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Authors: Barbara Cartland
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pittance, just enough to buy food for ourselves and for the people in the house.”
“I realise that,” Lord Cheriton said. “But I think I may be able to help you.”.
He paused and then he said,
“Where you are concerned, I think I could arrange for you to sit for a scholarship for Oxford.”
“You could?”
Richard sounded almost incredulous and Lord Cheriton explained,
“I was not at University myself, but I have friends who will help you solve your problem, if not your sister’s.”
He was thinking as he spoke that both his father and his grandfather had been at Christ Church College. It should therefore be easy for him to arrange for Richard to sit for a scholarship, and, if he failed, he could get him accepted as a Commoner.
He was beginning to understand the stranglehold that Jeffrey Farlow had not only on these two children, for they were little more, but on the whole neighbourhood, and yet he had the feeling he was not the prime mover of the smuggling gang.
He undoubtedly benefitted from the cargoes, and perhaps arranged the sales of them and was the middle-man between the actual smugglers and the merchants who handled the goods that were brought duty-free so easily into the country.
But Lord Cheriton was almost certain that the head of the large gang was someone else, someone he had not seen, whose name had not as yet been mentioned.
Before he left London, the Prime Minister had arranged for the Commissioner of Customs to give him a list of the names of smugglers known along the South Coast of England.
There was a fair number of them and Lord Cheriton had committed the names to memory and then destroyed the list.
He was well aware that to carry any incriminating documents of any sort upon his person would be to sign his own Death Warrant.
The claret was finished and as he rose from the table he said,
“What we have discussed together here, Richard, is completely in confidence. I do not wish you to speak of it to your sister or to anyone else. And may I say that I am trusting you as a gentleman?”
Richard looked at him a little uncertainly, then asked,
“Are you thinking that you might be able to help us and perhaps – other people as well?”
He spoke hesitatingly, but Lord Cheriton knew the boy had been quick-witted enough to realise that he was not entirely the simple soldier he professed to be.
“We will speak about this another time,” he replied. “In the meanwhile, study hard, and bring me that map tomorrow morning.”
“I will do that,” Richard said eagerly. “And may I ride one of your horses?”
“You have my permission, but you had better speak to Nickolls about it.”
“Thank you, sir. I will go and tell him now,” Richard said eagerly.
He hobbled off and Lord Cheriton went into the salon.
The sun was sinking in a blaze of glory behind the trees and high overhead the first evening star was twinkling in the translucence of the sky.
Wivina was outside on the terrace, leaning on the old grey stone balustrade which was covered with moss, and staring out over the lake which was full of mysterious shadows now that the light from the sun had gone.
Lord Cheriton went to stand beside her.
She did not turn her head or move, but he was aware that she was tinglingly conscious of his presence.
After a moment she said in a worried little voice,
“You should not – stay here. You must leave – early tomorrow morning.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I cannot – explain, but it might be – dangerous for you to remain.”
“What about you?”
“There is – nowhere else for Richard and me to go.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Quite sure. Do you suppose I have not thought about it?”
“Suppose I tell you that I am not afraid and want to stay?”
“But – you must not do that – you don’t understand – they will not allow you to – remain here.”
“Who are ‘they’?”
“I – I cannot tell you – I cannot explain – go – please go – forget
“I realise that,” Lord Cheriton said. “But I think I may be able to help you.”.
He paused and then he said,
“Where you are concerned, I think I could arrange for you to sit for a scholarship for Oxford.”
“You could?”
Richard sounded almost incredulous and Lord Cheriton explained,
“I was not at University myself, but I have friends who will help you solve your problem, if not your sister’s.”
He was thinking as he spoke that both his father and his grandfather had been at Christ Church College. It should therefore be easy for him to arrange for Richard to sit for a scholarship, and, if he failed, he could get him accepted as a Commoner.
He was beginning to understand the stranglehold that Jeffrey Farlow had not only on these two children, for they were little more, but on the whole neighbourhood, and yet he had the feeling he was not the prime mover of the smuggling gang.
He undoubtedly benefitted from the cargoes, and perhaps arranged the sales of them and was the middle-man between the actual smugglers and the merchants who handled the goods that were brought duty-free so easily into the country.
But Lord Cheriton was almost certain that the head of the large gang was someone else, someone he had not seen, whose name had not as yet been mentioned.
Before he left London, the Prime Minister had arranged for the Commissioner of Customs to give him a list of the names of smugglers known along the South Coast of England.
There was a fair number of them and Lord Cheriton had committed the names to memory and then destroyed the list.
He was well aware that to carry any incriminating documents of any sort upon his person would be to sign his own Death Warrant.
The claret was finished and as he rose from the table he said,
“What we have discussed together here, Richard, is completely in confidence. I do not wish you to speak of it to your sister or to anyone else. And may I say that I am trusting you as a gentleman?”
Richard looked at him a little uncertainly, then asked,
“Are you thinking that you might be able to help us and perhaps – other people as well?”
He spoke hesitatingly, but Lord Cheriton knew the boy had been quick-witted enough to realise that he was not entirely the simple soldier he professed to be.
“We will speak about this another time,” he replied. “In the meanwhile, study hard, and bring me that map tomorrow morning.”
“I will do that,” Richard said eagerly. “And may I ride one of your horses?”
“You have my permission, but you had better speak to Nickolls about it.”
“Thank you, sir. I will go and tell him now,” Richard said eagerly.
He hobbled off and Lord Cheriton went into the salon.
The sun was sinking in a blaze of glory behind the trees and high overhead the first evening star was twinkling in the translucence of the sky.
Wivina was outside on the terrace, leaning on the old grey stone balustrade which was covered with moss, and staring out over the lake which was full of mysterious shadows now that the light from the sun had gone.
Lord Cheriton went to stand beside her.
She did not turn her head or move, but he was aware that she was tinglingly conscious of his presence.
After a moment she said in a worried little voice,
“You should not – stay here. You must leave – early tomorrow morning.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I cannot – explain, but it might be – dangerous for you to remain.”
“What about you?”
“There is – nowhere else for Richard and me to go.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Quite sure. Do you suppose I have not thought about it?”
“Suppose I tell you that I am not afraid and want to stay?”
“But – you must not do that – you don’t understand – they will not allow you to – remain here.”
“Who are ‘they’?”
“I – I cannot tell you – I cannot explain – go – please go – forget
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