Chapter 14

DAN'S SECRET.

All that night it rained heavily, but Dan woke next morning to find that the clouds had dispersed. He was later than usual, and the sun was already over the rim of the sea. The dell was chilly and dripping with damp, while the ground was moist, and the pine trees were of a fresh green hue. In the silent hours the world had been thoroughly cleansed, and there was a new vigour in the air which caused the blood to speed more rapidly through his veins. The rain had drawn perfumes from the bosom of the earth, and the dell smelt like a garden of spices, and smoked with vapour like a sacrificial altar.

Having taken the precaution to keep some wood in his caravan, he soon had a brisk fire burning, and forthwith proceeded to prepare breakfast. Owing to the lateness of the hour, and a timely remembrance that the heavy rains probably rendered the paths too slippery for Simon, he did not go down for his usual swim, but pottered about till noon, at which time he expected the vicar. To do honour to his guest, Dan made due preparation, and when the sun was up over the backbone of the ridge, found that there was nothing wanting save the presence of his visitor. His occupation being thus gone, he sat on a log beside his fire, and meditated over a pipe concerning the conversation of the previous night. There were many things to consider touching his position.

So far he had not advanced one step in proving that his doubts had any foundation in fact. If there was any understanding between the gipsies and Dr. Merle--if Miss Linisfarne was connected at all with the affair--he could not decide without proof, and proof there was none. He felt sure that Mother Jericho held the key to the riddle which so perplexed him, but she was too cunning to reveal aught likely to be of use in elucidating the mystery. At times Dan felt disposed to think that his fears were groundless, that he was making a mountain out of a molehill; but when he again ran over the occurrences of the last week in his mind, he became sure that his instinct was right. There was something going on of which he knew nothing, It concerned himself and Meg Merle, but in what way he could by no means decide. Such hidden doings made him uneasy, after the fashion of men who ever fear the unseen.

Under these circumstances he judged it advisable to consult Jarner, and ask his advice. The old vicar was a man of great common sense, and from his long residence in Farbis was well acquainted with those whom Dan suspected. He knew Miss Linisfarne; he had some knowledge of Dr. Merle; and, in their occasional visits to Farbis, he doubtless was aware of the gipsies' characters. With such knowledge, helped out by information on certain points from Dan, the truth might be pieced together. Failing Jarner, Dan did not know to whom to apply for assistance.

"Yes," he decided, springing to his feet and pacing the dell, "I shall confide in Jarner, and tell him who I am. The knowledge of my name may assist him to an explanation; though what I can possibly have to do with these mysteries it is impossible to say. But there is no doubt that Tim, Mother Jericho, Merle, and Miss Linisfarne have an understanding together. As to Meg, she is as innocent and as ignorant as I. Jarner alone can help me; and when I confess my identity, I have no doubt he will tell me his story, or, rather, the stories of Merle and Miss Linisfarne."

His thoughts halted at the last name, and turned off in the direction of Farbis Court and its strange tenant. She puzzled him more than did the others.

"I must see her," he muttered thoughtfully. "Jarner may be able to take me there; or, failing him, I shall ask Meg to help me. Once I am face to face with her and I may learn something. Pshaw! I am deluding myself with shadows. Perhaps no mystery exists save in my imagination. Well, at all events, I shall confide in Mr. Jarner. His common sense will either dispel the shadows or turn them to reality."

While thus soliloquizing after the manner of solitary men, he became aware that a dog-fight was in progress. Jarner's terriers were assaulting Peter in his own dell, and the three combatants were rolling over on the miry ground in a confused mass. Dan, seeing that Peter was outmatched, shut him up in the caravan for safety, and then turned to greet his visitor. The vicar did not immediately respond to his welcome, being busily engaged in correcting the terriers. His hunting-crop was in full play, and Peter answered the howls of his late antagonists from the caravan. At length quiet was restored, and Jarner, wiping the perspiration off his face, shook Dan by the hand. As for the terriers, they retreated to a safe distance and sat down with the air of martyrs.

"By St. Beorl!" said Jarner, making use of his favourite expression, "fox-terriers are the most quarrelsome of dogs. Never a day passes without my rascals getting into a scrape."

"They resent Peter as a trespasser, no doubt," replied Dan, equably. "I am glad to see you, sir. Sit down on this log, and make yourself at home."

"Whew! It's no easy task for a man of my years to climb these hills. I am too flabby for such exertion. So this is your abode for the present?"

"Yes. Sufficiently comfortable, don't you think?"

