The Hundredth Chance Page 4

  CHAPTER III

  THE NEW ACQUAINTANCE

  They reached the sunny stretch of parade in time to see the youngchestnut that had excited Bunny's interest being coaxed along the edgeof the water by his rider. The animal was covered with froth, andevidently in a ferment of nervous excitement. The man who rode him satloosely in the saddle as if the tussle in progress were of very minorimportance in his estimation. He kept the fretting creature's headturned towards the water, however, and at intervals he patted thestreaming neck and spoke a few words of encouragement.

  At Bunny's request his chair was drawn to the edge of the parade, andfrom here he and Maud watched the progress of the battle. A battle ofwills it undoubtedly was, though there was nothing in the man's attitudeto indicate any strain. He was obviously one who knew how to bide histime, thick-set, bull-necked, somewhat bullet-headed, with a face ofeven redness and a short, blunt nose that looked aggressively confident.

  "Wonder if he'll do it," said Bunny.

  Maud wondered too, realizing that the task would be no easy one. Thehorse was plainly on edge with apprehension, and her sympathies went outto him. Somehow she did not want to see him conquered. In fact, notgreatly admiring the physiognomy of his rider, she hoped the horse wouldwin.

  Stepping with extreme daintiness, as if he expected the ground to openand swallow him, the animal sidled past, and she caught the gleam of awicked eye as he went. There was mischief mingled with his fear. Heevidently was not feeling particularly kindly disposed towards the manwho rode him. The loose seat of the latter made her wonder if he werewholly aware of this.

  "He'll be thrown if he isn't careful," she said, half to herself andhalf to Bunny, who was watching with the keenest interest.

  "Hope he'll tumble into the water," said Bunny, who enjoyed dramaticsituations.

  The pair had passed them and were continuing their sidling progressalong the beach. The man still appeared preoccupied, the horse stillhalf-frightened, half-mischievous. Some fifty yards they covered thus;then the figure in the saddle slowly stiffened. Aware of an impendingchange of treatment, the animal began to jib with his head in the air.An odd little thrill went through Maud, a feeling as of electricity inthe air. It was almost a sensation of foreboding. And then clean andgrim as a pistol-shot, she heard the crack of a whip on the creature'squivering flank.

  It was a well-earned correction, deliberately administered, one stingingcut, delivered with a calculation that knew exactly where to strike.But the horse, a young animal, leapt into the air as if he had been shotindeed, and landing again almost on the same spot began forwith tobuck-jump in frenzied efforts to free himself of the task-master whoselash was so unerring.

  The whip descended again with absolute precision. It looked almost likea feat of jugglery to Maud's fascinated eyes. The horse uttered afurious squeal. He was being forced, literally forced, into the hatedwater, and he knew it, set himself with all the fiery unreason of youthto resist, and incidentally to receive a punishment none the lesspainful on account of its extreme deliberation.

  As for his rider, he kept his seat without apparent effort. He kept histemper also to all outward appearance. He even in the thick of thestruggle abandoned force and tried coaxing again. It was only when thisfailed that it seemed to the watching girl that a certain quality ofimplacability began to manifest itself. His movements were no lessstudied, but they seemed to her to become relentless. From that momentshe knew with absolute certainty that there could be but one end to thestruggle.

  Some dim suspicion of the same thing must have penetrated the animal'sintelligence also, for almost from the same moment he seemed to loseheart. He still bucked away from the water and leapt in futile frenzyunder the unsparing whip; but his fury was past. He no longer tried tofling his rider over his head. He seemed to be fighting to save hispride rather than for any other reason.

  But his pride had to go. Endurance had its limits, and his smooth,clipped flanks were smarting intolerably. Very suddenly he gave in andwalked into the water.

  It foamed alarmingly round his legs, and he started in genuine terrorand tried to turn; but on the instant a hand was on his neck, a square,sustaining hand that patted and consoled.

