed out 
 to her the extreme simplicity of it, she began 
 to listen to him, and before they parted she 
 had pledged herself to meet him at the 
 Tunnleton Station, and elope with him by 
 the midday train, and then Miss Molecombe 
 scampered home with a heightened pulse 
 and a heart beating with unnatural rapidity. 
 
 If Edith wanted any strengthing in her 
 
 resolution it was administered to her that 
 
 night. Business at the bank had gone a 
 
 little awry; it was not that anything serious 
 
 had occurred, but an unpleasant mistake had 
 
 been made with regard to one of their best 
 
 customers' accounts, and the customer in 
 
 p 2
 
 212 A FALSE START. 
 
 question, who was a wealthy and irascible 
 man, had gone the length of blowing up Mr. 
 Molecombe in his own bank parlour about the 
 carelessness of his subordinates. That Mr. 
 Molecombe had passed that on, and made 
 tilings pretty lively all round for the sub- 
 ordinates in question, it is almost needless to 
 add, but unluckily he had not wholly worked 
 off his irritation at his place of business, 
 and poured forth the remnant of his wrath 
 on his own family. Having pronounced the 
 cook utterly incompetent, and marvelled why 
 Mrs. Molecombe continued to keep a woman 
 so incapable of cooking a mutton chop, hav- 
 ing informed his butler that he was an idiot, 
 who, after many years' experience, seemed to 
 know less about what should be the proper 
 temperature of the wine than a charity 
 school-boy, he, when the servants withdrew, 
 commenced to talk at his daughter, perhaps 
 the most exasperating form of attack : lie
 
 HER HEART FAILED HER. 213 
 
 said nothing to Edith, and poured forth a 
 flood of ridicule and abuse to his wife on the 
 subject of Dick Madingley. At last Edith, 
 springing to her feet, exclaimed, with flash- 
 ing and tear-stained eyes, that she would 
 bear it no longer, that she believed none of 
 these lies that were circulated about Mr. 
 Madingley, and that even if they were true 
 he might recollect that with his own consent 
 Dick Madingley had been affianced to her 
 for weeks. That she had given him her 
 love, and, come what might, she would not 
 sit still and hear him thrown stones at. 
 " I can bear these taunts no longer, and 
 sooner than continue to endure them I shall 
 seek a home elsewhere." 
 
 " You had better seek your pillow at once, 
 Miss," replied Mr. Molecomhe, furiously, 
 "and as for the home, if this is not good 
 enough for you, I'll make arrangements for 
 you to reside with your aunt in Wales.
 
 214 A FALSE START. 
 
 The scenery is magnificent, and as for 
 society I believe there are the goats," con- 
 cluded Mr. Molecornbe with grim irony. 
 
 "Good-night, mamma," said Edith in a 
 low tone^ and without ever glancing at her 
 father she quickly left the room. 
 
 Mrs. Molecornbe was a rather weak 
 woman and stood in no little awe of her 
 domineering husband, but she loved her 
 daughter dearly, and no sooner had the 
 door closed than she took up the cudgels on 
 her behalf. 
 
 " You are too hard upon her, Alick, you 
 are indeed," she exclaimed, "the girl has 
 met with a bitter disappointment and is 
 naturally very sore at heart. Why cannot 
 you give the wound time to heal ? Why 
 will you not suffer her to do her best to 
 forget him ? You don't know the suffering 
 you inflict. You don't know that when a 
 girl has given her heart away what a desert
 
 HER HEART FAILED HER. 215 
 
 life seems to her when she is told that her 
 lover is worthless and that she must give 
 him up. 
 
 '' Confound it, woman," rejoined Mr. 
 Molecombe, in milder tones and with no 
 little contrition for his past ill-temper, " you 
 don't mean to say that it was my fault we 
 did not discover this Madingley was a liar 
 and a scoundrel sooner." 
 
 "No, Alick ; but cannot you understand 
 that alluding to her lover's iniquities is 
 dropping nitric acid into Edith's wounds. 
 Pray, pray, leave the subject alone before 
 her. Don't let the name of Richard Mading- 
 ley ever pass your lips." 
 
 "Well, well, perhaps I'm wrong, but the 
 whole thing, you know, has been so deuced 
 disagreeable. I am quite the laughing-stock 
 of the town, and then Edith makes me mad 
 by standing up for the young villain ; but 
 I'll do my best, I'll try not to say any thing
 
 216 A FALSE START. 
 
 about him before Edith, and if, as I hope, 
 he clears out of Tunnleton before many days 
 are over, that will make it all the easier." 
 
