The Loudwater Mystery | Page 3

to
like it."
"What did she _say_?" cried Lord Loudwater in a sudden, startling
bellow, and his eyes shone red.
Mr. Manley winced and said quickly: "She said it was just like you."
"Just like me? Hey? And what did she mean by that?" cried Lord
Loudwater loudly and angrily.
Mr. Manley expressed utter ignorance by looking blank and shrugging
his shoulders.
"The jade! She's had six hundred a year for more than two years. Did
she think it would go on for ever?" cried his employer.
"No," said Mr. Manley.
"And why didn't she think it would go on for ever? Hey?" said Lord
Loudwater in a challenging tone.
"Because there wasn't an actual deed of settlement," said Mr. Manley.
"The ungrateful jade! I've a good mind to stop it altogether!" cried his
employer.
Mr. Manley said nothing. His face was blank; it neither approved nor
disapproved the suggestion.

Lord Loudwater scowled at him and said: "I expect she said she wished
she'd never had anything to do with me."
"No," said Mr. Manley.
"I'll bet that's what she thinks," growled Lord Loudwater.
Mr. Manley let the suggestion pass without comment. His face was
blank.
"And what's she going to do about it?" said Lord Loudwater in a tone
of challenge.
"She's going to see you about it."
"I'm damned if she is!" cried Lord Loudwater hastily, in a much less
assured tone.
Mr. Manley permitted a faint, sceptical smile to wreathe his lips.
"What are you grinning at? If you think she'll gain anything by doing
that, she won't," said Lord Loudwater, with a blustering truculence.
Mr. Manley wondered. Helena Truslove was a lady of considerable
force of character. He suspected that if Lord Loudwater had ever been
afraid of a fellow-creature, he must at times have been afraid of Helena
Truslove. He fancied that now he was not nearly as fearless as he
sounded. He did not say so.
His employer was silent, buried in scowling reflection. Mr. Manley
gazed at him without any great intentness, and came to the conclusion
that he did not merely detest him, he loathed him.
Presently he said: "There's a cheque from Hanbury and Johnson for
twelve thousand and forty-six pounds for the rubber shares your
lordship sold. It wants endorsing."
He handed the cheque across the table to Lord Loudwater. Lord
Loudwater dipped his pen in the ink, transfixed a struggling bluebottle,

and drew it out.
"Why the devil don't you see that the ink is fresh?" he roared.
"It is fresh. The bluebottle must have just fallen into it," said Mr.
Manley in an unruffled tone.
Lord Loudwater cursed the bluebottle, restored it to the ink-pot,
endorsed the cheque, and tossed it across the table to Mr. Manley.
"By the way," said Mr. Manley, with some hesitation, "there's another
anonymous letter."
"Why didn't you burn it? I told you to burn 'em all," snapped his
employer.
"This one is not about you. It's about Hutchings," said Mr. Manley in
an explanatory tone.
"Hutchings? What about Hutchings?"
"You'd better read it," said Mr. Manley, handing him the letter. "It
seems to be from some spiteful woman."
The letter was indeed written in female handwriting, and it accused the
butler, wordily enough, of having received a commission from Lord
Loudwater's wine merchants on a purchase of fifty dozen of champagne
which he had bought from them a month before. It further stated that he
had received a like commission on many other such purchases.
Lord Loudwater read it, scowling, sprang up from his chair with his
eyes protruding further than usual, and cried: "The scoundrel! The
blackguard! I'll teach him! I'll gaol him!"
He dashed at the electric bell by the fireplace, set his thumb on it, and
kept it there.
Holloway, the second footman, came running. The servants knew their
master's ring. They always ran to answer it, after some discussion as to

which of them should go.
He entered and said: "Yes, m'lord?"
"Send that scoundrel Hutchings to me! Send him at once!" roared his
master.
"Yes, m'lord," said Holloway, and hurried away.
He found James Hutchings in his pantry, told him that their master
wanted him, and added that he was in a tearing rage.
Hutchings, who never expected his sanguine and irascible master to be
in any other mood, finished the paragraph of the article in the Daily
Telegraph he was reading, put on his coat, and went to the study. His
delay gave Lord Loudwater's wrath full time to mature.
When the butler entered his master shook his fist at him and roared:
"You scoundrel! You infernal scoundrel! You've been robbing me!
You've been robbing me for years, you blackguard!"
James Hutchings met the charge with complete calm. He shook his
head and said in a surly tone: "No;