"Hum! Sheltered enough; but for my part, sir, I should not care about camping out in such weather as we had last night."

"Oh, I was safe in my caravan. But you must be hungry, and the midday meal is ready. I've scratched together some edibles, but I am afraid the fare is rough."

"Bottled beer, sausages, cold beef! I must say, young man, that you know how to make yourself comfortable."

"We learn other things at Magdalen besides the lore of the schools," said Dan, smiling. "I am not a believer in hermit's fare."

Mr. Jarner nodded, to intimate that he was of the same mind, and set to work on what was before him. Dan assisted with no mean appetite, and for the next half-hour they ate, drank, and were merry. Vicar and vagrant fraternized famously, and by the time their pipes were lighted were on the most friendly terms. Pleasure over, they proceeded to business.

"Well, sir," said Jarner, looking curiously at his host, "I am here in response to your invitation. What have you to say?"

"Many things, Mr. Jarner. I am afraid I roused your curiosity the other night."

"I don't deny it, Dan. Why did you couple the name of Merle with that of Tinker Tim?"

"Because I believe they have an understanding together."

"Humph! An understanding about what?--about whom?"

"That is the very thing I wish to find out, Mr. Jarner. It concerns Meg."

The vicar suddenly raised his eyes and examined Dan's face with the closest attention. He looked puzzled and thoughtful.

"It concerns Meg," he repeated slowly. "Ay, ay; and in what way?"

"That I can't say. Now, you----"

"I am afraid I can give you no assistance," said Jarner, a trifle stiffly. "So far as I know, there can be no connection between the gipsies and the doctor. What are your grounds for such a belief?"

"I was talking to Dr. Merle about his daughter, and suggested in a jocular way that if he found the young lady difficult to manage, he should ask Miss Linisfarne to adopt her."

"And what did he say to that?"

"He turned as white as paper, and asked me if Tim had told me anything."

"Strange--very strange!" said the vicar, reflectively. "What did he mean by such a remark?"

"I wish to find that out," repeated Dan for the second time.

"For what reason, may I ask?"

"Well," said the other, reflectively, "it sounds somewhat egotistical, but I have an idea that there is something going on between the gipsies, Dr. Merle, and Miss Linisfarne which concerns me."

"Concerns you!" repeated Jarner, in surprise. "Why, what can a stranger like yourself have in common with such people?"

"Nothing that I know of. But perhaps I had better tell you how I came here, and leave you to judge for yourself."

"I am all attention," said the vicar, seriously, laying down his pipe, "and I must confess that I am curious to know who you are."

"That is easily answered," returned Dan, smiling. "I am Lord Ardleigh."

Jarner rose to his feet, with an expression of blank astonishment in his rubicund face. The information took him completely by surprise. He had guessed long ago that Dan was a gentleman, but never for a moment dreamt that he was a man of title.

"Lord Ardleigh," he repeated slowly--"the owner of Farbis Court?"

"That identical person, Mr. Jarner."

The vicar pinched his nether lip between finger and thumb. A frown passed over his face, and he looked curiously at the nobleman.

"Why are you masquerading as a cheap-jack, my lord?"

"For no unworthy purpose, I assure you, sir. Sit down, and I will tell you my story, though it must be confessed it is the most prosaic of tales."

Having picked up and relighted his pipe, Jarner resumed his seat on the log. Though controlling all outward expression of his feelings, he was uneasy at the revelation lately made. A lord masquerading as a vagrant was too much out of the ordinary course of things for him to accept it without disturbance. Ardleigh was the owner of Farbis Court, of Farbis village, and the patron of the living, yet Jarner gave him neither his hand nor a welcome. He was no truckler to rank, and first wished to hear the reason of the young man's visit before accepting him as a friend. Dan guessed his thoughts, and admired him all the more for such independence.

"Lord Ardleigh----" began the vicar, when the other cut him short.

"One moment, Mr. Jarner," he said coolly. "I have told you who I am because I wish for your assistance. But I do not want any one else to know; so please call me Dan, as you have hitherto done. Now, do not frown, my dear sir! I see you think my visit here is influenced by unworthy motives. I assure you that is a mistake. Hear my story before you condemn me, and meanwhile let us suppose that Ardleigh is in London, and call me Dan."

There was a humorous smile on his lips as he made this speech, and the vicar was not proof against the charm of his manner. Instinct told him that the young man was to be trusted.

"Well, then, Dan," said Jarner, his face clearing, "let me hear what you have to say."