 The banker lingered over his breakfast 
 the next morning in the hope of making 
 friends with his daughter, but Edith's maid 
 rej)orted that her mistress was suffering from 
 a bad headache, and wanted nothing but a 
 cup of tea in her own room. Mr. Molecombe 
 of course went up to see her, but Edith de- 
 clared she was suffering chiefly from the 
 effects of a bad night and only wanted quiet 
 and to be let alone. She had made up her 
 mind that this would be her best chance 
 of escaping all observation ; it was easy 
 enough to get out of the house and make her 
 way to the station, but the difficulty was to 
 carry a hand-bag with her ; more baggage 
 she dared not attempt, but even that little 
 would attract attention, should any of the 
 servants catch sight of her departure. Once
 
 EBK HEAKT FAILED HER. 217 
 
 clear of the house, and the getting to the 
 station by roads by which she was not likely 
 to meet acquaintances was easy. In due 
 course she rang for her maid and dressed, 
 then ordered a cup of strong beef-tea and 
 desired not to be disturbed till luncheon 
 time. A quarter of an hour afterwards, and, 
 closely veiled, hot though the weather was, 
 with her dressing-bag in her hand, she stole 
 down the back stairs into the garden ; a light 
 shawl thrown carelessly over her arm veiled 
 the dressing-bag. One piece of lawn dan- 
 gerously open to observation was safely 
 crossed, and then Edith plunged into the 
 shrubberies and felt safe. No chance of 
 meeting any one now, unless it was some 
 under-gardener. No. She felt the perils of 
 her enterprise were over until she arrived 
 in the purlieus of Tunnleton Station. 
 
 Edith passed into the booking-office un- 
 noticed, and then stood irresolute, not know-
 
 218 A FALSE STAET. 
 
 ing how to act. She glanced at the clock, 
 and saw there was a quarter of an hour yet 
 before the train was due. Had she better 
 take her ticket while the office was as yet 
 uncrowded, or leave the obtaining of it to 
 Dick? 
 
 While she still hesitated a voice whispered 
 in her ear — 
 
 ' ' Go into the waiting-room at once ; 
 don't come out till the bell rings, and then 
 jump as quickly as possible into the nearest 
 carriage," while at the same time she felt 
 her ticket slipped into her hand. 
 
 Without turning her head she made her 
 way into the waiting-room as directed, and 
 there, in a state of some trepidation, awaited 
 the signal of the coming train. A few 
 minutes and the bell rang out its warning 
 for passengers to take their seats. Grasping 
 her dressing-bag, Edith made her way 
 swiftly to the platform j but as she crossed
 
 HER HEART FAILED HER. 219 
 
 the threshold stopped paralysed, for there, 
 not half a score paces from her, stood 
 her father in animated conversation with 
 some gentleman, whom he was apparently 
 seeing off to London. To reach her part of 
 the train she must pass close to him, and she 
 could hardly hope that he would not in- 
 stantly recognise her. Her heart failed her, 
 she shrank back again into the waiting- 
 room, intent only on escaping her father's 
 recognition. 
 
 Dick Madingley had been also terribly 
 discomposed by the appearance of the 
 banker. He judged it wisest to attract as 
 little attention to himself as possible, and, 
 therefore, instead of lingering, as he had in- 
 tended, to see Edith emerge from the wait- 
 ing-room, he got into his carriage and took 
 a seat on the far side from the window. 
 Another two or three minutes and they were 
 off, and Madingley was left to wonder the
 
 220 A FALSE START. 
 
 whole way up whether his fiancee had 
 effected her escape. 
 
 u It could hardly have been a mere 
 chance," he muttered; "this is some of 
 Enderby's work, I'll be bound. I've no 
 doubt he or his creatures have dogged my 
 every footstep ; he doubtless bribed some 
 one of my servants to know by what train I 
 was going to town, and put old Molecombe 
 up to seeing me off. His taking his stand 
 where he did was probably accident, but 
 there he was like a terrier at a rabbit-hole. 
 I don't suppose Edith is in the train, she is 
 a clever and a plucky girl if she managed to 
 get past him." 
 
 On his arrival in London, Mr. Madingley 
 speedily convinced himself that his surmise 
 was correct, and, with a furious malediction 
 on Maurice Enderby, he drove off to the 
 scene of his usual avocations. 
 
 In supposing that the banker's appearance
 
 HER HEART TAILED HER. 221 
 
 at the station was due to Maurice Enderby, 
 Dick Madingley was mistaken. It was the 
 result of pure accident. The irascible cus- 
 tomer of the day before had called in to 
 have a little more talk with Mr. Mole- 
 combe of a less fiery description, and, 
 not having been able to quite finish his say 
 and being at the same time anxious to catch 
 the London train, the banker had walked 
 down to the station with him in order to 
 finish their discussion. 
 
