Devil's Cocktail (Wallace of the Secret Service Series) by Wilson Alexander

Author:Wilson, Alexander [Wilson, Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780749018559
Publisher: Allison & Busby
Published: 2015-04-23T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

His Excellency the Governor

When eventually Miles and Cousins reached the bungalow, they found Joan eagerly awaiting them on the veranda.

‘Well?’ she asked, and at the sight of Miles’ beaming face the look of trouble began to leave her own.

‘Has Hugh come back yet?’ he inquired.

‘Yes; he came home ages ago. They know everything at the College and he was asked to resign, but he refused. He is in an awful state about it!’

‘Well, Miss Joan, just you go right along to him and tell him that Olive Gregson has been before an emergency committee at the Club, and confessed everything; that I have seen her leave for Bangalore, and that she has asked me to request you and your brother to forgive her.’

‘Oh, Oscar!’ she cried, her eyes shining with such happiness that Cousins felt an uncomfortable lump in his throat. ‘Is this really true?’

‘Sure! And not only that, but the chairman of the Club has asked me to convey his sympathies, and those of the other committeemen to Hugh, and to assure him that everything will be done to clear the scandal from his name.’

‘Oscar, you dear!’ she cried, and ran off to tell Hugh the good news.

Cousins looked at Miles in perplexity.

‘Good heavens!’ he exclaimed. ‘Can it be possible that a lean, ugly, grinning specimen of what a man might come to, like you, has found his way into that dear girl’s heart!’

‘Gee! If only I could think so!’ sighed the American.

‘Do you mean to say—?’

‘I just mean to say that I would sell my soul for Joan!’

Cousins held out his hand.

‘I wish you luck, old chap. You make sentiment rise in my breast, and I can almost feel the weight of years rolling away from my shoulders. I also love Miss Shannon!’

‘You what?’ demanded Miles.

‘As a father, of course,’ said the little man hastily; ‘though I must confess that even I, in spite of all the cold, calculating reason that inhabits my cranium, am capable of feeling la grande passion. “A warmth within the breast would melt The freezing reason’s colder part, And, like a man in wrath the heart, Stood up and answered ‘I have felt’.”’

Hugh was sitting moodily on the bed, when Joan burst into his room, her face all aglow with delight. She repeated what Miles had told her without stopping for breath. He started up and caught her by the shoulders.

‘What is this?’ he demanded.

She told him all over again, and then threw her arms round him and kissed him.

‘Oh, Hugh!’ she said. ‘I am so happy!’

He was a different man as he returned her caress.

‘By Jove!’ he said. ‘How splendid!’

‘And it’s all due to Oscar – every bit of it!’ she cried.

He looked at her and smiled.

‘Oscar!’ he remarked. ‘Since when—?’

She blushed and hurried from the room.

For a few minutes he stood looking after her, and then he followed. He found Miles explaining to Cousins and Joan how careful one should be in mixing a cocktail and, without regard for cocktails or the interested listeners, he clasped the American’s hand and interrupted him.

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