  "Now, don't be a fool horse any longer!" said his conqueror. "Don't youknow it's going to do you good? Go on and face it!"

  He went on, splashing his rider thoroughly, first in sheer nervousness,later in undisguised content.

  He came out of the water some five minutes later, a wiser andconsiderably less headstrong youngster than he had entered it, andwalked serenely along the edge as if he had been accustomed to it allhis life. When the spreading foam washed round his hoofs, he did not somuch as lay an ear. He had surrendered his pride, and he did not seemto feel the sacrifice.

  "A beastly tame ending!" said Bunny in frank disappointment. "I hopedthe fellow was going to break his neck."

  The horseman was passing immediately below them. He looked up, and Maudcoloured a guilty scarlet, realizing that he had overheard the remark.He had the most startlingly bright eyes she had ever seen. They methers with a directness that seemed to pierce straight through her, andpassed on unblinkingly to the boy in the long chair. There was somethinglynx-like in the straight regard, something so deliberately intent thatit seemed formidable. His clean-shaven, weather-beaten face had anuntamed, primitive look about it, as of one born in the wilderness. Hismouth was rugged rather than coarse, but it was not the mouth ofcivilization.

  Bunny, who was not easily daunted, looked hard back at him, with thebrazen expression of one challenging a rebuke. But the horseman refusedthe challenge, passing on without a word.

  "I'm tired," said Bunny, in sudden discontent. "Let's go back!"

  When he spoke in that tone, he was invariably beyond coaxing. Maudturned the chair without protest, and prepared to make that exhaustingascent.

  "How slow you are to-day!" said Bunny peevishly. "I hate this beastlyhill. You make me go up it on my head!"

  The slant was certainly acute. Maud murmured sympathy. "I would pullyou up if I could," she said.

  "You've never even tried," said Bunny.

  He was plainly in an exacting mood. Her heart sank a little lower."It's no use trying, darling," she said. "I know I can't. But I won'ttake a minute longer over it than I can help."

  "You never do anything decently," said Bunny in disgust.

  Maud made no rejoinder. She bent in silence to her task.

  Bunny could not see her face, and she strove desperately to control herpanting breath.

  "You puff like a grampus," the boy said discontentedly.

  There came the quick fall of a horse's hoofs behind them, and Maud benther flushed face a little lower. She did not want to meet that piercingregard again. But the hoof-beats slackened behind her, and a voicespoke--a voice so curiously soft that at the first sound she almostbelieved it to be that of a woman.

  "Say! That's too heavy a job for you."

  She paused--it was inevitable--and looked round.

  In the same moment he slid to the ground--a square, sturdy figure,shorter than she had imagined him when he was in the saddle, horsey ofaspect, clumsy of build, possessing a breadth of chest that seemed toindicate vast strength.

  Again those extremely bright eyes met hers, red-brown, intensely alive.She felt as if they saw too much; they made her vividly conscious of herhot face and labouring heart. They embarrassed her, made her resentful.

  She was too breathless to speak; perhaps she might not have done so inany case. But he did not wait for that. He pushed forward till he stoodbeside her.

  "You take my animal!" he said. "He's quiet enough now."

  She might have refused, had she had time to consider. But he gave hernone. He almost thrust the bridle into her hands, and the next momenthe had taken her place behind the invalid-chair and begun briskly topush it up the hill.

  Maud followed,
leading the now docile horse, divided between annoyanceand gratitude. Bunny seemed struck dumb also, though whether withembarrassment or merely surprise she could not tell.

  At the top of the steep ascent the stranger stopped and faced round."Thanks!" he said briefly, and took his horse back into his own keeping.

  Maud stood, feeling shy and awkward, while he set his foot in thestirrup. Then, ere he mounted, with a desperate effort she spoke.

  "It was very kind of you. Thank you very much."

  Her voice sounded coldly formal by reason of her extreme discomfiture.She would have given a good deal to have avoided speaking altogether.But the man stopped dead and looked at her as though she had attemptedto detain him.