 His client off, Mr. Molecombe at once 
 turned his back upon the railway and re- 
 traced his steps to the bank. But Edith had 
 no more idea of this than her lover. Con- 
 science-stricken, she thought her premeditated 
 elopement had been discovered, and sat 
 trembling in the most retired corner of the 
 waiting-room, expecting every instant to see 
 her father enter in search of her. When a 
 quarter-of-an-hour had elapsed, and she saw
 
 222 A FALSE START. 
 
 no sign of anyone in quest of her, she 
 ventured to peep once more cautiously out 
 of the door. The platform was nearly 
 deserted ; except for a boy cutting papers at 
 the bookstall, and a grimy gentleman assidu- 
 ously engaged in cleaning lamps, there was 
 no one visible. The very porters were all 
 over on the other side of the line, awaiting 
 the down train. 
 
 Edith began to recover her courage. 
 Whatever caused her father's presence there, 
 it was jDossible, could she only regain her 
 home unnoticed, that her escapade of this 
 morning might be kept a secret. Fortune 
 favoured her, and she regained her own 
 room unnoticed, some quarter-of-an-hour 
 before luncheon, without any one sus- 
 pecting that she had been beyond the 
 shrubberies.
 
 223 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 "the spotted dog." 
 
 Tunnleton was quite in a ferment during 
 the next day or two. The Torkeslys, the 
 Prauns, and the Maddoxes were much ex- 
 cited about the sudden departure of Richard 
 Madingley. 
 
 " Given up his house, by Jove ! " said 
 General Maddox in his usual deliberate 
 tones; "paid off all his servants, and has 
 cleared off without beat of drum ; hasn't 
 left a P.P.C. card anywhere that I can hear.
 
 224 A FALSE START. 
 
 Looks queer, sir. Gad, I don't believe that 
 fellow was quite right after all ! " 
 
 " Right, Maddox ! " replied the irascible 
 Praun, who was always in extremes, and 
 who flew from one view to a diametrically 
 opposite one, quickly as the wind flies round 
 the compass, " I have no doubt he was the 
 most confounded impostor that ever put 
 foot in the place. Took us all in, damn 
 his impudence ! " 
 
 "Very disgraceful, Praun," replied General 
 Maddox, shaking his head; u though, to do 
 him justice, he did give good dinners. 5 ' 
 
 '•'Yes," replied the other ; "and, scoundrel 
 though he was," a remark, by the way, for 
 which General Praun had very scant justifi- 
 cation, u I should like to know, before he 
 is hung, where he got his after-dinner 
 sherry: but I don't know what's coming 
 t ' > us : the place is getting turned topsy- 
 turvy ; what do you think I passed on
 
 " THE SPOTTED DOG." 225 
 
 my way here ? Mrs. Enderby, if you 
 please, driving a carriage and a pair of 
 ponies. Now I hate gossip ; I don't want 
 to meddle in my neighbour's affairs, but 
 when you see a phenomenon, such as a 
 curate setting up his carriage and pair, 
 one can't help asking how he does it." 
 
 "Livery stable probably," rejoined General 
 Maddox ; u trap for the day, you know ; 
 two ponies, though ? Quite beyond his 
 means," concluded the general, with a 
 shake of his head. 
 
 u Means ! '' cried Praun ; ct nothing is 
 beyond the means of a gambler while he is 
 in luck. How J arrow can reconcile it to 
 his conscience, how Tunnleton can submit 
 to a parson within its midst, who, instead 
 of attending to his duties, is devoted to 
 speculating on the turf, passes my com- 
 prehension ! " and in good truth for the next 
 few days the backslidings of Richard 
 
 vol. II. Q .
 
 226 A FALSE START. 
 
 Madingley and Maurice Enderby divided 
 the attention of the town. 
 
 But for all that there are not wanting in 
 any community worshippers of the rising 
 sun. To these worldly people that Mrs. 
 Enderby should have turned out a veritable 
 niece of John Madingley and have set up 
 her pony-carriage were signs indicative of 
 coming prosperity that they deemed unwise 
 to neglect. They reminded each other that 
 the Enderbys, although they had said 
 nothing, had always held strictly aloof from 
 Richard Madingley's entertainments: in fact 
 a slight reaction was already setting in in 
 Maurice's favour, although the two generals 
 had by no means abandoned their hostile 
 attitude. 
 
 But now that fatal wedding gift once 
 more began to haunt Maurice, once more 
 to send the blood dancing through his veins, 
 once more aroused visions of a broad, green-
 
 " THE SPOTTED DOG." 227 
 
 ribboned turf, white rails, silken jackets, 
 and half a score of horses tearing up " the 
 straight '' at full speed. Doncaster meeting 
 commenced in a few days ; tr,e sporting 
 papers were, so far, nearly unanimous in 
 predicting that the Wandering Nun would 
 win the Champagne Stakes, and, strive to 
 banish it from his mind though he might, 
 it was all no use, and Maurice Enderby was 
 once more feverishly anxious about the 
 result of the race. He had not dared to 
 ask Grafton to telegrajm to him again, 
 although he knew that gentleman would be 
 at Doncaster. The employes at the tele- 
 graph office are not altogether reticent about 
 the messages that pass through their hands, 
 and it was pretty well known through 
 Tunnleton that Mr. Enderby had been the 
 first man in the town to know of the 
 Wandering Nun's victory at Goodwood. 
 