  "You've nothing to thank me for," he said, in that queer, soft voice ofhis. "As I said before, it's too heavy a job for you. You'll get agroggy heart if you keep on with it."

  There was no intentional familiarity in the speech; but it made herstiffen instinctively.

  "It was very kind of you," she repeated, and with a bow that was evenmore freezingly polite than her words she turned to the chair andprepared to walk on.

  But at this point Bunny suddenly found his voice in belatedacknowledgment of the service rendered. "Hi! You! Stop a minute!Thanks for pushing me up this beastly hill!"

  The stranger was still standing with his foot in the stirrup; but at thesound of Bunny's voice he took it out again and came to the boy's side,leading his horse.

  "What a beauty!" said Bunny, admiringly. "Let me touch him, I say!"

  "Oh, don't!" Maud said nervously. "He looked so savage just now."

  "He's not savage," said the horse's owner, and pulled the animal's nosedown to Bunny's eager, caressing hand.

  The creature was plainly suspicious. He tried to avoid the caress, buthis master and Bunny were equally insistent, and he finally submitted.

  "He's not savage," his rider said again. "He's only young and a bitheady; wants a little shaping--like all youngsters."

  Bunny's shrewd eyes flashed him a rapid glance, meeting the red-browneyes deliberately scrutinizing him. With a certain blunt courage thatwas his, he tackled the situation.

  "I say, did you hear what I said down on the parade?"

  The man smiled a little, still watching Bunny's red face. "Did you meanme to hear?" he enquired.

  "No," said Bunny, staring back, half-fascinated and half-defiant.

  "All right then. I didn't," the horseman said.

  Bunny's expression changed. He smiled; and when he smiled his lostyouth looked out of his worn face. "Good for you!" he said. "I say, Ihope we shall see you again some time."

  "If you are here for long, you probably will," the man made answer.

  "Do you live here?" Bunny's voice was eager. His eyes sparkled withinterest.

  The man nodded. "Yes, I'm a fixture. And you?"

  "Oh, we're going to be fixtures too," said Bunny. "This is my sisterMaud. I am Sir Bernard Brian."

  Maud's ready blush rose burningly. She fidgeted to be gone. Bunny'sswaggering announcement made her long to sink through the earth. Shedreaded to hear his listener laugh, even looked up in surprise when nolaugh came.

  He was surveying Bunny with that same unblinking regard that haddisconcerted her. The slight smile was still on his face, but it wasnot a derisive smile.

  After a moment he said, "My name is Bolton--Jake Bolton. Think you canremember that?"

  "What are you?" said Bunny, with frank curiosity.

  "I?" The faint smile suddenly broadened, showing teeth that were largeand very white. "I am a groom," the horseman said.

  "Are you?" The boy's eyes opened wide. "Then you're not a mister!" hesaid.

  "Oh no, I'm not a mister!" There was certainly a laugh in the womanishvoice this time, but it held no open ridicule. "I'm plain Jake Bolton.You can call me Bolton or Jake--which ever you like. Good day, SirBernard!"

  He backed his horse with the words, and mounted.

  Maud did not look at him. She felt too overwhelmed. Moreover, she wassure--painfully sure--that he looked at her, and she thought there mustbe at least amusement in his eyes.

  With relief she heard him turn his horse and trot down the hill. He hadnot even been going their way, then. Her face burned afresh.

  "What a queer fish!" said Bunny. "Hullo! What are you so red about?"

  "I wish you wouldn't tell people your title," she said. "They onlylaugh."

  "He didn't laugh when I told him," said Bunny. "And why shouldn't I?I've a right to it."

  He would not see her point she knew. But she made an attempt toexplain. "He would have liked to call himself a gentleman," she said."But--he didn't."

  "That's quite different," said Bunny loftily. "He knows he isn't one."

  Maud abandoned the argument then, because--though it was against herjudgment--she found that she wanted to agree.