 Generals Maddox and Praun could hardly 
 
 Q 2
 
 22S A FALSE START. 
 
 be blamed for holding that Maurice specu- 
 lated on the turf, for it would be very diffi- 
 cult to have persuaded the Tunnleton people 
 generally of that, and while the respectable 
 part of the community regarded a betting 
 clergyman as an anomaly that could not be 
 suffered in these days, there was a minor 
 and godless section who had much admiration 
 for Mr. Endcrby's astuteness. It is hard to 
 stem the tide of calumny, more especially 
 when such calumny is based on such ap- 
 parent grounds as there were in Maurice's 
 case. His own acts too combined strongly 
 to strengthen the prevalent belief, the in- 
 terest he had manifested in racing, the tele- 
 gram, his sudden command of money, and, 
 last not least, what his enemies in Tunnle- 
 ton termed his arrogance and effrontery in 
 setting up a carriage and pair of ponies. 
 
 Most of us have some few sworn friends 
 who will stand by us unflinchingly should
 
 " THE SPOTTED DOG." 229 
 
 disaster overtake us, who, if unable to assist 
 us in our trouble, we know will always meet 
 us with sincere sympathy and a hearty hand- 
 grip ; there arc others who, though loyal 
 enough in the first instance, begin to waver 
 as the tide runs high, who begin to calculate 
 and doubt whether they arc prudent in 
 championing what looks like a lost cause. 
 Politic and rather timid people some of these 
 willing to take our part in the first instance, 
 but afraid that it may be to their own detri- 
 ment to continue their partizanship when 
 they find the clouds of popular opinion are 
 gathering thickly around us. Now this was 
 rather Mr. J arrow's case ; he had stood 
 stanchly by Maurice in the first instance, 
 but even that had not been friendship, but 
 his natural obstinacy, combined with much 
 indignation that men like Generals Maddox 
 and Praun should venture to interfere in 
 affairs of his. luit lie was beginning now to
 
 230 A FALSE START. 
 
 waver in his belief in his curate ; evidence 
 continued apparently to accumulate against 
 Mr. Enderby, and that Tunnleton gave 
 credence to such evidence was unmistake- 
 able. Maurice too declined any explanation, 
 and, except to the rector, had hardly conde- 
 scended to deny the accusation brought 
 against him. Mr. Jarrow began to think 
 that it behoved Maurice at least to refute the 
 charge to the utmost extent of his power. 
 lie, the rector, in his interview with Generals 
 Maddox and Praun had actually blustered 
 about bringing an action for libel, and yet 
 Maurice sat down supinely under the scandal, 
 and made no effort to remove the taint from 
 his name. The rector was of a pugnacious 
 disposition, and never happy unless engaged 
 in a word}' war with somebody, and it was 
 wormwood to him that Maurice, by the atti- 
 tude he had taken, precluded all continuance 
 of liis quarrel with the two generals.
 
 "THE SPOTTED DOG.'' 231 
 
 In good truth, ever since Grafton had 
 put the idea into his head, which John Ma- 
 dingly had considerably strengthened, Mau- 
 rice had been weighing in his mind the 
 propriety of his giving up the Church. He 
 had tried it, and, though he had conscien- 
 tiously performed his duties, still he felt he was 
 in no wise fitted for the profession. He had 
 taken to it as a means of living, but before 
 seeking ordination as priest he felt that a man 
 should have some higher feeling regarding 
 it than that, and now he was once more 
 bitten by the turf fever, and, do what he 
 would, could not keep the "Champagnes" out 
 of his head. The success of the " Wander- 
 ing Nun " was not the great object which it 
 had been to him when she secured her first 
 victory ; he was no longer pressed for money, 
 but nobody exists in such affluent circum- 
 stances as not to be very well pleased at the 
 idea of having a little more of that useful
 
 232 A FALSE START. 
 
 commodity. Still it was not so much that, 
 as was the interest he took in the career of 
 the flying- filly ; and if it had not made a 
 penny difference to him he would have been 
 still as deeply interested in the issue of her 
 forth-coming essay at Doncaster. 
 
 The next two or three days slipped by, 
 and at last came the opening day of the 
 great Yorkshire meeting, and Maurice knew 
 that at three o'clock this race, the winner of 
 which so often made his mark in turf history, 
 was to be decided. As the afternoon wore 
 on he could no longer control his restlessness. 
 They must know it in the town now, the 
 Telegram must have arrived at the club, but 
 he did not wish to make any further scandal. 
 He supposed he mnst wait till he got his 
 paper the next morning, but he was resolute 
 not to look in at the club for fear of what 
 might be said as to his reason for coming 
 there.
 
 " THE SPOTTED DOG.'' 233 
 
 He wandered aimlessly about the town 
 till in an evil moment his vagrant footsteps 
 brought him outside a second-class hotel 
 called "The Spotted Dog." He knew this 
 house by repute, he knew it bore the reputa- 
 tion of being a sporting-house, and he had 
 heard some of the young men at the club 
 declare that they knew what had won a big 
 race at " The Spotted Dog " always a quarter 
 of an hour sooner than anywhere else in 
 Tunnleton. In an evil moment he re- 
 solved just to step in and ask the question. 
 lie cast a hurried glance up and down the 
 street, but there were not many people mov- 
 ing about, and nobody he knew was in 
 sight. He ran up the three or four steps and 
 glanced rapidly round for some one of whom 
 to make inquiries. A small knot of rather 
 raffish looking young men were gathered 
 in front of the bar, and one of these saved 
 him all further trouble.
 
 234 A FALSE START. 
 
 " There you are, sir," he said, pointing 
 to the tissue fastened up in the bar window, 
 ' ' won in a canter ; that l Wandering Nun ' 
 is about the best bit of stuff Mr. Brooks ever 
 owned." 
 
 Maurice bent his head in acknowledge- 
 ment of the speaker's civility, and retreated 
 rapidly into the street, which he gained just 
 in time to receive a frigid bow from Miss 
 Torkesly, just issuing from a shop on the 
 other side of the road. Maurice knew all 
 was over as he raised his hat. He felt 
 that Tunnleton would never tolerate this 
 fresh iniquity, that he would be cast out 
 from among them. That question of re- 
 signing the CI lurch was being much simpli- 
 fied, as he could not but think, looking back 
 upon his imprudence. There was much 
 likelihood of the Church resigning him. It 
 was well that it was a nice day for walking, 
 for Miss Torkesly had seldom enjoyed a
 
 " THE SPOTTED DOG ' 235 
 
 busier time than was her lot that afternoon. 
 To whisper into the ears of all her friends 
 and acquaintances that she had seen Mr. 
 Enderby coming out of " The Spotted Dog " 
 was Miss Torkesly's clear and bounden duty 
 before she slept. 
 
 " So dreadful, 1113 dear. Of course we 
 all knew that the poor infatuated man gam- 
 bled, but I'm afraid he drinks as well." 
 
 "It is terrible, but I believe they usually 
 both go together. Fancy, to be seen coming- 
 out of ' The Spotted Dog ' in broad day- 
 light ! I didn't know what to do, and I am 
 afraid I bowed, my dear. Just fancy ! bow- 
 ing to a man who came out of ' The Spotted 
 Dog.' I was too confused and horrified to 
 see, but I daresay he was even walking un- 
 steadily.'' 
 
 Yes, before twenty-four hours were over, 
 the greater part of Tunnleton was aware of 
 Maurice's delinquency. About how the unfor-
 
 23G A FALSE START. 
 
 tunate man left "The Spotted Dog'' ac- 
 counts varied according- to the imagination 
 of the narrator. He was variously described 
 as being the worse for liquor, having reeled 
 down the street, or carried home insensible 
 to his wife. Such a schedule of wrong- 
 doing as was now fded against Maurice 
 Enderby was more than a man could hope 
 utterly to refute. 
 
 It was not likely that Mr. Jarrow would 
 be long left in ignorance of his curate's 
 questionable proceedings. Mrs. Praun picked 
 ii]) the news in the course of her afternoon 
 rambles. The general quite bubbled with 
 excitement upon hearing of it. "Ah," he 
 said, " we will sec what Jarrow has to say 
 to this, lie took a precious high hand with 
 me, and threatened me — me! General Praun, 
 with an action for libel, told me that he had 
 Mr. Enderby 's own word for it that he 
 never bet upon horses, and, when I pointed
 
 " THE SPOTTED DOG." 237 
 
 out his sudden plentiful supply of money, 
 lie informed me that he had nothing to do 
 with that. Mr. Enderby had probably rela- 
 tions who assisted him from time to time. 
 All ! " eontinucd the general, with a trium- 
 phant snort, " I suppose he was looking for 
 one of those relatives at ' The Spotted Dog,' 
 and we shall hear next that his duties neces- 
 sitate his attendance at a public billiard-room ; 
 but I'll have it out with Jarrow to-morrow 
 morning.'' 
 
 General Praun was as good as his word. 
 Habitually an early man, he was at the 
 rector's house almost as soon as he had 
 finished his breakfast, and desired to see 
 him. Shown into Mr. Jarrow's study, he 
 plunged at once into his subject, and dilated 
 upon it with such volubility that his as- 
 tounded host was unable to get a word in. 
 
 " I told you so, Jarrow, I have told you 
 all along, that this paragon of a curate of
 
 238 A FALSE START. 
 
 yours was a dissolute young man quite un- 
 fitted for his position. There is nothing 
 
 remarkable in it ; you are not the first rector 
 
 - 
 
 by many who has been similarly deceived ; 
 but you are so obstinate ; you shut your ears 
 to what your parishioners tell you." 
 
 " Obstinate ? me?" suddenly interposed the 
 Rev. Jacob. " If there was ever a man open 
 to conviction ; if ever there was a man pre- 
 pared to listen to facts or contravention of 
 his own opinions, I flatter myself I am that 
 man." 
 
 " Very good, then," said General Praun. 
 " You have been told that Enderby gambles. 
 You now hear upon unimpeachable testimony 
 that he frequents what, though he may call it 
 a second-class hotel, I should denominate a 
 sporting public. If you think that befitting 
 one of your cloth well and good, but you 
 won't find Tunnletori agree with you.'' 
 
 " I need scarcely say," rejoined Mr.
 
 "THE SPOTTED DOG." 239 
 
 Jarrow, who had by this time somewhat 
 recovered himself, " that I have heard 
 nothing of this before ; that I should make 
 inquiry into such a rumour is matter of 
 course." 
 
 " It is no matter of rumour, I tell you," 
 snapped Praun, irritably. 
 
 11 Then, sir," rejoined Mr. Jarrow, in his 
 pompous manner, " it will be so much the 
 easier to investigate. Rumours are difficult 
 to grapple with ; facts demand explana- 
 tion. I shall withhold my opinion till I 
 have spoken to Mr. Enderby on the sub- 
 ject." 
 
 And the rather stately bow with which 
 Mr. Jarrow intimated that their interview 
 was at an end made the hot-tempered 
 Praun's very pulses tingle. 
 
 cl They take too much upon themselves, 
 these parsons. By Jove ! Jarrow dismissed 
 me as I used to dismiss a subaltern in the
 
 240 A FALSE START. 
 
 old days. Bowed me out as if I had been 
 a mere nobody instead of a general officer." 
 And with these thoughts Praun fumed along- 
 
 O CD 
 
 on his way to study the daily papers at the 
 Tunnleton Club.
 
 241 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " BETTER I SHOULD RETIRE NOW." 
 
 Maurice told his wife that evening what 
 had happened; and Bessie at first by no 
 means realized the consequence of his im- 
 prudence. She did not even know, as was 
 very natural, the name of this second-class 
 hostelry. She did not see that because 
 upon one occasion her husband once entered 
 an hotel it should be looked upon as any 
 great crime on his part. A score of reasons 
 might have taken him there — reasons which 
 
 VOL. II. R
 
 242 A FALSE STAltT. 
 
 might be proclaimed from the house-tops. 
 And it was not until Maurice explained to 
 her that " The Spotted Dog" had the re- 
 putation of being a sporting-house, pointed 
 out to her that Doncaster races were going 
 on, and reminded her that he had been 
 charged with betting on horse-racing, and 
 that, though it was not true, his denial 
 thereof had never been half believed in 
 Tunnleton, — that she grasped what would 
 probably be the outcome of this last impru- 
 dence. 
 
 " Ah, Maurice," she said, " Uncle John 
 meant well, and from a money point of 
 view his gift has proved princely, but I 
 am afraid it will turn out a fatal wedding 
 present in the end." 
 
 "You are always .saying that," he re- 
 rejoined, testily; "but I think this last 
 escapade is very likely to terminate my 
 engagement at Tunnleton. Jarrow stood
 
 " BETTER I SHOULD RETIRE NOW." 243 
 
 by me in the first instance like a thorough 
 gentleman. He took my word that the 
 charge was false, and refused to listen 
 further to what my traducers said, but, look- 
 ing back, I think that was due in part to 
 the natural combativeness of his nature ; 
 moreover, he will very likely tire of per- 
 petually fighting my battles. Do you know, 
 Bessie, I am thinking seriously of giving 
 up the Church." 
 
 Now, much as he had thought over this 
 himself, Maurice had never said a word to 
 his wife on the subject, and her first feeling 
 was that of repugnance at the idea. u Oh, 
 Maurice," she said, " you would surely never 
 do that ! " 
 
 " Why not ?" he said ; "it is surely better 
 
 that I should retire now than become positively 
 
 enrolled in a profession for which I feel I am 
 
 unfitted. I shall never make a good clergy- 
 
 r2
 
 244 A FALSE START. 
 
 man, but I think I have stuff in me, and 
 could do good work in some other calling." 
 
 Still, Bessie was not to be reconciled to 
 the idea ; she urged him to consider well 
 what lie was about, pointing out that, though 
 he might have been imprudent, he had 
 really done nothing wrong, and that there 
 were other places besides Tunnleton in 
 which he could obtain a curacy. 
 
 " Oh, it's a thing that there will be plenty 
 of time to think about. Jarrow is not likely 
 to wish me to leave until he has found 
 some one to supply my place. However, 
 we shall doubtless have some conversation 
 on the subject to-morrow, as a conflagration 
 in a high wind spreadeth not so quick as 
 scandal in the mouth of the Torkeslys." 
 
 Maurice had not long to wait. General 
 Praun had left the house not ten minutes 
 when a servant was on his way to Mr. 
 Enderby's with a note, intimating that the
 
 " BETTER I SHOULD RETIRE NOW." 215 
 
 rector wanted to see him as soon as pos- 
 sible. Maurice was quite as anxious for the 
 interview as Mr. Jarrow, and according^ 
 lost no time in making- the best of his way 
 to the rectory. He was admitted at once 
 to the Reverend Jacob's sanctum, and there 
 found that gentleman in a most unmistak- 
 able state of fume and fidget. It was 
 matter of deep annoyance to Mr. Jarrow 
 when any protege of his — and he was much 
 given to taking people up — was found want- 
 ing ; lie prided himself especially upon in- 
 sight into character, and that his swans 
 should occasionally turn out geese was 
 always sore vexation to him. He snatched 
 greedily at all petty pieces of patronage 
 which fell at all within his reach ; from the 
 nomination of a pew-opener to recommend- 
 in s a man as a fit candidate for the town 
 constabulary, Mr. Jarrow always endea- 
 voured to have a finger in the pie ; that any
 
 246 A FALSE START. 
 
 curate of his should be deemed unfit for his 
 position was casting much discredit on his 
 sagacity. 
 
 " Sit down, Mr. Enderby," he remarked, 
 their first greetings over. " I have sent for 
 you upon a very unpleasant business ; but 
 the fact has been pointedly brought to my 
 notice, and it is incumbent upon me to ask 
 you for an explanation." 
 
 " I will save you all further preamble, Mr. 
 Jarrow," replied Maurice. tl You have been 
 told that I was seen coming out of ' The 
 Spotted Dog ' yesterday. Perfectly true, 
 I was. — Why did I go in there ? To learn 
 the result of a race in which my wife's uncle, 
 John Madingley, had got a horse running. 
 Had I any bets on it ? Most certainly not. 
 I never have bet upon horse-racing, except 
 in a very trifling way before T married, and 
 most assuredly I have never wagered a six- 
 pence since on that or anything else."
 
 " BETTER I SHOULD RETIRE NOW." 247 
 
 Mr. Jarrow paused for some minutes 
 before lie replied. He thoroughly believed 
 Maurice, but then he felt at the same time 
 that nineteen people out of twenty in 
 Tunnlcton would not. 
 
 "Mr. Enderby," he said at length, 
 " although I am quite willing to accept your 
 explanation, you must be aware that the 
 public will not. As some eminent man, 
 whose name just now I forget, has said, 
 mistakes are worse than crimes. You must 
 forgive my saying that since you have been 
 among us your life seems to have been a 
 succession of blunders. You have, by your 
 own imprudence, put yourself so completely 
 in the wrong light, that I am afraid it will 
 be impossible to convince the public that 
 you don't gamble, and, from what I heard 
 this morning, they are likely to add drink to 
 your transgressions. I have stood by you 
 as long as I could, but you must excuse my
 
 218 A FALSE START. 
 
 saying," and few would have given the 
 pompous rector credit for the kindliness 
 with which the words fell from his lips, 
 "that, under the circumstances, you can 
 exercise no influence for good in the 
 parish." 
 
 '* I quite agree with you, Mr. Jarrow," 
 replied Maurice, quickly, " and, as you were 
 doubtless about to say it is better under 
 those circumstances we should part, we will 
 look upon that as clearly understood between 
 us, and I shall remain now only so long as 
 suits your convenience." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Endcrby, you have taken the 
 words out of my mouth, but I do think that 
 will be the best arrangement we can arrive 
 at. Shall we say, sir, about two months 
 from this date ? That will give you time to 
 look round as well as me." 
 
 " I have to thank you, Mr. Jarrow," said 
 Maurice rising, " for much kindness since I
 
 " BETTER I SHOULD RETIRE NOW." 249 
 
 have been here, and shall be very glad to 
 time my departure with regard to your con- 
 venience. As for myself, let me tell you in 
 strict confidence that I have quite made up 
 my mind to resign the profession. And 
 now, for the present, I will say good- 
 morning." 
 
 Mr. Jarrow remained for some time after 
 Maurice's departure in a brown study. He 
 shook his head two or three times, like a 
 man who has come across a phenomenon 
 beyond his comprehension. He had had 
 curates resign before now, but this was his 
 first experience of a young man resigning 
 the profession as well as the curacy. 
 
 It soon became evident to Maurice that 
 Tunnleton society was unfeignedly shocked 
 at the last scandal in connection with his 
 name. That he should dabble in horse- 
 racing had been deplorable, shocking in the 
 eyes of most people, but a clergyman who
 
 250 A FALSE START. 
 
 "frequented public houses" (that he had 
 only been seen entering; one once was a fact 
 quite lost sight of) had put himself quite 
 without the pale. When Tunnleton heard 
 that he was going away, it shook its head, 
 and opined that Mr. Jarrow could do no less. 
 It was a sad pity that a young man should 
 be so depraved, but of course he was useless 
 in his present position, and Tunnleton feared 
 would do no good any where. And now 
 curiously enough a reaction set in in favour 
 of Mrs. Enderby. How it began one hardly 
 knew, but Bessie had made some few friends 
 in the place, and it probably owed its origin 
 to them. It suddenly became the fashion to 
 express great commiseration for "poor Mrs. 
 Enderby," and society delighted to paint ima- 
 ginary pictures of Bessie vainly attempting 
 to keep her husband in the straight path. It 
 was difficult to say which suffered most from 
 the new order of things — Maurice or his wife.
 
 " BETTER I SHOULD RETIRE NOW." 251 
 
 He on his part was subject to the most freez- 
 ing return to his salutations, but I doubt if 
 that was so hard to bear as the ostentatious 
 pity to which his wife was subjected. 
 Nothing was ever said to her, but the ladies of 
 Tunnleton had determined that she was to 
 be pitied and condoled with, and their faces 
 could not have expressed more mournful 
 sympathy had she been lamenting the actual 
 loss of husband. They both agreed that 
 Tunnleton was unendurable, and Maurice 
 speedily asked Mr. Jarrow to release him as 
 soon as possible. 
 
 Two people there were who Maurice de- 
 termined to take into his confidence. One 
 of these was Frank Chylton, to whom he had 
 already told the story of his singular wedding 
 gift. He now thought it only right to 
 explain to him the itching curiosity that 
 had led him to commit the imprudence of 
 entering " The Spotted Dog." The other 
 was General Shrewster. The latter had
 
 252 A FALSE START. 
 
 heard the whole story of the wedding pre- 
 sent from John Madingley, and the comic 
 side of the business had tickled him im- 
 mensely. 
 
 li I can understand his reticence," he said, 
 " but I am afraid it is destined to do him a 
 good deal of harm here. You see this is an 
 eminently respectable place, extremely ortho- 
 dox and all that sort of thing, and. when 
 people are that, they are always not willing 
 but greedy to believe the very worst of their 
 neighbours.'' 
 
 But when Maurice told him of this second 
 imprudence the general simply roared with 
 laughter. 
 
 "My dear Enderby," he said, "how 
 could you do it ? You know you were, so to 
 speak, under the ban of Tunnlcton, now 
 you'll be positively outlawed ; what are you 
 going to do ? You will never make head 
 
 against it. 
 
 >>
 
 " BETTER I SHOULD RETIRE NOW." 253 
 
 " I am not going to try," replied Maurice 
 quietly ; " I have resigned my curacy and 
 am only waiting now as a convenience to 
 Mr. Jarrow. Further, general, I consider 
 myself unsuited to the profession, and am 
 going to adopt some other calling." 
 
 " There I think you are right ; it's a 
 pity that you've thrown away a whole 
 year, but anything is better than a life- 
 long mistake. I can only say 1 shall be 
 very glad to help you should it at all lie in 
 my power. As far as ways and means go, 
 your uncle promised to assist you to a start; 
 still, I should be afraid his interest would 
 lie chiefly in the profession you are about 
 to abandon. For myself, I have none 
 except in my old trade." 
 
 " Thank you very much, general," re- 
 plied Maurice ; "I will ask for your good 
 word without fail should I want it, but at
 
 254 A FALSE START. 
 
 present I have not made up my mind as 
 to what I shall do." 
 
 " Will you let me give you one piece of 
 advice, the warning of a man who has been 
 through the furnace : keep clear of the race- 
 course whatever you do. I was a rich man 
 once, and should be so now had I not been 
 bitten by the turf tarantula. I took the 
 fever very badly, and, unless I very much 
 mistake, you are a man likely to contract 
 it in its most virulent form. It makes your 
 pulses tingle even now, and you will pro- 
 bably be quite carried away if you find 
 yourself in the thick of the fray. There, I 
 am going to say no more," said the general, 
 laughing ; "a word is more likely to be 
 remembered than a sermon in these cases. 
 Of course my mouth is closed about what 
 you have told me, but I think the sooner 
 you allow Chylton and myself to make the 
 whole story public the better."
 
 "BETTER I SHOULD RETIRE NOW." 255 
 
 " I don't want it published until I am 
 gone," replied Maurice ; " I am too angry 
 to care to right myself in the eyes of the 
 people here ; and now I will say good-bye 
 for the present." 
 
 END OF VOL. II.
 
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